# Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (7-31-22)



## EternalNewbie

*Al-Qarin: Into the Desert *

Okay, this is my first attempt at a story hour.  This particular world has served as the backdrop for five or six campaigns, some of which ended in complete character annihilation, others which just ended as players moved away.  I'm currently playing the character Khalid, which is why the first part at least is written from his point of view.  I'm writing a lot of this from memory, as we actually started the campaign a few months ago, but it's pretty close to the actual game sessions.  Comments are welcome, and both the DM and I check the boards so we'll be more than happy to answer any questions.  So sit back, and enjoy.

(PS:  I wanted to call the thread Al-Qarin, a tale of Arcanomancers, Adventurosity and Ambition, but my DM wouldn't let me   )

(PPS:  I realized the chapters thing wasn't going to work in the title, so I changed it anyhow.)

                                  * * * * * * * * *

CHAPTER 1: INTO THE DESERT

Khalid ibn Bahir, whose name meant eternal brilliance in the old tongue, sat in the gloom and stared at the pages before him, his brow furrowed in concentration.  Around him were strewn the accoutrements of his art: musty tomes, quills and vials of ink, and pages upon pages of arcane formula scrawled out in his wavering script.   Thick, acrid smoke hung heavy in the air, emanating from a bubbling pot suspended over a small charcoal brazier beside Khalid.  The glow of the brazier and the feeble shafts of sunlight that poked through the slates of the ramshackle walls barely managed to light Khalid's tiny, dingy hovel.  Slowly, like a man awaking from a deep sleep, Khalid straightened up in his chair and glanced around the room, aware for the first time of an incessant hammering on his front door.

"Ah, yes, who is it?" Khalid croaked, his voice hoarse after hours of silence.

"Khalid? Open up the damn door, it's Gorak.  I've got your plants."

There was no mistaking the thick growl of Gorak, a long time business associate of Khalid's, and the closest thing he had to a friend.  Khalid hurried to the door, an easy task considering the size of his tiny hovel and flung it open.

"Please, come, come.  Yes, you have it? Two blooms, yes?" Khalid asked.

"Of course" Gorak growled, "picked fresh last night."

Gorak was forced to turn slightly as he entered, to fit his massive shoulders through the door. Standing beside Khalid, he was as night to day.  Khalid was tall and slight, his hair shaved down to his scalp with a long flowing black beard squared off neatly at the bottom.  Gorak was shorter, but twice as wide, with thick rippling muscles.  He sported no beard, but his thick matted dreadlocks gave him a feral appearance, enhanced greatly by the thick tusks that jutted up from his lower jaw.  His obsidian skin glistened in the morning sun that now flooded into the tiny one room shack.  Gorak drew out two small flower blossoms from a small sack and handed them to Khalid.

"Ah, yes, excellent, these will undoubtedly further my research. Yes, quite."

"Research? So that's what that stench is." Gorak rumbled.

"Yes, ah, no, ah that is my lunch.  Perhaps I could offer you some?"  Khalid said as he moved towards the brazier.

"No thanks.  This is Shayla by the way, she's an old friend of mine."

It was at this point that Khalid noticed a petite woman standing hesitantly outside the doorway.  Her face was framed by a tumbling mass of auburn ringlets, which descended past her slender shoulders.  Her green eyes seemed to sparkle of their own accord and her pert nose and generous lips made her undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women Khalid had ever seen.  A stunning figure that was barely concealed or even contained by the flimsy silk halter and skirt she wore only magnified her beauty.

"Ah, yes, please come in, my lady.  I am truly sorry that you must be forced to endure such deplorable surroundings, yes, quite, but, ah, I am a man of meager means I am afraid, yes, quite."  Khalid stammered, his habitual stuttering increasing a notch.

"Oh, I don't mind." Shayla said as she practically glided into the room.

Even her voice is beautiful, thought Khalid, as he closed the door behind her, and then opened the shutters to allow more light into his tiny home.  Gorak set down an enormous wicket basket beside one of the few chairs in the room, then sat down himself.  The chair gave an ominous groan, but much to Khalid's surprise, didn’t shatter under his weight.

"Mind if I take Sousee out?" Gorak muttered.

"Ah no, not at all, yes ah…" Khalid replied hesitantly. 

Sousee was Gorak's pet, a monstrously large snake that he took everywhere.  "Ah, yes, I'll retrieve your payment, you had no trouble, I hope?"

"Naw.  Dad's got the tribe camped out at the eastern oasis, and the stuff grows around there."  Gorak's tribe, unlike most of his kin, had more or less permanently settled near the sprawling city of Gem-Sharad.  They made their living hunting game for the great arena, and occasionally obtained rare plants and other items from the desert for wealthy sages and alchemists.

"Ah, yes, the price was five sultanas* I believe, yes?"  Khalid fished the golden coins out of a pouch at his waist, and handed them to Gorak.

"Ya."  Gorak absently bit one of the coins, then dropped them into Sousee's basket.

"Yes, ah, there are a few, ah, other items I need you to…" Khalid began, when he was interrupted once again by a pounding on his front door.

"Khalid ibn Bahir, open up in the name of the White Tower," a voice from outside demanded.

Even Khalid's tanned skin couldn't hide the fact that his face had gone deathly pale.  The White Tower was a place all too familiar to Khalid.  It was a place of learning and study, where students came to learn the mystic arts.  But more importantly, it was a place of power, ruled by old men steeped in experience and knowledge.  Demands from the White Tower carried only slightly less weight than edicts handed down from the Sultan's palace.  Khalid had been a student there, enrolling two years ago with the small inheritance left him by his parents.  It had not been pleasant.  Always at the bottom of the class, ridiculed for his perceived lack of ability and awkward social graces, it was a constant struggle for Khalid.  The arcane formulae taught by the professor's simply would not stick in Khalid's mind.  When he uttered the words, his stutter intruded; when he tried to recall a formula, it always came out wrong.  Then, a year ago, everything changed.

One morning, classes were interrupted when a messenger arrived, speaking of a strange black cloud hanging over the eastern mountains.  As the students rushed to the windows, Khalid hung back and watched as the professor, a powerful wizard named Halaal, conferred with the messenger, a look of deep concern on his face.  Classes were canceled for the day.  Then again the next day, and the day after that.  A week passed, and rumors began to circulate through the dorms.  Fear and doubt settled into the White Tower, as heavy and pervasive as the ominous black cloud that continued to linger over the eastern mountains.  Powerful magi and sages from the surrounding cities began to filter into to Gem-Sharad, and immediately vanished into the upper levels of the White Tower.  Then suddenly, the Tower was closed.  The students were turned out into the streets, without any explanations or answers.  Khalid was despondent, for even the poorest apprentice of the White Tower was a cut above the average rabble.  Without purpose or direction, Khalid took the last of his inheritance, and rented a tiny hovel in the worst slum outside the walls of Gem-Sharad.  With nothing to occupy his time, he turned his attention back to his studies. 

Three months went by.  Then suddenly, the black cloud was gone, blown away like any other storm cloud, but still the White Tower did not open.  Rumors had now begun to spread among the cityfolk.  Wild speculation that the wizards were fighting some terrible evil, or were gathering together to cast some awesome dweomer.  But no one knew the real truth; no one that was, but Khalid.  His formulae were no longer inert, were no longer just scrawls on paper.  Instead of struggling each day to commit meaningless words to memory, the words now leapt off the pages of his spellbook and burned into his mind.  What's more, he could feel it now, the weave of magic wrapping around him, and when he beckoned it, it came.  The rules of magic had changed somehow.  All those that had studied and learned the old ways had lost their link to the weave.  Khalid frantically redoubled his efforts, filling his spellbook with new spells as the months passed.  Minor magics, he knew, but working spells nevertheless, something that no other wizard in Gem-Sharad could boast.  Not only did Khalid have spells; he had something immeasurably more valuable.  He had the way to translate the old into the new.  He had the Key.

The Key!  Khalid looked frantically around his hovel while the hammering at his door became more insistent.

"Khalid ibn Bahir.  We know you're in there, now open the door!"

"Ah yes, one moment," Khalid stalled.  He frantically raced over to his desk and began stuffing papers in the brazier.  When it was full of smoldering papers, he jammed the last handful into the bubbling stewpot and picked up his spellbook.  "Ah, yes, they must not find this.  It is, quite valuable, yes quite."

At this point, Shayla who had been silently watching Khalid's unexpected behavior spoke, "Why don't you put it in Gorak's basket.  Whoever's out there won't search that too carefully."

"Ah, yes, quite, Gorak could I perhaps trouble you to, ah, keep this safe for me?  I'll pay you, ah say two sultanas."  Khalid reached for his purse again.

"Sure, I guess." Gorak rumbled, as he took the book from Khalid with one hand and picked up Sousee in the other, and deposited both in the wicker basket.

"Khalid.  Open the door this instant or we'll kick it down."

"Ah yes, of course."  Khalid said as he opened the door. 

Standing there were two young men that Khalid instantly recognized.  Hazal and Belil had been the two best students in Khalid's class and would have been offered a place within the ranks of the White Tower without a doubt.  Hazal was large and athletic, built more like a gladiator than a sage, and Belil was only slightly smaller.  The two had been the primary instigators of most of the ill will directed at Khalid during his brief period as a student.  Hazal was scowling and idly fingering a slim wooden wand tucked into his belt.  Both had the emblem of the White Tower pinned to their robes.  As soon as Khalid opened the door, they pushed their way inside his tiny hovel, making its cramped confines that much more crowded.

"Khalid, we're here to escort you to a meeting with Halaal.  He's requested your presence," demanded Hazal.

"Ah, yes, may I ask why I have been summoned into his, ah, august presence?"  Khalid asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, now make yourself ready so we can get out of this disgusting place." As he spoke, Hazal glanced over at Belil who had moved towards Khalid's tiny writing desk.  Belil shook his head slightly, and the scowl on Hazal's face deepened.

Belil had turned away from Khalid's desk, and was staring intently at Gorak and Shayla.  "What are you two doing here?" he demanded.

"We're friends of Khalid's," Shayla replied.

"Friends of Khalid's?  Why don't you be my _friend_ darling?  I assure you I'm much friendlier than Khalid," said Hazal.  Both men began to laugh crudely, then stopped abruptly as Gorak growled deep in his throat, and began to rise.

"Ah, yes.  Gorak, I'll meet you in the market tomorrow for breakfast at, ah, the vendor which sells the delightful smoked fish?  You, ah, know the one?"  Khalid asked, trying to head off the imminent destruction of his tiny house.

"Ya, I know the one," Gorak rumbled, still eyeing the two apprentices.  Gorak and Shayla stood up and left the tiny hovel, Gorak's gaze never shifting from Hazal until he was out the door.

Khalid followed the two apprentices out the door, and locked it behind him.  They walked in the fading late afternoon sun towards the richest part of town, where the White Tower rose high above even the golden minarets of the Sultan's palace.  The surroundings gradually changed as they moved towards the heart of the city.  Soon the beggars and mendicants of the poor quarter were left behind, replaced with merchants hawking wares from booths lining the street.  They moved through one of the largest markets in the city, past vendors selling food and weapons, incense and wine, and just about anything else that could be bought with sultanas, viziers or califs.  The marketplace was left behind, and the street-side vendors were replaced with shop fronts of well to do merchants.  As they walked, Khalid tried hard to ignore the barbs and jibes of Hazal and Belil, until finally he could take it no more.  As they approached the low wall that separated the White Tower from the rest of the city, Khalid spoke just as Hazal stepped forward, "Ah, yes, Hazal, be a good fellow and tell them that I'm coming."

Hazal shot a look filled with malice at Khalid then spoke, "We return to the White Tower bringing the _former_ apprentice Halaal wanted to see."

The guard, oblivious to the not so subtle exchange taking place, simply nodded and opened the gate.  As they passed into the broad courtyard of the White Tower, Hazal hissed, "Keep your mouth shut until you see Halaal."

Khalid simply smirked and took in the surroundings.  It had been almost a year since he had set foot on the beautiful grounds of the White Tower, and although he had lived here for almost a year prior to that, he had never considered it home.  It felt even less inviting now, as the trio moved towards one of the low outbuildings surrounding the tower proper.  Hazal knocked on the door, then entered.  Khalid moved in behind him, absorbing the surroundings carefully.
The first thing he noticed was Halaal, a large, rotund man sitting comfortably in a large, leather backed chair.  Halaal was in his late fifties and had not aged particularly well.  His tanned skin was wrinkled and leathery, and his once impressive physique had run to fat.  His beard was shot through with gray, as presumably was his hair, although Khalid had never seen him without his customary silk turban.  As Khalid entered, Halaal smiled, a strange expression on his normally dour face.  The room itself seemed to be a small workshop.  Alchemical tools and apparatus lined the tables along the walls.  Directly behind Halaal was a large rack of what Khalid could only presume were scrolls.  Halaal himself glittered with gems and precious stones, which adorned both his robes and his fingers.  He seemed perfectly at ease and almost cordial, which only made Khalid more nervous.

"We found him, Master Halaal.  There were two others with him," said Hazal, and much like Belil had, he shook his head slightly.  Khalid realized that handing over his precious spellbook to Gorak had been a wise move after all.

"Ah, Khalid.  It has been too long since you have visited us here at the White Tower," began Halaal.  "I thought perhaps that you would appreciate the opportunity to come and discuss your research.  I have been looking over some of your old notes from when you were an apprentice, and I think that some of your ideas may have merit."

"Ah, yes, quite.  I have a number of projects, yes, a number of projects underway at the moment," replied Khalid, somewhat cautiously.

Halaal smiled.  "Yes, of course you do.  And these two acquaintances of yours, are they assisting you with your research?"

"Ah, no, not really.  They are, ah, business associates.  I had them obtain a rare herb for me, the desert rose, you have, ah, heard of it?"

"Desert rose," Halaal mused, "yes I believe it’s a fairly common plant, found on the border of the near desert.  A main ingredient in love philters if I'm not mistaken."

Hazal snickered and muttered something to Belil who grinned maliciously.  Khalid flushed and glanced around nervously; that wasn't what he'd thought it did at all.

"Yes, quite.  Ah, as I said, it is, ah, only one of many projects.  Yes, quite," Khalid stammered.

"Hmmm.  Well I have no interest in that aspect of your research.  I am however, interested in obtaining some working formulae from you, assuming of course you have some that work," Halaal said, raising an eyebrow as he spoke.

There was no doubt now what he was looking for.  Khalid's mind began to race as he frantically tried to think of a way to protect his spellbook and the knowledge he had obtained.  Halaal had always treated him as though he were worse than dirt, and Khalid had no intention of simply handing the man the key that would allow him to regain his power.

"I think, ah, that we may be able to reach an amicable agreement, that is, ah, beneficial to both parties, yes, quite."  Khalid played along.

"Indeed.  I would pay two hundred and fifty sultanas for whatever research you have accomplished thus far.  Assuming of course, you have anything of interest for me."  Halaal's tone left no doubt that he knew exactly what Khalid had to offer.

"Ah, perhaps a small demonstration, then, yes?" Khalid asked, as his fished around in one of the many pouches that hung from his tattered belt.  He hesitated slightly, debating what spell to cast.  He longed to cast a detect magic, to see what power Halaal had at his disposal, but opted instead to cast light, a spell much less likely to irritate Halaal.  Khalid focused his concentration, then released the constraints on the formulae burning in his mind.  The words rolled out of him, in a clear, confident voice so unlike his normal tone.  When he finished, a tiny ache of loss filled him briefly which was replaced with pride.  The golden sultana in his hand now shone as brightly as a torch.

"Hmmm, yes I can see some of the differences.  The formula is not so different as I had first thought.  Well then Khalid, as I said, I will offer you two hundred and fifty sultanas for your research."

"Ah, yes, quite generous.  Yes, quite."  Khalid replied, "Permit me a day to consider your offer, and compile my notes."

Halaal considered Khalid's request, eyeing him carefully.  "I suppose that is acceptable but I assure you, my offer is more than generous."

"Yes, ah, well there are forms of compensation which would be more useful to me than sultana's alone. Yes, quite."  Khalid said his gaze lingering on the many scrolls behind Halaal.

"Mind your place!" barked Hazal.

"Yes, I shall certainly remember my place when you come to _fetch_ me tomorrow." Khalid retorted.  Hazal flushed dark red at the jibe, but held his peace under Halaal's disapproving gaze.

"Well then, I'll send Hazal and Belil to your abode tomorrow.  Say, shortly after sundown."

"Yes.  Until tomorrow then."

                           * * * * * * * * * *


Notes:
*Sultanas = Gold Coins
  Viziers = Silver Coins
  Califs = Copper Coins

*Khalid really does talk like that.  And yes, it does annoy the other players


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## pogre

Excellent! I really hope you can keep this going, because the first part has me hooked. Please update soon to maintain this excellent momentum!


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## Galeman

hi there everybody .. er .. pogre.  as mentioned by eternalnewbie, i am the gm of this particular game.  i intend on starting a thread in rogue's gallery of characters and npcs.  hopefully my horrible habit of offing characters doesn't continue, but sometimes my dice just get hot and there's no stopping them.

here's a link to the rogue's gallery containing the characters and eventually the npcs.  http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=70037


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## ledded

pogre said:
			
		

> Excellent! I really hope you can keep this going, because the first part has me hooked. Please update soon to maintain this excellent momentum!




Hear, Hear!  I second that.

Good start, I'm hooked.  Very nice characterizations;  very believable and anti-hero-ish feel to Khalid that I am enjoying immensely.


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## EternalNewbie

Okay, here's the second update.  This pretty much ends the first actual game session, which as you can tell was pretty heavy on the RP side.  But don't worry, the action picks up shortly and uh, well never really slows down again.  Oh, and don't expect all the updates to come quite this quickly, I'm mainly using this as a way to procrastinate from doing any of the massive piles of schoolwork which are quickly accumulating beside me.  Never fear however, I'll continue to update regularly.  That's enough from me for now.  Enjoy.

***********​

With the back of his hand, Khalid shielded his eyes from the oppressive morning sun as he surveyed the marketplace.  It was still early by Khalid's standards, but he knew that Gorak was a habitually early riser.  The marketplace was slowly filling up as merchants began to set up their wares and shoppers began to filter in.  The sounds of haggling assailed Khalid as business began to pick up in earnest.

"Two sultanas for that?  I wouldn't use that cheap rag to clean my floor."

"Cheap rag? I assure you, this is the finest silk, imported from the Eastern Kingdom before the mountain pass was closed…"

"You son of a motherless goat, this blade isn't sharp enough to cut a rotten melon, much less cleave a man in two.  How do you expect me to survive in the arena wielding pig iron like this?

"Smoked fish.  Fresh smoked fish.  Caught just this morning."

"Bah, are you trying to rob me? Here, why don't you just club me on the head and cut my purse strings?"

 "Please effendi, I can go no lower. My children will most assuredly go hungry this evening as it is."

Khalid wandered over to the vendor selling smoked fish, still scanning the crowd for Gorak.  Khalid doubted the veracity of the man's claim that the fish were freshly caught, but purchased some anyhow.  He had just finished licking his fingers clean, when he saw Gorak shouldering his way through the crowd.

"Ah, yes, Gorak, do you still have, ah, my possession close at hand?"

"Good morning to you too," Gorak rumbled.  "Ya.  It's right here."  Gorak began to shrug off the large wicker basket that contained both Sousee and Khalid's spellbook.

"Ah, perhaps here is not the best place.  Yes, they may have, ah followed me.  I'm not sure."  Khalid whispered, despite the fact that the rising din in the marketplace was making normal speech difficult to hear.

"Suit yerself.  Let's get outta here.  All these people crowding around are starting to irritate me."  Gorak grumbled.  The mismatched pair pushed their way through the now crowded marketplace onto a smaller side avenue.  Gorak took a deep breath and muttered, "So what was all that business about yesterday anyhow?"

"Ah, yes.  It seems an old professor of mine has become quite, yes, quite interested in my research and wants to, ah, purchase it from me.  He's not, I'm afraid, giving me much of a choice."  Khalid sighed.

"Hrmm.  Don't sound like you're too pleased with the idea.  So whadda ya gonna do?"

"I'm not quite sure.  The White Tower has, ah, lost significant, yes, significant power but there's no way I could possibly fend off Halaal.  Eventually he'll just take what he wants if I ah, don't comply with his wishes.  Unless perhaps, yes, if I could, ah, find another interested party, a sponsor if you will, who would be interested in having me, ah act as a tutor.  If they were powerful enough, yes, they might be able to protect me, yes.  I don’t suppose you know anybody, ah, rich and ah, powerful and interested in the finer art of ah, arcanomancery?"  Khalid looked expectantly at Gorak.

"Heh.  Look at me.  Do I look like I know a lot of rich and powerful people."  Gorak guffawed.

Khalid took in Gorak's tattered fur vest, and the various fetishes and beads woven into his matted dreadlocks and sighed again.  "Yes, I suppose not."

The two men walked in silence for a while, until Gorak muttered something under his breath.

"Ah, I didn't quite catch that, yes, quite."

"Shayla."  Gorak growled.

"Ah, yes, lovely girl.  What about her?"  Khalid asked.

"Her family's rich.  Maybe she knows somebody."

"Really?"  Khalid's expression brightened, then faded into a worried frown, "Do you think she'd, ah, help, ah, someone like me?"  

"Ya.  She's funny like that.  C'mon, I'll take you over to her place."

As the two men walked through shabby areas of Gem-Sharad, heading towards the merchant's quarter, Khalid couldn't help thinking about Shayla.  Beauty like that, and rich as well.  Suddenly Khalid wished that he didn't smell quite so much like smoked fish.

* * * * * * * * * * *​
Shayla frowned.  "I might know somebody that has the connections that you need.  I'm not sure she'll help us though."

"Ah, well, if it's ah, too much trouble, don't bother. Yes, ah, I'll make other arrangements.  Yes, quite," stammered Khalid.

"No, it's not that, I'm just not sure she'll be able to.  Besides, I need to visit her shop again anyhow, I'm almost out of perfume," Shayla said brightly.

"Ah, perfume?"

"Yes.  She mixes the best perfumes in the whole city, among other things.  Oh, and remind me to pick up a few pillows on the way back through the bazaar.  Now excuse me while I go get ready."

Khalid glanced around Shayla's home.  It was richly appointed, with thick tapestries draped on the walls and valuable figurines and curios adorning various shelves around the room.  Her need for pillows seemed unfounded however, as the room was already knee deep in them.  In fact, as near as Khalid could tell, there wasn't any furniture in this room at all.  Khalid turned to Gorak, "Perfume?  Ah, I'm not sure this was a good idea after all."

"Relax, she knows what she's doing," rumbled Gorak from the mound of pillows he was lounging on.  "You might as well sit down.  'Getting ready' can take a while."

Khalid started to gingerly pick out a spot, then realized the foolishness of his action, and just flopped down on the largest pile of cushions.  An angry hiss made him leap to his feet again, as Sousee came slithering out of the mound and over his foot.  Gorak chuckled, then gave a short hiss, and Sousee slid over and curled up beside him, eyeing Khalid warily.  Khalid sighed heavily, and sat down to wait.

Getting ready didn't take nearly as long as Gorak hinted, and the three were out the door in less than half an hour.  Shayla was, as near as Khalid could tell, wearing even less clothing than what she had on before.  Her halter and pantaloons bordered on scandalous and the thin, gauzy veil she wore seemed to mock the very pretense of modesty.  Still, Khalid thought to himself, the view isn't bad, as he followed her through the crowded streets of Gem-Sharad.  The trio soon arrived at a small nondescript shop in the merchant's quarter. Shayla opened the door and walked inside as Gorak stopped and leaned up against the wall.  "I'll wait out here," he grumbled, "that place makes my nose itch."

Khalid entered the dimly lit shop and was assailed by a hundred different odors. Airy, fruity, perfumes mixed with the scent of sandalwood incense and some deeper, heavier smoke.  As Khalid glanced at the innumerable bottles and vials lining the walls, he caught notice of a few liquids and powders that had no place in any decent smelling perfume.   "Ah, yes.  Perhaps this was a good idea after all.  Yes, quite," he muttered under his breath.

Shayla had already moved to the counter, and was speaking to a bejeweled elderly woman swaddled in silks.  Shayla was haggling fiercely, her voice rising with each invective, until she was practically screeching.  The old woman countered each accusation with one of her own, until finally Shayla delivered such a scathing denunciation of the old woman's perfumes, shop and lineage in general that the hair on the back of Khalid's neck rose up.  The old woman, whose lips had been twitching at each insult, finally burst out laughing.  Through her fit of laughter, she croaked out, "Fine then girl, take it."

Shayla handed over a sum of sultanas that made Khalid's eyes widen, and picked up a small vial off the counter.  She turned, noticing Khalid seemingly for the first time since she entered the shop, snapped her fingers and said, "Miranda, this is a friend of mine, Khalid."

"Ah, yes, the pleasure, I assure, is all mine.  Yes, quite."  Khalid inclined his head slightly.

"He's interested in your old business, you know…" Shayla made a stirring motion with one finger.

"Hmmm, not much call for that these days.  I hope for your sake dear that you're buying not selling, because I don't have much use for most of those items these days." Miranda eyed him up and down as if measuring his intent.

"Ah, yes, neither, I'm afraid, but I still think that we can reach a profitable, yes, profitable arrangement. Yes, quite. I understand that, certain individuals of a particular profession used to frequent your shop."

"Yes, yes, don't dance about with me boy, I'm too old and too tired." Miranda said.

"Yes, quite. Ah well then, I'm looking for a patron, somebody who wishes to resume the path, yes, the path as it were."

Miranda's eye's widened.  "You can do that?  You have the knowledge?"

"Ah yes, I can."

"Well now, that would be valuable."

"Yes, quite.  Unfortunately, I must act quickly, yes, quickly to secure a patron."

"How quickly?"

Khalid thought for a moment, "Ah, I can probably hold off the current interested party for another day or two."

"A day or two," Miranda frowned, "that may be quite difficult.  I have lost contact with many of my old customers, and I suspect that your asking price may be beyond the means of many of them, at least now."

"Hmm, yes, I cannot accept less than a five hundred sultana retainer with living expenses to be arranged at a later date." 

"And what is my end?" Miranda asked.

"Hmm, shall we say ah, five sultana's for simply making contact, and ah, yes, five percent of any immediate retainer fee paid to me?"

"A generous offer.  I accept and will start trying to make contact immediately.  I can't make any promises however, perhaps if I had more time…" she looked at Khalid hopefully.

Khalid shook his head, "Ah, yes, no, I'm afraid that it must be done with the utmost haste. Yes, quite."

With business concluded, Khalid and Shayla said their good-byes to Miranda and left the shop.  As they headed down the street, Gorak fell into step beside them.  "So?" he grumbled.

"Ah, she's willing to make some inquiries, but I'm not certain she'll have enough time. Yes, quite."

The three of them spent the rest of the day idly wandering around the market place, stopping only to take siesta at a wine shop.  As the sun began to set, Khalid set off alone back to his tiny hovel.  He gathered his shabby robes around him, and did his best to look as poor and destitute as possible to avoid attracting the attention of the less reputable denizens that made up the majority of his neighbors.  As he approached his hut, Khalid spotted Hazal standing outside his front door, waiting impatiently.  When Hazal took notice of Khalid, he cleared his throat loudly, and Belil emerged from around the side of the building.  Khalid exhaled slowly; once again he had left his spellbook in Gorak's hands.  Both men idly fingered the wands at their belts, as if daring Khalid to do something untoward.    Khalid had no intentions of doing anything to provoke their ire however, and accompanied them in silence back to the White Tower, where he was ushered into the same room in which he had met Halaal the day before.  This time however, he was forced to wait for several minutes until Halaal arrived.

"Ah, Khalid, a pleasure to see you again.  Have you decided to accept my offer?"

"Ah, I think perhaps, that you can do a bit better than two hundred and fifty sultanas, yes, quite." Khalid countered.

A flicker of displeasure crossed Halaal's face, but his calm demeanor quickly slipped back into place, "I see.  And what then, do you consider a reasonable offer for your research?"

"Ah, yes, well there are forms of compensation which would be far more valuable to me than sultanas," Khalid's gaze drifted to the scrolls neatly filed on the wall.

"Hah.  I think you grossly over estimate your worth Khalid.  Access to a few minor cantrips hardly compares to the value of even the lowliest scroll upon that wall, so you can forget about that.  I am however, in a generous mood and could see perhaps increasing my offer a hundred sultanas," Halaal countered.

"Ah, well then, my price is five hundred sultanas. Yes, five hundred."

"Five hundred? Again I think you have an inflated sense of self worth Khalid.  Three hundred and fifty sultanas is more than generous for what you are offering."

"Ah, well, perhaps, but then again, perhaps not.  Access to my research would certainly give you an advantage over the other wizards here at the tower, yes?"

At the mention of other wizards, Halaal's eyes narrowed. "You tread on very dangerous ground Khalid.  Five hundred sultanas then, we are agreed.  Now where is your spellbook."

"Ah, in a safe place, yes quite.  I was not entirely sure that we would reach a satisfactory arrangement this evening. Yes."

"Fine, fine, I will send Hazal and Belil to collect it."

"In the morning, yes? I need some time to, ah get my notes in order and retrieve my book."

"Bah, very well then Khalid.  They will be waiting by your house at first light."

"Ah, yes, excellent, quite excellent.  It has been a pleasure doing business with you Halaal," Khalid tried to smile, but all he managed was a sickly grin.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Khalid started to head back to his shack, but then abruptly decided against it, and began the long walk to Shayla's house.  Nervously looking over his shoulder, he hurried along the darkening city streets.  The crowds were still heavy however, this early in the evening, and Khalid was sure he could lose himself in the tangled throng of people.  After darting down a few cramped alleys, and doubling back on his path a few times, he felt sufficiently confident that he had shaken any potential followers and made haste directly to Shayla's house.  Gorak was still there he knew; Shayla had been kind enough to put him up for a few days until Khalid settled this matter with Halaal.

Having almost run the last part of the journey to Shayla's house, Khalid arrived flushed and breathless.  He knocked furtively on the door, then slipped inside as Shayla opened the door.  Gorak was standing there, the wicker basket close at hand.  "So?  What happened?" he grumbled.

"I, ah, yes, struck a deal, yes, a deal of sorts with Halaal.  He's going to purchase my research for five hundred sultanas."

Gorak grunted, "And your gonna sell it to him?"

"Ah, well I'm not entirely sure.  I don't suppose you have, ah, heard anything from Miranda have you?"

Shayla nodded, "Actually I did, but she didn't have much luck.  She found somebody willing to go as high as three hundred, but they weren't interested in hiring you on as an instructor I'm afraid."

Khalid sighed heavily, "It seems I have little choice then, yes, quite.  I can't sell my book to Halaal.  It's worth far more than, ah, five hundred sultanas and doing so would increase his power and render me quite impotent, yes, quite.  I fear that I may, ah, have to flee the city.  Yes, flee the city.  Gorak, could I possibly, ah, employ you as a guide, yes, guide through the desert. I hear, ah, Shalazar is lovely this time of year."

Gorak looked thoughtful, "Huh.  Shalazar eh?  I've never been there, but I know the route well enough.  Sure, I'll go with you, and since we're old friends, I won't even charge you nothing.  Unless of course Da's got some work lined up for me, then we might have to figure something out.  We'll take a quick run out to the camp, might help to shake off anybody following us."

"Ah, yes of course, my funds should be sufficient to cover the, ah, cost of trip, yes, quite sufficient.  Once in Shalazar, I can perhaps find a sponsor. Yes."  Khalid looked excited at the prospect.  "Yes, a nice wealthy merchant perhaps, or learned sage…"

Shayla interrupted Khalid's musings, "Maybe I'll go with you, I've never been to Shalazar."

Khalid looked shocked, "Ah, Shayla, I could never, ah, yes never ask you to accompany us.  It will be quite dangerous, yes quite."

"Relax Khalid," Gorak rumbled, "I've known Shayla a long time, she can take care of herself."

"Ah, yes, quite, I never meant to imply otherwise, yes. But simply travelling with me may put you under the scrutiny of Halaal, and I, ah, yes would feel dreadful if, ah, yes anything happened to you."

Shayla sighed.  "I suppose you're right.  It's beastly hot out there anyhow.  I'm not sure I'd enjoy the trip."

"Yes, ah, well, I hate to impose, but ah, I was hoping that, ah yes, I could stay here this evening and ah, Gorak and I can set out in the early morning. The gates, ah, will be locked at this time of night.  I'm quite sure, yes quite, that Halaal will be watching my house." Khalid looked expectantly at Shayla.

Shayla giggled, "Of course, it's no bother.  It's kind of exciting actually."

Khalid swallowed nervously.  His life certainly had become very exciting as of late.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Gorak and Khalid gathered up their meager possessions and left Shayla's apartment before first light, without waking her.  They made a brief stop in the marketplace, where Khalid exchanged a few sultanas with some early rising merchants and headed towards the eastern gate the proud new owner of a serviceable crossbow and several days worth of food.  As they walked towards the eastern gate, Gorak muttered to Khalid, "We've picked up some friends of yours."

Khalid stumbled slightly but managed not to break into a flat out run.  "Do you think, ah, that we could possibly, ah, lose them?" he asked Gorak.

"Ya, maybe.  If we can find a bigger crowd."

The two walked in silence through Gem-Sharad, slowing their pace slightly to give the streets time to fill.  After a while of aimless wandering, Gorak grumbled, "You ready?"

"Ah, ready, yes, I suppose I am. Yes, quite."

"Then get ready to turn down that alley."

Khalid and Gorak turned sharply down a nearby alley and then emerged into a large crowd on an adjoining street.  Turning again, they ducked down another alley, emerging into a large square adorned with a huge stone fountain carved in the likeness of a huge djinn, spewing water from his outstretched hands.  The square was jammed with people gathering water for the day.  "Down that way, it's the quickest way to the Eastern gate," Gorak growled. 

"Do you, ah think we've lost them?"

"We'll find out soon enough.  There's the eastern gate."

* * * * * * * * * *​
Shayla awoke from her mid afternoon siesta suddenly, to a loud pounding on her front door.  She quickly shrugged into her clothing as a voice outside demanded, "Open up in there. We know you know where Khalid is.  Open up or we'll kick your door down!"

Shayla had no difficulty recognizing Hazal's voice although she'd only met him once before.  "Just a second," Shayla replied, "and don't you dare break my door."

When she opened the door, she found Belil and Hazal standing there, looking furious.  "Where's Khalid," Hazal demanded.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Do you know where he's gone?" Hazal pressed.

"Back to his house I'd imagine."  Shayla said innocently.

"No, he did not go back to his house," Hazal snarled, "and I think you know more than you're letting on.  You're going to have to come with us to the White Tower."

Shayla knew enough about the White Tower to know that arguing with them wouldn't have any effect, save to make them angrier, so she acquiesced, "Of course, I'll go with you and answer any questions I can about Khalid, but you'll have to let me get dressed first, I can't go looking like this." Shayla gestured at her generous figure.

Hazal leered at her, "Fine, go and get dressed, but be quick about it."  Shayla calmly walked into her room, and started to close the door but Hazal grabbed it from the other side.  "Leave it open a bit darling, just so we're sure you're not going to do anything silly."

"What could I possibly do to a couple of strong young men like you," she said as she flashed them her most charming smile.

"Just hurry up about it."

Shayla moved away from the door, and once she was sure she was out of sight, reached under her large bed and drew out an ornate crossbow.  It had been a gift to her father, and Shayla had nicked it when her family had cast her out.  She'd found out later that she was actually a fair shot with it, and had kept it handy, just in case.  Her heart began to pound deep in her chest as she considered her planned course of action.  Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly to calm her nerves, Shayla began to chant.


----------



## pogre

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> *Khalid really does talk like that.  And yes, it does annoy the other players




Good Lord - I'm surprised your DM has not slapped you senseless - funny accents are cool for about 2 minutes 

Great update - keep ignoring that school work!


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## peteyfrogboy

Ah, there's nothing like wizardly politics. Excellent story so far. The world has a very real feel to it.


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## EternalNewbie

Okay, here's the update I'm sure that most of you have been breathlessly awaiting.  It's not as long as the others, as I'm currently mired in the middle of exams.  Thanks to those who have posted replies for truly your kind words are the fuel for my creative spark. Heh.  Might not be another update for a week or so, at which point I'll be finished my exams and will be writing furiously to catch up to where we are in the campaign.  Alrighty, enough small talk, here's the update.  Enjoy.

* * * * * * * *​
Shayla felt the magic course through her veins as the arcane words rolled from her lips.  She shivered slightly as the temperature in the room dropped several degrees and a thick mist coalesced around her.  With one smooth motion she flipped open the latch on her shuttered windows and leapt into the alley behind her home.  The mist spilled out of her bedroom and filled the narrow passage between the houses.

"That bitch," spat Hazal.  "She's some sort of magi.  Head around back and grab her if she flees"

Shayla gathered herself to run, then abruptly thought better of it, and slid in behind a pile of rotting crates left outside by the wine shop that shared the alley.  She heard crashing from inside her bedroom and winced slightly as something shattered on the floor.  Hazal's stream of muttered curses sounded distant and hollow, distorted by the mist.  Shayla froze as she heard footsteps coming down the alley.  Belil walked by close enough to make fog eddy and swirl in front of her but the thick shroud prevented him from spotting her.  The footsteps slowly receded into the fog, and Shayla exhaled slowly, realizing that she had been holding her breath.  In the distance she heard Hazal's voice.  "Damn that cursed witch to the planes of Hell.  She can't have got far.  We'd better find her or Halaal will have our hides."

Shayla waited a few seconds longer, then drew her shawl up around her head, covering her distinctive auburn locks, and walked out of the alley into the street.   She patted the purse at her waist, thankful she'd had the foresight to pick it up when she was putting on her clothes.  Humming softly to herself, Shayla turned and began heading towards the east gate, while behind her the afternoon sun burned away the last traces of her spell.

* * * * * * * * * *​
The trip to the encampment of Gorak's tribe had been long, hot and dusty, but then travelling anywhere outside the walls of Gem-Sharad seemed long, hot and dusty to Khalid.  The sun had just begun to set when the two men crested a dune and were greeted by the flickering light of a half dozen campfires burning around a tiny oasis.  Khalid loosed the end of his turban, which had been drawn up over his face and took a long pull of tepid water from his skin.  He had only been out to the camp once before, and the experience had not been particularly enjoyable but for the moment, anywhere was better than Gem-Sharad.  Khalid sighed heavily and hurried to catch up to Gorak who had already begun to walk down the dune.

The camp was every bit as raucous and noisy as Khalid remembered it.  Everywhere were half and full blood orcs, drinking and cursing and fighting.  As the two men moved through the maze of tents, members of Gorak's extended family offered to them what Khalid assumed were greetings although to his untrained ears may have been threats of violence.  Everywhere around him were the snarls and thick guttural sounds of the orc tongue.  Gorak returned these greetings with a wave or a nod but didn't break his stride.  "We've gotta go see my Da first, before we get something to eat.  It's the way of things," he grumbled when he saw Khalid staring longingly at a bubbling stewpot.

"Ah yes, quite." Khalid replied as he narrowly dodged a swarm of orcish children that tumbled out in front of him from between two tents.  The children seemed to be playing some sort of game with a stick which, as near as Khalid could tell, involved the child with the stick beating everyone else around him with it until someone else knocked him down and took it away.  "Ah, yes, always a pleasure to enjoy the hospitality of your tribe.  Yes, quite."

Gorak grunted and pushed his way through a circle of cheering orcs.  Khalid moved quickly behind him to avoid having to jostle any of the men himself.  Gorak stopped at the inner edge of the circle, and Khalid craned his neck to see over him.  In the middle of the impromptu ring were two orcs locked in a titanic struggle.  Khalid recognized Gorak's father, Magol as one of the combatants, although he didn't recognize the other.  The two orcs, both full bloods as far as Khalid could tell, stood with their feet planted, gripping each other by the upper arms.  They remained there, motionless as the seconds ticked by, the only hint of the enormous effort being expended coming in the sweat that poured down their faces and their sharp labored breaths.

Khalid leaned in close to Gorak, "Ah, is this some sort of, ah, leadership challenge?"

Gorak snorted, "Nah. Da just likes to work up an appetite."

Suddenly the deadlock in the ring was broken.  Magol had slowly slid his hands down to his opponent's elbows and then flung his arms out wide, breaking the grip.  The orc, unbalanced by the sudden lack of resistance, stumbled forward.  Magol snapped his head forward and the two men's skulls met with a thunderous crack that sent a shiver down Khalid's spine.  Quick as a serpent Magol slid around behind the stunned man and wrapped an arm around the orc's neck, locking it with his other hand.  Magol slowly leaned back, lifting the other orc's feet off the ground.  His arms bulging with exertion and thick cords standing out on his neck, Magol slowly tightened his grip, oblivious to the thrashing orc's attempts to shatter his knees.  The orc's eyes began to bulge from his head and his struggles became more and more feeble until finally he stopped moving altogether.  At that point, Magol dropped him to the ground and gave an earsplitting roar that was echoed by the gathered onlookers.  As the crowd began to disperse, leaving the unconscious orc in a heap on the ground, someone tossed Magol a flagon.  He took a long heavy pull, then wiped his lips lustily before noticing Gorak and Khalid.  He barked out a few short words that Khalid didn't understand.

"Speak the man's tongue, Da.  You know Khalid don't speak ours."  Gorak replied.

"Bah, I hate trying to get my damned tongue around this cursed language.  The words are all soft like a woman, nothing you can sink your fangs into.  Well, Khalid, come to fatten our coffers to satisfy more of your book learnin'?"  Magol said.

Khalid studied Magol cautiously.  He was a bit shorter and even thicker than Gorak, if such a thing were possible.  His face was like a slab of rock, hard and broad.  A thick ropey scar wound its way down the left side of his face, and Khalid couldn't figure out how the orc hadn't lost an eye getting it.  The long ivory tusks that jutted up from his lower jaw had been inscribed with fanciful whorls and sigils, and capped with gleaming gold.  His hair, like Gorak's, was a tangled mass of dreadlocks and his obsidian skin, slicked with sweat, shone in the flickering firelight.  Khalid swallowed nervously and then replied, "Ah, yes, honor to your camp and your, ah tribe, Magol.  Yes, quite."

Gorak interrupted with his characteristic curtness, "I'm taking Khalid to Shalazar.  We're leaving in the morning."

Magol grunted, "How much is he paying ya to do that?"

Gorak's human mother had moved up beside Magol.  She was squat and fat, and the coarse black hair that covered her head and, Khalid noted with a shudder, the better part of her face, was akin to a horse's mane.  She handed Magol a thick woolen robe.

"Nothing," Gorak replied.

"Nothing?" Magol roared.  Then he casually delivered a backhand to his wife that sent her sprawling to the ground.

"What was that for?" she wailed as she stood up, wiping blood from her nose.

"For cheating on me, you faithless whore, because this bastard obviously ain't no son of mine," Magol snarled.  "Come ta my tent later boy, your charity work is gonna have to wait.  There's a stranger here in camp, an Easterner, and he's got hisself some interesting tales.  Chance for some good profit in it."

Gorak grunted noncommittally and turned away, "Now let's get something to eat."

As the two moved away from Magol's tent, Khalid asked, "Ah, yes, do you think perhaps, you can find out where this Easterner has pitched his tent?  I would be quite interested in speaking with him, yes quite, if only to practice the Eastern tongue a little."

Gorak grunted his ascent as he ladled out two bowls of stew.  "C'mon, you can stash your gear in my tent, there's enough room in there for both of us."

After finishing his meal, Gorak wandered out into the camp to find some of his family members to beat on.  At least that's what Khalid assumed he was doing, seeing as how casual conversation didn't seem to be a popular form of entertainment.  Khalid finished the last of his stew, and then left Gorak's yurt in search of the Easterner.  Khalid found him, sitting alone just beyond the edges of the tribe's camp.  He had pitched a small tent and was roasting some type of meat over a small fire.  The man's features were shrouded beneath a hooded cloak.  Khalid hailed him in the eastern tongue, "Ah, well met my friend, and a blessing upon your camp."

The man didn't look up as he prodded the small fire with a stick, causing sparks to flare up into the night sky.

Khalid, a little taken aback by the man's lack of response, continued, "Ah, yes, my name is Khalid ibn Bahir.  I had hoped to, ah, enjoin you in some conversation, yes quite.  I have had little practice, yes, practice in the eastern tongue."

The man looked up, "Me too, these days.  Your accent is terrible."  Khalid took the opportunity to study the man before he resumed tending the fire.  His skin was dark brown but Khalid could tell it was from long hours spent in the sun and not natural color.  His hair was the color of the desert sand, but his green eyes were hard and quick, seeming to look at nothing and take in everything.  The man's hands were large and callused, and moved deftly as he shaved a strip of meat off the spit.  Khalid was certain the sword resting beside him was not merely ornamental.  "Well?" the man continued.

"Ah, well what?" Khalid stuttered.

"Are you going to sit down, or are you just going to stand there all night," the man asked.

"Ah, yes of course, thank you for the invitation ah…" Khalid trailed off.

"Name's Ronik."

"Yes, of course. Ronik.  Well, ah I had hoped to question you about your homeland, yes, in addition to practicing my linguistic skills.  Yes quite.  I have never had the opportunity to yes, travel beyond the mountains, but I have heard quite a few strange tales from that land. Yes, quite.  In fact, I hear that there is war there now, yes, war and that the mountain pass is closed."

Ronik shrugged.  "I dunno Westman, I haven't traveled that way in a long time."

"Ah," Khalid tried hard to hide his disappointment, "I would still be interested in hearing tales from your homeland, nevertheless.  Yes."

Despite the man's taciturn nature, Khalid managed to engage him in idle conversation for a while before returning to the main camp.  On his way back to Gorak's tent, he heard another loud commotion coming from the western side of the camp.  As he headed over to investigate, he met up with Gorak who was heading in the same direction.  "Ah, yes, what's going on Gorak?"

"Dunno," Gorak muttered.

Khalid felt an icy sliver of fear creep into his heart.  "Ah, you don't suppose Halaal has tracked me here do you?"

"Relax Khalid," Gorak rumbled, "you're safe here fer now."

Khalid's fear settled into shock however when he heard a vindictive curse in a voice he recognized all to well.  "Shayla?  By the lost gods, what is she doing here?"

Shayla pushed her way through the crowd of orcs, all male Khalid noticed, that were gathered around her.  She looked a bit harried; probably more so from the attention lavished upon her now than the trip through the desert, but even so her beauty was undiminished.  Deftly sidestepping a fat, hairy half-orc in a stained leather vest and breeches, she slapped away his lecherous hands and stood beside Gorak.  Gorak snarled something in orcish and most of the crowd began to wander away.  One of the men however, said something to Gorak, the meaning of which was made clear when he jingled the heavy coin purse on his belt.  Shayla shot the orc such a withering glare that Khalid was certain that he would fade and wilt like the desert rose under the noontime sun.  Gorak snarled again, and put his arm possessively around Shayla.  The other orc laughed and spoke in crude Western, "Too skinny anyhow."  Then he turned and vanished amid the maze of tents.

"Hi boys," Shayla said brightly, "miss me?"

Khalid was at a loss for words, so Gorak spoke first, "What're ya doing out here Shayla, the desert ain't no place to be wandering around alone at night."

Shayla gave a little toss of her head that flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder, "Well those two friends of Khalid's from the White Tower didn't leave me a lot of choice."

Khalid frequently interrupted her with apologies as she recounted her story, but was again struck speechless when she spoke of her escape from Hazal and Belil.  As Gorak laughed loudly, Khalid whispered aloud to himself, "A sorceress, how remarkable.  So the old bloodlines have held true even through the upheaval. Quite interesting, yes, quite."

Gorak, still chuckling slightly, rumbled, "Well c'mon then, and we'll find you a place to sleep for the night.  Probably best if you stay in my tent with me and Khalid, if you don't mind?"

"It might be a little safer than out here with your cousins," Shayla replied with a wink.

Khalid quickly suppressed the spark of nervousness that flared up within him and spoke, "Ah, so Gorak, did you sort out that business, yes, business with your father?"

Gorak grunted.  "Ya.  He wants me to go out on a hunt tomorrow.  That Easterner picked up some good spoor a day ago.  Might be a good idea.  We'd be heading south through the desert for a few days, and then after we finish up we could just keep moving southwest to Shalazar.  Keeps us off the road for a while."

Khalid nodded, "Yes, that sounds reasonable.  Of course, it's up to Shayla as well now, since she can't go back to Gem-Sharad, yes.  At least, not right away."

Shayla shrugged, "Sounds like fun."

Khalid marveled at the girl.  A six day hike through the desert, and she considered that fun?  "Maybe the innate magic has unbalanced her mind.  Yes, that must be it," he muttered to himself as they entered Gorak's yurt and settled in for the night.

The morning dawned bright and hot, as most mornings do in Al-Qarin.  Khalid was shaken awake by Gorak, who handed him a small loaf of bread and some goat cheese.  "Let's go," Gorak rumbled, "the others are waiting."

Khalid hastily gathered up his meager possessions as he noticed with some chagrin that even Shayla seemed packed up and ready to go.  As he crawled out of the tent, Khalid saw the hunting party assembled outside.  The Easterner, Ronik was there, wearing dune colored leathers and holding an enormous eastern longbow. He was talking quietly to Gormo, Gorak's brother.  Gormo looked as he always did, large and imposing in his piecemeal leathers.  Unlike his father and brother, Gormo had shaved most of his hair off, save for a strip down the center of his scalp that he tied back with a rawhide cord.  He too was carrying a bow, one of the short, tribal hunting bows.  Shayla had forgone her normal city attire and was wearing a long desert robe that was somewhat more practical but no less alluring on her curvaceous form.

"Alright, let's go," Gorak rumbled.

Khalid struggled into his pack as he hurried to catch up with the rest of them.  As near as he could tell it was just after sunup but the camp was already teeming with activity.  He tore a hunk of bread off the loaf Gorak had given him and chewed it regretfully as he walked past cook fires where eggs and fresh ham sizzled in skillets.  He thought of something then, and hurried to the front of the group to keep pace with Gorak.  "Ah Gorak, what exactly are we hunting?"  Khalid asked.

"Hatori."

"Hatori, hatori, hatori…" Khalid muttered to himself, trying to remember where he'd heard the name before.  Realization dawned on him suddenly, and he stopped dead in his tracks.  "Ah, Gorak, do you mean, ah Hatori as in the giant fifty foot lizards they pit dozens of slaves against in the arena?"

"Yup, that's the one.  Now keep up Khalid, we've got a long way to go today." Gorak growled.

Khalid sighed heavily and fell into step at the back of the group.  Things just kept getting better and better.


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## Son_of_Thunder

*Excellent!!!!*

EternalNewbie,

I just wanted to add my praise to this campaign journal. I love the desert dwelling orcs and thugs of the White Tower (although if'n I was playing the sorcerer I woulda tried to put a bolt through them).

Keep up the good work,

Son of Thunder

Looks to be one of the top five story hours


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## ledded

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> <snip>  Thanks to those who have posted replies for truly your kind words are the fuel for my creative spark. Heh. <snip>




Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  Kind words.  

Ok that ought ta fill up the old tanks for a while   

Great story hour, BTW.  I love your writing style, and the characterizations of the protagonists.  Quite nice.


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## barsoomcore

Keep it up, Newbie. The orcs are great -- and I'm wondering about the story between Gorak and Shayla...?

Good stuff!


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## EternalNewbie

Okay, since I don't actually have time to write up an update I thought maybe I'd post a little background information about the characters, world, our gaming group.

First off, Khalid's accent isn't really, well an accent.  It doesn't translate particularly well to text.  If you want a better idea of what he sounds like, it's pretty close to Keifer Sutherland's character, the doctor, in Dark City.  That wasn't intentional on my part, just the way it turned out.

Second, it may not be apparent from the story, but even though wizards can no longer memorize and cast spells, all types of stored magic (wands, staves, and scrolls) still function as normal and can be utilized by wizards of sufficient level.  Suffice it to say that it's a good thing Shayla didn't try to put a bolt in one of them.  We got an opportunity to find out what those wands Hazal and Belil carry actually do in a later adventure  

As for Gorak and Shayla I believe their backstory goes something like this.  Gorak's father, Magol, and his tribe of orcs scour the desert for wild and dangerous animals for use in the great arena of Gem-Sharad.  Shayla's father is a prominent merchant and, well, fight promoter and thus has done extensive business with Magol's tribe.  The two met during one of these numerous business deals.  You probably have a reasonably good feel for Shayla's character from the story and can see why she would, as an impetous and spoiled teenager, have delighted in hanging out with Gorak, much to her father's annoyance.  They remained close after her father disowned her (for various reasons).  As for the rest of the details concerning Shayla and Gorak well, at this point in the story, Khalid doesn't know, and thus neither do you  

Incidentally, Shayla is played by my girlfriend, and is a complete newbie to gaming which may serve to explain some of her actions during some of the encounters.  The person that plays Gorak, myself and Galeman have been gaming for years together (so Gorak and I have no excuse for all the stupid things we do later on  ), although this is the first time we've all lived in the same city for any period of time.

Okay, that's enough semi-relevant information from me.  Sorry if anybody got fooled by this and came here looking for an update.  Hopefully I'll have another part up early next week.  Thank you for you continued patronage and please visit the gift shop on your way out.

-----------------
Eternal Newbie - because some things are forever...


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## pogre

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> Okay, that's enough semi-relevant information from me.  Sorry if anybody got fooled by this and came here looking for an update.  Hopefully I'll have another part up early next week.  Thank you for you continued patronage and please visit the gift shop on your way out.



Nonsense, I enjoyed reading about it. Oh wait... no, I'm indignant - I demand an update immediately!


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## barsoomcore

Yeah, we're all, like, indignant 'n' stuff! That's right!

*looks indignant*

How's that?


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## Ziggy

I'm not indignant, but I still want an update. 

I like your story, well written and interesting characters. It got that intangible something that makes you hungry for what is going to happen further down the road.

.Ziggy


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## ledded

Ziggy said:
			
		

> I like your story, well written and interesting characters. It got that intangible something that makes you hungry for what is going to happen further down the road




Well said, my man, very well said.



			
				Ziggy said:
			
		

> I'm not indignant, but I still want an update.




I'm not either, but I *can* be, if it helps...


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## Morgoth the Pure

*If Morgoth wasn't busy in the East...*

he'd stab Gorak.  Right in the face.


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## EternalNewbie

Morgoth the Pure said:
			
		

> he'd stab Gorak.  Right in the face.




Yeah, well he'll never get the chance now will he?  Because *somebody* had to move to the other side of the country and end the campaign.  Now stop hijacking my story hour because you're all bitter you can't play  

(For those who aren't privy to the inside joke, Morgoth was one of the original players when this world was created.  He played a wizard called Zanzabar, who's name will probably come up at some point during this campaign.)


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## pogre

Still feigning an indignant countenance here...

Hoping for an update.

A friendly, hopefully motivating
Bump!


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## EternalNewbie

Ask and ye shall receive.  Sorry about the delay but I managed to come down with bronchitis, resulting in the delay of not only the long awaited story hour update, but also one of my finals too.  Now I normally have my updates proofed by either Shayla or Gorak (both of whom are English majors) before posting, but since neither is around at the moment I'm going to put this up anyhow and have them edit it later, so there may be a few errors I haven't caught.  The posts will come a little more frequently now, I promise, and as always comments and criticisms are welcome and encouraged.  But that's enough from me, on to the story...

* * * * * * * * * *​
Khalid concentrated.  Left foot, then the right foot.  Always moving, always forward.  He lifted his head slightly and peered out at the desolate wasteland around him.  For three days they had marched through the desert, beneath the oppressive sun that fell upon them like a smith's hammer on the anvil.  Slowly, the rolling waves of sand had turned to hardpan, cracked and bleached.  The footing had improved, but little else.  In every direction, as far as the eye could see, was barren desert featureless save for the pools of glittering water that danced and played at the edge of his vision always just beyond reach. Mirages.  The very thought made Khalid reach for his waterskin.  He took a long pull and marveled at its freshness.  Out here, in this empty and forbidding place, Gorak had shown his true power.  Khalid had originally decided that the half-orc was nothing more than his father was, a hunter and tracker.  Gorak had proved to be much more than that however.  He did not simply read the features of the land to learn its secrets.  He spoke to it, and it spoke back.  On the first morning, when they awoke still shivering from the cold night air, Khalid had almost entered a panic when he realized that his waterskin was dry.  Gorak however, had remained calm and had said not to worry.  Then he did something remarkable: he began to chant. Khalid did not understand the words, but he recognized their purpose quickly enough.  Slowly, from Gorak's outstretched hand, a thin mist appeared which slowly thickened into a steady stream of water.  They had quickly filled their skins as the stream faded to a trickle and then stopped altogether. Khalid couldn't begin to comprehend the formulae needed to draw water from the air in this parched and arid place.

Khalid prepared himself for surprises from the rest of his companions as well, after the shocks delivered by both Shayla and Gorak, but none were forthcoming.  Yet at least. Gormo, Gorak's brother, had failed to reveal any startling powers, except perhaps for his capacity to be crude and annoy Khalid.  The Easterner, Ronik, had proved a capable guide, if somewhat reserved, and had led them unerringly through the desert.  He was following no tracks now however, simply leading them to where he had last glimpsed the hatori.  Khalid scowled darkly at that thought.  Gorak had let him believe that little half-truth for almost a day. They weren't going to be trying to capture a full grown hatori, a feat which required scores of armored men with nets, ropes and a strong lack of common sense, but instead were following the trail of a pregnant hatori in the hopes that it would lead them to a clutch of eggs.  Although Khalid relished the prospect of facing a pregnant and cornered hatori even less, Gorak had assured him that by the time they picked up the trail, the hatori would have already given birth, and moved on.  Khalid's brief reverie was interrupted by a terse comment from Ronik. 

"There."

Khalid moved forward beside him and peered out at the desert in the direction he was pointing.  "Ah, yes, more rock and sand, quite interesting.  Yes, quite."

"Look closer Westman."

Khalid strained he eyes to see what the Easterner was so interested in. "Ah, yes, all I see is a brown smudge on the horizon."

Gorak rumbled as he shaded his eyes with his hand, and stared out into the wasteland, "That's the tor then?"

Ronik nodded, "Yes.  It's further away than it looks.  We should reach it tomorrow morning sometime, if we can keep up this pace."  He glanced at Khalid and Shayla.

Khalid flushed slightly at the insinuation but really couldn't dispute it.  He glanced at Shayla as well.  If he was finding this trek harsh, he couldn't imagine how she was faring.  She hadn't complained yet however and even after three days of wandering through the desert she still looked as beautiful as ever, albeit somewhat dustier.

The group pushed on into the early evening before setting up camp and started moving again just before dawn.  Their destination was much clearer now: a huge jumble of rock that jutted up from the desert like the spine of some long dead behemoth buried deep beneath the desert floor.  As they approached, Khalid moved up beside Gorak and asked, "Ah, yes, you have been here before?  What can we expect?"

Gorak nodded, "Ya, a long time ago.  It's a cluster of rocks, maybe five or six miles wide, maybe fifteen or twenty miles long the way we're hitting it, shot through with gullies and ravines.  Shouldn't be too hard to track the hatori, there's only so many places it'll fit."

Ronik's estimate proved correct, and the troupe made it to the first rocky outcropping before the sun had risen more than halfway through the sky.  Working together, it took the three trackers, Gorak, Gormo, and Ronik only a matter of minutes to find the remnants of the great beast's trail.  Even the passage of a little more than a week had failed to completely erase the trail, although there was little left save for a few shallow indents in the sand.

"It's a good thing you marked where it entered, I don't think I woulda been able to find this," Gorak rumbled.

Ronik only nodded as he pointed out the indentation of the beast's foot.  Khalid shuddered slightly as the thought of meeting the great creature within the confines of one of the ravines ahead rose unbidden in his mind.  He fervently prayed that Gorak was right and that the Hatori would be long gone.

The group began to pick their way through the boulders and stones that rose up from the ground around them.  To Khalid's mind the odd windswept formations resembled nothing more than squat little men hunched upon the ground.  His musing was cut short however, by a piercing shriek that ripped through the still desert air.  Khalid uttered a strangled yelp and practically took flight, so startled was he by the sound.  "Ah, yes, what was that?"

"Quiet." Gorak rumbled.  Gormo and Ronik both had arrows drawn on their bows, but Gorak was waving them back.  Even Shayla had her crossbow loaded, Khalid noticed with some chagrin, although her knuckles were white upon the grip.  Gorak slowly moved forward, staring intently at a rocky spire rising from the desert some fifty feet away.  Perched upon its peak was the largest bird Khalid had ever seen.  It had plumage similar to that of an eagle, but its wingspan was impossibly huge, more than twenty feet across.  Its wings were outstretched now, beating slowly as the creature looked about to take flight.  Incredibly, Gorak kept inching forward and then to Khalid's complete amazement, he began to croon just loudly enough for the giant bird to hear him.  The bird let out another shrill cry and beat its wings faster, although it still did not take flight.

"Gorak," Ronik hissed, "whatever you're trying to do, I don't think it likes it."

Gorak stopped crooning and slowly moved back towards the party.  "It's protecting young," he growled.  "There's no way to get by it without killing it."

"Ah, yes, kill it? Do you think you could bring it down with, ah, your bows?"  Khalid asked.

The three archers looked at one another.  "Maybe," Gormo grunted.  "It'll be damn fast though, once it gets up in the air."

"Maybe we can just go around it," Gorak grumbled.  "No sense wasting the arrows if we don't hafta."  He looked at Ronik.

The Easterner scratched that the stubble on his chin.  "Probably, if we pick the right path.  These fissures and cracks intersect each other all over the place."

That decided the group backtracked a little ways, then cut further east before entering the rock formation.  As they moved deeper inwards, the jumbled rocks and small outcroppings soon became towering spires and sheer walls that rose up as high as twenty feet above them.  The hours passed and the shadows slowly leaned from right to left as the sun passed overhead.  Ronik and Gorak took the lead, stopping often to confirm their direction.  At times the path was so narrow that they had to walk single file and at other times it branched out as the walls gave way to pillars of stone.  Even then the party stayed close together, heeding Gorak's warnings about becoming separated in the twisting maze of passages.  Although they spoke infrequently, Khalid could tell that Gorak and Ronik were becoming increasingly frustrated that they hadn't been able to cut far enough west thus far to rejoin the larger path through the rocks.  Finally, Ronik called a halt.

"I think…" Ronik began but his words were cut short as a javelin clattered off the rocks beside his head.   Four more fell in rapid succession, one scoring a line of blood on Gorak's arm.

"Rock goblins!" Gormo roared as he nocked an arrow to his bow and fired upwards.

Khalid glanced skyward and saw a twisted little face glaring down at him.  It's skin was a dull brownish gray that almost perfectly matched the rock around them.  Similar to others of its breed its face was fat and round, with tiny fangs that jutted from its lower jaw.  Khalid realized that the columns around them were broad and flat at the top, and the little creatures were scurrying about, raining down javelins on them.  He jumped slightly as one of the missiles narrowly missed his foot.  

Ronik too had put an arrow to his bow and fired, with better result than Gormo.  He caught one of the creatures just under the chin, and his longbow had punched the arrow straight through the top of its head.  It fell from its rocky perch without even a sound.  In return for his efforts however, one of the little devils threw true and sunk a javelin into Ronik's upper thigh.  He gasped and staggered under the blow, but remained on his feet.

Gorak turned and leapt at the cliff face beside him in an attempt to climb it, but the stone crumbled beneath his thick fingers and he slid back down to the ground.  Shayla had fired her crossbow but the angle had caused her to misjudge her aim, and the bolt slammed into the cliff face below the goblin she'd been aiming at.  Another volley of javelins sailed down from the cliff tops causing Shayla to cry out as one of them grazed the side of her face.  

At last Khalid gained his composure and acted.  He glanced about for the largest group of the creatures.  Slightly to his right he saw three heads poking just over the lip of one of the columns.  With a trembling hand he reached into the pouch at his belt and drew out a fistful of sand, far more than the spell required, and practically hurled it at the crouching figures.  Even as the words left his lips however, and the flood of magic rushed through him, he felt the old doubts, the old fears settle in.  As the last syllable left his lips he realized that he had only felled one of the creatures.

Again Gormo and Ronik returned fire, with Gormo dropping one.  Ronik's aim however was hampered by his wound and flew wide.  Gorak had finally gained the top of one of the columns and the little creatures began to flee before him.  Shayla, still slightly dazed from the near miss backed away and began to chant.  Once again a thick mist rose up to hide her from her enemies.  The tiny assailants, with several of their number down, and realizing that they were facing opponents beyond their measure, broke and ran.  Khalid took the opportunity to step within the protective embrace of Shayla's spell.  He heard a sickening impact and, after he was sure it was safe, stepped out of the mist to see the broken body of a rock goblin at the base of the column below Gorak.

"They've all run off," Gorak growled.  "Was another five of the little bastards up here."  He climbed down from his perch.  "Now what?"

Ronik cursed.  "There could be a whole tribe of those things in here.  They'll be dropping stuff on us from one end to the other, and it doesn't look like this path is going to take us anywhere near where we want to go.  We have to turn back."  He leaned heavily against the rock wall.  "Now somebody pull this stick out of me."

Gormo moved towards him, but Gorak pushed him aside.  "Let me do it," he growled.  To his credit, Ronik didn't make a sound as Gorak pulled out the crude javelin.  "Now brace yerself, this is really gonna hurt."  This time, he did gasp and turn deathly pale as Gorak jammed his hand back into the wound, and began to chant.  When Gorak withdrew his hand however, stained with gore and some sort of evil smelling black bile, the flesh closed behind it.  

Ronik took a deep breath, then tested his weight upon the leg.  As the colour slowly returned to his face, he nodded.  "Thanks."

Somewhat downcast, the party spent the rest of the day heading back the way they came.  After a brief deliberation, they decided to pitch their camp within the rock formation and move back towards the giant eagle from the other side.   The hope was that in the morning it would either be gone, or that a way around could be found before encountering it.

As they made their way back north the next morning, Gorak dropped back to speak to Khalid.  He rumbled, "So, that spell you cast.  It knocks things out for what, hours?" 

"Ah, yes, no, minutes actually, when it works," Khalid couldn't hide the bitterness that crept into his voice.  "Unless of course, the subject is already ah, quite tired, yes quite," he continued.  "It was a common prank for the apprentices to cast it on one another, yes, during a long night of studying.  Most of the time, ah, you wouldn't wake up until morning.  Ah, actually, they mainly just used to do that to me, yes, quite."  Khalid frowned and fell silent.

Gorak rejoined Ronik in the lead as they neared the spot the great bird had made its perch.  Luck wasn't with them this day however, and the great bird was still there.  This time it didn't even hesitate to threaten them as Gorak stepped out from among the rocks.  As the giant eagle launched itself into the air the party began setting arrows to bows.  The creature reacted first and plummeted out of the sky towards Ronik.  As it flew past one if its huge claws raked across his chest, lifting him off his feet and spinning him completely around.  A thick spray of blood coated the rocks around him as he landed, but by some sheer effort of will he remained standing.   As the bird raced past a volley of arrows followed, several striking true.  Khalid steadied himself, preparing to cast a spell on the things next pass.  As it wheeled about in the sky and dove down upon them again, the bird let out a tremendous shriek.  Khalid steeled his nerve and once again drew a handful of sand from his component pouch.  This time his spell was even less effective unfortunately, and Khalid was forced to dive to the ground to avoid the thing's grasping talons.  Gorak too was forced to dodge aside as the bird narrowly missed him as it shot down the narrow gully.  Again the twang of bowstrings filled the air followed by the heavier report of Shayla's crossbow and again several of the arrows landed true.  The great bird was badly injured now, and slowly glided to the ground in front of them.  As it hopped forward still intent on attack, Gormo finished it off with one final arrow.

Khalid moved forward to study the majestic bird.  Its great plumage was now streaked with dust and gore.   After tending to the Ronik's wound, Gorak too moved over to the bird.  He stood there silently for a moment, then grunted, "It's the way of things."  Then he drew out his long hunting knife and set to work hacking the bird up.  "No sense letting all this meat go to waste," he grumbled.  "Somebody get a fire going."

* * * * * * * * * *​
The entire next day, the party kept moving through the rocks, shadowing the trail of the great hatori.  The passage was larger here, and travel easier but still they moved cautiously after the events of the last two days.  As the walls rose up higher around the ravine, a decision was made to try and follow it from the top, rather than remain down below.  The footing became more treacherous and long detours were necessary when the trail above became impassable.  Khalid was just on the verge of complaining when the wisdom of their plan was revealed to him.  Ronik hurriedly motioned for silence from his scouting position, and then waved the rest forward.  Khalid dropped to his stomach and crawled to the lip of the gully.  When he reached the edge he was greeted by the sight of a creature the likes of which he had never seen before.  Crouched down, twenty feet below them before a shallow cave in the ravine wall, was a strange lizard-like creature.  It had a long sinuous body covered with mottled brown scales, and tiny forelegs that it was using to dig out what Khalid could only assume were hatori eggs.  Its long snout was filled with dagger sized teeth that were covered with the thick albumen of the hatori eggs.  Its tiny, beady eyes were intent on its task, and the ruins of half a dozen eggs lay scattered around it.  It's long whip-like tail twitched slowly back and forth, whipping up little puffs of sand.  As Khalid leaned forward to get a better look at its size, it seemed to be about six feet long and about the same height at the shoulder, he thought to himself, "The teeth on that thing…it could probably bite my face off."

Suddenly, the edge of the ravine crumbled beneath Khalid's hand and a shower of stones rolled down into the gully.  The raptor's head came up immediately at the sound, and it whipped around staring straight up at the sound of the noise.  Khalid's thoughts changed immediately as the creature moved incredibly, impossibly fast, "BY THE LOST GODS THAT THING IS GOING TO BITE MY FACE OFF!" With two quick steps the raptor bunched itself up and leapt the twenty feet from the ravine floor to the plateau on top landing beside Ronik.  As Ronik feebly tried to protect his vitals, the raptor became a whirling dervish of claws and teeth.  For the third time in as many days, more of Ronik's blood lay outside his body than in, as the creature savaged him again and again.  Khalid frantically scrabbled backwards, away from the raptor as it continued its deadly assault on Ronik.  Once again the words of magic came unbidden to his mind in a time of stress, and a blanket of calm settled on Khalid as he began to chant.  This time he didn't even reach for his spell components, he simply picked up a handful of sand from the ground beneath him and flung it towards the creature.

As the last of his words echoed through the cavern, the beast raised its head and stared directly at Khalid.  Ronik's blood mingled with the ruins of the hatori eggs, and a thick drool of gore dripped down from the things massive fangs.  Slowly, it bunched itself up, its great muscles trembling beneath its scaly hide as it prepared to pounce.  Then the raptor blinked.  Once, then twice. Then the creature slowly pitched forward onto its nose, and fell soundly asleep.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"So you'll remind him?" Gorak grumbled.

"Ya, ya, for all the good it'll do," Gormo growled. "The only money Da spends faster than his own is somebody else's.  But I'll remind him he owes you fifty gold for the egg."

"See that you do.  I'll be back to collect as soon as I'm finished in Shalazar."

Gormo grunted in response as he slowly wrapped a hatori egg up in a thick blanket.  Despite the depredations of the raptor, the party had managed to uncover one intact hatori egg from the cache.

"We ready to move out?" Ronik asked.  He was still moving slowly in the chill morning air, despite or perhaps because of Gorak's healing magic.  All that remained of the raptor's fearsome assault was a few pink scars, a slight limp and a few new holes in his leather armor.  He and Gormo were turning back now, heading back to the tribe with the egg, while Gorak, Shayla and Khalid pushed on to Shalazar.

"You got enough water?" Gorak rumbled.

"We should, if we're careful with it," Ronik replied, as he shifted his pack into a more comfortable position.  "Been fun," was his only parting remark as he turned back north.

Gormo said even less, pausing only to slap Gorak on the shoulder as he followed Ronik.  Gorak picked up his pack, and slung it over his shoulder alongside the wicker basket that held Sousee, his pet snake.  The three were quiet as they marched east out of the ravine and once again into the rolling dunes of the desert.

At about midmorning, Khalid finally broke the silence, "Ah, so, we should hit the road in what, two or three days, yes?"
Gorak grunted, "Ya. I'm gonna keep us moving more east than south.  The river bends due east and if we head too far south before we turn, we'll end up runnin' along side it instead of into the road.  If we're lucky we'll come out of the desert near one of the half dozen or so villages that line the road from Gem-Sharad to Shalazar.  We can maybe get some fresh food and find a place to lay up for the night."

Khalid nodded in response and took a deep breath of the desert air.  He felt that he was finally getting used to this whole outdoors thing.  Even the strange sounds and animal cries no longer kept him up at night.  That being said, he decided that he'd still feel a lot better when they'd reached Shalazar.

Shayla, who had been unusually quiet over during the tense hunt of the last few days, now kept them occupied with a seemingly never-ending stream of conversation as they journeyed on throughout the day.  As siesta came and went however, Khalid noticed Gorak becoming more sullen and withdrawn than usual.   During a pause in Shayla's description of one of her many suitors, a long low howl echoed from a distant dune top.  Khalid took the opportunity to engage Gorak in conversation in an attempt to draw him out.  "Ah, yes, that animal howl, I've heard it a few times now, what do you suppose it is?  A hyena, perhaps coyote, yes?" he asked.

"It's a dog," Gorak growled.

"Ah, dog? Yes, what would a dog being doing out here in the deep desert…" Khalid stopped dead in his tracks as the realization slowly dawned on him.

"Following us." Gorak muttered.  "It gets worse.  I count three of them from the howls."  He slowly turned and looked at both Shayla and Khalid.  "And they're getting closer."


----------



## pogre

Back to the first page with ye'!
BUMP
Thanks for the update.


----------



## EternalNewbie

Alrighty, I can see by the clock on the wall that it's about time for another update.  I honestly wasn't very pleased with the last one.  It felt rushed, and the combat was a little flat.  I'm going to try to make the battles more cinematic I think, and worry less about who did what each round.  Don't worry though, I'm not going to skip over anything important and I'll try to keep the pace of the battle the same as it actually was.  I also noticed how hard it is to make low level combat interesting, simply because of the lack of variety.  Unfortunately most of the fights we got in right at the start were fairly significant in terms of what's going on.  I may gloss over some of the random encounters in future updates.

I also had the rest of my group read it first this time, so it's a little more accurate than the last one.  Heh, Gorak's gonna kill me for pointing this out, but he made a mistake during this adventure.  I wonder if you can tell what it is from the update...    Anyhow, the gaming group is sitting around the table downstairs, and I hear the familar clatter of dice, so it's time for me to get my game on.  Enjoy.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"Now we'll see just how good these trackers are," Gorak growled.  "You two get some rest, I'll be back in half an hour, or at least before the moon rises."

Khalid collapsed to the ground without even bothering to remove his pack.  Shayla hesitated only briefly to shrug off her rucksack before joining him.  They both took long pulls from their water skins and then sat in silence for a while, too tired to even speak.  The day's journey had been hellish.  With the threat of capture hanging over their heads, the trio had set a grueling pace.  Led by Gorak, they had forged through the desert steering clear of all ridgelines and oases.  Through the use of Gorak's magic, they had traveled through siesta unhampered by the blistering sun.  Despite the long march however, Khalid could find no rest in the last fading moments of daylight.  He waited anxiously for Gorak's return, half afraid that it would not be Gorak who crested the dune to the east, but the faceless bounty hunter, ready to drag him back to the White Tower to face Halaal's tender mercy.

The full moon had just risen, a pale mockery of the desert sun, when Gorak returned.  Khalid didn't even give him a chance to catch his breath before he spoke, "Ah, yes, so is there any sign of him?  I have not heard the hounds for some time now."

As though the gods mocked him, no sooner had Khalid spoke then a long howl split the night air and raised the hair on the back of his neck.  Gorak leaned forward, with his hands braced on his knees and took several deep breaths before he growled, "He's a persistent bastard to have tracked us this far, and he's not likely to give up yet.  I doubled back and ran a false trail heading more south, and brushed out our tracks.  We'll find out how good he is in the morning, if he can keep to the trail."

"Ah, perhaps we should push on a bit further, yes quite."  Khalid suggested.

"Ya, I was thinking the same thing.  Wouldn't hurt to put a few more miles between us." Gorak rumbled.

Shayla's only response was a tortured groan before she pushed herself back up to her feet and shouldered her pack.  The three set off again under the pale glow of the full moon.  Driven by fear, Khalid found new strength and lengthened his stride.  Gorak and Shayla however, did not fair as well.  After the first hour, Gorak was breathing heavily and Shayla had stopped complaining.  After the second hour, Gorak called a halt.  "I'm gonna run myself into the ground if we keep up this pace," he growled between labored breaths.

"Ah, yes, maybe just a little further?"  Khalid asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

"I think maybe we should just stop here," Shayla said.  A look of faint surprise crossed her face as her legs gave out and she found herself abruptly sitting on the ground. 

"Khalid, we can't go no further.  Not tonight.  I've run myself out doubling back to hide our trail and Shayla's finished.  We'll break camp early tomorrow."  Gorak rumbled as he dumped Sousee out on the ground.  The snake gave an annoyed little hiss and then curled up.  "Now get some sleep.  Sousee will wake me if anybody comes around."

That decided the group pitched a hasty camp.  It felt as though mere moments had passed from the time that Khalid wrapped himself in his bedroll to when Gorak was shaking him awake.  The sun had not yet risen and the only indication of the time was a faint lightening of the eastern sky.  "C'mon," Gorak growled, "we've gotta get moving."

"Ah, but I haven't had anything to eat yet," Khalid said plaintively.

"Fine, then you get started on breakfast and when that bounty hunter comes over that dune, you can offer him some biscuits and a nice hot cup of tea," Gorak snarled.

With the reminder of the tracker following them, Khalid came fully awake and began to frantically pack up his gear.  "Ah, no, that's quite all right, yes quite, I'll just eat some of these cold rations we have left," Khalid sighed.

By midmorning it became apparent that they had not lost their follower.  Just as Khalid had begun to relax, sure in the knowledge that Gorak had covered their tracks, a long wailing howl reached them.  To Khalid's untrained ear it sounded as the dogs were just on the other side of the dune and he looked to Gorak, trying to fight back the rising panic.

Gorak had his head cocked and was listening intently.  Then he cursed.  "He must be running hard.  Don't sound like he's much closer, but we sure ain't lost him yet."

Again the three set off across the desert, moving as quickly as the terrain and temperature would permit.  They traveled in silence for the most part, as even the effort of conversation seemed too much to bear.  Finally, by late afternoon, Khalid could stand the tension no longer and spoke, "Ah, we haven't heard the hounds in some time, do you think perhaps we lost them now?"  He looked at Gorak hopefully.

"Nope.  The quiet don't mean we've lost em, it means their close.  Real close.  We're gonna have to make a decision pretty soon.  I don't think we're gonna make the road before they catch us."  Gorak growled.

"Ah, are you sure? Perhaps if we moved a little faster, yes quite…"

Gorak shot Khalid a withering glare.  "Of course I ain't sure.  No way to tell how close behind us they are.  But listen, if we run to the road, and we get caught, we're gonna be exhausted, too tired to fight maybe.  And even if we do make the road, they'll be right on our trail all the way to Shalazar.  Now I dunno about you, but I'm getting a little tired of being chased.  I say we find a nice spot to dig in, catch our breath, and settle this out here in the deep desert where nobody will bother us."

At that point, Shayla chimed in, "I'm with Gorak on this one Khalid, I'm tired of running.  Besides, we three aren't such easy prey."

"Ah, yes, quite," Khalid looked dubiously at the other two.  "It would seem then, that we should find a defensible, yes quite, defensible position."

"That could be tricky," Gorak grunted.  "Ain't nothing out here but sand and rock.  We'll move a bit further on, and see what we can come across before it gets too dark."

Gorak ranged ahead as they continued to travel west into the setting sun.  The last traces of daylight had just vanished beyond the horizon when Gorak jogged back to Khalid and Shayla.  "I found something," he grumbled. "Ain't much, but it's the best we're gonna find out here."

Khalid's heart sank when they reached the spot Gorak had picked out.  By Khalid's estimation, Gorak's assessment had been grossly inflated.  The defensible position he had chosen was nothing more than two rocks, some ten feet apart.  They were only waist high, and no more than five feet across.  The edges and tops had been worn smooth by centuries of blowing desert sand.  "Ah, yes, not much indeed.  Yes, quite," he muttered.

"Well, at least it'll keep the dogs from getting around at your back," Shayla said brightly as she dropped her pack behind one of the rocks and cocked her crossbow.

"Yes, quite." Khalid muttered.  If he didn't know better, he'd almost have sworn that this affluent and beautiful young woman was spoiling for a fight, miles away from civilization in the deep desert against a man or men who made their living hunting down fugitives and criminals.  Khalid sighed in resignation, then followed Shayla's lead, and cocked his crossbow.  He then started digging around in his spell component pouch, finally drawing out a tiny strip of leather.  With a word and almost casual gesture, Khalid invoked a spell, and glowing bands of energy rippled out from the tiny hoop of leather, wrapping around Khalid's limbs and body.  In the blink of an eye, the glowing bands vanished and Khalid sighed in relief.  It still never ceased to amaze him that his spells worked so effortlessly now.  Then remembering the task at hand, he looked up to find Shayla staring at him quizzically.

"What did you just do?" she asked.

"Ah, a simple protection spell, yes quite," suddenly Khalid felt guilty.  "Ah, I'm sorry, if I had another prepared, yes, quite but you see, my power it is, ah, quite limited, yes quite."

Shayla waved away his apology. "Don't worry about me, I know how to take care of myself," she said with a toss of her head that flicked her auburn curls over her shoulder.  She moved over to one of the rocks.  "Gorak, you figure they'll be coming up over that dune there?"

Gorak, who was restringing his bow, grunted, "Sure.  If we're lucky they'll be so busy following our trail that they won't see us until it's too late.

Shayla knelt down behind the rock and placed her crossbow on top.  From the quiver at her hip she drew out a single bolt and loaded it into her cocked crossbow, then carefully checked the sights and the angle on the ridges of the various dunes.  

Khalid had no doubt that Shayla could take care of herself, especially having seen the easy way she handled a crossbow.  He then fumbled a bolt out of his own quiver, picked it up off the ground and slid it into his crossbow with shaking fingers.  "Ah, yes, Gorak, should we, ah make any sort of plan or anything?"

Gorak looked up from where he was tightening the wrappings on the cudgel he normally carried at his waist.  "The dogs'll probably come first.  I'll keep em busy while you finish them off with your crossbows, then…"

"Ah, yes, Gorak, ah I'm not a particularly good shot with a crossbow," Khalid stammered.

Gorak bristled at the interruption and continued, "while you two finish them off with crossbows, then I'll try to intercept the trackers, give you two a chance to work your magic.  That's the plan."

"Ah, yes quite," Khalid said, feeling less than reassured by Gorak's hasty planning. "But what about..."

"Khalid," Gorak growled.  "Ain't no sense thinking about it.  You can't figure out what's gonna happen, until it happens, then you just gotta act.  Now sit down and shaddup, or we'll be the ones getting a surprise."

They sat in silence as the shadows deepened and the sun faded from view.  The moon rose, full and bright like the night before, leeching the color from the barren desert and granting everything a pale luminance that almost seemed ethereal.  Khalid shivered as the temperature began to fall rapidly.  He was just about ready to risk Gorak's wrath, and start hunting around for his cloak when the hounds crested the eastern dune.  The huge mastiffs were little more than black shadows, silent and quick, as they raced down the dune towards the party.  Gorak stepped out from behind the rock he was sharing with Shayla, and moved forward to intercept the dogs.  He stopped ten feet from the rock, and began to chant in his thick guttural voice.  As his chanting rose to a crescendo, he raised his arms to the heavens and barked the last syllable.  The sand in front of him erupted into a rolling quagmire*.  The hounds were forced to dodge aside, twisting and cutting, to avoid the grasping claws of sand, but still they ran on.  

Shayla, her crossbow steadied on the rock, fired and was rewarded with a yelp of pain as one of the dogs stumbled, a crossbow bolt lodged in its flank.  It did not falter however, and Shayla abandoned her cover to put more distance between herself and the hounds.

Khalid raised his shaking crossbow to his shoulder and realized that the hounds were almost on top of Gorak, and he couldn't get a clean shot.  Moving slightly he fired at the trailing mastiff, but his shot flew wide and the bolt vanished into the violent maelstrom of sand.

The first of the hounds leapt at Gorak, who just barely managed to get his arm up in front of his throat.  The huge canine latched onto his arm with its enormous jaws and Gorak bellowed out in pain.  The other hound circled Gorak carefully but was kept at bay by Gorak's cudgel.  Gorak in turn tried to smash the beast worrying at his arm, but the creature's thrashing prevented him from landing a clear blow. 

Shayla had reloaded her crossbow and lined up a shot, but missed as the dog shied away from Gorak's cudgel again.  Cursing, she braced the crossbow on the ground and began to load it again.

Khalid, with a spell on his lips, was just about to run to the aid of Gorak when he heard a sound that froze his blood.  Chanting, from somewhere to the north.  Khalid realized with horror how close he was standing to Shayla.  He tried to shout a warning, but the words came out thick and slurred as a heavy lassitude settled on him, and he felt his knees begin to buckle.  In slow motion, he watched Shayla slump forward, her crossbow tumbling from nerveless fingers as she fell face first in the sand.  As darkness descended on him, Khalid thought he heard laughter faint and distant.  For the briefest second, he was transported back to his days in the White Tower.  Hazal casting a spell while the other apprentices laughed as he fell asleep on his desk.  Almost missing an exam and being berated by Halaal for almost an hour for his careless attitude and lack of progress.  A spark of anger flared up deep in Khalid's heart and began to burn away the magical lethargy gripping him.  His knees locked as the tips of his fingers touched the sand.  "Not again," Khalid growled, as he stood upright.  He scanned the desert for the caster and spotted a faint shadow almost at the edge his vision, vanishing back into the gloom.  There was no hesitation now, only a cold fire that consumed Khalid.  The words of magic rolled from his lips as with a broad sweeping gesture, he flung a handful of sand into the air.  As the sand glittered and sparkled in the pale moonlight, Khalid grinned in satisfaction as the shadowed form toppled to the ground.

A cry of pain from Gorak wiped the smirk from his face however.  As Khalid turned, he saw Gorak still fending off the two animals.  His blood was streaming down from his shredded arm, and pooling in the sand at his feet.  The mastiff still had him in its unrelenting grip however.  The other had circled around and was tearing at Gorak's furs, dragging him off balance.  Sousee had slithered over at Gorak's command, and was curled up threateningly behind him, lashing out whenever one of the dogs ventured too close.  As the mastiff shied away from the enormous snake, Gorak struck out with a heavy blow, catching the hound on the side of the head and sending it staggering backwards.

"Gorak!" Khalid screamed, "Get out of the way! Back up!" as he raced over to aid him.  With a Herculean effort, Gorak wrenched his arm free from the mastiff's mouth, sending a spray of blood arcing into the air, and stumbled backwards.  Khalid skidded to a halt five feet from one of the dogs and began to chant again.  The two hounds spun around at the sound of Khalid's voice just as a burning cone of white-hot embers erupted from Khalid's hands.  Both hounds collapsed to the ground, their smoking hides seared and burned by Khalid's spell.

Suddenly, everything was quiet again.  It had only taken a matter of seconds.  Khalid's ears were ringing, and his heart was racing.  His breath was coming in short quick gasps as he surveyed the scene around him.  Shayla groaned in her sleep, and shifted slightly, still struggling against the magical slumber.

"Where's the others?" Gorak snarled through clenched teeth, his cudgel still raised threateningly.

"Ah, yes, ah, he's ah, over…" Khalid took a deep breath and started again.  "Ah, yes, I rendered him unconscious, yes quite.  He's over that way, about a hundred feet or so.  We should, yes, tie him up if you have any rope."

Gorak seemed to relax a little at that, and grunted in ascent.  He tucked his cudgel into a loop on his belt and moved over to his pack.  Drawing out a length of rope, he headed out towards where the bounty hunter had fallen.  Khalid in turn, moved over to Shayla.  As he placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her awake she sat up suddenly with a dagger in her hand and murder in her eyes.  Khalid uttered a startled shriek and tumbled backwards into the sand.  

"Ah, yes, the fight is over, Gorak is taking care of our friend over there," Khalid said as he stood, brushing sand from his robes and attempting to recover some of his dignity.

Shayla looked around at the carnage in the camp, her knuckles still white upon her dagger.  Then she smiled, "Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Khalid bit back a scathing remark and smiled weakly, "Ah, yes, no I guess it wasn't."  

That night, the three of them decided to keep a vigil over their prisoner, but despite the fact that Khalid drew last watch, sleep was a long time in coming for him.  He relived the battle over and over again in his mind.  Slowly as the fear of the moment faded into memory, Khalid felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.  Khalid felt strong.  His will was steady and his magic had worked when it counted the most.  Slowly, as the last of the adrenaline left his system and exhaustion set in, Khalid's eyes slowly closed.  The smile on his face however, lasted until the morning.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"What?"  Khalid looked at Shayla incredulously.

"I say we kill him."  Shayla repeated.

"Ah, I'm not sure that's entirely warranted.  Yes, quite." Khalid objected.

"Well if we're gonna kill him, I'm gonna get a fire going.  No sense letting all that meat go to waste."  Gorak rumbled.

"Ah, what?" Khalid blinked and stared at Gorak.

"I've never eaten one of these things before and our rations are getting a bit low."

"Ah, Gorak, it's half a day to the road, I'm quite certain, yes quite that our rations will hold out for at least that long.  I'm afraid I object, yes, quite strenuously to both the killing or the eating of this man." Khalid stated, emphasizing his point with a fierce glare at both Gorak and Shayla.

"He isn't a man Khalid," Shayla pointed out, "and if we let him go he's just going to follow us again.  Let's just kill him and bury him out here in the desert.  Nobody will be the wiser."

"Ah, I hardly think that's necessary, I'm fairly certain he's learned his lesson.  Haven't you?"  Khalid reached down and removed the gag from the prisoner's mouth.  Shayla was right about one thing however, he wasn't a man, at least not a human.  His bestial features had a definite canine cast to them.  He had deep set, beady eyes recessed above what could only be called a muzzle, lined with sharp fangs.  Upright, Khalid figured that he would stand almost seven feet tall although at the moment, he was hog-tied at Khalid's feet.  Upon being addressed, the creature stopped thrashing around trying to free itself.

"Ya. I not follow you no more.  Too tough, too strong," the creature snarled in barely understandable common.  He turned his blindfolded face towards the sound of Khalid's voice, "Let go, I head back into desert.  Hunt you no more."

"Ah, yes, first we've got some questions for you, my hairy friend, yes, quite a few questions.  First, who sent you?"  Khalid asked although he was fairly certain of the answer.

"Have bounty on your head.  One thousand sultana's, big prize, good hunt," the creature growled.

Khalid paled slightly at the size of the reward being offered for his head.  "Ah, what is the bounty for?"

"Treason.  Other two, they bonus.  Wanted to question for helping traitor."

"Ah, yes and how did you hear about the bounty?"

"I good tracker, hunt criminals, get bounties."

"Hmm, yes quite.  I'm looking for a name here friend, yes."  Khalid pushed but his question was met with only silence.

"See?  He's not gonna be helpful at all.  Let's just kill him, I've got a knife right here."  Shayla offered.

"Ah, yes, you see my furry friend, you'd better start being more helpful.  Right now I'm afraid that I'm the only one on your side, as it were, yes quite."

The gnoll had begun to twitch again at the Shayla's suggestion and spoke quickly, "Big wizard.  Halaal.  I work for him before, pay good, good hunt.  He find me in Gem-Sharad, offer me head start."

"Ah, now you see, that wasn't so hard was it?"  Khalid cajoled.  "Now, what's your name?"

Again the creature clamped its jaws shut and refused to speak.  Khalid sighed, "You're slipping my friend, and the desert sun is getting hot.  I suggest you keep me interested, yes quite interested, or I'll let my bloodthirsty companion have her way."

The creature hesitated for a second, then replied, "Men call me Farraj"

The hesitation didn't escape Khalid's attention however, "Ah, yes, lying to me isn't going to improve my demeanor I'm afraid.  Last chance my friend, last chance."

"Wait," the gnoll growled, "men call me Azir.  I dreamwalker of the Windrider tribe."

"I don't see no tribe around, Azir," Gorak rumbled. "He's probably an outcast."  Gorak reached down and scratched the ears of one of the large mastiffs that had, until the night before, been hunting them.  He had brought it back from the brink of death and now it was following him around like a puppy.  It did however, shy away from Khalid whenever he came near.

"Yes, quite.  Well understand this Azir.  I know who you are now, and if I have any reason to think that maybe you went back, yes, back to Halaal and gave him any information about us, I might, yes, might have to come looking for you and I assure you, if I ever see you again, things will not go nearly as well for you as they did this time, yes?"

"You let me go, I go into deep desert, not bother you no more."

"Ah, yes, well I think just to make sure, we'll give ourselves a little head start. Yes, quite." Khalid thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers as an idea struck him.  "Ah, Shayla, would you be so kind as to get me Azir's hunting knife and his waterskin?"

Shayla retrieved the items from the pile of belongings they had stripped off the gnoll earlier.  With a disapproving frown, she handed them to Khalid.

"Ah, here's what I'm going to do for you, my friend.  I'm afraid that I can't let you go, yes, not yet, but I will leave you your hunting knife, five feet from where you're lying right now.  If luck is with you, you'll find it and cut yourself free before the heat finishes you off.  And because I'm quite generous, yes quite, I'll even leave your waterskin behind for you."  Khalid said, as he placed the items on the ground, out of reach of the prostrate gnoll.

"Maybe we should leave it ten feet away from him."  Shayla suggested.

"Ah, I think five feet will be sufficient," Khalid said, "now remember, Azir, if I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

The prisoner dealt with to Khalid's satisfaction, the three packed up their camp and headed west with the rising sun at their backs.  As Gorak lingered behind to brush out their tracks, Khalid noticed him stoop down and pick up the gnoll's waterskin and take a long pull out of it, nearly emptying it before corking it and throwing it on the ground well away from the knife.  Khalid chuckled to himself at the half-orcs vindictiveness then lengthened his stride, anxious to reach the road and the meager comforts of the fishing villages on the way to Shalazar.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Three days had passed since the encounter with the bounty hunter, and Khalid felt like a new man.  Upon reaching the road, they had traveled only a few hours before coming to a small village.  Although there were no inns or taverns, the townsfolk were more than willing to open their doors and their larders at the sight of a few sultanas.  Khalid had managed to clean off most of the dirt that had accumulated on their trek through the desert, although his tattered robes were much worse for the journey.  They were becoming so thread bare that even his magic was barely able to keep them together.  He had also taken the opportunity to go into disguise, and had shaved off most of his long flowing beard.  He was touched with a twinge of regret as he watched the remnants of what used to be his only pride float away down the river.  However, he did have to admit that he was pleased with the results, having trimmed back his beard to a pencil thin line that traced its way down the line of his jaw.  Shayla too had taken the opportunity to clean up and despite her melodramatic claims that she had left Gem-Sharad with nothing but the clothes on her back, she seemed to have no shortage of outfits stored away in her pack.  Khalid briefly wondered how she managed to carry all that clothing in there, but then decided that given how little material of which each one consisted that her entire wardrobe probably weighed less than his mangy old cloak.

The miles had fallen away beneath their feet and they made good time on the way to Shalazar.  Since the novelty of sleeping in the desert had warn thin on both Shayla and Khalid, they spent the nights in tiny fishing villages along the route.  Khalid discussed his plans with the other two as they walked and was surprised when they both seemed relatively unconcerned about their involvement with an accused traitor.  With the threat of bounty hunters tracking them to Shalazar, they discussed the possibility of continuing on and following the river down to the ocean, a journey that would take several weeks.  There were supposed to be large cities along the shore, although none of the three knew much about them.

They were climbing a small rise in the road at mid afternoon on the third day when Gorak stopped and cocked his head, listening to the wind.  Khalid continued walking for a few steps still engrossed in the conversation he was having with Shayla before he noticed Gorak had stopped.  "Ah, Gorak, what's the problem?"

"Quiet for a second," Gorak growled as he continued to listen intently.  Then a large toothy grin spread over his face.

Khalid stopped and listened as well.  At first he heard nothing, then a faint sound reached his ears.  "What…wait, ah, is that what I think it is?"  Khalid groaned.

"If I ain't mistaken, that's the sound of crossed blades," Gorak grumbled, his face still split by a wide grin.  "Now c'mon or we're gonna miss out on the fun."

* * * * * * * * * *​
*This is a spell we affectionately named Sandtangle.  Given the importance of entangle to low level druids, the lack of vegetation in this setting was a pretty significant drawback.  The spell is the same in all respects, except that it only works on sand.  Gorak has access to both spells, but has to choose which to memorize on any given day.


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## The Axe

*Kudos*

Hey!  Just thought I'd chime in with my kudos; nice job, guys!

Khalid is pretty cool; it must be strange to have players that don't just say, "He's a gnoll, so he must be evil--and, he tried to kill us," and coup de grace him before he even wakes up.  (I've played with some pretty bloodthirsty groups...)

I like the whole fleeing thing, too; for some reason, I've never really used that approach, but after seeing it done well, I may have to try it.

Keep up the good work!


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## TaranTheWanderer

Awesome story so far!  I love the characters.  As for Goraks mistake this last post, I can't find it.  It seems to me Gorak can do no wrong.


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## EternalNewbie

TaranTheWanderer said:
			
		

> It seems to me Gorak can do no wrong.




Heh.  Well "Taran" I can assure you that "Gorak" is not infallible.  And I'll be certain to cast that little trip Gorak took to that Inn in the proper light when the time comes...    

Now, just so this isn't a complete waste of a post, I'll direct your attention over to the Rogues Gallery thread in my sig, which Galeman has finally updated.  I think the only thing he's missing is a description of what character points are.  Instead of awarding roleplaying exp or session exp or anything like that, we receive character points at the end of every session, depending on how we play our characters and other things done which go above and beyond the call of duty (like writing this story hour for example, for which I still haven't received any character points *nudge nudge*).  Gorak's saving his up to buy an extra feat I think, and I've been using mine primarily for hit point rerolls (I think I rerolled hps like 5 times on one level getting like 4 1's and a 2, using up almost all of my CP in the process.  I'm not sure what Shayla's going to do with hers...

As for updates, I'm working on the next part as we speak, and will hopefully have something up in the next few days.  Shayla is out of town for the next two weeks, so I'll just have to try and curb my withdrawl by trying to get caught up...

And finally, a bit belated I suppose, but happy holidays to all my faithful readers.  All six of you


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## ledded

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> And finally, a bit belated I suppose, but happy holidays to all my faithful readers. All six of you



Ah, *seven*, yes, seven of us.  

Keep up the good work, I'm enjoying the story.  And interesting house rules also.


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## Destan

Eight.

Came here on the advice of one Senor Pogre.  Am glad I did.

Keep churning!

D


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## TwoSix

I'll be number nine.  Bumpity-bump!


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## EternalNewbie

Gather round kiddies, it's story time.  I'd originally intended to tack this bit on to the previous update, but lo and behold it turned into an update all on it's own.  Things start to get really interesting once our intrepid heroes (I can say that with a straight face too, but I did have to practice it in the mirror) get into Shalazar, and I'm looking forward to writing the next update.  I'm going to expand on some of the combat at the end of the post and y'all can let me know if you think these little insights are entertaining or just a waste of time.  And now, for your viewing enjoyment, I present the conclusion of Chapter 1: Into the Desert.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"Ah, perhaps they don't need our help.  They seem to be doing quite fine, yes quite, on their own."  Khalid suggested.  He winced as a guard defending the caravan below was pinned to one of the wagons with a javelin.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna go now.  They ain't gonna last much longer."  Gorak growled.

Khalid surveyed the scene and was forced to agree with Gorak's assessment.  The road here entered a shallow valley as it turned closer to the river.  In the center of the valley were two covered merchant wagons, each pulled by a team of horses.  A horse on each of the teams lay dead in its traces now, presumably killed in the first volley of the ambush to prevent the wagons from fleeing.  Guards had taken up defensive positions around both of the wagons, desperately fighting for their lives against what Khalid could only assume were sand goblins, albeit well organized and equipped ones.   The creatures had attacked the caravan from both sides.  From the east, the desert side, several of the goblins were raining down arrows on the hapless guards while skirmishers moved forward.  The situation on the other side of the caravan was even worse.  Half a dozen armed goblins, including two of the biggest goblins Khalid had ever seen, advanced on the guards with weapons drawn.

"That's it.  I'm going."  Gorak snarled as goblin arrows felled two more of the guards.  He began to run down the road towards the caravan.  Shayla followed close behind, her loaded crossbow in hand and her eyes flashing with excitement.*

Khalid muttered a few choice words under his breath and hurried after them.  As they ran towards the melee Khalid watched one of the enormous hobgoblins sweep the head off a guard with one swing of his massive scimitar.  With mounting trepidation, he realized that should another guard fall, they would be badly outnumbered by the assailing goblins.

He needn't have worried however, as Gorak slid to a halt thirty feet from the wagons.  Like he had in the battle against the bounty hunter, he raised his arms to the heavens and roared words of power.  The desert again heeded his call and the sand erupted.  Even as one of the goblin skirmishers on the eastern side delivered a deathblow to a guard, the four attackers on that side quickly found themselves mired in a surging maelstrom.  Shayla dropped to one knee behind Gorak and fired her crossbow, grazing one of the armored hobgoblins who immediately began shouting orders in a thick, guttural tongue.

Khalid hesitated, trying to determine how best to deploy his rather limited arsenal of magic.  Two of the guards, seeing the unexpected reinforcements attempted to run to Gorak's side.  As Khalid began to chant, one of the running guards toppled to the ground with a shriek as a goblin plunged a knife into his back.  Khalid released his spell, aiming for the two hobgoblins, but both proved to have strong wills and shrugged off his magical slumber.  Two of the smaller goblins standing nearby toppled to the ground under the weight of his spell, but one was quickly kicked awake by a snarling hobgoblin.

Gorak in the meantime had moved forward to stand beside the last remaining guard and engaged his two pursuers.  Seeing Shayla exposed and mistaking her for a helpless woman, one of the smaller goblins rushed her, a rusted short sword in hand and a filthy grin on its face.  Shayla, glancing up from the task of reloading her crossbow, was unfazed by the little creature bearing down on her.  With a few arcane words and a negligent flip of her hand, she returned to loading her crossbow.  Khalid could have sworn that the hideous little beast gazed at her with something close to abject adoration before it changed its course and rushed Gorak.  As the frenzied goblin ran into position to flank him, Gorak absently delivered a backhand blow with his cudgel that caved in the creature's skull.

Harried by Sousee and the large mastiff, the two goblins facing Gorak and the caravan guard found themselves suddenly in dire straits.  The guard lunged forward and caught one in the chest with the point of his sword.  As the creatures shield arm went lifeless from the damaging blow, Gorak took the opportunity to bludgeon the goblin to the ground.

Khalid looked around, trying to gauge the flow of the battle.  Shayla was now exchanging fire with the goblins trapped by Gorak's spell.  The goblins, hampered by the surging sand, had thrown their bows to the ground and were frantically trying to pull themselves free.  Shayla, a look of intense concentration on her face was methodically firing and reloading her crossbow.  With each heavy twang, another goblin tumbled lifeless into the waves of rippling sand.

Suddenly, Khalid found himself seized by a strange fit of courage as one of the hobgoblins, trailed by a groggy looking goblin, advanced on Gorak and the caravan guard.  His legs moving seemingly of their own volition, Khalid ran to intercept the two goblins.  He saw a surprised look on Gorak's face that he was sure was mirrored on his own as he raced past.  The goblins' snarls of rage quickly turned into howls of pain as Khalid unleashed a torrent of burning embers upon them.  The smaller goblin fell to the ground, his body a smoking ruin while the larger hobgoblin simply turned and fled, still smoldering slightly from the after effects of the spell.

The other hobgoblin swatted aside the feeble defenses of the guard he had been sparring with, and buried his sword to the hilt in the man's stomach.  As the guard fell limply to the earth, the hobgoblin turned and glared at Khalid with pure malice in his eyes.  Khalid, realizing that there was no one between him and the enraged warrior frantically grabbed at his dagger.  But the hobgoblin, seeing most of his warriors lying dead in the sand, snarled out an order in the goblin tongue and then ran out into the desert.  Those goblins still able to do so, and they were few, did likewise and fled shrieking into the desert.

Gorak immediately began moving among the injured.  Several of the guards, although mortally wounded, still held on to the spark of life.  Khalid cringed as Gorak's tender ministrations elicited tortured screams from the dying men.  Rather than watch Gorak, Khalid turned to see if Shayla needed any help.  Seeing that she was about to deliver the goblin he had rendered insensible into oblivion with her dagger, Khalid hurriedly turned his back and went over to the only guard still on his feet.  The man was grievously wounded, but didn't appear to be in any immediate danger of collapse.  He did however appear to be in shock and Khalid had to try three times to get the man to drink from his waterskin.

After downing some water, and splashing some on his face, the man regained some of his composure.  He was a slight man with an enormous mustache that was generously oiled into a curl at the tips.  His uniform, cut from rich cloth Khalid noticed, was in tatters and his turban had become unraveled, sagging on his head like an empty wineskin.  The man carefully cleaned off the blade of his sword, then sheathed it as he said, "You have my thanks, effendi.  Surely if you had not come to our aid we would now all be dead or worse.  My name is Nasim."  He bowed low before Khalid.

"Ah, yes, quite.  My name is Khalid.  You are indeed most fortunate, yes, most fortunate that we were nearby.  I have no doubt, yes none, that you would have been left for dead out here and your wares would be plundered by those filthy, yes, filthy mongrels."

At the mention of wares, the man's face went pale and he stumbled over to the second wagon.  Gorak looked up from where he was setting a broken arm when the man hurried past.  As the guard began to fiddle with a latch on the wagon, Khalid realized that it was not merely a merchant's wagon but a carriage carefully designed to conceal that fact.  The man spoke quickly and quietly with whoever was sequestered within then slid the panel shut again.  Try as he might, Khalid was unable to see within the dark confines of the carriage to determine who, or what lay within.  Nasim walked back over to Khalid, and again bowed low before him.  "My master wishes to thank you in person, once he has had time to compose himself and we have tended to the men out here."

Khalid nodded, liking the sound of that.  "Ah, well then, I suppose we should see to the men."

It took several hours to drag all the goblin bodies away from the caravan and for Gorak to tend to the wounded guards.  Since neither Shayla nor Khalid had been hurt in the fight, and Gorak had taken only a minor wound, he used what healing magic he had to aid those whom would not have otherwise survived.  Although he had roused another guard to consciousness, several of the men would not be fit for travel until tomorrow, and even then only with the help of Gorak's spells.  They dug graves for the three guards who had died in the fighting and made the other three who had still not regained consciousness as comfortable as they could.  Nasim conferred several times with the mysterious figure in the carriage and each time Khalid attempted to catch a glimpse of the person within.  He was foiled however by the descending darkness and heavy silk curtains which obscured the interior of the cart.

After a third helping of a dinner generously provided by Nasim, Khalid waited expectantly and was not disappointed as Nasim stood up and spoke.  "The master will see you now, to convey his thanks in person."  With that, he led the three of them to the second wagon, and slid open a panel on the side.  The heavy curtains were still in place but illumination from within the carriage showed the outline of a seated figure.

"My name is Arbaq and I understand that I have you three to thank for the protection of both my goods and my person."  The voice that issued from the carriage was soft and cultured, muffled slightly by the silken curtains.  Khalid could tell despite having to strain to hear that this was a man accustomed to issuing orders and to having those orders obeyed.

"Seemed the decent thing to do," Gorak rumbled.  "Couldn't very well let those little curs hack you up."

"And so you came to our aid unsolicited and placed yourself in harm's way."  Arbaq continued.  "Well, we certainly can't let good deeds go unrewarded and fortunately for you I am a man of, well shall we say, more than modest means.  Nasim, give this to them."  For the briefest instant the curtains moved aside as Arbaq handed a pouch to Nasim.  Khalid, eyes fixed on the purse failed to catch a glimpse inside the carriage however, before the curtains closed again.  Nasim took the purse and handed it to Gorak who opened it.  His eyes widened slightly and then a large toothy grin spread over his face as he tossed the pouch to Khalid.

"Yer a generous man," grumbled Gorak.

"Yes, quite."  Khalid chimed in as he examined the contents of the purse.  Inside were several hundred sultanas.

"To those that serve me well, indeed.  Which brings me to the next matter at hand.  I seem to have several unfortunate vacancies at the moment.  Presuming of course, that your destination is Shalazar, I ask you to accompany my caravan.  I will pay you double the normal rates, two sultanas a day, and ten more on top of that if there is any more trouble."  Arbaq offered.

"Ah, yes, and meals?" Khalid inquired

"Provided, of course."

Khalid looked at Shayla and Gorak, who both shrugged.  "Ah, well since we are indeed going to Shalazar, I think it is in both our best interests, yes quite, to accept your generous offer."

"Excellent.  I understand that several of the men are still quite injured and unable to travel.  I will not risk them any further injury, so we may have to remain here for a few days."

"Nah," Gorak grunted.  "I'll have 'em up and about tomorrow."

"Indeed?" Arbaq sounded faintly surprised.  "Nasim has told me a little about some of your more…unusual talents but I see that you three may be far more interesting than I had first guessed.  We shall talk again before we reach Shalazar, but for now I fear that the day's events have left me quite fatigued.  Good night my friends."  And with that, the lights dimmed within the carriage and Nasim slid the panel closed again.  As he did so, Khalid heard a faint click and guessed that Arbaq had some means of locking the carriage from the inside.

After the brief audience, Khalid joined Gorak and Shayla at the edge of the camp.  Gorak was practicing with his shawm and Sousee was playing along, rising slowly from her basket and swaying rhythmically from side to side.  Despite Gorak's enthusiasm for the instrument, Khalid never had the heart or the courage to tell him that he found the sound of the shawm, especially when it was played by Gorak, absolutely abysmal.  Clenching his teeth, he sat down beside Shayla who was absently braiding her hair and humming along.  Not willing to subject himself to Gorak's gentle melody for any longer than was absolutely necessary, Khalid spoke directly.  "Ah, yes, so what do you make of our new, ah, benefactor?"

Khalid stifled a sigh of relief as Gorak removed the shawm from his lips and rumbled, "Little odd, but then rich folk usually are.  Seems like it might work out well for ya, weren't you looking for a rich merchant to coddle up to?"
"Ah, yes, quite."  Khalid turned to Shayla.  "And, ah, yes, what do you think Shayla?"

Shayla stopped braiding her hair and sat in silence for a few moments.  Then she glanced around to make sure neither of the guards were nearby and leaned in close to Gorak and Khalid.  "He seems fine, I guess, but I'll tell you this.  I pride myself on my complexion, but this Arbaq, he puts me to shame.  I caught a glimpse of his hand when he passed the purse off to Nasim, and it was chalk white, like he never goes out in the sun at all."

They sat in silence for a while, considering what, if anything, that Shayla's observation could entail.  Finally, Shayla spoke again, "Speaking of purses, cough it up Khalid, I want my share."

Khalid snapped his fingers, "Ah, yes, of course, I had forgotten."

"Ya, and I bet you woulda forgot all the way to Shalazar too," Gorak grumbled good-naturedly.

After they had divvied up Arbaq's reward, which amounted to no less than one hundred sultanas each, they returned to the camp.   Khalid was less pleased with himself when he found out that part of his duties as a caravan guard entailed taking a watch in the middle of the night.  Even so, he thought to himself as he settled in for the night, things seemed to be looking up for a change.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"Get up," Gorak hissed as he shook Khalid awake.  "I think I heard something."  When he was sure that Khalid was awake, he moved on to Shayla, and began to rouse her.

Khalid quickly gathered his wits.  It was three days after they had met up with Arbaq's caravan.  The morning after the attack Gorak had used his magic to revive those guards that were still wounded.  With the guards healed, they set to the task of getting the first wagon, which had been dragged off the road by the panicked horses, out of the deep sand it was mired in.  With the aid of Gorak and the remaining horses it took only an hour to get the wagon free and repair the damage done.  The guards of course, regarded the trio with something akin to awe after the, Khalid had to admit, somewhat dashing rescue.  Still, he found himself disconcerted by the attention and camaraderie of the guards.  Gorak, having been raised among men such as these fit right in, laughing and joking with them around the campfire. Shayla too preened under the adulation, and flirted outrageously with the guards, matching their salacious suggestions with retorts every bit as colorful and lewd.  Khalid however, found little in common with these rough and ready men and kept mostly to himself, poring over his spellbook in silence at the back of the wagon.  And still they had seen nothing of their mysterious employer, who according to Nasim, had a delicate constitution and found sunlight very disagreeable.  

Brushing these thoughts aside, Khalid stood and glanced furtively around the camp.  He had been sleeping back near Shayla and Gorak at the side of the second wagon.  In the dim firelight that remained he could see the shadowed forms of the other guards sleeping near the first wagon.  As he turned to ask Gorak what was going on, a flicker of movement caught his eye.  There was a muffled grunt from ahead, near the first wagon, then somebody screamed.

Khalid whirled around in time to see a cloaked figure hurl something at his feet.  As Khalid shied away, he heard the sound of breaking glass and suddenly a blinding flash robbed him of his sight.  A pained roar from Gorak told Khalid that he was in similar peril.  Khalid, trying to remain calm, moved backwards slowly until he bumped up against the carriage.  From his left, there came the sounds of combat as a sword thrust was parried.  He heard Shayla chanting and shivered as the temperature around him dropped and moisture dampened his skin.  A sound to his right made him jump and he cried out, "Ah, get back, get away from me!"  He was about to unleash a torrent of fire when he realized that Gorak had been standing over there somewhere.  Still spots and bursts of color swam maddeningly in his vision.  Khalid realized that he was whispering to himself, an endless litany repeating, "It will pass, yes, it will pass, yes, soon," over and over.  He heard Gorak hiss in a manner that he knew would send Sousee into a frenzy, attacking everything around and desperately hoped that the snake was nowhere near him.  The heavy twang of a crossbow reverberated through the mist and Shayla cursed vehemently.  There was another scream that ended in a horrible choking gasp that made Khalid shudder and cringe away.  He slowly began to edge around the wagon away from the sound of ringing steel, waving his hands in what he hoped was a threatening manner.  Slowly the spots faded from his vision, to be replaced by a grey haze.  At first Khalid thought that whatever had been done to him had permanently damaged his sight, but then realized he was simply standing in a cloud of mist created by Shayla.  He took one deep breath to steady his nerve and then rushed forward, plunging into chaos.**

The first thing that he saw was Gorak, his cudgel raised high, charge at a cowled figure.  Nasim was frantically trying to defend himself from the mysterious assailant and a crumpled form lying in the sand nearby proved that one of the other guards had been unequal to the task.  As Gorak joined the melee, the remaining guard went on the offensive, trying to press his advantage with a series of quick slashes.  The cloaked figure however, twirled and danced around the blade seeming to have no trouble keeping both Gorak and the guard at bay.  Time and time again Gorak's cudgel whistled through empty air, fooled as he was by the assailant's whirling cloak.  Sousee, in the meantime, had slithered over and was coiled dangerously close to the attacker, swaying slightly from side to side.

Then suddenly it was over.  The man stepped too close to Sousee who lashed out with lightning speed and sunk her fangs deep into his upper thigh.  He grunted in pain and staggered backwards, his leg stiff from the poison.  Weakened, he was unable to dodge aside as Gorak leveled a terrible blow at him.  Khalid heard bone crunch under the impact, and the assailant's blade tumbled from his hand.  As the force of the impact sent him spinning around, Nasim leapt forward and delivered a vicious slash that nearly cut the man in two.  With a slow groan, the attacker pitched forward onto the sand, his lifeblood pooling around him.

Khalid heard Shayla scream then, and raced around the edge of the wagon almost crashing into another attacker who had been working at the lock on Arbaq's carriage.  The cloaked figure, a crossbow bolt buried deep in his shoulder, was advancing on Shayla who was frantically trying to reload.  As he saw Khalid come around the corner, the man turned to flee into the desert, but instead caught the full force of Khalid's most damaging spell.  With a strangled cry, the attacker collapsed to the sand under the swirling cone of embers, and lay there unmoving.

As Gorak quickly moved to check on the other guards, Khalid inspected his fallen opponent.  The man was nondescript, having regular even handsome features.  He was wearing dark, sand colored robes and was carrying a veritable arsenal of weapons.  Khalid removed three daggers, two short swords, a crossbow and several other tools that he suspected were of less than legitimate purpose from various sheaths and pouches.  As he was divesting the man of his possessions, the unconscious figure uttered a low groan and shifted slightly, causing Khalid to leap backwards in surprise.

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid called out.  "This one is, ah, still alive, yes quite."

Gorak materialized out of the darkness, his expression grim.  "He may be, but three other guards are dead and the fourth one's gonna have one hell of a limp tomorrow.  Found the sentry over there with his throat cut, and two others murdered in their bedrolls."  He knelt down beside the unconscious assassin and inspected his wounds.  He uttered a few arcane words as he pulled the crossbow bolt out of the man's arm.  "There, that'll stop the bleeding and make sure he don't die during the night."  He then uncoiled a length of rope and securely bound the man's hands and feet.

Shayla was silently watching the procedure and when Gorak was finished, nudged the man's face with her toe, to get a better look at him.  She looked at Gorak and Khalid then and spoke, "I've got an idea.  Can you get him conscious?"  She looked at Gorak, who nodded.  "Good.  Do it, then go keep those guards busy and away from here."  With that, Shayla began to chant and Khalid, recognizing the effect of the spell, grinned in the darkness.

Gorak uttered a few more arcane words, then stood up and neatly intercepted Nasim who was coming towards them.  Placing his arm around Nasim's shoulders, he steered him over to the body of the other assassin.  Khalid moved out of sight around the edge of the wagon and then strained to listen.

"Wha…" the assassin groaned as his eyes flickered open.

"Quiet you fool," Shayla hissed.  "If the others see us talking we'll both be tied up."

In the flickering light of the rekindled fire, Khalid could see the man stiffen up, then relax and nod slightly.

"Now tell me who sent you, before I lose my temper," Shayla whispered.

"Ah," the man looked furtively around.  "I can't do that."

"Listen you little maggot, you have seriously jeopardized my cover with this little stunt and I am not in a forgiving mood.  Security around Arbaq is going to be twice as tight now."  Shayla snarled.  "Now I want to know who sent you."

"I was sent by the Red Hand, same as you." The man replied, shrinking under Shayla's wrath.

"I know that," Shayla hissed, "but I want to know who."

"I told you…" The man's eyes narrowed, "Listen, you've gotta get me loose."

"Maybe.  I'm not so sure you'll be all that useful to me."  Shayla said.

"Look, just get me loose, I can hide out in the desert, meet up with you in Shalazar and we can plan this out.  I can help you."

"I'll think about.  You may be more valuable to me dead than alive."  Shayla said as she gagged the assassin.  She stood up then, and moved back towards the fire.

Nasim watched her approach with suspicion. "What were you doing over there with that prisoner?" he demanded.  His gaze then flickered over to Khalid, who came sauntering around the edge of the wagon trying to look as innocent as possible, a task made more difficult by the fact that he had just been seen skulking about in the darkness.

"I think we should talk to Arbaq," Shayla suggested.

"Yes. I think we'd better talk to Arbaq right now," Nasim agreed curtly as he moved to Arbaq's carriage.  After speaking briefly with him, Nasim waved the three forward.

"Nasim tells me that you have fought off two would be assassins."  Arbaq's voice, calm and unruffled issued from the carriage.

"Ya.  They killed three more of your guards, and stuck another one, but he'll probably live.  We killed one of the attackers.  Other one's tied up over there."  Gorak rumbled.

"Indeed.  I am once again indebted to you." Arbaq replied.

"I questioned him," Shayla chimed in.  "He said somebody called the Red Hand sent him.  I couldn't get anymore out of him."

"I am quite surprised that you obtained that much from him.  You three are indeed remarkable.  I assure you that when we reach Shalazar you will be amply rewarded for your efforts."

"So what's this Red Hand, and whadda they want from you," Gorak asked bluntly.

"Hired killers I would presume.  Probably expensive.  As to why they are after me, I don't really know.  I am a wealthy man and have on occasion made an enemy or two amassing my fortune.  It may be an old score or simply a rival opportunist."  Arbaq replied.  "Nasim, please deal with the would be assassin.  Now, if you will excuse me, I must rest."  

With that, Nasim slid the panel shut and walked off into the darkness towards the prisoner.  Khalid winced at the muffled scream that indicated that the prisoner had been 'dealt' with.  As the three moved away from Arbaq's carriage, Khalid spoke.

"Ah, yes, what do you make of Arbaq now?"

"He don't rattle easy, that's for sure." Gorak grunted.	

"My father used to deal with men like him."  Shayla said quietly.  "He's probably lying about not knowing the cause.  A man like that has his enemies on a short list that's probably going to get a name or two shorter when we get to Shalazar."  Then she smiled.  "Of course it does mean that he's richer and more powerful than I'd originally thought too."

Khalid returned her smile with one of his own, "Yes, quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​
The rest of the trip to Shalazar passed without incident.  As they neared the city, the surrounding desert began to give way to cultivated fields along the flood plains of the river.  Houses began to appear; crude mud huts at first near the edge of the desert, which gave way to more permanent dwellings closer to the fertile fields created by the river.  There were more people on the road now as well, peasants and farmers moving their goods to and from the city.  

Then suddenly out of the shimmering desert heat, Khalid saw the graceful minarets and towers of the city itself.  Though not as large as Gem-Sharad, Shalazar boasted some of the wealthiest merchant princes in Al-Qarin.  But not all of Shalazar echoed with wealth and privilege.  Far from it.  Shalazar had been given another name by the citizens of the other city-states, for the city was known far and wide as a haven to those who pursued less savory and legitimate occupations.    There was no Sultan in Shalazar to maintain order, only the merchant princes whose hired thugs first loyalty lay to their masters' wares.  Over time, Shalazar had become home to the worst sort of criminals, those who could find refuge nowhere else.  As the caravan passed through the sprawling shantytown that surrounded the city proper, the sights and sounds of civilization once again assailed Khalid.  Khalid took a deep breath of air fetid with the smell of cramped humanity and smiled to himself.  Shalazar, home to thieves and murderers, thugs and brigands, and now home to one itinerant wizard.  Shalazar, the City of Sin.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes & Comments:

* Heh.  I think the only reason we waited for a bit was because Gorak (who posts as TaranTheWanderer in case you missed our little joke) and I had just finished playing evil characters in an awesome campaign run by Galeman (which ended when a player moved away) and we weren't certain yet how we wanted this campaign to go.  We were kind of leaning towards 'attack the winners' but it started looking like a rout.  Those goblins owned the caravan guards.  We were outnumbered to start I think, and in the first round 3 more guards went down.  Turned into a nice little fight though and we decided not to loot the caravan ourselves...I'm still not sure if that wouldn't have been a better idea  

**  At this point, Shayla really started to get the hang of the game.  We decided that Gorak and I wouldn't help her out by suggesting tactics, not to be cruel but to encourage her to really get into the game.  She saved us with that obscuring mist (those assassins were much higher level than us) and her questioning of the prisoner, while not providing a ton of useful information was masterfully done and entertaining to watch.  She tipped her hand a little right at the end, and I think he got another save from her charm which is why he clammed up.  Gorak pointed out, after reading this post that his feeling was that Arbaq was not at all happy with us questioning the prisoner like that, which explains why he had him killed right after talking to us.


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## Bill Muench

Page 3? Back to the front with ye!

I just want to say how good this story is. It has great flavor. I only read 4 story hours: Piratecat's, Sagiro's, Sepulchrave's, and this one. I hope you stick with it, because I'm really impressed so far.


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## EternalNewbie

Bill Muench said:
			
		

> I only read 4 story hours: Piratecat's, Sagiro's, Sepulchrave's, and this one.




That's some august company you've put me with.  Thanks for the praise (and the bump).  As always, the feedback is greatly appreciated and along with my group's reaction to what I write is one of the main reasons I'm enjoying this so much.

Just so this post isn't completely devoid of crunchy bits, I'll direct your attention to my signature.  No, not the clever little witicism, below that, to Galeman's Rogues Gallery.  He has posted an update and given a little glimpse of what's to come.  Since we were already almost level 5 when I started writing and were too lazy to try and figure out what our 3rd level sheets looked like, he's gone ahead and posted our characters at 5th level.  At this point in the story, we're 2nd level, quickly approaching 3rd.

I'm gonna try and get another update done before the end of the weekend.  Shayla returns next week, and we're all itching to play.  Truth be told, however, I've got a bad feeling about the next adventure...


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## EternalNewbie

As promised, here's your weekend update.  I didn't get quite as far as I'd originally planned with this update either and faced with the prospect of splitting it into two parts and delaying it until I can get the rest of it finished, I opted for the former.  Gorak has been complaining about the title of the thread too, so I'm going to change it, yet again.  Now, without further ado, I present:

CHAPTER 2:  THE CITY OF SIN

The caravan rolled slowly through the crowded streets of Shalazar.  The cramped, dingy hovels and press of bodies tainted the cool river breeze, creating a stale humidity that coated the skin.  An endless stream of people flowed around the caravan, urged aside by the implacable horses and occasionally by Nasim's stinging whip.  He seemed to Khalid to be even more nervous now than he had been out in the desert.  Glancing back over his shoulder, Khalid saw Gorak and Shayla sharing a laugh with the other guard.  They didn't seem the least bit worried.  Khalid sighed and tried to find a more comfortable spot on the hard buckboard wagon.

Finally, after the third time he saw Nasim flinch toward his sword, Khalid could no longer stand the tension.  "Ah, you seem a bit agitated, yes agitated, Nasim.  Is there a problem?"

Nasim turned to Khalid, his expression grim.  "It is not unheard of for caravans to be attacked in broad daylight in the streets of Shalazar."

"Indeed?"

Nasim nodded.  "Most of the time, it is a simple robbery.  But Haroun, he's dead now, we buried him in the desert, he told me that he saw it happen once.  He said that they swarmed over the caravan like ants and dragged the guards out of their saddles.  Hacked them to pieces right in the middle of the street."  As he said the word hacked, he made a little chopping motion with his hand.  "All over the price of coffee in Gem-Sharad."  He shook his head sadly, "I'm sure it made the merchant prince behind it a lot of money."  Then he grinned sheepishly.  "Ah, forgive me my friend, I'm certain there is nothing to worry about…you can't blame me for being a bit jumpy after that trip we just had through the desert."

"Yes, quite," replied Khalid, his eyes darting nervous around the street.  Suddenly everyone in the mob pressed around the wagon seemed to be paying it undue attention.  Khalid saw daggers within every shadowed alley and cursed the gloom for hiding would be assassins from his scrutiny.  Then he saw something that he wished had gone unnoticed.  A thin rivulet of blood was flowing from an alley and pooling in the gutter.  As they passed by the alley, Khalid saw three men, steel in hand, standing over a fourth who was badly injured or dead.  One of the men looked up, straight at Khalid whose morbid fascination would not let him turn away.

"Don't look!" hissed Nasim.  "If you don't see them, they won't see you.  It is the way of things here."

Khalid snapped his head around and stared straight ahead as the wagon slowly trundled past the scene.  The people in the street were doing much the same, carefully looking anywhere but at the alley.  He even saw one man step over the pool of blood and continue on his way.  Khalid bit his lip uneasily.  Gem-Sharad could be a dangerous place.  Fights were common and bodies turned up in the poor quarter with disturbing frequency but a murder in broad daylight, with nobody calling for the guard or even reacting too it, that would never happen, even in the seediest parts of the city.  Khalid began to question the wisdom of coming to Shalazar.

His attitude changed however, as they left the poor quarter and entered a more prosperous area of the city.  As the squalid buildings changed from crude mud huts to brick buildings and storefronts, Khalid began to relax a little.  Slowly, the surroundings became cleaner and less congested.  The merchant quarter slowly gave way to an upscale neighborhood that reminded Khalid of Gem-Sharad, albeit a part of Gem-Sharad he had rarely set foot in.  There were more armed men in evidence here, moving through the streets in two's and three's, or lounging outside various shops and establishments. They each wore a different tabard or insignia on their clothing.

Nasim smiled then, and called out a greeting to a group of men wearing white armbands with some sort of green sigil emblazoned on it.  As the men approached, Nasim leaned closer to Khalid and said, "Ah, excellent.  These men are in Arbaq's employ.  They will take the caravan the rest of the way to Arbaq's estate."  The four men hopped up on the slow moving wagons and Nasim handed the reins to one of them.  "Come, come, I will show you to the accommodations Arbaq has arranged for you," he gestured at Khalid as he leaped off the wagon.

Khalid jumped down too and joined Shayla and Gorak with Nasim, who led them through the city streets while delivering a running commentary on the various places of interest.  He indicated which restaurants served the best al machboos, which wineshops cut their wine and which brothels had the best women.  Shayla rolled her eyes as Gorak made several pointed inquires into the latter subject.

Finally, they arrived at the inn, a tall building whose brick walls had been covered with a gleaming white plaster.  A large garden surrounded the building and liveried guards stood at attention outside the door.  As they entered the inn, Khalid's mouth began to water at the savory smells that enveloped him.  The room was shaped like a horseshoe, with a large bar on the eastern wall.  High vaulted windows stood open to the breeze and the air carried the mingled aroma of roasting lamb and fragrant herbs.

"I will make arrangements with the owner.  All of your expenses will be taken care of while you are a guest of Arbaq." Nasim said.

"Join us for a drink?"  Gorak rumbled.

Nasim smiled broadly, "But of course my friends."

They had no difficulty finding a table in a secluded corner.  It was after siesta and the bar was almost completely empty.  Nasim returned to their table with four glasses of wine.  Khalid took his glass and was about to taste it when he stopped and spoke.  "Ah, if I may offer a toast," Khalid said as he raised his glass.  "To journeys, both the ones behind us and the ones which still lay ahead."

"To journeys," the others replied and the all drank.  Khalid was absolutely certain he had never had wine this good.

They laughed and joked and enjoyed each other's company for a time, before Nasim grew serious again.  "I must caution you, my friends, Shalazar is not like Gem-Sharad.  There is no Sultan here.  The city councilors are the puppets of the merchant princes, and the city guards are, for the most part, ineffectual and corrupt.  The merchant princes and their retinues dictate the real law here.  The politics of Shalazar are murky and treacherous and the most unassuming of its denizens may carry great influence."  He looked at Shayla.  "I would recommend that you do not venture out into the city unescorted."  He glanced at Khalid as well.  "You either."  Khalid flushed slightly but in all honestly had already reached that conclusion on his own.

"And where does Arbaq fit into this snake's warren?" Gorak grumbled.

"Ah, you will have to forgive me, for it is not my place to discuss such things," Nasim replied apologetically.  "Suffice it to say however, that the name of Arbaq is known in this city and he will be able to shield you, to a certain extent."  Nasim stood up then and drained the last of his wine.  "Now I must return to my duties.  Arbaq will call on you shortly, I am sure.  Until then, enjoy yourselves and fare well."  He bowed low, then left the inn.

Alone for the first time in several days, the three looked at each other.  Then Gorak grinned.  "You heard the man, it's time to enjoy ourselves.  Khalid, go get us a few more bottles of that wine.

The common room began to fill up as darkness shrouded the city.  Musicians and dancing girls appeared and entertained the growing crowd.  A never-ending stream of servants kept their table laden with food and their glasses full of wine. At one point, Gorak left the table and returned with a pouch of pipe weed and a large hookah.  The smoke it produced was aromatic and heavy.  The rest of the evening faded from Khalid's memory, carried away on wispy curls of bluish smoke.

Khalid awoke late in the morning, with his mouth tasting like ashes and a head that felt as though it had been used as an anvil.  He stumbled around in a daze, finally deciding that a bath would be the best thing to clear his head.  When he returned to his room, he found that Arbaq had generously provided him with a wardrobe. Khalid immediately threw his worn rags aside and donned a richly appointed crimson robe.  Examining the effect in a mirror, Khalid was pleased with the result.  With his head freshly shaved and beard neatly trimmed, Khalid headed down to the common room.

Gorak was already there, seated at the same table they had occupied last night, surrounded by the remnants of an enormous lunch.  As Khalid sat down, a serving girl appeared immediately bearing a glass of mango juice.  Khalid ordered a meal that rivaled the one Gorak had just consumed.  As the girl left, he pulled a piece of roast fowl off one of the many plates surrounding Gorak and popped it into his mouth.  Gorak, Khalid noticed, had a broad grin on his face the entire time.  Arbaq had evidently provided them all with new clothing, and Gorak was wearing a pair of pantaloons and a dark green silk vest that left his muscled chest bare.

Khalid, unnerved by Gorak's silent mirth, spoke.  "Ah, you seem in good humor this morning, yes, quite.  What is it?"

"Have you been to the baths yet?" Gorak asked.  His smile was immediately mirrored by the one on Khalid's face.

"Yes, quite."  Khalid replied, and both men shared a knowing laugh.

He saw Gorak's eyes widen then, and turned to see what he was looking at.  Shayla had just entered the common area, wearing a stunning dress of pale blue.  Her hair, combed straight now and pulled back with an ivory comb, shone in the morning light.  She looked absolutely stunning and she practically glided over to their table and joined them.  Every eye in the room was on her and she knew it.

"What are you two grinning at?"  Shayla asked as she sat down and bit into a piece of fruit.

"We was just talking about the baths," Gorak rumbled.

"The baths?  They certainly are delightful here.  I think I spent two hours down there this morning.  I can't remember the last time I felt this clean…"  She trailed off as she realized that both men were on the verge of open laughter.  "What is it?" she demanded, then her eyes narrowed as she looked at both men in turn.  "Wait a minute, were their naked women in your bath rooms as well?"

Gorak, unable to contain himself, burst out laughing as Khalid replied, "Yes, quite!"

Shayla rolled her eyes and exclaimed with some exasperation, "Men!"

After they had eaten, they discussed their plans their for the day.  Shayla insisted that Gorak take her to the marketplace, and he agreed without requiring too much cajoling.  "Might be a good idea to get a feel for the city, until we figure out what we're gonna do," he rumbled.  "What about you Khalid, whadda you gonna do today?"

"Ah, yes, I think I'll take advantage of the peace and quiet to return to my studies.  I'm on the verge of unlocking a new formula which may prove quite, yes, quite useful.  I think I've found a way to use Ibrahim's theory on trans-substantiation to force an opening into a dimensional abnormality.  I'm having difficulty achieving any sort of stability however and…" His voice trailed off as he realized that Shayla's eyes had become unfocused and were staring past him as she absently picked at the fruit she was eating.  Gorak wasn't even pretending to pay attention anymore, and was staring appreciatively at one of the serving girls.  "Ah, yes, well suffice it to say that I will be continuing my research and will remain here for the next several days."  He pushed the last plate of his lunch away from him and glanced down at his greasy hands.  "Of course, ah, first I think I will take another trip down to the baths to freshen up.  Yes quite."

Shayla frowned disapprovingly, but her comment was lost beneath Gorak's rumbling laugh.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Three days went past before they heard any word from Arbaq.  Khalid stayed for the most part, within the luxurious rooms of the inn.  Arbaq had rented out the entire third floor and Khalid's room was roughly twice the size of his dingy hovel in Gem-Sharad.  By the time three days had passed however, it looked remarkably similar, with papers and books strewn around the room, and plates of half eaten food decorating the various end tables and desks he had requested.  In addition to his research, Khalid had taken the time to inscribe a number of scrolls, storing his arcane power for use in an emergency.  Shayla and Gorak spent most of the time walking the streets of Shalazar, learning the city.

They were enjoying an evening meal together when a young boy approached their table.  He bowed low and then said quietly, "Master Arbaq humbly requests your presence at his estate.  When you are ready, I will take you there."

The three glanced at one another, then pushed their plates away and stood up.  "No time like the present."  Gorak rumbled.

The boy led them through the darkening streets of Shalazar into the richest part of the city.  The lamplighters were out in full force, lighting the various torches and lamps that hung in the affluent areas of the city.  Gradually the houses became larger and more opulent and eventually they passed out of the city proper altogether.  High walls surrounded the houses in this area and their gates were manned with armed sentries.  Finally the boy stopped in front of a huge wrought iron gate and spoke to the men guarding it.  They admitted the four of them and then locked the gate.  Khalid was awestruck by what lay beyond.  Palatial estate was barely adequate to describe Arbaq's residence.  Beyond the walls, a palm tree lined cobblestone path led the way to the main house through an immaculately groomed carpet of grass.  The house itself was enormous, with two wings angled back away from the main building.  A huge golden dome capped the center building, and carefully concealed lamps illuminated the entire structure.  The boy led them to the front door, where an elderly man dressed in fine silken robes greeted them.  "Welcome to the humble home of Arbaq ibn Asadel.  He has asked me to show you to him, straight away, so if you would please follow me."

They saw little of the house itself, save for the maze of marbled hallways that the servant led them down.  The servant stopped finally in front of two large wooden double doors.  "You will find Master Arbaq within," he said as he bowed low before them.

As Gorak opened the door and the three walked into the room their eyes widened in shock.  If Khalid was awestruck by the sight of Arbaq's estate, he was rendered speechless by what lay beyond the doors.   The room itself was enormous.  Marble columns carved in the likeness of heroic warriors stretched towards the ceiling at regular intervals.  Rich tapestries lined the walls and plush divans and sitting chairs were arranged around the room.  There was even a fountain feeding a small pool at one side of the room.  None of these things, however, were the cause of the surprise.  The room was also occupied by about twenty or so gorgeous young women in various states of undress.  Some were lounging on the divans talking quietly while others were bathing in the pool.  As the three walked through the center of the room, Khalid flushed as he felt the eyes of the women upon him.  A young woman with dusky skin leaned over and whispered something to one of the other girls while pointing at Gorak.  They both laughed demurely behind their hands as he walked past.  

Arbaq's voice reached them from the far side of the room and cut through the distraction.  "Gorak.  Khalid.  Shayla.  It is good to see you again.  Please, join me here."

Khalid hurried forward, anxious to catch a glimpse of the mysterious merchant.  He was foiled again however, as Arbaq was concealed by three huge silken screens.  Once again, all they could see of him was a silhouette against the silk.

Arbaq continued, "I am pleased at your prompt response to my summons.  I had hoped to discuss with you the possibility of future employment with you, if you are interested."

"Ah, well, that depends I suppose, on ah, what you would have us do?"  Khalid replied, his gaze still flickering around the room.

"Indeed.  I have something in mind for you three, which I think will be well within the range of your unique skills.  If, after you hear me out, you decide that the task is too difficult or distasteful, then you may leave here with my thanks, and enjoy the rest of the week in Shalazar at my expense."

"Sounds fair," Gorak rumbled.

"Excellent.  There is a man, here in Shalazar, who has betrayed me in a sense.  I wish for you three to…reprimand him for me."

"You want us to give him the kind of reprimand that involves a hole out in the desert somewhere?"  Gorak asked.

"While I would find that deeply satisfying, I'm afraid that he is too valuable to simply discard.  I simply want you to show him the wisdom of continuing to deal with me, rather than one of my competitors.  Now I must caution you, he is a wealthy man and wealth of course, breeds paranoia.  He surrounds himself with guards, which is why I am asking this of you.  While I have no shortage of men at my disposal, I would prefer that things remain relatively, shall we say, tidy."

"Right.  So what's his game?"  Gorak rumbled.

"His name is Festran," Arbaq continued, "and he runs a house of ill repute called the Blessed Sin here in the city.  He dabbles in prostitution, gambling and to a lessor extent, drugs.  He is reasonably well known and prosperous within the city, but you need fear no retribution in this.  Simply inform him on whose behalf you are acting and let him direct his enmity towards me, if he is so foolish.  I will reward you with a sum equal to that I gave you for your fortunate assistance in the desert.  So, what do you say, will you assist me in this endeavor?"

Khalid, realizing that he had just been asked a question, jerked his gaze away from the nubile young women lounging around the room.  "Ah, we may need some additional, resources, yes quite."

"Of course," Arbaq replied.  "I can provide you with anything you may require."

"Ah, yes, rather than having us running back and forth to your estate all the time, perhaps you could simply reimburse us?" Khalid asked.

Arbaq paused for a moment then replied, "That is acceptable, within reason of course."

"Sounds good to me," Gorak growled.  "I'll do it, if Khalid and Shayla are up for it."

"I'm in," Shayla replied without hesitation.  "This sounds like far too much fun to pass up."

Khalid deliberated for a moment before giving his answer.  Waylaying merchants wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he set out for Shalazar.  Still, he reasoned, Gorak and Shayla seemed enthusiastic about it and he owed them both a great deal.  He glanced about the room again and decided to accept the offer.  Khalid was however, honest enough with himself to realize that his decision was influenced as much by Arbaq's exorbitant wealth as his loyalty to Shayla and Gorak.  "I ah, see no reason why we can't aid you in resolving this little matter.  Yes, quite."

"I am very glad to hear that," Arbaq responded.  "Perhaps after you finish this little task, we can discuss a more permanent arrangement which I assure you, has the potential to benefit us both greatly."

"Indeed," Khalid replied.

"Well then, return to me when you have finished this business.  I'll have one of the servants show you out."  And with that, they were dismissed.

As they walked back to their inn, they discussed their next move.  "Ah, if I might make a suggestion," Khalid offered, "I think perhaps Gorak, yes, Gorak should indulge himself at this fine establishment."

Gorak grinned eagerly.  "Sure, lend me some money."

Khalid frowned, "Ah, yes quite.  Try to keep your wits about you."

Gorak chuckled, "You worry to much.  I got the idea.  I'll check the place out, see what kind of security he's got."

"Ah, yes.  After that we should have a better, yes quite, better idea of how to approach this situation."  Khalid said.

They parted ways a few streets away from the inn as Shayla and Khalid headed back to their rooms and Gorak ventured off to do some late night reconnaissance.  The inn was still reasonably busy when they arrived.  Khalid hesitated at the foot of the stairs, and then finally decided it was probably too late to visit the baths.  He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to his room, still thinking about the meeting with Arbaq.  He disrobed and climbed into his gigantic four poster bed, settling deep into the plush mattress.  Surrounded by opulence, entangled with a man who wielded his wealth like a weapon and embarking on a task of questionable legality and indeed, morality, Khalid sighed to himself and wondered if he had made the right decision in leaving Gem-Sharad.


----------



## pogre

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> Surrounded by opulence, entangled with a man who wielded his wealth like a weapon and embarking on a task of questionable legality and indeed, morality, Khalid sighed to himself and wondered if he had made the right decision in leaving Gem-Sharad.




Right decision?! The baths man, the baths!


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## xenoflare

*wow!*

well met,

  wow! this definitely rocks the casbah! the crowd here has caught a whiff, of that crazy Casbah jive! Khalid, continue to rock on!

yours,
shao


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## Galeman

ok, shameless bump to see if my new sig worked


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## Bill Muench

Great update! I'm curious, have you had any trouble with combats since you only have 3 characters, all of whom are spellcasters?


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## Galeman

hey bill,

to answer your question from a gm's point of view, things seems to go one of three ways with a group like this.
1) the group completely anhilates the encounter - usually while at full capacity.
2) the group turns tale and runs - usually when at low capacity.
3) the group gets their collective a$$ handed to them and gorak's snake bails them out - wait for it.  it'll become a recurring theme in the 2nd-4th level games, that is, if EternalNewbie decides to play it up   

also though, i try to tailor set encounters such that i feel they can handle them.  as it is though, Gorak makes a pretty decent front line fighter, and sorceresses can deliver a sick amount of damage.  things tend to go wrong when Shayla goes down or gets low on spells.  though Shayla really is as deadly as Newb describes her with that crossbow.

of course, newb's perspective on this all may vary and i'm sure he'll give a completely different answer than mine.  one in which Khalid shines through no doubt.


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## EternalNewbie

Bill Muench said:
			
		

> Great update! I'm curious, have you had any trouble with combats since you only have 3 characters, all of whom are spellcasters?




Actually, I'm just relieved that we actually have somebody that can heal this time around.  In the last two campaigns in this world the groups consisted of a Fighter, Rogue, Wizard and a Fighter/Sorc, Wizard, Rogue and a bard that never made it to second level, so this is a walk in the park  .  Thus far it hasn't been too bad.  We use NPC's occasionally to bolster our ranks and we're getting pretty close to the point where one of us will take leadership.  And Galeman's right about that stupid snake.  Damn thing has more hps and a better AC than anybody in the group   

Now, since I always feel guilty posting without an update...here's there update which will be forever known on my harddrive as Part 7b.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Khalid woke at his usual time the next day, when the sunlight finally became too intrusive to ignore.  Donning the crimson robe that had become his only set of clothing since he threw out the threadbare remnants of his White Tower apprentice robes, Khalid headed downstairs.  When he got there, Gorak was already seated at their customary table.  This morning however, there was nothing in front of him except a steaming mug of coffee.  His eyes were bloodshot and he seemed to be even more disheveled then usual.  Khalid joined him at the table and asked quietly, "Ah, yes, so how did things go last night."

Gorak grunted something inaudible as he took a sip from his coffee.

"Ah, yes.  What?"

"I said, we'd better wait for Shayla so I don't have to repeat myself," Gorak grumbled.

Khalid had finished eating by the time Shayla finally made an appearance in the common room.  Waving away the serving girl, Shayla grabbed a piece of fruit on her way over to the table.  As she sat down, she mumbled through a mouthful of apple, "So, we ready to administer some punishment or what?"

Khalid glanced around the nearly empty common room.  "Ah, perhaps we should adjourn to somewhere a little more private to discuss this, yes?"

"Ya," Gorak grunted as he stood, stifling a yawn.  The others joined him and they headed back upstairs to Khalid's room.  Shoving aside a stack of papers, Gorak sat down on a chair and said, "Alright.  It doesn't look great, but it could be worse."  He picked up a sheet of paper and a quill, and quickly sketched out a crude map.  "The place is three stories high.  The bar and the gambling tables are on the first level.  There's a huge staircase opposite the front doors that leads up to the second level.  The center of the second level is open, so you can look down on the card tables.  Around the outside are the private rooms.  There are two guards at the front door collecting the entrance fee.  There's two more here, and another one here, here and here."  He indicated the corners of the room.  "There's also a few circulating around the crowd."

"So maybe seven on the main floor, and two more within earshot.  That's inconvenient.  Any good news for us?" Shayla asked.

"Ya, and that was it," Gorak grumbled.  "I saw Festran himself.  He's about as tall as I am, but rounder.  Thinning black hair and wearing enough jewelry to put Shayla to shame.  He came in with four more guards.  They went straight up to the second level and in this room here, which I figure is the way up to the third floor.  Two of the guards took up positions here, outside.  The other two went up with him."

"Ah, yes, it would seem that attempting to strong arm our way into the Blessed Sin is not an option, and I do not think we have the ah, capabilities, yes, capabilities to make it unnoticed to the third floor.  Yes, quite."  Khalid mused.  "What about, ah, following him?"

Gorak grunted, "Maybe.  We jump him outside though, no way to tell who's gonna come to his aid.  Hit him in some other place, we don't know the layout, and maybe there's some bystanders that get caught up in it."

"Ah, hrm, well then, what options do we have."  Khalid said.

"Well," Gorak rumbled.  "I was working on something while I was there last night.  He's a merchant right?"  He looked at Khalid who nodded.  "Well then, let's sell him something.  I spent a bit of money there last night, got myself seen, made nice with some of the bouncers."

"Ah, excellent idea." Khalid said.  Then he was silent for moment before snapping his fingers and speaking again.  "Ah, what about drugs?  If you can find me a root of the bavala plant, I can perhaps distill, yes, distill it down and synthesize a type of narcotic called Crystal Smoke."

"I probably can, ya."  Gorak rumbled, with a slow grin spreading across his face.  "But that ain't exactly what I had in mind to sell him."  He shot Shayla a sidelong glance.  Khalid, catching on, immediately began to chuckle.

Shayla, who had been absently trimming her nails with her dagger, held up her hand and examined her handiwork in the sunlight.  Realizing suddenly that the conversation had stopped she looked up to find both men grinning at her.  "What?" She demanded, then her eyes widened slowly.  "You can't be serious!" she wailed as both Khalid and Gorak burst out laughing.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Gorak dropped a fistful of sultanas into the doorman's hand and strode into Blessed Sin.  He nodded to one of the bouncers as he moved towards the bar.  Recognizing one of the guards he had talked to the night before, Gorak picked up his drink and walked over.  The man was casually leaning on the railing of the staircase, watching the crowd.  

"So?" Gorak rumbled.  "He here yet?"

The guard, whose eyes never really left the crowd as Gorak spoke to him, replied, "Nah, not yet.  He won't be in till later, probably.  Then he'll make his rounds, greet the regulars and that sort of thing before he heads up to his office."

"Do me a favor would you?" Gorak asked.  The guard grunted noncommittally.  "When he gets here, tell him I've got some business to discuss with him."  Gorak turned his palm over revealing two sultanas in his hand.

Now the guard's eyes flickered away from the crowd to stare at the gold in Gorak's palm.  The guard grinned at Gorak as he shook hands with him.  "I think I can put in a good word for you."

That taken care of, Gorak went to the card tables and began to lose, slowly and methodically.  Several hours passed before Festran made an appearance.  Gorak's first drink was still almost full and his purse was almost empty, neither of which put him in a particularly good mood.  As he watched Festran make his way through the crowd, he ran through the details one last time, then slammed back his drink and ordered another.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Festran begin to climb the stairs and the guard he had bribed lean over to tap him on the arm.  They spoke briefly, and the bouncer pointed in Gorak's direction.  

Festran turned around and walked back through the gambling pit.  Flanked by two bodyguards he moved up beside Gorak at the end of the bar.  "So you think you have business with me?" he practically sneered.

"Not me, my master." Gorak grumbled.

"Ah." Festran seemed to relax a little.  "And what pray tell is your master peddling?"

"Girls." Gorak grunted.

Festran waved his hand dismissively.  "Take a look around my friend.  Girls, I have."

"Not like these you don't."  Gorak muttered.

Festran's expression hardened a bit.  "I will forgive you that, my friend, because they tell me you've made me a fair bit richer in the last two days."

"Ain't my money." Gorak shrugged.  "The boss, he says come in here, spend some money, take a look around and see what kind of place it is.  So I come. I spend.  Nice place, good security and you got the gold to make the deal."

"Well, I don't need any more girls.  I'm sorry that you wasted your time, my friend, but I do sincerely appreciate your business."  With a nod of his head, Festran turned to leave.

"Red hair." Gorak grunted.

Festran stopped.  "What did you say."

"Red hair," Gorak continued.  "Green eyes.  Skin the color of cream.  'Bout this tall and this big around."  He put the tips of his fingers together.

Festran turned around.  "And…" He made a cupping motion with his hands.

"Yeah, but bigger.

Festran laughed.  "Well my scruffy friend, you have managed to capture my interest.  Tell your master to bring the girl by, and I'll take a look at her."

Gorak shook his head.  "The boss, he don't come in places like this."

"Oh, and why is that?"  The suspicion had returned to Festran's face.

"Dunno." Gorak shrugged.  "The boss don't tell me and I don't ask.  He said if you wanna take a look, he'll be having dinner tomorrow at the Crescent Moon."

Festran stared hard at Gorak.  The suspicion was bright and quick now.  "I think I will pass, my friend.  I don't really need any more girls."

"The boss, he said you might say that," Gorak rumbled.  "So he told me to tell you he also has some Crystal Smoke."

"Really?" Festran raised an eyebrow.  "How much?"

Gorak could see the greed smoldering in the man's eyes.  "Depends."

"On what?" Festran demanded

"On how much you need," Gorak smirked.  	Festran's expression didn't change, but Gorak saw the spark of greed turn into a raging bonfire.  Gorak knew then that everything would fall into place.  He had him.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"I just want you to know that I'm still mad at you.  Both of you."  Shayla pouted.  The wispy, diaphanous gown she was wearing revealed more than it hid.  Much more.

"Two votes to one, darling.  Ya lost." Gorak rumbled with an evil grin on his face.

"Just where in the nine hells am I supposed to hide a weapon, wearing this thing?"  She demanded.

"Here, I'll give ya a hand." Gorak said, still grinning as he stood up to help.

"Get off of me, you oaf," Shayla cursed, slapping his hands away.

Two bright spots of color were rising on her cheeks, and she looked furious.  Khalid, sensing an imminent explosion, spoke quickly, "Ah, why don't you hide your crossbow under that couch over there, and tuck a dagger down into the cushions.  You should be able to retrieve them quickly enough, should the need arise."  Shayla rather uncharacteristically bit back what she was about to say and simply nodded.  

Khalid surveyed the surroundings, trying to decide how best to arrange things to their advantage.  At Gorak's suggestion, Khalid and Shayla had visited most of the more expensive restaurants the day before, searching for a suitable room.  After looking at a half dozen places, they settled on a private room at the Crescent Moon.  It was to the rear of the restaurant, well away from other patrons and staff.  They had paid for the room for the entire afternoon, and left strict instructions not to be disturbed once the food had been served.

The room itself was long and narrow.  It had only one door leading to the restaurant and a window directly opposite that, which provided a delightful view of the small alley behind the building.  Only two chairs were arrayed around the large table that dominated the center of the room.  Khalid slid a chair to the end of the table, near the window, figuring that if things went bad, it would provide a convenient avenue of escape and placed the other chair near the door for Festran.  Frowning, he muttered, "Ah, yes, that's a little close to the door.  Yes, quite."

Gorak, who was stuffing Sousee underneath one of the couches, looked up from what he was doing.  "Yeah, but it'll look funny if he opens the door and you're sitting there with your back to him," he grumbled.  "Relax," he continued, "if the plan works it won't matter no how."

"Yes, quite."  Khalid muttered, very much aware that the plan, as it stood, relied rather heavily on him.  He scanned around the room, trying to think of anything he may have missed.

Gorak stood up and snapped his fingers.  "I almost forgot."  He fished two small vials out of a pouch at his waist.  "I picked these up."  He handed one of the vials to Shayla and the other to Khalid.*

"Ah," Khalid held it up to the light and examined it.  It was filled with a thin, translucent liquid. "What's this?"

"Healing unguent.  I got it off an alchemist down in the merchant's quarter.  They're expensive as hell, but worth it," he replied.

"Ah, yes, of course, assuming that the man who sold them to you wasn't a charlatan."  Khalid said dubiously but he tucked it in his belt nevertheless.

Gorak shrugged, "We'll find out sooner or later I guess.  Let's get ready, he could be here any time now."

Khalid closed his eyes, and chanted the words to a protection spell.  Once again, glowing bands rippled out from a small strip of leather he was holding, and encircled his body.
Shayla, watching him closely, waited until he had finished before speaking.  "Um, should I use this now Khalid?" she asked holding up a rolled piece of parchment.

"Ah, yes, that is yours to do with as you will, but now would probably be an appropriate time.  Yes quite," he replied.  "Just hold it, yes, like that and speak the rune as I showed you."

Shayla stared hard at the paper for a moment, and then spoke an arcane word.  Her eyes widened as the rune vanished and glowing bands, similar to the ones that just enveloped Khalid, surrounded her.  Then she grinned and flopped down on the couch in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

Khalid, smoothing the front of his crimson robes, sat down in the chair opposite the door.  Gorak, looking particularly menacing in his freshly oiled leather armor, took up a position slightly behind and to the right of Khalid.  Seeing that all was in order, Khalid took a deep breath and muttered, "Now it begins."

It didn't however, begin immediately.  In fact, much to Khalid's annoyance, it took Festran another half an hour to arrive.  The pudgy little man smiled broadly as he entered the room and said, "I am truly sorry for keeping you waiting."  His tone indicated that he was anything but.

 "Yes, quite." Khalid replied as he waved away the apology.  "Ah, I am, Achmed Abdul-Azim.  Please, sit down.  The food should be along shortly, yes, shortly."

Festran sat down at the opposite end of the table.  Khalid's heart began to pound, as no less than five guards, including a hulking brute of a man whose physique rivaled Gorak's, filed into the room.  The brute stood slightly behind Festran, near the door, while the other guards took up positions in the corners of the room.  Khalid noticed that Shayla had tensed up slightly and was biting her lower lip.  Gorak, implacable as always, showed no emotion as he sized up their adversaries.

Festran dispensed with the preamble and went straight to the point.  "So this is the girl," he practically purred.  "Not bad, not bad at all.  And you say that you can get more like her?"

"Ah, yes, quite." Khalid stammered, somewhat taken aback.  "With the ah, turmoil, yes turmoil in the east there are plenty of refugees.  Yes, quite."

"Interesting.  We may indeed be able to reach an agreement here.  Stand up girl, let me have a look at you," he instructed.

Shayla, staring daggers at both Khalid and Gorak, stood up slowly.  She was spared the indignity of parading around in front of the lecherous merchant however, as at that moment servants entered bearing trays of food.  They quietly and efficiently set the table and then backed out the door, bowing as they left.

"Now, where were we," Festran said.  "Ah yes.  Dance for me girl.  Let me see what skills you have."  Juice dribbled down his fleshy chin as he bit heavily into a piece of lamb.

Shayla, still glaring at Khalid, began to slowly strut around the room, emulating the motions of the dancing girls she'd seen at the inn.  Khalid, painfully aware of the terrible violence that would erupt at his command was desperately trying to think of a way to put more distance between himself and the guards that now surrounded him.  Even preoccupied as he was, Shayla's dance still captivated him and he was unable to look away as she wound her way around the room with sinuous grace.  When she finished, the guards were all leering appreciatively.

Festran however, looked unimpressed.  "Adequate," he remarked.

Khalid, realizing that the time for action was fast approaching, tried to look indignant as he stood up.  "Ah, yes, I assure you, she is of the highest quality…"

"Yes, yes," Festran dismissed his objection with a wave of his hand.  "It's nothing a little practice won't take care of.  Now, take that dress off and we'll see what you really have to offer."

"Achmed…" Shayla said dangerously.

"Ah, yes, you heard the man, get out of those…" Khalid was rather proud of himself.  There was no hesitation, no indication that anything was out of the ordinary as his sentence trailed off into an arcane chant.  With a flick of his hand he sent a tiny pinch of sand drifting through the air.  As it settled to the ground, the huge brute and the guard in the corner beside him toppled over.

Gorak reacted instantly.  Like a huge hunting cat, he took two quick steps forward and then leapt at Festran, tackling him backward off his chair.  Shayla too spun around at the sound of Khalid's voice and unleashed a spell on the guard behind her.

Festran's bodyguards, taken by surprise, were slow to act.  The guard nearest Khalid drove a fist into his gut, winding him.  Khalid staggered backwards and gasped out the words to a spell.  He couldn't spare the breath to curse however, as the man shrugged it off.  The guard beside Shayla started to move forward to help Festran, but Shayla cried out, "Please, you must defend me!"  Torn between his duty and Shayla's enchantment, he hesitated, glancing back and forth between the two.

Gorak was not faring as well.  Struggling with Festran on the ground, he was unable to defend himself as the other guard lined up and drove a fist into his kidney.  Gorak grunted and his grip on Festran relaxed, allowing the tubby merchant to wriggle free and scramble towards the door.  With a Herculean effort however, Gorak reached up and seized him by the belt, dragging him back to the ground and clamping a hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming.  Again and again the guard hammered at Gorak, landing blow after blow.  Gorak gritted his teeth and ignored the mounting punishment as he tightened his grip on Festran.

Khalid shied away as the guard circling him lunged forward, his fingertips just barely brushing the sleeve of Khalid's robe.  Khalid stumbled backwards with a startled squawk and was in the midst of casting another spell when out of the corner of his eye he saw the guard standing over Gorak draw his cudgel.  Even as the arcane words rolled from his lips, Khalid shifted his target and the guard with the cudgel blinked and shook his head as though seized by some strange confusion.

Shayla took the opportunity to dart in beside Gorak and upended one of the alchemical healing unguents over his head. The guard, finally shaking himself free of Khalid's minor confusion delivered a blow that would have felled a lesser man.  Gorak however, clenched his jaw and fought through the pain.  Festran jammed a hand up under his chin but Gorak swatted aside his feeble defenses and seized him by the hair.  Hauling back, Gorak then drove his head into the floor three times in quick succession.  Festran immediately went limp.

Sousee chose that instant to make her appearance and slid out from beneath the couch.  The guard immediately backed into the corner of the room crying out, "I surrender, I surrender, get it away from me!" 

Khalid whirled around, prepared to defend himself against the last two guards, but even as he turned, both guards dropped their cudgels to the floor.

"I surrender."

"Me too."

Shayla, breathing heavily from the excitement of the fight, reached under the couch and pulled out her crossbow.  Waving it at the three remaining guards, she ordered them back into the far corner of the room.  Gorak stood up slowly then, in obvious pain, and grunted, "We got no quarrel with you.  And if you just stay over there in the corner like good little boys, everybody will live to see the sunset."

At that moment, a servant tapped lightly on the door.  "Is everything alright in there?" he asked cautiously.**

Khalid answered quickly.  "Yes, quite.  We are, ah, yes, conducting business in here.  I told you we did not wish to ah, be disturbed!"

"Most sincerest apologies, effendi, I will not trouble you again."  Placated by Khalid's response, they heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

Gorak gathered up his things, then knelt down beside Festran.  Placing a hand over his mouth, Gorak pinched the man's earlobe between his thumb and forefinger until Festran came to with a muffled shriek.  His eyes however, were blank and unfocused and he seemed unaware of his surroundings.  Gorak grabbed a fist full of Festran's silk shirt and jerked him up into a sitting position.  Then he leaned in close and growled, "Arbaq sends his regards," before driving his other fist into Festran's face.  He then proceeded to beat Festran within an inch of his life.

Khalid, a little unsettled by the display, was keeping a close eye on the guards.  At the mention of Arbaq's name, one of the guards tensed up slightly.  "Ah, yes," Khalid said, "I see you recognize the name of our illustrious, yes, illustrious employer.  Be sure to remind Festran of it when he awakes."

With one final kick, Gorak scooped up Sousee and tossed her in his rucksack.  Turning to the guards he growled, "Count to five hundred.  Slow.  If I hear any noise outta any of you before then, maybe I'll come back here.  And if I do, you can damn well bet I won't be in such a good mood."  That said, he walked out the door, trailed by Khalid and Shayla.  They walked quickly through the restaurant and out into the searing desert sun.  

Turning down a side street, they walked in silence for a bit as they mingled into the afternoon crowds. Then Shayla began to chuckle, softly at first then finally bursting into laughter, "Did you see the look," she gasped, "on that fat pig's face when you tackled him?"

Gorak began to chuckle too, "Ya.  His jaw dropped open so wide I thought he was gonna swallow me.  He closed it up real quick though."  Gorak held up his hand.  The imprint of Festran's teeth was clearly visible in the fleshy part of his thumb.  "That hurt worse than the bastard hitting me with the club."

That sent Shayla into another gale of helpless laughter and finally, Khalid could contain himself no longer.  With people looking at them as though they were insane, they stood in the center of the street while the crowds walked past and laughed until the tears rolled down their faces.  Hundreds of miles from home, in this strange and dangerous city, Khalid no longer felt alone; in fact, flanked by his two best friends, he felt positively invincible.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:
*Galeman added these to the campaign because nobody ever plays a healer in our games.  A bit more explanation will come with next post, but here's the effects and prices:

Alchemical healing salves:
1d4  25 Gold
1d6  50 Gold
1d8  75 Gold

**The whole fight lasted 4 rounds I think.  This is fairly accurate as to what happened, but even after discussing it with everybody, we're still a little hazy on the exact details. I do know that we very nearly lost this fight.  When Shayla healed Gorak, he was at 1 hp.  He went up to 6, then immediately after that, he got clubbed for 5.  If I hadn't slept the big guard, we probably would have been toast..of course it didn't help that Gorak forgot about Sousee until the last round of the fight either


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## Bill Muench

That was a fun update. Thanks!


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## Bill Muench

Again I say: page 3? Back to the front with ye!


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## EternalNewbie

Okay, here's a short little update to keep the thread from vanishing into obscurity.  I'll also take the opportunity to encourage people to critique my writing as well.  Like many others posting in this forum, I'm writing this for a variety of reasons, one of which is to improve on writing skills, which have become a bit rusty in the last few years.  So go ahead and don't be shy to let me know what you like, and more importantly, what you don't.


* * * * * * * * * *​
"Well done," Arbaq's voice issued calmly from behind his array of silken screens.  "Well done indeed.  You have certainly surpassed my expectations."  His voice was as smooth and unruffled as always, but Khalid thought he detected a hint of amusement.  "Your promised reward awaits you in that chest over by the wall."

As Gorak moved to retrieve their payment, Khalid glanced around the room for the tenth time, hoping that some nubile young nymph would emerge for a dip in the pool.  The room however, which was the same one they had met Arbaq in before, remained depressingly empty much to Khalid's disappointment.  Realizing with a start that he had lost track of the conversation, Khalid focused back in on what Arbaq was saying.

"…and perhaps now we can discuss a more permanent arrangement?" Arbaq asked.

"Alright," Gorak grunted.  "Let's hear your offer."

"It's simple.  I manage an extensive trading concern and often run into situations that demand persons of particular talents, as you are already aware.  I will reward you appropriately for each undertaking, as well as cover any incidentals incurred in achieving a satisfactory resolution.  Anything you happen to acquire during the course of completing a task that is not specifically related to the task itself is yours to keep.  In return, I ask only that you inform me if you are leaving the city and of course that you not enter into the employ of any of my competitors.  You do not have to accept any job you do not wish to, however at that point we may need to reevaluate our relationship."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal," Gorak rumbled.

"I assure you," Arbaq continued, "that this partnership can only benefit all of us.  Together, we can make a great deal of money my friends.  If you need some time to think about it, there is no particular hurry although I would prefer an answer sooner rather than later."

"Dunno if that'll be necessary," Gorak replied.  "So far you've made me wealthier than I've ever been, and although I ain't much for cities, I gotta say, I kinda like this place."

Shayla glanced around the room with a calculating eye.  "A girl could get used to living like this," she said brightly.  "Count me in."  She looked at Khalid and cocked her head slightly.  "So, Khalid, what about you?  Isn't this what you were looking for?"

"Ah, yes, quite."  Khalid muttered.  "Ah, there is one small, rather insignificant problem that I should make you, ah, aware, yes, quite aware of."  Khalid paused slightly, trying to think of a way to cast it in the best light possible.  Stumped, he sighed and just forged ahead. "Ah, yes, I seem to be wanted in Gem-Sharad for, ah, treason.  Yes, quite."

"Indeed."  Khalid could hear the question in Arbaq's voice.

"Ah, it was the result of a small dispute.  I, ah, through no fault of my own I assure you, angered a reasonably powerful man, who, ah, yes, saw fit to put a bounty, yes, bounty on my head," Khalid stammered.  "I ah, do not have the means to attend to it yet and may not be able to return to Gem-Sharad for some time."

"How much?"

"Ah, yes, one thousand sultanas."  Khalid winced slightly as he waited to be thrown out of Arbaq's mansion.

"Hmmm." Arbaq paused as though weighing the options.  "Substantial, but certainly not extravagant.  For the moment, I need you here in Shalazar anyhow, so this should be nothing more than a slight inconvenience.  Once rumor spreads that you are working for me, most of the skilled locals won't risk it. Not for that amount of money.  If and when I need you to return to Gem-Sharad, I'll make some inquiries, and see if we can't get this little mess sorted out."

"Ah, yes, quite."  Khalid breathed a sigh of relief.  "In that case, I'm your man."

"Excellent.  I already have another matter that needs your attention.  An old acquaintance of mine went missing some time ago.  I want you to search his house and see if you can find any clue to his whereabouts."

"That's it?" Shayla asked, somewhat surprised.

"Not exactly," Arbaq replied.  "The first man I sent in there never returned, and the city has since condemned the house and declared it off limits.  The man's name was Achmed Abdul-Khaliq and he was a devout follower of Fezayl, as well as a renowned artificer and theologian.  As you may already know, the holy men of these lands lost their conduit to the heavens at the same time the wizards lost their power."*

"Ah, yes, you know about the misfortunes of the White tower?" Khalid interjected, somewhat surprised.

"Indeed.  They have not been entirely successful at keeping that little secret concealed.  Rumors are beginning to spread and the truth is there to be found, for those that have the means to look."  Arbaq replied.

"I remember that time," Shayla said.  "There were riots in Gem-Sharad.  Temples were burned and looted and a fair number of atrocities committed against the priests."  She shivered slightly.

"Yes," Arbaq agreed.  "Those were indeed dangerous times.  The people blamed the priests for the gods disappearance, although it is widely suspected that the Sultan himself had a hand in organizing those little demonstrations.  If that was the case, he did a masterful job.  The clergy have all but abandoned Gem-Sharad".  

Arbaq paused for a second before continuing.  "However, that is of only marginal relevance to the issue at hand.  After he lost his ability to communicate with his god, Achmed became introverted and erratic.  I saw him only twice afterwards.  The first time, he claimed it was a test from the gods, and that his faith was strong.  The second time was some months after that."  Arbaq paused again.  "He was no longer so certain of himself.  He looked terrible, like a man consumed by a purpose that had been thwarted at every turn.  He confided in me that he was expending the last of his power in an attempt to reach his god.  After that, I heard from him no more.  It was then that I dispatched one of my better investigators to look into the matter.  As I mentioned before he never returned and the city has since boarded up the house."

"Right." Gorak grunted.  "Simple enough.  We bust in, grab anything that looks like it might be important and report back here.  That sum it up pretty good?"

"Indeed.  If you need anything, simply send a runner to my estate, and I'll make the appropriate arrangements.  I do have other matters to attend to, however, and may not be available immediately, so take that into consideration when planning your next move.  Now, unless there is anything else you need this evening, the other business I mentioned demands my attention."  And with that, Arbaq curtly dismissed them.

As they walked down the path towards the front gates of Arbaq's estate, Khalid spoke up.  "Ah, yes, perhaps on the way back to the inn, we should take a look at this cleric's ah, domicile, as it were, to get an idea of the layout."

"Ya.  Good idea."  Gorak grunted.

The trio walked in silence for a while through the upper class neighborhoods of Shalazar.  They found the cleric's house nestled in between two stately manors.  A shoulder high stone wall surrounded a modest front yard.  Months of neglect and the searing desert sun had combined to turn the grounds into a barren wasteland.  Most of the grasses and flowers had been scorched brown by the heat, and what hardy plants remained were wild and overgrown.  The house itself was only a single story, longer than it was deep, as near as Khalid could tell.  The windows and front door had been boarded up securely and although there was a chain around the front gate there appeared to be enough slack to allow them to squeeze through.

"Wow.  Those city workers really take their job seriously."  Shayla remarked as they walked past.

"Yup," Gorak rumbled, "it's boarded up pretty good, but it won't be no problem to get in I don't think."

As they walked back to the inn, they discussed their plans for the next few days.  Khalid insisted on time to prepare and it was eventually decided to make the initial foray in three days.  Khalid spent the intervening time locked in his room, hunched over a towering stack of paper.  Alternating his time between his research and scribing scrolls, he emerged only to eat and of course, wash the ink from his hands down at the baths.  

On the morning of the third day, Khalid was awoken to Gorak's gravelly voice from outside his door.  "C'mon," Gorak growled.  "Let's get going."

"Ah, what time is it?" Khalid groaned, groping around in the darkness for his robes.

"Time to get going," Gorak snarled.

Shayla looked even less impressed than Khalid to be roused at such an ungodly hour but amazingly enough, she only complained for half of the journey to the cleric's house before settling in to a sullen pout.  Her mood improved immeasurably however as they squeezed through the front gate and began sideling around the edge of the house.  The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten as Gorak dug around in his pack and pulled out a small shovel.  Just as he was about to push his way through the dying shrubbery around the back wall of the house, he stopped and looked at Khalid.

"What the hell is that thing?" Gorak growled.

"Ah, what?" Khalid asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

"That."  Gorak pointed at Khalid's stomach.  "You don't even have pants on, why in the nine hells do you need a belt that big, much less the suspenders that are attached to it?"

"Ah, it holds my spell components, among other things. Yes, quite."  Khalid replied somewhat defensively.  He'd had the belt specially made by a master leatherworker and designed it to hold the innumerable scrolls and pouches that he habitually carried around.  It was dark black leather, tooled and polished with sterling silver buckles and had cost him a fair bit.  All in all, Khalid was moderately proud of it.

Gorak muttered something inaudible under his breath, and then moved forward to attack the boards covering one of the windows at the rear of the house.   Levering the spade in between two of the planks, he loosened it enough to get his thick fingers behind it.  Then dropping the shovel to the ground, he grasped the board with both hands and pulled with all his strength.  The nails holding it to the window frame gave a protesting shriek as Gorak pulled the board free and flung it into the yard.  In short order he had pulled several more boards free and cleared most of the window.  He was about to smash in the window when he suddenly turned to Shayla, with a broad grin on his face.  "Darling, why don't you do the honors?"

"With pleasure," Shayla grinned, the excitement evident in her voice.  She and Khalid moved to opposite sides of the window, while Gorak took a step back.  Shayla cocked her crossbow, then smashed the butt through the window.  

Gorak moved through the opening quickly.  As he landed on the other side, he gave a sharp hiss of pain.  "Watch it, there's glass everywhere," he growled.

Shayla hopped through next, landing silently on the other side.  Khalid's progress was somewhat less graceful as he managed to both tear his robe and cut his hand on the way through.  Cursing quietly, he gathered his wits and peered around the room.  Through the darkness he could barely make out the shape of a long dining table surrounded by chairs.

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid began, "I could use some light…"

"Quiet," Gorak growled.  "There's nothing dangerous in here and I wanna listen for a second."

Khalid blushed in the darkness and then strained to listen as well.  The seconds ticked by as the three stood in silence, then finally Gorak spoke.  "Alright, seems clear.  Shayla, give us some light."

With a word and a gesture, Shayla flooded the room with clear, white light.  They were indeed in a dining room.  Ten chairs, four on each side and one at either end, surrounded the long, polished wooden table.  In the far corner of the room was a large china hutch, filed with dishes and silverware.  Directly behind the head of the table, on the west wall, hung an elaborate tapestry over a large set of double doors.  The tapestry was emblazoned with a strange crest, which Khalid presumed was the symbol of the man's god.  On the south wall was another, smaller door, framed by portraits of stern looking men with dour expressions.

"Well, there ain't nothing unusual in here," Gorak growled as he moved around the edge of the table.  "I say we check out this room over…" Gorak grunted, the air exploding from his lungs, as one of the chairs hopped over and butted him in the stomach.  Khalid blinked in disbelief as the huge armchair at the end of the table followed suit, wobbling over towards Gorak, who was doubled over gasping for breath.  When it reached him, it spun around and leapt into the air, slamming its headrest into Gorak's face.  Gorak staggered backwards and spit out a mouthful of blood.

Khalid, dumbfounded by the scene, began to giggle helplessly.  "Ah, Gorak, you seemed to have angered the furniture."

"I can see that, you ass," Gorak roared.  "Now stop standing around and help me."

"Ah, just watch exactly do you want me to…" Khalid's sentence trailed off as the large china cabinet in the corner began to rock back and forth.  Then suddenly its drawers flew open and Khalid uttered a startled yelp as an ornate silverware knife buried itself in the window frame beside his head.  Shayla immediately dove for cover behind the end of the table as a delicate china teacup was ejected from the cabinet and smashed into Khalid's face, bloodying his nose.

Gorak in the meantime had drawn his cudgel and was swinging furiously at the dancing furniture.  He caught one of the chairs with a glancing blow that toppled it over, but it immediately righted itself, apparently no worse for the blow.  A third chair began to move and yet another trembled violently as though shaken by some gigantic unseen hand.  The chairs capered and danced around Gorak, leaping into the air every so often in a comical attempt to strike him.

Shayla, from her position at the end of the table was methodically loading and firing her crossbow into the china cabinet.  After the second shot, she cursed.  "This isn't working."

Gorak, starting to tire from the constant battering, growled, "We've gotta figure out what's controlling them."  Then he brought down his cudgel, smashing the armrest of one of the chairs.

Khalid, who had been biding his time, jumped into the fray as Gorak stepped back.  Chanting quickly he produced his most damaging spell and engulfed two of the chairs in a cone of searing embers.  Both immediately burst into flames.  Neither chair seemed particularly concerned.

"That's just great Khalid," Gorak roared as he tried desperately to keep the flaming furniture at bay.  "Now why don't you just knock me out and really make this fight interesting!"

"Ah, sorry, yes quite."  Khalid apologized as he ducked a silver goblet and crouched down beside Shayla who had abandoned her crossbow and was now chanting with her eyes closed.  When she opened them, she stared past Khalid with a look of intense concentration on her face.

Khalid was vindicated however, as one of the burning chairs flared up and then collapsed into a pile of smoldering sticks.  Gorak brought his cudgel down hard on the other chair, shattering its back and splintering the seat.  The wounded chair hobbled pathetically into the corner of the room and then fell motionless to the ground.  The third chair took the opportunity to butt Gorak in the back, eliciting a sharp grunt of pain from the half-orc.

"There's magic in the room," Shayla cried.  "And it's powerful."

"Don't you people have anything better to do than state the obvious?" Gorak snarled.  Then his knees buckled as a huge, silver serving tray banged off his head.

"I can see it now," Shayla continued.  "It cuts through half of the room.  I can't tell what type it is."

"It's the type that makes furniture come alive!" Gorak cursed. With a roar, he dropped his cudgel and tackled the chair.  It writhed and twisted in his grip but Gorak held firm.  For a few moments Gorak stood motionless as he strained against the magic animating the chair.  Sweat rolled down his face, and mingled with the blood streaming from his mouth.

Khalid, watching the burly half-orc grapple with an elaborately carved teakwood chair, leaned in close to Shayla and whispered, "That is undoubtedly the strangest thing I have ever seen."  

Shayla nodded in agreement then peeked up over the edge of the table.  "Well, at least the china hutch is out of ammunition."

Slowly Gorak dragged the chair back towards Khalid and Shayla and closer to the edge of the magic aura.  With one final heave he twisted his body and pitched the chair against the back wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces.  He stood there silently for a moment breathing heavily and glaring at Khalid and Shayla.  "Next time," Gorak growled in between breaths, "you help me." He pointed at Shayla.  "And you," he jabbed Khalid in the chest with one of his thick fingers, "don't!"

They patched themselves up as best they could, with the aid of both Gorak's magic and his skill in the healing arts.  The china hutch and the other chair on the edge of the aura continued to twitch and jerk, but seemed for the most part to be relatively impotent now.

Gorak groaned and stood up, the vertebrae in his back popping audibly as he stretched.  He reached down and picked up his backpack, which jingled with pilfered silverware.  "So," he grumbled, "who wants to wager our friend here was eaten by his bed?"

"I'll put five, yes, five sultana's on an armoire." Khalid snickered.

"Boys, boys, boys.  We've got more important things to do," Shayla admonished.  "Stay focused."

Gorak raised an eyebrow.  "She's telling us to stay focused?" he chuckled.  "We'd better get her out of here Khalid, I think that magic is starting to affect her."

Shayla dismissed him with a toss of her auburn curls.  "Well we still haven't found what we're looking for have we?  And besides, there's gotta be something better in here than dented silverware.  So which door are we going through?"

"Yes," Khalid replied, becoming serious again.  "Which door indeed?"

* * * * * * * * * *​Notes:
*Heh, you might think that removing clerics from the world would cause problems, but nobody in our group ever plays clerics.  Ever.


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## pogre

Groups are so different...

We always have a cleric it's the arcane classes no one seems to favor in my groups.


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## EternalNewbie

Okay, here's a new update only 4 days after the last one, but try not to get too spoiled, I'm not sure I can maintain this pace for long.  If I recall correctly, the end of this update is an actual stopping point in a game session.  You'll see what I mean when you reach the bottom   .  Anyhow, I haven't much to say this time around, so, uh, thanks for dropping by and enjoy the show...

* * * * * * * * * *​
"The small door." Gorak rumbled.  "Big doors mean big rooms, and that means lots of furniture."

Khalid was about to point out that by following that logic, small doors meant small rooms, which meant less room to run away, but Gorak had already moved to the small door and flung it open.

"Shayla," Gorak growled.  "Check it out."

Khalid placed his hand on Shayla's arm.  "Ah, yes, allow me."  He stepped forward and cast a simple divination spell.  "The room beyond is clear, the aura barely, yes, barely emerges past the west wall."  Khalid frowned.  "Ah, yes, I'm unable to determine the exact nature of the magic either.  Yes, quite."

"Don't really matter, does it?" Gorak grumbled.  "I think we got a pretty good idea of what it does.  Let's go."

Gorak moved forward warily, into what appeared to be a small study.  Bookshelves lined the east wall, framing a small writing desk and two large leather armchairs were arranged around a small table in the far corner of the room.  There was a door directly opposite the one they had just entered, leading south, and another one on the west wall.  Khalid glanced at the bookshelves as he entered the room, but saw nothing of immediate interest.  The man seemed to have a penchant for theology and bad poetry from Khalid's cursory inspection.  The writing desk too, was devoid of any clues as to the man's whereabouts.  Sheets of parchment were stacked neatly to one side and vials of ink, now hardened, were lined up meticulously alongside perfectly sharpened quills.

"Nothing." Gorak grunted after poking around the room.  "Let's move through this door.  I ain't in the mood to wrassle any more furniture just yet."

The room to the south was the cleric's bedroom.  A large, four poster bed lay against the east wall and a full length, dust covered mirror hung on the far wall.  Shafts of sunlight poked through the boarded up windows and cut golden swaths through the room.  A huge iron bound book lay on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Oooh," Shayla purred as she pushed past Gorak into the room, "I always wanted a bed like this."

"Ah, wait, Shayla, no!" Khalid spoke too late, as Shayla hopped on the bed.  She leapt off it as though she had been shot out of a ballista as an enormous cloud of dust exploded from the mattress.  Coughing and choking, they retreated back into the study until the air cleared.

Shayla had the good graces to at least look apologetic.  "Umm, sorry.  I wasn’t thinking."

Gorak muttered something under his breath, and moved back into the room.  He stopped to examine the book on the nightstand before picking it up and blowing the dust off it.

"Ah, what is it?" Khalid asked.

Gorak held it up so Khalid could read the title.  "Ah, _Classical Interpretations of the Doctrine of Fezayl: Articles I through CDXXXVIII.II_.  That sounds dreadful.  Yes, quite."

Gorak grunted.  "Probably, but it might give us some idea of what happened to him.  I'll take a look at it later."

Khalid moved over to the nightstand and began to poke around in the cleric's personal effects as Gorak moved towards what appeared to be a closet.  Gorak opened the door and then muttered, "Nothing in here.  Just some old robes and stuff."  He reached out to touch one of them and it crumbled into dust.

Khalid whirled around as the closet door slammed shut with a crash and Gorak staggered backwards, coughing heavily.

"Ah, more dust."  Khalid said sympathetically.  Then a look of concern crossed his face as Gorak sank to one knee and began to gasp for air.  His coughs took on a thick, tearing sound as blood flecked his lips.  "Gorak," Khalid asked, "are you, ah, alright?"  He was becoming alarmed.

Gorak however, waved away Khalid's help as the coughing fit slowly subsided.  Somewhat unsteadily, Gorak rose to his feet and took a few deep breaths, a look of pain etched on his features.  Grimacing at his blood and mucus stained hand, he wiped it on his leather breeches and growled, "I dunno what in the nine hells is in there, but it's more than just dust.  Some kinda spores or something."

Shayla sighed.  "Well there's nothing in here.  Our only options lead back into rooms blanketed in that aura."

"Ah, well perhaps we should regroup then, yes?" Khalid asked.

Gorak grumbled, "Ya, maybe.  That stuff just kicked the hell out of me, whatever it was and if we have to go room by room, smashing every piece of furniture from one end of the house to the other, I could use a rest."

"And it's not like another day, yes, will make any difference.  He's been missing for months now.  Yes, quite."  Khalid added.

That decided the trio exited the building the way they had entered and moved back around the side of the house.  Their timing however, left much to be desired.  Just as they were slipping out through the front gate, two city guardsmen came marching down the street.

"What are you doing in there?" one of the guardsmen demanded.

"Ah, yes, well you see," Khalid stalled, his mind racing frantically.  "We're looking, yes, looking for my, ah friend, yes friend."  Khalid continued, realizing he was treading dangerously close to the truth. "Because ah, he, ah, owes me money.  Yes, that's it, he owes me money.  Yes, quite."  Khalid smiled innocently at the guards.

"Well, good luck collecting," one of the guards replied, eyeing the group suspiciously.  "That guy ain't been seen in months and that place is off limits, by the order of the city council."

"Ah, yes, quite.  That certainly would explain all the boards."  Khalid agreed.  Then a cunning look crossed his face as he leaned in close to the guards and whispered, "Ah, yes, he owes me quite, yes, quite a bit of money.  I would appreciate it if you forgot, yes, forgot that we were ever around here." He pressed a sultana into the guard's hand.

"Whatever," the guard shrugged.  "Just stay away from that house."

The matter settled, they returned to the inn to lick their wounds and rest.  They spent the rest of the day relaxing in the terraced garden, drinking coffee and discussing the best way to approach the rest of the house.   Khalid however, found himself distracted and irritable for most of the day.  He couldn't seem to concentrate on the conversation and a strange buzzing sound, akin to a swarm of tiny insects, hovered just on the edge of his awareness.  Finally, after half-heartedly poking at his supper, Khalid pushed his plate away and sighed.

"Khalid, is something bothering you," Shayla asked.  "You hardly touched your second helping."

"Ah, it's nothing," he replied.  "I just need some rest, yes, rest, after this morning's excitement."  He stood up and left the table, heading for his room upstairs.  Sleep took a long time coming, and when it finally did, his dreams were twisted and incoherent.  Tortured and beset by strange images, Khalid sat bolt upright in his bed, gasping for breath.  Lighting a lantern, Khalid rushed over to his desk and began furiously writing.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Gorak picked up a date from the platter in front of him, and popped it in his mouth.  Shayla was sitting opposite him, sipping at glass of fruit juice and idly playing with a strand of her hair.  "So," Gorak grunted.  "You seen Khalid yet today?"

"Nope," she replied.  "Maybe he's down in the baths."

"Nah, was down there already this morning," Gorak rumbled, "didn't see him.  Pounded on his door too, didn't get any answer."

"Well, maybe he went out early," Shayla suggested.

"Khalid, go out early, without having breakfast?" Gorak grumbled.

"You're right, maybe we should go check on him."

Just as they stood up from the table, they heard a shout and a crash from above them.  Gorak sprinted to the stairs and raced up them, two at a time, with Shayla close behind.  Khalid was standing in the hallway, naked to the waist, holding a sheaf of papers in his hand and capering about the hallway.

"I figured it out! Yes, yes, I've solved it!" he cried as he danced about.  Seizing Gorak by the shoulders he began to speak quickly, "I can conceptualize, yes, conceptualize the formulae needed to ah, stabilize the anomaly, yes, quite."

Gorak brushed his hands off.  "Make sense man," he growled.

"Ah, yes, yes, watch."  Khalid raced into his room and returned with a coil of rope.  Throwing it on the ground, he closed his eyes and began to chant.  As he finished, the rope rose slowly into the air, until the tip almost brushed the ceiling.

Gorak looked less than impressed.  "Ya, that's great Khalid," he growled, "you'll be a big hit at parties."

"Ah, no, that's not all.  Yes, quite.  Watch."  Khalid grasped the rope in both hands and managed to raise himself almost a full two feet off the ground before sliding back down.  "Ah, yes," Khalid stammered, turning red.  "I had, ah, the wasting fever as a child, it sapped the strength, yes, strength from my hands."  He took a deep breath and tried again.  Aided by the magic of the spell, he climbed the rope easily this time. When he reached the top, instead of banging his head on the ceiling, he simply vanished from sight.  A second later Khalid's head poked into view.  "Ah, climb up, climb up," he instructed and then vanished from sight again.

As Shayla and Gorak climbed the rope, they too passed through an invisible portal and were greeted with a flat, featureless plane that extended in all directions.  It was disorienting at first, as the only way to tell ground from sky was a slight darkening of the grey haze.  "Nice," Gorak grunted, looking somewhat more impressed now.  "How long can you hold it?"

"Ah, hours," Khalid replied gleefully.  "It's not endless however, but it's large enough for our purposes.  Yes, quite.  If you walk too far in any direction, you will reach a boundary of sorts.  And," he pulled the rope up, "when you pull in the rope, it's completely invisible and impenetrable from the outside."  Khalid looked enormously pleased with himself.

They descended out of the planar void and back into the inn.  Khalid, realizing that he was clad in only a loincloth, blushed and quickly returned to his room.  He emerged moments later, dressed in his familiar crimson robes and joined Shayla and Gorak downstairs.  Over breakfast, they decided to postpone their assault until the next morning, to give Khalid more time to prepare.

That night, while he was bent over his spell book crafting a scroll, Khalid heard a knock at his door.  Rising slowly and stretching to relieve the cramped tension in his back, he walked over to the door and opened it just a crack.  Seeing Shayla standing there, looking somewhat unsure of herself, he opened the door fully.  "Ah, yes, Shayla, is there something I can help you with?"

"Um, no, not really I guess," she replied, "I was just checking in to see how your research was going."

"Ah, quite well, yes, quite."  Khalid knew something was up now, every time he mentioned his research Shayla started yawning.  "Would you like to, ah, come in?" he asked.

Shayla walked in quietly, and sat on the edge of Khalid's bed.  Unsure of exactly what to do, Khalid stood by the door somewhat awkwardly as the silence lengthened.  Finally, Shayla spoke.  "Khalid, do you know much about magic, I mean, about the way I cast spells?"

Khalid, caught off guard by the question, stammered, "Ah, no, not really I'm afraid."

Shayla, looking downcast, practically whispered, "Oh, I see."

"Ah, it wasn't a very popular topic at the White Tower, I'm afraid," Khalid apologized.  "Those who study magic tend to look down their noses at sorcerers, thinking them to be limited and uneducated."  He realized that probably wasn't making her feel any better and quickly continued, "Ah, but from what I have seen of you, you are neither of those things.  Yes, quite.  I do know that the magic you wield is arcane, similar to mine and quite, yes, quite different from that which Gorak wields, but, ah, whereas I must study formulae to grasp at the weave of magic, it flows through you like a river.  But, ah, why ask me?  Surely, you know this better, yes, better than I?"

Shayla nodded.  "I guess so, it's just…" she hesitated, then continued, "it's just that it's becoming easier to cast spells.  I know that sounds silly, but I feel, well, most of the time I feel like a glass that's filled right to the brim, ready to spill.  I'm just worried that I'm going to lose control, and something's going to happen.  These last few days it's been like, well, like it was in the beginning, when I was young."  Her eyes grew distant as she watched the sights only memory can provide.  "Those were…difficult times."

"Ah, yes," Khalid replied, searching for the right thing to say.  "Magic can be, ah, unpredictable, yes quite.  But I know you, yes, I think I know you quite well now, and I know that you are stronger, yes quite stronger than you may think.  You will find a way, yes, a way to control the magic, to bend it to your will, I have no doubt," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Shayla smiled slightly, "Thanks Khalid."

"Ah, but if you want, I can perhaps do some research, yes, research on the subject."

She shook her head, "No, that's alright Khalid, I do feel better now.  I just wanted to talk to somebody about it I guess."  She stood up and moved towards the door.  "Thanks Khalid, you're a good friend."

After she had left, Khalid sat down at his writing desk and picked up his quill.  He didn't start writing immediately however, still marveling over what Shayla had said.  Friend, she had called him.    The thought that a woman as beautiful, wealthy and powerful as Shayla would call him a friend would have been ludicrous two months ago.  As he thought back over the events of the last month, the danger and the excitement, the fear and the elation, Khalid realized just how empty his life had been before he had fled Gem-Sharad.  Smiling to himself as the familiar sound of quill scratching across parchment filled his ears, Khalid found himself almost anxious for the morning sun.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"So," Gorak grumbled.  "Who's gonna be the first one in there."

They were standing in the study of the cleric's house, looking into what appeared to be a trophy room.  The heads of various dangerous and vicious animals were mounted around the wall on plaques, each with a name and date beneath it.  The room was unadorned save for a large bearskin rug in the very center.  It was also bathed in the bluish glow of a powerful magic aura.

"Ah, yes, from what I can tell," Khalid said as he studied the aura, "the source of the magic is probably over in that part of the house, possibly below us as well."  He waved at the southeast corner of the room.

"How much you wanna bet that rug tries to eat us?" Gorak grumbled.

"And," Shayla chimed in, "how much do you wanna bet that there's a trap door beneath it?"

"Nothing," Gorak growled.  "Alright, get ready."  As soon as Gorak stepped foot into the room, the rug bunched up and launched itself at Gorak, who quickly retreated out of the magical aura.  The rug lay quivering in the doorway and seemed almost lifelike in its desire to attack them.  Khalid began casting a spell and enshrouded the glorified carpet in a haze of flame and ash.  Even as the spell left his fingertips, he heard Shayla start chanting as well.  Thin, glowing discs of force streaked out from her hands and slashed into the rug, tearing deep cuts into the pelt.  The rug, possessed of minimal intelligence, retreated out of sight along the wall of the trophy room.

Khalid turned to Shayla, and looked at her questioning.  Shayla just winked, and mouthed the words, "You were right."

Gorak grunted, "Great.  Now I've got to go lure it out again.  Shayla, whatever you just did, do it again as soon as you see it."  With that, he stepped forward into the trophy room.

Again the rug scuttled forward, still smoldering slightly from the effects of Khalid's spell.  The fanged maw bit Gorak on the ankle as he somewhat ineffectually smashed his cudgel down on it.  Shayla unleashed spell after spell upon the animated creature, finally slashing it into tatters with a final volley of spinning blades.

"I told you," Shayla said with a smile on her face.  "I told you there'd be a trap door under there."

"I didn't hear nobody arguing with you, darling," Gorak rumbled as he moved forward into the trophy room.  As he strayed too close to one of the walls, a panther's head snapped at him and he stepped back.  "Playful.  It's safe enough in here, just mind the walls."

As Khalid and Shayla entered the room, Gorak reached down and pulled on the trapdoor.  It didn’t budge.  "Locked," he growled.  "Stand back and gimme some room."  He reached down and grasped the iron ring on the trapdoor with both hands.  With both feet braced shoulder width apart, he began to slowly stand up.   The muscles on his arms and legs bulged under the strain and his breath quickened as he exerted enormous force on the door.

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid said hesitantly, "there's probably a key around here someplace, if we just keep…."  With a splintering crack, the frame around the trapdoor shattered.  As Gorak jerked upright, the door tore completely from its hinges.  

Gorak stood there, grinning, with the shattered remains of the trapdoor in his hands.  "I'd say ladies first," he growled, "but it's probably better if I led the way."  He began moving cautiously down the stone staircase.  "And besides, ain't no ladies around here anyhow," he chuckled.

Shayla dismissed him with a flick of her auburn curls.  "Stop trying to be funny and tell me what you see."

"Nothing yet.  It goes down pretty deep," Gorak's voice echoed up from below.  "Alright.  I'm at the bottom.  Khalid, you'd better get down here."

Khalid and Shayla hurried down the stairs, bringing a magical light source with them.  As Khalid stepped into the room at the bottom of the stairway, he gasped in awe.  "This workmanship rivals that of the Hall of Summoning within the White Tower."

The room that so impressed Khalid was obviously a workshop of some type.  Long tables lined three of the walls, and tools of every sort hung from pegs above the tables.  In each of the corners of the room was a large glass tube, almost eight feet high and five feet across, standing on an ornately carved pedestal.  The tubes were filled with a cloudy, greenish liquid.  What had caught Khalid's attention however, was not the table, the tools or even the tubes.  Carefully inlaid into the floor in the center of the room were arcane glyphs whose meaning was all to clear to any student of magic.  Within the outer circle of runes was another set of glyphs, forming a square whose points touched the edges of the circle.  Inside the square was a circular depression, filled with a fine white sand.  In the very center of the sand were a pair of footprints, which led straight towards the stairway.

Shayla and Gorak fanned out, searching around the room for any clues to the cleric's disappearance.  Gorak wandered over and picked up a book that was lying open on one of the tables.  He absently flipped through a few pages and grunted, "Looks like the clerics journal."

Khalid knelt down in front of the summoning circle and began to examine the runes meticulously.  Each individual glyph had been hand carved from jade and inlaid into what appeared to be a single piece of white marble, carefully shaped and polished into a huge circle.  The whole thing had a diameter of almost twenty feet, and Khalid couldn't begin to estimate how much it must have cost.

Shayla, in the meantime, had moved towards one of the glass tubes and was inspecting it with interest.  Then suddenly, she uttered a startled shriek and stumbled backwards.  Khalid, startled, almost brushed against the rune he was inspecting.  "Ah, careful," he admonished, "you almost made me break the summoning circle."

"Sorry," Shayla apologized, "but I think I found our cleric."

Gorak and Khalid both moved over beside Shayla, and examined the glass tube she had been inspecting.  The liquid was darker, and much cloudier than in the other tanks.  As they watched, a twisted and bloated face emerged and bumped up against the glass.  The cleric, identifiable from the markings on his cloak, was in the early stages of decomposition.  The flesh on his face had begun to peel away, revealing white bone beneath.  His eyes were already gone, Khalid noted, before he glanced away from the grotesque scene.  Slowly, the body rolled around in the tube, and vanished from sight again.

"Ah, yes, it would appear as though some one, or ah, some thing has seen fit to ah, well, pickle him," Khalid said, somewhat unnecessarily.  "I suspect that he may have summoned something too, ah, powerful to handle, although as of yet I have discovered no irregularities in the protective wards. Yes, quite."

Shayla cast a quick spell and stared hard at the glass tube containing the cleric.  "Well, there's magic in there," she said.  "Let's see.  The staff is giving off the same aura as the one upstairs, so that must be what's causing all the furniture to jump around.  His cloak is magical too, as is that backpack he's wearing.  Neither is as powerful as that staff though."

"Well, what are we gonna do?  Bust him out?" Gorak rumbled.

"Ah, yes, I'm not entirely sure that's wise," Khalid replied.  "We may be a bit, yes, a bit beyond our depth here.  Yes, quite.  Handling unknown magic items is, ah, risky at best.  Perhaps, yes, perhaps we should just inform Arbaq, and let him decide."

"I suppose you're right," Shayla said, "although I hate to leave that staff behind."

"Ya." Gorak grunted. "I don't really see any way to get it open without smashing it anyhow, and Arbaq might not like us man handling his buddy like that."

The three turned and began to head towards the stairs when Khalid suddenly snapped his fingers.  "Ah, you know, on second thought, there's not really any point in leaving without getting him out of there.  We'll just have to make another trip back here.  Yes, quite."  Khalid looked around for something to smash the glass, and realized he was holding his crossbow.  He loaded it quickly and raised it to his shoulder, taking aim at the glass tube.

"What?" Gorak growled, surprised.

"Yeah, you're right Khalid," Shayla agreed.  "And besides, if you guys think I'm leaving here without that staff, you're crazy."

"Listen I thought we agreed we were gonna...." Gorak began as Khalid fired his crossbow.  The bolt notched the glass and ricocheted off, but failed to crack the tube.

"Ah, yes, it's thicker than it looks." Khalid half muttered.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Shayla said with exasperation, "let me show you how it's done."  She walked over to one of the walls and pulled a small hammer from its peg.

"Now wait just a minute!" Gorak snarled as he moved towards Shayla.  He had just about reached her when she drew back and slammed the hammer into the glass.  The glass starred beneath the blow, but did not shatter.  Then, a thin spider web of cracks fanned out from the spot Shayla had smashed.  Greenish ichor began to leak down the side of the tube and pool on the floor.

Khalid shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, which had suddenly become confused and unsettled.   The tube continued to crack and the droplets of ichor flowing down the side of the glass became a stream that sprayed out upon the floor.  Khalid blinked as a wave of greenish fluid washed over his feet.  Then his eyes widened and he spun around in horror, just in time to see the fluid wash over the runes inscribed on the floor.

Shayla, hammer still in hand, looked at the tube, and then at 
Khalid and Gorak with growing fear on her face.  "Oh sh*t," she said simply.  And then darkness engulfed them.


----------



## pogre

Well done Galeman! I can almost hear your evil menacing laugh on this one!


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## Galeman

Thanks Pogre.  But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual.  You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.


----------



## pogre

Galeman said:
			
		

> Thanks Pogre.  But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual.  You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.




Of course, but:

_It has been said that the essence of story telling is “somebody gets into trouble, and then they get out of it.” _ 

You certainly did your part!


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

Hey, this is Gorak here.  In my opinion this is where things in the campaign got very....interesting.  So, without further ado...

BUMP


----------



## woolybearundertaker

Great Story Hour! I love the way the Middle Eastern culture and setting are focused on!  


Now that I ve been all complimentary, can we get another update? ;-)

-WBU


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## EternalNewbie

woolybearundertaker said:
			
		

> Now that I ve been all complimentary, can we get another update? ;-)
> 
> -WBU




Yes.  Yes you can.



			
				Galeman said:
			
		

> But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual.  You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.




Bah.  Let's get something straight here.  First, there are no clerics in this world.  Second, warriors can't wear metal armor without making con checks for heat exhaustion.  Third, everything we fight is like 4 levels higher than us.  And now you're getting huffy cuz we do a little _tactical maneouvering_?  Heh, no wonder nobody ever gets past 5th level in your campaign.

Alright, enough witty banter and on to the stuff that you came here for.  I present, for your reading enjoyment, the final part of Chapter 2:  The City of Sin.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Alone.  I'm all alone, Khalid thought.  His breath was coming in quick, short gasps and his heart hammered in his chest.  The darkness surrounding him was absolute and all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears.  Then, ever so slowly, the darkness began to recede.  As the feeble light from Shayla's spell began to strengthen behind the retreating darkness, Khalid saw that he was not alone.  Gorak and Shayla were still there, standing exactly where they had been before the darkness engulfed them.  Khalid breathed a sigh of relief that caught in his lungs as he turned around. 

In the center of the summoning circle, the darkness gathered with increasing speed.  Khalid felt as though he was at the center of a hurricane, as the darkness rushed past him and coalesced into the shape of a man.  Suddenly, Khalid desperately wished that he was alone, and a thousand miles away from this place.

The man that appeared at the center of the summoning circle was not physically imposing.  He was slightly shorter than Khalid's six feet, although somewhat broader in the chest than Khalid and dressed in an immaculate suit of Eastern origin.  A jet black waistcoat covered a white silk shirt.  Long black breeches were tucked into knee-high riding boots that were polished to a mirror shine.  A single ring adorned his right hand, capped with a blood red ruby.

But it was not the expensive clothing that held Khalid breathless; it was the creature's face.  His features would have been regular, even handsome, were it not for the inhuman cruelty etched upon them.  No trace of human compassion had ever crossed that flawless face; no tenderness or mercy had ever softened the hard angles.

A devil, Khalid thought frantically.  It has to be some sort of devil.  The thing's eyes were blood red orbs, with no trace of a pupil, but still Khalid could feel its gaze sweep across them.  He shuddered under the weight of the devil's withering contempt as it assessed each one of them in turn.  Gorak and Shayla, like Khalid, were paralyzed with fear.  Gorak's lips had drawn back in a feral snarl and for all his imposing size, he looked nothing more than a cornered animal.  Shayla stood stock still, arched backwards slightly as though drawn up by the strings of a giant puppeteer.  Her head was turned slightly, as though she was trying to look away, but she could not free her eyes from the terrible sight before her.  Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides and her jaw was clenched.

Again the creatures gaze swept across them, and Khalid felt his knees go weak as the devil's power flooded the room.  Khalid could feel it, a thick and heavy miasma that coated his skin and seared his lungs.  Slowly the creature raised an immaculately manicured hand and Khalid clenched his teeth, frantically trying to think of some way to avoid the inevitable.  But the creature didn't cast them screaming into the depths of hell; he simply raised his hand and smoothed back a lock of his jet-black hair.  With a twisted sneer on his features, the devil gave a mocking little bow, and stepped casually over the shattered boundary of the summoning circle.  Without even a backward glance, the creature walked up the stairs.

Khalid breathed an enormous sigh of relief that turned into a choked gasp as the devil casually snapped his fingers on the way out of the room.  With a soundless flash, three small creatures appeared in the room beside them.  The monstrosities looked like tiny lumps of wax, twisted and misshapen, covered with a thick slime that pooled on the floor around them.  Cruel parodies of human faces swam within the blubbery mass of flesh, their features contorted with unspeakable agony.  Withered limbs tipped with three sharp claws slashed eagerly at the air around them, as the creatures rushed forward to attack.

Khalid gagged at the charnel smell that washed over him as the pitiful creatures slid towards him.  Shayla was the first to shake off the devil's fear and act, hurriedly casting a spell and flinging a handful of glowing discs at one of the little monstrosities.  Her eyes widened in horror as the spell slammed into the creature with no effect.  Scurrying backwards, she placed more distance between herself and their assailants.

Gorak leapt forward with a roar, and slammed his cudgel into one of the fleshly little creatures, sending it tumbling backwards.  It righted itself immediately however, and pressed forward, seemingly unhurt by the terrible blow.  "Khalid," Gorak yelled, "what in the nine hells are these things?"

Khalid's mind frantically raced over his lectures at the White Tower, trying to put a name to the creatures, but panic drove all rational thought from his mind.*  Deciding he had nothing to lose, he stepped forward and unleashed a torrent of flame and ash upon the little creatures.  Like Gorak and Shayla however, his attack had no effect save to draw attention to himself.  Khalid hurriedly backed away and heroically placed Gorak between himself and the three tiny devils.

"Ah, yes," Khalid stuttered, "ah, I believe they are the least of the devil-kin.  Yes, quite.  They, ah, appear to be immune to weapons and, ah, fire."

Shayla screamed as one of the little monstrosities slashed at her with its claws, drawing a line of blood on her leg.  Gorak too, bellowed in pain as the other two surrounded him and began to claw at his legs and stomach.  Again, Shayla unleashed a spell, this time hurling tiny lancets of glowing force and again there was no effect.  Gorak swung his cudgel in a defensive arc as he tried to keep the tiny devils from swarming him.

"Khalid," Gorak growled, "how do we hurt them?"

"Ah, yes," Khalid replied, "I'm not sure we can."

"Well you better think of something fast," Gorak snarled.

Khalid attempted to dodge away from the creatures, to give himself room to cast another spell and was rewarded with a stinging slash on his leg for his efforts.  Forcing the pain out of his mind, he dropped a short length of rope on the ground and uttered the words to his newly discovered spell.  As the rope rose into the air, Khalid called out, "Ah, perhaps now is a good time to ah, demonstrate the better part of valor, yes, quite."

Without hesitation, Shayla turned and scrambled up the rope, vanishing into the portal.  Gorak snarled again, and swatted ineffectually at the creatures surrounding him.  "Khalid," Gorak growled, "get outta here."

Khalid, never needing much in the way of encouragement when it came to self-preservation, clambered up the rope into the safety of his spell.  Gorak, taking several more wounds in the process, turned and followed him immediately after, drawing up the rope as he entered.  Through the transparent portal they could see the three small devils milling about in impotent fury below.

Gorak, breathing heavily, cast a healing spell to staunch the bleeding wounds on his legs.  When he finished, he turned on Shayla and Khalid.  "What the hell is wrong with you two," he snarled.  "We agreed we were gonna leave that thing alone."

Shayla, still shaken from the ordeal, said nothing so Khalid answered.  "Ah, it wasn't entirely, yes, entirely our fault Gorak.  That thing in there, the first one I mean, yes, the devil, cast some sort of spell upon us.  Yes, quite.  Surely, you must have felt it?"

Gorak grunted, "Maybe."  Then he took a deep breath, and got a hold of his emotions.  "Alright, so just what was that thing."

"Ah, I'm not exactly, yes, exactly sure," Khalid replied.**  "I cannot put a name to that particular devil, but I am quite sure he is powerful, possibly even one of the dukes of the nine hells.  Yes, quite."

"That's great," Gorak grumbled.  "So what do we tell Arbaq?"

"Ah, Arbaq?" Khalid looked surprised.  "Ah, nothing, nothing at all.  We tell him that we found the room as such, yes, with the tube smashed prior to our arrival.  Yes, quite."

"You think that's a good idea, lying to him?" Gorak growled.

"Ah, I don't think you fully, yes, fully grasp the enormity of what has happened here," Khalid continued with fear plainly evident in his tone.  "That thing is a devil, yes, and a powerful one at that.  It's going to wreak untold chaos and death upon this land before it is finished.  Yes, quite.  The fewer people that know we are responsible for unleashing that blight, yes, blight upon the land, the better."

Shayla was staring down at her hands in silence.  In each of her palms were four bloody crescents, where her fingernails had pierced her skin.  Gorak leaned over and took both of her hands in his, and uttered a few divine words.  Shayla winced slightly at his touch.  When he took his hands away, the marks on her palms were gone, but the fear still remained in her eyes.  "So what do we do now?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Ah, we wait, and hope the summoning ends before my spell does."  Khalid replied as he squinted out into the darkness.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"Ah, are they gone yet?" Khalid asked.

Gorak, who was peering out into the darkened workshop, growled, "I think so.  I'm gonna go check it out.  He pushed the rope out and dropped down through the portal.  Seconds later his head appeared in the extra-dimensional space again.  "It's clear.  Let's get outta here."

The trio hastily made their way back up the stairs, and out the same window they had entered.  The huge mastiff that Gorak had left in the back yard to guard their exit was curled up beneath some bushes, whimpering softly.  It took Gorak several minutes to coax the creature out from it's hiding spot.  Once he had, they set off in silence back to their inn.  

Even the bright afternoon sun did little to quiet their unrest as they pushed through the crowds of people.  Khalid desperately hoped that the devil would quit the city and return to its own plane, but he knew it was unlikely.  Unfettered, with no holy men or powerful wizards to banish it, the creature would have free reign.  Khalid shuddered as he walked through the press of people, wondering morbidly how many of them would die in the coming days.

Back at the inn, they quickly dispatched a messenger to Arbaq and settled in to wait.  After the morning's ordeal, they were edgy and tired, but no one seemed willing to be alone, and so they sat in the terraced garden, absently picking at the delicacies brought by the serving girls.  Slowly, the minutes lengthened into hours, and still there was no word from Arbaq.

They stayed up late that evening, still not wishing to be parted from each other's company.  Finally however, sleep drove them apart, and Khalid retired to his room to rest.  Sleep was a long time coming for him, as he expected it would be.  What he wasn't expecting were the dreams that haunted him.  Several times during the night, he woke up, drenched with sweat and a scream on his lips.

The morning sun found Khalid at his writing desk, poring over his notes and scrolls, having long since given up the prospect of sleep.  As he ventured down stairs to join Shayla and Gorak, it was evident that neither of them had slept particularly well either.  Again, they settled in to await Arbaq's summons.

It arrived finally, that evening as the three were half-heartedly picking at their dinner.  A man they recognized as one of the guards normally posted at the front gate of Arbaq's estate walked over to them and dropped a small scroll on their table.  He waited as Khalid picked it up and read it, then turned and left without a word.

_Meet me at the cleric's house after sunset this evening._
_- Arbaq_

"So?" Gorak grunted.

"Ah, Arbaq wants us to meet him at the clerics house." Khalid replied.

"Well, that's unexpected," Shayla commented.

"Ah, indeed, it is, ah, most out of character, yes?" Khalid said.  "Perhaps, we should, ah, be very, yes, very careful this evening."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," Gorak rumbled.

"All I'm saying is that, ah, given the circumstances of the last few days it would be prudent, yes, prudent to take every precaution."***

That decided, the three spent a few restless hours killing time, before leaving once again for the cleric's house.  As they approached the dwelling, they saw a guard lounging near the front door, which had been nearly torn from its hinges.  The guard waved them inside as they neared the house and said, "Arbaq's waiting for you downstairs."

As they entered the parlor of the house, they were forced to step over a man shaped lump wrapped in a thick rug.  Khalid grimaced at the fate of the previous investigator, and idly fingered his spell component pouch as they moved into the trophy room.  Taking a deep breath, he walked down the stone steps into the cleric's workshop, followed closely by Gorak and Shayla.

The room was once again the source of a surprise, as for the first time the trio saw Arbaq in the flesh.  He was tall, taller than Khalid, although his build was slim.  He was wearing a tight black jacket with a high collar and breeches, over a pair of soft black leather boots.  His onyx black hair was cut shoulder length and obscured his features as he studied something on one of the long benches lining the walls.  At the sound of their footsteps he turned around.  His skin, as Shayla had noticed so many weeks ago, was indeed as pure as alabaster, and his eyes, remarkably, were like blue sapphires, cold and piercing.  He studied the three of them carefully, before speaking in his cultured voice.  "Now, perhaps you would care to tell me what happened here."

"Ah, yes, well, we entered the house through the back window, yes quite.  Upon entering, we were beset upon by the ah, well, the furniture.  Yes, quite.  We covered a few more rooms that day, but the furniture was, ah, quite resilient, yes, quite and destroying it took a fair measure of our power.  We ah, left, and returned yesterday morning," Khalid said, realizing as he spoke how silly it sounded.

Arbaq however, saw no humor in it.  "Please continue," he said as he walked over to the wall near where Khalid had futilely cast his spell.  Running his finger along the wall, it came away, covered in soot.

"Ah, yes, well," Khalid stammered, trying to organize his thoughts.  "We ah, searched the trophy room next, and found the passage down here.  When we arrived, we found your friend, ah, well, pickled, yes, pickled in that tube over there.  The ah, staff was the source of the spell animating the objects in the house."

"And then you decided to attempt to free him?" Arbaq pressed.

"Ah, well, yes, in order to ah, break the enchantment, yes enchantment on the staff.  Yes, quite," Khalid replied his mind racing frantically.  "Ah, unfortunately, the ah, execution was poor and we inadvertently broke the summoning circle.  When that happened, three small devilkin appeared.  We ah, felt it wise to withdraw at that point, and inform you of our findings. Yes quite."

"Indeed."  Khalid could feel the skepticism in his tone.  "Those three small devils are all that you saw?"

"Yes, quite." Khalid replied as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"Did you perchance find a journal down here?  Achmed was a particularly methodical man and I am certain he would have kept a fairly detailed log of his experiments somewhere nearby," Arbaq asked pointedly.

Khalid, realizing that there was no chance of further subterfuge under Arbaq's unwavering gaze, produced the slim volume they had taken from the workshop the previous day.  Handing it over to Arbaq, Khalid sighed inwardly.  He'd had no desire to peruse the contents last night and now it appeared as though he wouldn't get the chance.

"Excellent.  You may take whatever other items you wish from here, as per our agreement.  You have once again performed…admirably.  I shall contact you shortly to discuss your next venture."  The hesitation was barely noticeable.

Gorak moved to gather up the cleric's cloak, staff and backpack.  The viscous green liquid had dried to a thick crust on the items that flaked off easily when Gorak picked them up.  Khalid moved over to the workbench on the far wall, and removed several potion bottles and a scroll case, which he then tucked into his voluminous belt.

As they walked back upstairs, more of Arbaq's men entered the house and moved past them, down into the basement.  The trio walked out of the house in silence and had traveled some distance away before Gorak exploded.  "Just what in the hell were you doing down there?" he demanded.  "I thought we agreed we weren't gonna tell him nothing."****

"Ah, yes, that was before, when I thought he was nothing but a rich merchant," Khalid snapped back.  "Did you ah, see the way he was looking around down there?  He knew we were lying.  Yes, quite.  And he knew, ah, damn well what was going on down there.  Nothing we said came as any surprise to him.  Ah, yes, believe me when I tell you there is, ah, far more to Arbaq than is readily apparent."

They walked in sullen silence back to the inn and went straight upstairs to Khalid's room.  There, away from any unwanted attention, they sat down to make plans.

"So what do we do now?" Shayla asked.

"Ah, I'm not certain.  Perhaps we should come clean, yes, clean to Arbaq, and tell him everything.  Yes, quite."  Khalid replied.

"It was your idea to lie to him in the first place," Gorak pointed out.

"Ah, yes, yes, I know," Khalid said wearily.  "I'll ah, take the blame.  I suggest this only because I believe that Arbaq is a lot more than a mere merchant."

"Well," Gorak grunted, "there's no point in doing anything tonight.  We'll send a runner in the morning."

At first light the next day, Gorak found a messenger and sent him off to Arbaq's estate to request an audience.  Khalid and Shayla ventured out into the markets to track down spell components that would allow Khalid to decipher the dweomer's surrounding the items they had taken from cleric's house.  Despite the events of the last two days, there were no outward signs that anything was wrong in the city.  Khalid still felt uneasy however, a feeling which persisted until he was safely locked in his room, the pilfered items arrayed before him.

That night, Khalid emerged from his room to find out that no reply had yet been received from Arbaq.  He entreated Gorak and Shayla to join him in his room and locked the door behind them when they entered.

"Ah, yes, I've spent the day identifying the various properties of the items we took from the cleric's house.  First, the staff is by far the most potent item, albeit completely useless to us.  In the hands of a holy man, it is capable of, as we surmised, animating objects within forty feet of the staff itself, which can then be commanded to attack.  Ah, next, the backpack is a particularly useful, yes, useful item.  It is magically enhanced to store far more than it appears, and never grows heavy.  Additionally, all you have to do is, ah, place your hand within, and think of the item that you want, and it will appear in your grasp.  Yes, quite.  And lastly," Khalid continued, "the cloak is fortified with magical protections which will add to your innate ability to overcome poisons and disease, as well as baneful, yes, baneful magical effects."

Shayla gave a low whistle.  "Not bad, not bad at all.  So, who gets what?"

"I want that cloak," Gorak growled, then realizing he wasn't back home in his tribal camp, he continued, "that is, if nobody else minds."

"Ah, hmm, well I don't particularly care," Khalid said.  "Why don't you take the ah, cloak, and Shayla can take the backpack.  We'll try to find a buyer for the staff, and then you two can ah, compensate me fairly from your share.  Yes, quite."

Gorak picked up the olive green cloak, and flung it over his shoulders.  It, not suprisingly, fit him perfectly.  "Huh," he grunted, "I thought it was gonna be too long.  The magic do that?"

"Ah, yes quite," Khalid replied.  "As for the potions, it is expensive, yes, quite expensive for me to identify them without a proper laboratory.  Perhaps we can find an alchemist who can, ah, do it more cheaply than I."  He handed the scrolls to Gorak.  "The scroll is of divine origin, which I cannot decipher."

Gorak studied the scroll intently for a few minutes, his brow furrowed in concentration.  "Healing spells.  Two of 'em, of moderate power.  I'll hang on to these, since you two can't use 'em."

That piece of business taken care of, the three settled in to wait for Arbaq's reply.  A day passed with no word, and then another.  Khalid began to get nervous as the third day passed with no word.  Gorak and Shayla too, were restless and edgy, eager to be doing anything but sitting at their inn, watching the hours roll past.  Finally, on the fifth day after they had sent their request, a small boy ran up to their table in the common room and said, "Master Arbaq wants to see you all, right away."

Pushing plates of half finished food away, the three stood up and walked out into the early morning sun.  They reached Arbaq's demesne in short order, and were admitted without delay.  The elderly chamberlain led them through the now familiar halls of Arbaq's mansion to his grand meeting hall.

Khalid was again disappointed, as the room was devoid of women this time as well.  Gone too were the silken screens which had hid Arbaq from them.  Instead, Arbaq was seated on a high-backed chair at the far end of the room.  He was dressed all in black once again, and sat with one leg crossed, leaning forward slightly, his elbow propped up on the armrest of the chair, and his chin cupped in the palm of his hand.  He watched them approach wordlessly, their footsteps echoing through the spacious hall.

When they had finally arrived before him, Arbaq spoke.  "Well, to what do I owe the honor of this visit."

"Ah, yes," Khalid began nervously, "I'm ah, afraid that we weren't quite honest with you, when we ah, described what transpired in Achmed's house.  Yes, quite."

"Indeed."  Arbaq replied flatly.

"Ah, yes, it was, ah, my idea, I'm afraid," Khalid continued.

"Well then, it is only you who shall lose his head over it." Arbaq said, no trace of emotion in his cultured voice.

"Ah, well, you see," Khalid stammered, tensing himself up for a hasty retreat.

Arbaq leaned back, "Relax, Khalid.  That was a joke."

"Ah, yes, quite amusing," Khalid muttered.  "In my, ah, defense, I had thought you nothing more than a common merchant.  Yes, quite."

"A reasonable, albeit false assumption.  Tell me now, exactly what happened."

Khalid told the story as it had actually occurred, with Shayla and Gorak filling in the details that he missed.  As Arbaq listened to the tale, his expression became grim.  When they had finished, he spoke quietly.  "That certainly explains a few things.  Now, before I tell you what I have learned, we must reach another understanding.  While you are working for me, I expect you to be completely honest with me."

"And you'll do the same for us?" Gorak rumbled.

"Indeed.  Now I will tell you what I know.  I have read Achmed's journal.  The creature that appeared before you was indeed a devil, named Vestalt, and a quite powerful one at that."

"Yes, quite," Khalid agreed.

Unperturbed by the interruption, Arbaq continued.  "Foremost among his portfolio is the sin of greed, which explains why a number of rather prominent merchants in the city have turned up dead in the last few days.  Just yesterday one of the merchant princes was beaten to death in broad daylight.  The night before that, one unfortunate fellow took a midnight stroll out a third story window, on to a rather pointy sundial."

"Ah, it would appear that he is, ah, working to consolidate his power quite quickly.  Yes, quite." Khalid remarked.

"Indeed.  The city it would seem, is no longer safe.  Pack your belongings, we leave for Gem-Sharad in the morning." Arbaq ordered.

"Ah, Arbaq, there is still that little matter I have to deal with in Gem-Sharad," Khalid said hesitantly.

"I have not forgotten Khalid, but you will be safe enough on my estate there, for a few days at least.  The next task I have for you three should take you out of the city anyhow, but we will discuss that when we reach Gem-Sharad."

The trio returned to their rooms and began to pack up their belongings.  Khalid took the opportunity to visit the baths one final time after dinner and fell asleep early, in anticipation of the long days ahead.

The next morning, they returned to Arbaq's estate before the break of dawn.  The compound was in a flurry of activity as servants made ready for the journey.  Khalid eyed the five heavily laden camels that were picketed in the courtyard somewhat suspiciously as a large man came over to greet them.

"I am Jalaal, caravan master for Arbaq ibn Asadel.  Blessings upon you, my friends," Jalaal greeted them as he bowed low.  He was tall, although not as tall as Khalid, and broad of shoulder although he lacked Gorak's thickness.  His bronze skin shone in the first rays of sunlight that broke the eastern horizon.  Like Gorak, he was wearing a vest that left his muscled chest bare, and a pair of billowing pantaloons tucked into calf-high riding boots.  His black hair was trimmed close, and his moustache was oiled into delicate curls at the tips.  A tiny arrowhead goatee graced his chin, and when he smiled, which seemed often, his white teeth gleamed in the sun.  Shayla eyed him up and down appreciatively, and Khalid disliked him instantly.

"I'm Gorak, this here's Khalid, and that's Shayla.  Good to meet ya." Gorak rumbled.

"Come, come, we are almost ready to leave.  You have ridden camels before, yes?"  Jalaal asked.  Getting no response, he continued, "Ah, well it is very much like riding a horse."  He paused.  "You have ridden horses before yes?"  Seeing nothing but blank stares, Jalaal smiled broadly.  "Ah, well then, you put your foot here, and simply hoist yourself up, like so."  He practically leapt into the saddle, and the huge beast rose to its feet.  "Simple, no?" he grinned down at them.

They had just finished receiving Jalaal's quick lesson on camel riding when Arbaq walked out of the main house.  It seemed unusual to see him in anything other than black, but today he wore a sand colored travelling robe.  He sported a broad brimmed hat, and his hands were covered, leading Khalid to believe that his aversion to sunlight had not been entirely a ruse.  He mounted the camel easily then paused to sign one more document before urging the beast to its feet.  Looking back over his shoulder he said, "Let's not waste any more time.  I am eager to be away from here."

They traveled without incident through the streets of Shalazar and reached the road to Gem-Sharad before midmorning.  As they traveled, Khalid found himself drawn into conversation with Jalaal.  Despite his initial reaction, he found it impossible not to like the man, who was always quick to share a laugh.  They traveled easily through the fields and vineyards surrounding Shalazar and by the time they stopped for siesta, had left the signs of civilization behind.

That night, they pitched camp shortly before sundown and Jalaal began to cook a savory stew, which improved Khalid's opinion of the man enormously.  As they sat around the campfire, enjoying the meal and chatting amiably, Khalid began to relax somewhat, letting the tensions of the last few days flow away.  Then suddenly, he leapt to his feet, his stew spilling on the desert sand as a sound reached his ears.

"Ah, is that what I think it is?" Khalid stammered, his eyes wide.

Shayla groaned as she rose to her feet.  Gorak too, stood up and stretched his neck from side to side, popping the vertebrae in his back.      "This," Gorak growled, "is getting to be a habit."

A long, low howl rent the still night air and was joined by a second, from somewhere behind them, towards Shalazar.  Khalid turned and looked at his two companions.  "Yes, quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​
*I've yet to make a planar knowledge check, even on simple stuff.

**And failure #2 on Knowledge [Planes]

***Heh, I was really worried that he knew what was going on, and was going to have us killed.  You develop that level of paranoia after playing in a few of Galeman's campaigns...

**** Heh, what actually happened here was that I made the plan, and then completely forgot about it 5 minutes later when we actually talked to Arbaq...I covered it well tho


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## pogre

Things with decent SRs are going to be pretty tough on this party eh?

Great update as usual!


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## EternalNewbie

pogre said:
			
		

> Things with decent SRs are going to be pretty tough on this party eh?




Yeah, it's a definite concern.  Shayla will probably have to take spell penetration at some point.  I'm focusing mainly on conjuration and utility spells, so it won't be that big of a deal for me.  I'm not really sure how higher level druids work out, having never seen one in action, but we're hoping that Gorak's shapechange and some buffs will make him a pretty good fighter if the need arises.   One of us (I won't spoil the surprise) is taking leadership at 6th too, in order to pick up a meatwall, so we should be a little more balanced in the future.

What really concerns me are energy immunities, especially as far as Shayla's spells go.  Galeman won't allow energy substitution sonic, which I don't necessarily disagree with (except for the little...well okay, big screaming munchkin in me).

Anyhow, just to let you know where we are currently in the campaign, Shayla has just hit 6th level, and I'm about 150 exp away.  Gorak, thanks to some spectacular bookkeeping, has managed to set himself back a few hundred exp, and needs another 800 or so I think. Heh, I can't chide him too much however, seeing as how at any given point I'm floating anywhere from a 4 skill point deficit to a 7 skill point surplus.  As Galeman pointed out, it's no wonder Khalid had so much trouble learning spells at the White Tower, given that he didn't have spellcraft for the first game session  (And yes, I have played a wizard before, to 14th level no less)

I do most of my writing on Saturday mornings by the way, so you can figure on a weekend update on a fairly consistent basis.  Stay tuned for next weeks installment...the nail biting thrill ride known as Chapter 3:  The Mines of Malakai.


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## The Axe

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> ...  I'm not really sure how higher level druids work out, having never seen one in action...
> 
> ...  Galeman won't allow energy substitution sonic, which I don't necessarily disagree with (except for the little...well okay, big screaming munchkin in me)...




You could take care of both of these in one fell swoop:  ever heard of Lady Despina's Virtue/The Heretic of Wyre/The Rape of Morne/Soneillon/The Mesallliance?  If not, it's compiled here:  
http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=58227 

Warning:  will lead to non-stop binge reading


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## Galeman

heh, funny you should mention that story hour the axe.  we both read and enjoy sepulchrave's story hour.  in fact, Mostin's penchant for sonically substituted boom spells is a big part of why i don't allow sonic substitution.  and, yes, the scene where nwm lays waste to that army is awe inspiring.  already gorak has become a difficult to deal with menace.


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## Bill Muench

And..... Bump.


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## TaranTheWanderer

and again, bump


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## The Axe

*Just a bump*

(Bump)


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## EternalNewbie

The Axe said:
			
		

> You could take care of both of these in one fell swoop: ever heard of Lady Despina's Virtue/The Heretic of Wyre/The Rape of Morne/Soneillon/The Mesallliance?




Yeah, I have read (and thoroughly enjoyed) that story hour.  What I should have said was I'm never seen Gorak play a high level druid, and I'm not sure how that's going to work out   . Heh.

[/whine on] Okay, so this is not an update, just a status report.  Things have gotten insanely busy for me lately including, but not limited to: working about 45+ hours a week, attending an 8 hour training course on saturdays and trying to study for the first of many professional exams I have coming up this year. [/whine off]

Added to that the fact is the mild case of writers block that I'm wading through.  Normally, when I start working on an update, before I even sit down to write, I fully develop three or four 'scenes' (usually fights or bits of dialogue) in my head.  Then I sit down and string them together.  Unfortunately, that just wasn't happening with the next section, which is basically a segue in the next big adventure.  Anyhow, the long and the short of it is that I don't know how regularly I'm going to be able to update for the next few months.  What's even worse is we haven't even been playing much.  However, for those three or four of you that are regular readers (at least I think there's three or four of you...maybe it's just my group posting under pseudonyms) don't have to worry, because I am going to keep writing, if only to keep Galeman, Shayla and Gorak from pestering me.


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## ledded

Dont sell yourself short, man, there are more than 3 or 4 of us out of the last 5 posts  .

Hey, I like your stuff, and I'll keep it subscribed so I can read whatever you can come up with, whenever you can get it out there.

Looking forward to the next installment.


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## Guillaume

Been lurking in this thread for a while.  I'm subscibed to it.  So, like ledded said, don't sell your self short.


Looking forward to your return.


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## pogre

Galeman,

Start docking XP my man - we need an update!


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## Galeman

good idea man.  the group's getting a little too confident with their abilities.  maybe it's time to send some level draining undeads at them.  just to stay within the rules and avoid the "rat bastard - dm" title.      but, just as an update, the game continues, though there was a break of about 2 weeks as work schedules and an impromptu visit to Vancouver, by me, ate in to some of our game time.  but we're back on track and the whole group is well on their way 7th level.      i try and i try, but they just won't die...


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## ledded

Galeman said:
			
		

> <snip> just to stay within the rules and avoid the "rat bastard - dm" title.  <snip>



Why would you want to *avoid* that title?  It is a badge of honor, sir!  

You haven't lived until you have...

1) sent an entire party of PC's (or what was left of them) fleeing for their life, crying and sniveling the whole time, or

2) done a plot twist of some sort that left them so stunned/messed up that on their turn they took the full round action of "sit here, stare dumbly for 6 seconds, and be messed up".


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## pogre

Bump for convenient updating!


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## pogre

bump, yoohoo anybody home?


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## EternalNewbie

ledded said:
			
		

> You haven't lived until you have...
> 
> 1) sent an entire party of PC's (or what was left of them) fleeing for their life, crying and sniveling the whole time, or




See, the thing is, this is the way most encounters go in Galeman's campaigns, but after a half dozen or so TPK's in various campaigns, I've learned to spend the first round planning my escape.  It's pretty much the only reason I'm playing a wizard in this game after having played one to 14th in another campaign...fighters just don't have as many options when it comes to departing the battlefield in ignoble disgrace... It's also why Khalid's personality is a bit different from what I normally play...this time, when I flee at the first sign of danger, I'm roleplaying 

It's been kind of slow around here, since Galeman has been working 3 to 11, and Shayla has been working 12-8 on most weekends, which is the only time I can really play, we haven't even played in about 3 weeks now, but hopefully we'll get a game in this weekend...

As for updates, uh, well I guess the good news is I'm about half done the next one, with the bad news being that I'm averaging less than a page a week....and since my updates are normally about 6 pages long...however, I will say that since Galeman has thus far been unsuccessful in killing us off, there's plenty more story left to be told and I do fully intend on telling it.


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## EternalNewbie

Well, it's been a long time in the works but I now have the pleasure to present to you the first part of Chapter 3.  It hasn't really been proofed by Gorak, Shayla or Galeman so there may be slight changes and some grammatical stuff I haven't caught.  This part is a setup to the actual adventure, which was one of the best I've ever played in.  It's funny, in terms of actual session time, this probably only took an hour or so to cover, and it took me like 2 months to write...

Now, without further ado:

CHAPTER 3: THE MINES OF MALAKAI

* * * * * * * *​
"Get ready," Gorak growled as he hastily strung his short bow.  "They're damn close."  Even as he spoke, the others were leaping into motion.  Jalaal drew an enormous two-handed scimitar with a single fluid motion, and Shayla grabbed for her crossbow.  Arbaq calmly stood up, dusted off his hands and moved over to his belongings where he pulled out a crossbow that made the one Shayla carried look like a child's toy.  Sliding one foot into the stirrup, he began to winch back the cable.

The hounds crested the southern dune, running hard.  Khalid squinted through the descending gloom and was struck with an eerie sense of déjà vu as the shadowy forms crossed the distance between them impossibly fast.  His eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the markings on the huge dogs.  "Ah, they're not natural," he cried, unnecessarily as it turned out.

Jalaal stepped forward to intercept the mastiffs, but before he could level a blow at the lead hound, it skidded to a halt and belched out a thick gout of flame.  The second mastiff raced past Jalaal and caught Shayla and Gorak by surprise, bathing them in flame as well.  They reeled backwards, coughing and smoldering, trying to gain their wits as the creature pressed its advantage.

Jalaal was the first to recover his composure and stepped forward to deliver a brutal slash with his scimitar.  The hound proved too nimble however, and dodged easily away from the blow.  Arbaq, having finished loading his crossbow, prudently removed himself from harms way and withdrew into the desert.  

Gorak, tossing his shortbow aside, drew out his cudgel and stepped forward to protect Shayla.  Even as the hound lunged for his throat, he swung his cudgel in a low arc, smashing the creature aside.  The blow only served to enrage the creature further however and was easily absorbed by its muscled hide.  Shayla, taking advantage of the protection offered by Gorak, drew back and cast forth a volley of glowing discs, slashing the creature twice.  Despite the failing light, Khalid could see thick rivulets of black blood course down the hound's side.

Seeing Jalaal hard pressed to defend himself against the hound's ferocious onslaught, Khalid quickly ran through his prepared spells, realizing with dismay that few, if any would be helpful against the infernal servants of the devil Vestalt.   Selecting one of his most powerful spells, a recent addition to his repertoire, Khalid began to chant.  As the last arcane syllable rolled off his tongue, a tiny pinpoint of light arced from his hand, and exploded with a soundless detonation above the hellhound.  A shimmering rain of golden dust cascaded down over the area, coating the hound completely. Glittering motes of light clung to the beasts fur and swirled around its head.  It sneezed once, then fixed its eyes on Khalid.  There was no mistaking the malevolent intelligence behind that stare and the undiluted evil that directed the hounds will.  With mounting fear, Khalid realized that his spell had been only partially successful.  He turned to flee and then shrieked in pain as the hound leapt past Jalaal, taking a slash from his blade, and sank its fangs deep into Khalid's skinny shank.

Gorak and Shayla however, were faring better.  They had found a rhythm, with Gorak edging the creature away from Shayla and punishing it his cudgel while Shayla cast spell after spell, slashing the creature's thick hide.  Unrelenting, the hellhound ignored its wounds and lunged repeatedly at Gorak.  The smell of burning flesh filled the air as its jaws tore into Gorak who returned the wound with a backhanded blow.

Jalaal advanced again, trying to draw the mastiff away from Khalid, but it's thick hide turned his blade.  Khalid, driven by fear, ignored the searing pain in his leg and fled out into the desert.  As he drew away from the hound, Arbaq loosed a bolt that went whizzing past his head but flew wide of the glittering hellhound as well.  Unperturbed he set his crossbow down and began to winch back the cable again.

Again and again Gorak brought his heavy cudgel down upon the infernal mastiff, until finally it could stand no more.  Even as it turned to flee into the desert, Shayla began to chant.  Before it had made it more than dozen yards, twin lancets of force leapt from her hand and pierced the creature's thick hide.  With a strangled yelp, it dropped lifeless to the ground.  The other hound, possessed of intelligence greater than its courage, fled howling into the desert night. 

Panting heavily, Khalid limped back towards the camp, trailed by Arbaq.  Gorak began to tend to the wounds and burns inflicted by the hounds.  Jalaal gritted his teeth as Gorak probed a deep bite on his arm, then gasped as Gorak's healing magic took effect.  "Gods above, that hurt worse than the bite," he said somewhat shakily.  Gorak simply grinned and rubbed the wound.  Charred flesh fell away revealing fresh skin beneath.  

"C'mere Khalid.  It's your turn."  Gorak growled.
Khalid who had been watching the proceedings with some trepidation replied, "Ah, no, that's quite, yes, quite alright.  I'll be fine."  He'd seen the effects of Gorak's healing magic too many times.

"C'mon, it'll only hurt for a second.  It's a long ride to Gem-Sharad."

With a heavy sigh, Khalid walked over to Gorak.  As he turned around, Shayla began to giggle.  "Yes, I'm glad you find my injury amusing," he snapped.

"It's not that, it's…" she couldn't continue.

Khalid looked over his shoulder and cried out, "My robes!"  The entire back had burned away from the hellhounds smoldering bite, revealing his loincloth.  At that moment Gorak reached out and grabbed Khalid's leg.  The ensuing shriek that rent the desert night echoed off the walls of Shalazar.

* * * * * * * * *​
The remainder of the trip to Gem-Sharad passed without incident. By about the midpoint of the journey, Khalid had stopped worrying about the mess they'd left in Shalazar, and began to worry about the mess he was returning to in Gem-Sharad.  Despite Arbaq's assurance that he would be safe within his walled compound, the feeling of unease continued to grow.  On the eighth day, when the city of Gem-Sharad coalesced like a shimmering mirage from the sweltering heat of the desert, Khalid's eyes were immediately drawn to the White Tower.  It rose from the center of the city, past the graceful spires of the sultan's palace, like a great ivory tooth scratching at the belly of heaven.  As they passed through the shantytown that surrounded the city proper, Khalid drew the end of his turban up around his face.  He knew deep down that it was ludicrous to think that among the thousands of people that passed through the gates of Gem-Sharad, he would be noticed by one of Halaal's men.  Nevertheless, he felt as though the eyes of everyone in the street were upon him.  Silently he cursed the press of people that crowded around their camels and impeded their progress towards the safety of Arbaq's estate.

In due time, they passed into the city itself and some hours later, emerged on the northwest side before Arbaq's massive estate.  If anything, it was larger and even more opulent than his holdings in Shalazar.  When Khalid commented on this, Arbaq merely shrugged and replied something about a bigger pond and larger bait.  Khalid was relieved to see that security here was no less imposing than it had been in Shalazar.  Armed guards patrolled the compound and seemed to possess none of the indolence Khalid associated with the breed.  They seemed surprised at Arbaq's arrival he noted, but given the circumstances of their departure, that was not entirely unexpected.  Word of their arrival spread quickly through the estate, like ripples in a pond, and soon the entire compound was bustling with activity.

As they dismounted from the camels, several well-dressed men bearing sheaves of paper approached and bowed respectfully before Arbaq.  With his characteristic stoicism, Arbaq betrayed no hint of weariness or annoyance as his took the proffered documents.  As he walked towards the main building with Jalaal in tow, he called back over his shoulder, "You will have to forgive me, my friends, but I must attend to my affairs.  Rooms have been prepared for you, and you have the run of the estate.  Take your ease for a time, and then join me for dinner."

Khalid watched him depart, a studious look on his face.  Despite having fought, well not exactly beside the man but close enough, and having traveled with him for over a week, he had learned very little about Arbaq.  He was witty and urbane, charming to a fault, undeniably intelligent and still a complete mystery to Khalid.  He had avoided all questions about his past or motivations with casual ease, and somehow managed to make even the threat of assassination by a planar monstrosity seem a mere inconvenience.  Khalid realized with a start that he was standing alone in the courtyard.  Hurriedly pulling his pack down from the back of his camel, he glared at the ignorant beast one final time and then caught up with Gorak and Shayla as they approached the main house.  Unlike Shalazar, Arbaq's mansion here was only a single story, but was easily twice as large.

As the three wandered through the halls of the mansion, they were once again struck with the sheer magnitude of Arbaq's wealth.  Their footsteps echoed on the marble floors as they walked past countless sitting rooms and dining halls.  Everywhere, the trappings of wealth surrounded them in tasteful understatement.  Arbaq had managed to blend the diverse cultures of the East and West together seamlessly in his home.  Rich tapestries and scrollwork from the east complimented open western architecture.  As Gorak and Shayla walked ahead, Khalid lingered and examined a particularly eye catching depiction of a line of charging knights crashing through a mass of pikemen.  He shuddered to think of the weight of the ponderous armor and the devastating force behind the charge, then quickened his pace to rejoin the others.

A helpful servant directed them through the maze of hallways to their quarters.  Gorak took one look at the opulent surroundings, the plush divans and four poster bed and with a disgusted snort tossed his pack out the window.   Placing one hand on the frame he leapt through after it, into a large terraced garden.  Kicking his pack under a hedge, he began to prowl around and examine the various exotic floras.  

As Khalid moved on to his room, he heard Shayla sigh in rapturous delight as she flopped down on her bed.  Khalid found his room to be no less luxurious than the others. With a critical gaze around, Khalid made himself right at home, and began to rearrange the furniture to his liking, enlisting several passing servants to aid him in his efforts.  Finally satisfied, he dismissed the servants and headed down to the baths.  He was pleasantly surprised to discover that Arbaq spared himself no comfort, and promptly made himself at home there as well.  Clean and somewhat exhausted, Khalid returned to his room and slept until a servant summoned him to dinner.

Arbaq had an enormous feast prepared for them that evening.  A table that would have easily seated two dozen people was prepared for them alone, laden with delicacies from every corner of the world.  Arbaq himself was not present, but sent word that they were to begin without him, and that he would join them shortly.  Khalid, never one to pass on a free meal, was already sampling the food closest at hand.  Despite being unable to identify most of the dishes on the table, Khalid made a point of sampling each one, stopping only briefly to when he came across an infernally spiced rice dish.  Quaffing two glasses of wine in rapid succession, he mopped the sweat from his bow and looked up to find that Arbaq had joined them, and was watching him with a faint air of amusement.

Having traveled with Arbaq for more than a week, the atmosphere was more relaxed now, and although still somewhat reserved, Arbaq frequently enjoined in the banter that flew easily between the three friends.  After a particularly insulting exchange between Gorak and Shayla, he threw back his head and laughed heartily.  Khalid, in the process of draining the last few drops from the bottom of his glass, caught a glimpse of something a little odd, something he hadn't noticed before.  Keeping his suspicions to himself, he mulled it over in his head as he ate, wondering if his eyes had deceived him.  Finally, having completed his mission of trying everything on the table including, to his embarrassment, what was evidently a decorative centerpiece, Khalid pushed his plate away with a heavy groan and poured himself another glass of wine.  The candles were burning low, and Khalid realized that it was well past sunset.

Arbaq, who had been discussing the means of caring for several types of eastern plants he kept in his garden with Gorak, stood up.  "Ah, it certainly has been an enjoyable evening my friends but I must excuse myself.  I have an early appointment in the morning.  Shayla, if you would care to join me, I find a brief walk around the garden before retiring to sublimely relaxing."  He offered her his hand.

Shayla took it, and rose from her chair.  "That would be delightful," she replied, leveling a devastating smile at him.

Gorak and Khalid watched them leave the room in silence.  Then Gorak grunted, "What was that all about?"

Khalid shrugged, "Ah, I should think that's quite obvious. Yes, quite."

Gorak snorted in amusement. "Bah, what's he got that I don't have?" he growled jokingly.

"Ah, it's not so much what he has, but, ah, what he doesn't," Khalid replied.

Gorak raised an eyebrow inquiringly, "Yeah, what's that?"

"Ah, a powerful odor of camel, for one thing." Khalid said with a smirk.

Gorak roared with laughter, "Maybe I should visit the baths."

"Yes, quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​
Over the next several days, Khalid proved himself to be the worst sort of guest.  He consumed vast quantities of expensive spirits and exotic foods.  He lorded over the servants as if they were his own, and when he wasn't pouring over his spell book, he was in the harem or the baths.  He dined frequently with Gorak, but rarely saw Shayla, who he presumed, was spending most of her time with Arbaq.  Khalid was somewhat surprised when he heard a slight knock at his door.  He had just sat down with a book pilfered from Arbaq's library, and a bottle of wine pilfered from his cellar.  He put his book down and went to the door.  He found Shayla outside, with a worried frown on her face.

"Ah, Shayla, what a pleasant surprise, yes, quite.  What, ah, brings you here at this hour?"

"I'm sorry Khalid, I know it's late." Shayla apologized as she walked into his room.

"Ah, yes, well it's no bother.  What's troubling you?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you something."  She said hesitantly.

"Ah, well, yes, ah I can't answer it until you ask," Khalid said gently.

Biting her lip, Shayla said softly, "Have you ever heard of the Mirror of Mazgarat?"

Wracking his brain, Khalid tried to recall any wizards he'd read about named Mazgarat, and the names of the more powerful scrying devices.  He thought for a bit, but while the name sounded familiar, he couldn't recall anything specific.  He sighed, "I'm, ah, sorry, yes quite sorry, Shayla, but I've never heard of it."*

She looked crestfallen.  "Oh, well that's okay, I just hoped you could tell me something about it."

"It is, ah, some sort of scrying device, yes?"

Shayla nodded, "Arbaq used it to show me things."

"Ah, yes, well mirrors and the like are usually, yes, usually the focus for such magicks."  He looked at her curiously, "Ah, if I may be so bold, what did he show you?"

She was obviously reluctant to talk about it.  "He showed me…things about my past, about who I am."

Khalid's suspicions were confirmed, and he said quietly, "Arbaq, he's not, ah, not quite human is he?"

Shayla shook her head.  "Not entirely, no.  He's like me."  She brushed back her hair absently, revealing her slightly upswept ears.

"Ah, yes.  I suspected as much.  I'm ah, sorry, yes, quite sorry I can't tell you more about whatever that device, that Mirror of Mazgarat, is.  But I will caution, yes, caution you that items of particular power, when used by those who are not trained, can be ah, shall we say, unpredictable.  Yes, quite.  Until we learn more about it, consider very carefully whatever he shows you with it."

"I think…I'm almost certain that he believes what he's showing me is the truth." Shayla replied.

"Indeed.  Ah, he may not be deliberately misleading you, but that doesn't mean he can control, yes, control the device properly."

Shayla nodded, then impulsively hugged him.  "Thanks Khalid.  I'll let you get back to your studying."  She paused. "What are you reading now?" she asked curiously.

"Ah, it's nothing," Khalid made a hasty grab for the book but Shayla snatched it away from him. 

 "The Seven Wives of Al'Afif."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Wasn't this book banned by edict of the Sultan?"

Khalid flushed, "Ah, yes, well it's a fascinating insight into the Sultan's court."

"And the fact that Al'Afif's wives were notorious harlots has nothing to do with it?"

"Ah, no, certainly not," Khalid replied indignantly.

Shayla laughed and tossed the book back to him, "Good night, Khalid."

* * * * * * * * *​
Three more days passed before the trio was summoned to Arbaq's office.  Arbaq was sitting behind an enormous desk that was half buried beneath reams of papers and scrolls.  The room itself was utilitarian, devoid of any adornment or artistry.  An enormous bookshelf lined one wall and Khalid itched to browse through the titles.  Opposite the bookshelf hung maps of every sort, some quite recently made and some, by their appearance, quite ancient.  Jalaal was there as well, conferring with Arbaq over a scroll.  As they approached the desk, Arbaq looked up.   "Welcome my friends.  I trust that you have enjoyed your stay thus far."  He looked rather pointedly at Khalid.

"Ah, yes, quite," Khalid stammered, then quickly changed the subject.  "Ah, I assume that you have, ah, sorted out the details of the task you alluded to when we arrived in Gem-Sharad?"

"Indeed.  I need you complete a…transaction for me.  A rival merchant has a virtual monopoly on a particular commodity I urgently require.  You are to, shall we say, negotiate on my behalf."

"Negotiate?" Gorak grunted.  "Like we negotiated that guy in Shalazar right?"

"Ah, yes," Arbaq nodded, "indeed.  However, this time the negotiations are likely to be a bit more…intense.  This merchant is quite a bit wealthier, and has a particular dislike for me."

Gorak grinned and slowly clenched his hands into fists, cracking each knuckle with an audible pop.  "That ain't likely to improve after he meets us.  Who is he?"

"His name," Arbaq replied, "is Malakai."

* * * * * * * * *​
*I've come to realize that Khalid doesn't know squat.  This is yet another example of a horrible knowledge check.


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## MetalSlime

*Great Story!*

Just wanted to pop in to inform you that you have a new reader!  I really love the story!  It's hilarious!  

It's good to know that I'm not the only person to have played a cowardly wizard who hides from battles in a Rope Trick.    Unfortunately my poor wizard, affectionately known as Joam the Gnome (with familiar Jat the Rat), was  knicked with a Sword of Wounding during such an escape up his rope at 7th level. He promptly bled to death in his extra-dimensional pocket, rope in hand.  Let's pray this doesn't happen to Khalid.

Anyway, keep up the good writing!  Your fan-base is growing


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## Bill Muench

Great update, thanks! I thought the writing was particularly good in this one. Good use of subtlety in a few places.


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## pogre

Thanks for the update!


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## TaranTheWanderer

Hey, this is Gorak here.  I thought EternalNewbie needed a bump and I've decided to let readers know that the plot gets really good from here on in.  Some of my favorite game sessions are coming up!  Much to Galemans chagrin, we're cruising along in levels. Combat is getting really interesting as well. Since tax season is almost over, hopefully EternalNewbie will get some free time soon to write another post. - Not before he does my taxes, of course   -


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## Black Bard

I must say you really got me hooked!!
I was looking for some inspiration for an "Arabian Nights" campaign on the boards and just found this thread... An amazing reading experience!!
Congratulations!!

Now I'll just join the chorus and demand a new post...


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## Guillaume

> Now I'll just join the chorus and demand a new post...



[music] Another pooooost ! Please anoooother pooost ![/music]


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## Black Bard

Guillaume said:
			
		

> [music] Another pooooost ! Please anoooother pooost ![/music]



Guillaume, you are a far better bard than I am...
Such great lyrics!!!


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## AIM-54

Just want to chime in and say great job EternalNewbie!  Well written and exciting to read.  Always wanted to run a desert setting...


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## Guillaume

Black Bard said:
			
		

> Guillaume, you are a far better bard than I am...
> Such great lyrics!!!



Thank you ! I'll follow-up with a rendition of _Reading Your Posts are a Sinfull Pleasure _!


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## pogre

bump


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## Galeman

well since eternalnewbie hasn't posted in a while i thought i'd give you all a little update.  things are advancing rather too well for the pc's in my personal opinion.  they continue to live despite my best efforts, so don't fear that the story hour will just be dropped.  though i do think that you should all get on the newb to post some more.  he no longer has the excuse of a heavy work schedule.  i'm sure my rent will be going up for this


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## EternalNewbie

Galeman said:
			
		

> i'm sure my rent will be going up for this




Yes.  Yes it will.  I think it's time to reintroduce the appliance levy and the bathroom tax.

Anyhow, thanks to all of those who have posted, it's nice to see that people are enjoying reading about our game because we're sure enjoying playing it.  Shayla however, is currently in England/Europe for the next month, so the game is on hold for a while.  It's quite possible that withdrawl will encourage me to be a little more timely with the next update, but I make no promises...

* * * * * * * * * *​
"Ah, yes," Khalid interrupted.  "I'm sure, yes, quite sure that I don't need to remind you that I can't be seen in public here in Gem-Sharad."

	"Not to worry, my friend," Arbaq replied.  "Malakai's operations are to the east, a week and a half through the desert, in the foothills of the mountains.

	Khalid sighed.  He didn't know which was more depressing: the prospect of another grueling trek through the desert or the fact that it seemed like a better alternative than staying in Gem-Sharad.

	"Right," Gorak grunted.  "So how do we find this guy, and what are we gonna steal."

	Arbaq smiled slightly.  "Straight to the point, as always, Gorak.  Very well then.  Malakai has reopened an old abandoned mine in the eastern mountains.  He has amassed a small fortune refining a particular ore found only in that mountain range, and perhaps only in that single location.  Despite my best efforts, I can find no other supplier of this particular metal."

	Khalid arched an eyebrow.  "Ah, what exactly is it?"

	"Adamantine."  Arbaq paused for a second, but seeing only blank stares, continued.  "Unprocessed, it's a dull grey colour, but once refined it turns black, like obsidian.  It's also incredibly hard, and as I mentioned, unbelievably rare."

	"So Malakai won't sell it to you?" Shayla asked.

	Arbaq shook his head.  "Unfortunately, I have run afoul of Malakai before.  He is very particular about who he deals with, and has so far been able to sniff out my agents with disturbing ease."

	"Alright," Gorak growled, "so we boost it then.  What are we up against?"

	"Malakai has employed a tribe of goblins to provide the manpower and security for his operations." Arbaq replied.

	"Goblins?" Gorak grunted.  "That sounds unreliable."

	"Under normal circumstances, perhaps, but Malakai is himself a goblin, and this tribe seems to have a peculiar sense of loyalty to him.  The fact that he's making them fabulously wealthy probably has something to do with it."

	"Yes, quite." Khalid smirked.

	"I need only a single ingot, and will pay two thousand sultanas for it.  If you manage to obtain more, I will purchase those as well.  If you are unable to obtain the refined metal, the ore will suffice, but I will need a significantly larger quantity of it."

	"How much more?" Shayla asked.

	"Eighty pounds, at least."

	"Well, it won't be a problem carrying it, if it comes to that." Shayla patted the backpack they had taken from the cleric's house.  But there's still the little matter of how we're going to get it."

	"Wait nearby in the desert," Gorak rumbled.  "Watch for a shipment, track it down and take what we need."

	"That might work," Arbaq agreed, but his skepticism was evident.  "But this particular metal, while valuable, is not in high demand.  You could find yourself waiting weeks before a delivery is made and face several dozen goblins.

	"Goblins," Gorak snorted, "we've dealt with worse."

	"Do not underestimate them," Arbaq cautioned.  "This tribe has a particularly nasty reputation.  Couple that with Malakai's wealth and resources, and you've a formidable opponent.  Besides shipments are likely to be no more than a single ingot or two, and the carrier will be difficult to identify."

	"Alright then," Gorak growled, his temper wearing thin.  "You've obviously got a better idea.  Let's have it."

	"Indeed."  Arbaq replied.  "There is perhaps a better way."

	Jalaal, who had been watching the proceedings in silence, spoke up.  "I have spent a fair bit of time, exploring the mountain pass between the East and West, for various reasons." He glanced at Arbaq, who motioned him to continue.  "Well, it would seem my friends, that there may be another way into Malakai's mining complex.  Some time ago, I noticed a small crevice, about a mile into the pass.  It is difficult to get to, but I have some experience in these things and I believe that we can all reach it safely."

	"Ah, yes, but what makes you think that this fissure leads, yes, leads to Malakai's mine?"  Khalid asked.

	"I took the liberty of doing some scouting, and I can assure you my friends, that behind the opening is a cave, which delves deep into the mountain."  Jalaal continued.  "I found evidence of worked stone deep within."

	"I have researched the area fully," Arbaq interjected, "and I have no reason to believe that there are or were any other mining operations in the vicinity.  It is my opinion that this is the best option available to you.  With a little luck, you can sneak in, obtain the ore and leave the same way."

	"Ah, perhaps my knowledge of current events is somewhat, yes, lacking, but isn't the mountain pass full of soldiers?" Khalid asked.

	Arbaq dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.  "The pass is indeed blocked, but the fortifications are much further into the mountains, close to the Eastern city of Draknor.  It is possible that there will be patrols, but you will not have to venture far into the mountains.  I am confident you will be able to avoid them."

	Khalid dubiously nodded his agreement as the conversation turned to more mundane matters.  Khalid's attention wandered as the group discussed the supplies and equipment that would be required.  Mentally running through the spells in his repertoire, Khalid began to formulate a list of the scrolls he would need to make in the next few days.  He was shaken from his reverie however, when Gorak spoke up.

	"Fine, so we've got camels to get us there.  But how we gonna get back?" he rumbled.  "We could come outta that place with a tribe of goblins hot on our trail."

	"Indeed," Arbaq agreed.  "However, there is little I can suggest except to picket your camels nearby and hope they still remain when you return."

	Gorak grunted in annoyance. "The terrain around there is pretty unforgiving, from what I've heard.  Camels will probably pull free and leave.  If we tie em down good, and we're in there too long, they'll be too weak to run.  That's if they ain't found by whatever patrols come outta the pass."

	At this point, Khalid spoke up.  "Ah, yes, I may have a spell that will help."

	Shayla raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward.  "Really?"

	"Ah, I have the means to summon horses, yes, horses.  One for each of us, if the need arises."

	Shayla slumped back in her chair.  "How pedestrian," she remarked, obviously disappointed.

"But what if something happens to you, or we have to leave in a hurry and you ain't ready?" Gorak grumbled.

	Khalid fought down the little surge of panic that accompanied Gorak's all to reasonable question. "Yes, well I will create a scroll and instruct Shayla on its use.  That way we will be sure to have the means for a hasty escape close, yes, close at hand.  Yes, quite."

	The conversation continued for a while longer, with Gorak, Arbaq and Jalaal compiling a list of gear and supplies.  Khalid threw out an estimate of the sultanas he would need to create scrolls, and Gorak doubled it.  Arbaq nodded and said, "Jalaal will acquire whatever it is that you may need.  I will remain in Gem-Sharad for the next several weeks, but I may not always be available.  If you have anything you need to discuss with me directly, I will endeavor to meet with you as soon as possible."

	As the meeting dissolved, Arbaq returned to his ledgers, while Jalaal left to gather the items on their rather lengthy list of supplies.  Gorak, Shayla and Khalid returned to their rooms to attend to their own preparations.  

* * * * * * * * * *​
	The days passed quickly for Khalid as he labored to craft as many scrolls as possible before they departed.  His fingers stained with ink and his back aching from hours bent over his desk, Khalid stretched and considered his handiwork.   The sheet of vellum he had been working on was now bordered with a line of runes that transformed the page into a receptacle capable of storing his magical energy.  All that was left to do was inscribe the first rune of the three spells he would be binding to the scroll.  He picked up a tiny silver knife and gritted his teeth.  This was the part that he hated about making scrolls.  Glancing down at his left hand, crisscrossed with a number of tiny cuts, Khalid sighed and decided it was time for a break.  Placing the knife back on the desk, he stood slowly, groaning as the muscles in his back protested.

Khalid briefly considered tracking down Shayla but then decided against it.  She'd been cooped up in Arbaq's palace for three days now with nothing to do, and wasn't likely to be in the best of moods.  Instead, he decided to seek out Gorak, and discuss their eventual departure.  Khalid wandered out into the garden, and was immediately struck with an unpleasant odor.  Following the scent back to its source, he found Gorak sitting cross-legged in front of a simmering cauldron of brownish ooze.  Muttering to himself in orcish, Gorak grabbed a handful of something that looked suspiciously like mud and dropped into the pot, which began to bubble furiously.  Glancing up and seeing Khalid standing there, Gorak grunted a brief greeting while he stirred the mixture.

	"Ah, by the lost gods," Khalid gagged as a shift in the wind blew the smoke from the cauldron directly into his face, "please tell me that's an unguent. Yes, quite."

	"No such luck," Gorak growled with a smirk as he ladled the steaming mixture into a vial.

	"Ah, well then could you at least strain out the, ah, lumps?" Khalid asked plaintively.

	"Nah, they're the best part."  Gorak corked the bottle and tossed it to Khalid.  "Now what's so important that it dragged you away from your desk?"

	"Ah, nothing really, I just wanted to see how you are progressing, yes, progressing." Khalid replied.
	"Well enough," Gorak grunted.  "Three more days and I should be finished everything.  Anything after that is a bonus."

	"Indeed.  Perhaps we should leave on the morning of the forth day then, that will give me time to finish my scrolls and instruct Shayla in their use."

	"Good luck with that," Gorak rumbled with a grin.

	Remembering the last time that he had attempted to instruct Shayla in the use of a scroll, he glanced down at his wounded hand and sighed. "Ah, perhaps I'll finish up the scroll I'm working on first."

* * * * * * * * * *​
	Khalid sighed and shifted slightly in his saddle.  The discomfort from four days under the relentless desert sun was matched only by the tedium of the surroundings.  He drew out his waterskin and took a long pull of fresh, albeit warm, water.  Gorak and Jalaal were conferring up ahead, discussing the route to the next oasis, a subject upon which Khalid had little to offer.  He only hoped it was more tranquil than the last one.  Yesterday afternoon they had approached an oasis to water the camels and rest for a bit, when they were set upon by a tribe of bedouin raiders.  The encounter still rankled Khalid.  The lizardmen had snuck up on them unawares and surrounded them from the dune tops with bows drawn. Gorak's bravado had brought the ransom down from everything they were carrying to two sultanas each. Although it cost them nothing more than a few pieces of Arbaq's gold, it still left a foul taste in Khalid's mouth.  He detested being bullied and would have almost preferred to run the thugs off, howling into the desert.  Almost.  They did have bows after all.

	A decision was apparently reached between Gorak and Jalaal, and the group changed direction slightly and began to follow a ridge of weathered stone that rose out of the desert sand.  Hours passed, and the miles fell away beneath the hooves of their camels.  Eventually the ridge sunk once more beneath the sand, leaving the group amidst a sea of rolling dunes.  Jalaal appeared confident however, and led them onwards towards the jagged peaks of the mountains.

	It was almost dusk by the time they reached the oasis.  The sun was a huge red orb settling on to the western horizon when they glimpsed the first palm tree.  The oasis was little more than a tepid pool surrounded by stunted trees and scrub brush; a smudge of green upon the brown wasteland of the desert.  Khalid sighed and longed for the baths at Arbaq's estate as he dismounted and led his camel over to the water.  Shayla too evidently missed the comforts of Arbaq's, Khalid mused, judging from the stream of muttered curses as she knelt down in the muddy sand to splash water on her face.

	Suddenly, Jalaal shouted a warning and Khalid spun around.  Lumbering towards him was a creature he recognized all too well from the great arena of Gem-Sharad.  The ogre was almost nine feet tall, with sand colored skin and greasy black hair.  Its shoulders were so heavily muscled as to be almost deformed, and its arms were grotesquely long. The expression on its face was one of mindless rage and trailing behind it, clutched in a massive hand, was the shattered remnants of a palm tree.  Khalid realized with horror that there was nothing between him and the charging beast but a few meters of sand.

	Fortunately for Khalid, that was enough for Gorak.  With a bellowing shout, Gorak threw his arms out and the sand erupted into a surging morass around the creature.  The ogre immediately sank to its waist in the rolling sand.  Enraged but not completely snared, the ogre continued to drag itself forward towards Khalid.

	Jalaal and Shayla took advantage of the delay, with Jalaal drawing his bow and sinking an arrow deep into the creature's chest.  Shayla, with a casual flip of her hand tossed a handful of glowing disks at the creature, drawing lines of blood on the ogre's forearms as it flailed about trying to protect its face.

	Khalid, recovering from his initial shock, turned and leapt over Sousee, who had slithered forward at Gorak's command.  After removing himself to a somewhat safer locale, he began to chant quickly.  Arcane words rippled off his tongue and he began to gather his strength for a summoning.

Gorak drew his bow and joined Jalaal in firing arrows at the enraged beast.  The ogre had almost struggled free of Gorak's spell, and had one foot planted on firm ground when Sousee lashed out and bit him behind the knee.  With a roar the creature brought it's club crashing down on Sousee, pounding the snake into the ground and raising a huge cloud of sand.  It could only stare stupidly however, as the enormous snake slithered away, somewhat tenderized but relatively unhurt.*  The brief delay however, proved fatal to the beast, as Gorak's spell seized it and dragged it down almost to its chest in the sand.   

Shayla flung two glowing orbs of force that ricocheted off the creature's skull with thunderous reports.  As the beast reeled back in confusion, Khalid finished his spell.  Behind the ogre, a shadowy mist coalesced into the form of a mastiff, which immediately lunged forward and bit the ogre just below the armpit.  A huge fountain of blood gushed forth and stained the desert sand, as the ogre's roars of anger became shrieks of pain.  Then, abruptly, the desert was silent again as Jalaal buried an arrow to its fletching in the ogre's neck.  So deeply mired in Gorak's spell was the beast that it didn't even topple forward, it simply sagged slightly as the desert reached up to consume it.

Khalid, still breathing heavily from the excitement, raised his hand and dismissed his summoned hound, which had become helplessly trapped in Gorak's spell.  Looking around, he asked, "Ah, yes, where did that thing come from?"

"Behind that dune over there," Jalaal pointed to the south.  "My friend, if I hadn't been getting something from my pack, it would have been on top of us before we could react."

"Looks like it hunts this area," Gorak rumbled.  "I'd say that's where it got its club."  He gestured at the stump of a palm tree near the oasis.  "Should be fairly quiet around here now."

"Ah, lets hope so," Khalid said.  "This is supposed to be the easy part.  Yes quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​
	The rest of the journey to the mountains was uneventful.  The party traveled as they had before, racing through the desert on Arbaq's camels during the day, and safe within the confines of Khalid's extradimensional space at night.  On the thirteenth day, the desert had given way to foothills and scrub grasses replaced the sand.  Gorak had managed to find a small stream coming down from the mountains, and they had decided to picket their camels and continue on foot.  This close to the mountain pass, there was an actual path through the hills, worn down by the passage of countless merchant trains.  However, with the advent of the war, trade ceased and the wild had begun to reclaim the area.

Lost as he was in admiring the change of scenery, Khalid stumbled into Jalaal who had stopped walking.  "Ah, what is it?" Khalid asked with some trepidation.

"Nothing my friend," Jalaal replied, "I was just thinking that perhaps we should rest here and approach the pass in the morning.  Once within it, there will be little room to conceal our camp."

	Khalid glanced at Gorak, who shrugged.  "Ah, yes, very well then.  We shall camp here and proceed, yes, proceed in the morning."

	The mood in the camp was subdued, as each of them tried to prepare for the coming ordeal.  Khalid had never been in a cave, but he figured it couldn't be much worse than his hovel in Gem-Sharad.  In fact, he reasoned, it would probably be cooler.  Still, it was a long time before he and the others fell asleep.

	The next morning, unsurprisingly, dawned clear and hot.   The group made their way up the path towards the mountains.  Before long, the pass itself lay before them.  It was as though the range had been struck with an enormous axe here, so clean was the break in the mountains.  Steep stone cliffs rose up around them almost immediately, shrouding the path itself in shadows.  It was about fifty feet wide at the entrance, although Khalid had read that it narrowed considerably in some places.

	As the sun rose, the shadows gradually disappeared, and Khalid felt somewhat more at ease.  Jalaal was intently studying the south wall as they moved, looking for the location of the cave.  After they had traveled for half an hour, he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "Aha, my friends, it is just up ahead."

	Khalid peered at the south wall, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.  "Ah, yes, are you certain?  I see nothing, yes, nothing."

"I see something," Gorak growled.  He was shading his eyes and looking further down the pass.  "What's that?"

Jalaal squinted and looked down the pass.  With a sharp intake of breath he cursed, "That is not supposed to be there, it should be much farther east.  My friends, we must hurry."

At that moment, Shayla uttered a startled little shriek as four riders moved into the center of the pass from shadowy alcoves lining the mountain walls.   Each was adorned in glittering platemail, and held a steel tipped lance.  Khalid turned to Jalaal with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach and asked, "Ah, and I suppose those, yes, those are…"

"Dwerro."  Jalaal replied as he drew his enormous scimitar.**

* * * * * * * * * *​
*Heh, stupid snake took like max damage from that hit, and still had hps left.  That hit would have dropped any one of us, including Jalaal I think.

**Dwerro = Dwarves


----------



## Guillaume

Thanks for the new post.  Really enjoyed it.  What can we do to pressure you for more ?


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## Black Bard

Great update!!! I just wonder how those dwarves can stay in plate mail? 
Don't they _overheat_ ??  



			
				Guillaume said:
			
		

> Thanks for the new post.  Really enjoyed it.  What can we do to pressure you for more ?



Let's start again with THE CHORUS!!!! It proved so annoying that EternalNewbie *had to* update!!!


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## Bill Muench

Thanks for the update! I really enjoy the little changes in spells, creatures, etc. It helps give the story character.


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## EternalNewbie

Black Bard said:
			
		

> Great update!!! I just wonder how those dwarves can stay in plate mail?
> Don't they _overheat_ ??




It's a little cooler in the mountains, and tends to be a little more like a savannah around the foothills.  Besides, they're 3.5 dwarves who, from what I can tell, can do everything except walk on water and cure lepers.  And I'm pretty sure that at least a few of them can do that too.  (The reason for my bitterness will probably be evident at a later date ) 




			
				Black Bard said:
			
		

> Let's start again with THE CHORUS!!!! It proved so annoying that EternalNewbie *had to* update!!!




No, no.  That's quite alright.  Here's your update.  Only 3 days after the last one too, can you tell I'm procrastinating from something?  I had originally planned to break the posts at different points then I did, but I realized that would result in the posts being ten pages long.  Rather than have it sit on my computer half finished for a month, I figured I'd post it anyhow.  I think it works out okay.  

One final note.  This post hasn't been proofed by anybody yet.  Shayla's in Europe and Galeman's in Halifax.  Gorak's off doing whatever it is that Gorak does on a Saturday afternoon.  Anyhow, there may be some grammatical errors etc, that I haven't caught, but as always I'm pretty sure it's factually accurate, more or less.  Enjoy.

(PS.  Ugh.  I fixed a bunch of mistakes, but there's still probably a few more.)

* * * * * * * * * *​
Time seemed to slow down for Khalid.  Both groups stood poised on the brink of terrible violence, facing each other over a hundred feet of dirt.  Khalid noted each detail with peculiar clarity.  The platemail, ornate and meticulously crafted, was emblazoned with a crest depicting two crossed hammers.  The close faced helms, the huge metal shields and the ten-foot lances held at the ready; Khalid took in all of these things with a single glance.  The mounts, heavily armored with thick plate barding, were undoubtedly the fattest horses Khalid had ever seen.  He squinted into the gloom, and realized with a sense of growing incredulity that the Dwerro weren't riding horses, they were riding pigs.  But not the tiny, squealing animals sold in the market.  These were huge boars with thick, coarse hair and gleaming white tusks.  Khalid shuddered at the thought of being run down by one of the disgusting beasts, it's stubby little hooves trampling over him, the gleam in its beady little eyes as it gored him with its thick tusks.  The thought was almost too much to bear for Khalid, and he did the only thing he could.  He panicked.

Everything erupted into motion.  Khalid was suddenly aware that he was standing with his arm outstretched, his fingers still coated with fine white sand, as the last arcane syllable of his spell echoed off the cavern wall.  The two riders in the center slumped over their saddle horns, while the remaining two warriors glanced at each other then spurred their mounts into a charge.  Khalid, realizing that he had just made himself the prime target and lacking the protection of any of his defensive spells, turned with a shriek and fled back down the pass.

Shayla, possessed of a tranquility shown only in battle, calmly raised her crossbow and fitted it with a bolt.  Dropping to one knee, she steadied it against her shoulder and drew a bead on one of the charging riders, confident that Gorak would deal with the other.  As the rider thundered down on her, she exhaled slowly and fired, striking the Dwerro dead center in the chest.  The force of the impact lifted the Dwerro out of his saddle and sent him tumbling backwards over the rump of his mount.  Crashing heavily to the ground, the Dwerro rolled several feet, then lay in the center of the path unmoving.

Shayla's confidence was well placed as Gorak and Jalaal stepped forward to engage the other rider.  As Gorak began to chant, the rider changed his course slightly and leveled his lance at him.  Khalid winced in anticipation of the terrific impact, but it never came.  The air around the boar thickened and seemed to solidify.  The beast's legs locked and it skidded to an abrupt halt, sending the surprised Dwerro catapulting over the boar's head to land with a crash at Jalaal's feet.  With a sickening thud, Jalaal brought his scimitar down on the back of the warrior's neck, sending a spray of blood onto the cavern wall.*

There was no time for Khalid to gather his scattered wits however, as the mounts of the two sleeping riders turned and began to amble back towards the fortifications that spanned the mountain pass further down the road.  Edging carefully around the paralyzed boar, Khalid rejoined the others as Jalaal tightened his sword belt and fixed his pack.  Spitting on his hands, Jalaal reached down and scooped up a handful of grit.  "Follow me as quickly as you can, my friends," Jalaal said, as he wedged his fingers in a small crevice on the cliff face and began to scale the wall.  "Somebody may have been watching."

Khalid was torn between watching Jalaal climb and the huge Dwerro fortification blocking the pass.  Jalaal was moving with what seemed to Khalid to be agonizing slowness as he tested each hand and foothold carefully.  After Jalaal had climbed about thirty feet, Khalid couldn't bear to watch anymore, and instead focused on the fortifications.  His vigilance was unfortunately rewarded.

"Ah, yes, it would appear that they are sending more soldiers out."  Khalid stammered as a huge door in the fortifications opened and more Dwerro emerged.  "Yes, quite a few more."

Jalaal had finally reached the top, and hastily dropped down a knotted rope.  "Quickly, the rope is secured.  Come, come."

"Shayla," Gorak growled as he watched the gathering Dwerro.  "You first, then Khalid.  I'll go last."

Shayla, with a look of trepidation on her face, grabbed the rope and tried to lift herself off the ground.  She climbed about five feet before, in her haste, she lost her grip and slid down the rope.  With a cry of pain she dropped to the ground and looked at her hands, which were raw and bleeding.  Gritting her teeth and ignoring the pain, she began to climb again, more slowly this time.  She had gone half way up and was hanging about twenty feet off the ground when she stopped.  Looking down, she cried, "I can't do it.  I can't go any farther."**

Gorak was calm and reassuring.  "Just go slow," he rumbled.  "Take your time.  You can make it."

Khalid however, was anything but.  "Ah, hurry up, they're riding out of the gate."

Shayla finally made it to the top, and vanished into the crevice behind Jalaal.  Khalid, with a strength born of fear, grabbed the rope hastily and began to haul himself up.  Pausing only briefly to secure a better hold, he raced up the rope and squeezed past Jalaal into the darkness.  As soon as he let go of the rope, Gorak grabbed it and began to climb hand over hand.   Jalaal reached down and grabbed his arm as he reached the top, and dragged him inside.  Pulling the rope up quickly, they moved into the cave led by the clear, unwavering light of Shayla's spell.

They began moving immediately, attempting to put as much distance between themselves and any potential pursuers as possible.  Finally, after stumbling through the gloom for what seemed like an eternity to Khalid, Gorak called a halt and motioned them to silence.  Creeping slowly back down the path, he listened closely for any sound of pursuit.  Satisfied, he rejoined the others.  "Don't seem like nobody followed us up here," he growled.  "Near as I can tell anyhow."

"Do you think they saw where we went?" Shayla asked.

"Yup," Gorak replied.  "They were pretty damn close by the time I got up the rope.  It's not like they won't figure it out.  This cave might be hard to see from the ground, but if they look, they'll find it."

"It is not all bad, my friends," Jalaal remarked.  "The tunnels branch occasionally, further ahead.  If we take care to conceal our passage, they could end up searching these caverns for weeks before they find us.  I believe it will take us several more days to reach Malakai's operation, and there should be ample opportunity to evade any trailing Dwerro."

"Ah, indeed, but even if there is no pursuit, how, yes, how exactly are we going to get back out past all those soldiers?" Khalid asked.  Bathed by the glow of Shayla's light, they looked at each other with grim expressions.  Nobody had an answer.

* * * * * * * * * *​
	Khalid breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed into the seemingly unbounded space of his spell.  Two days beneath the earth was beginning to wear upon him.  He wasn't sure that, without the refuge of his spell and the sense of openness it provided, he would have been able to retain his composure.  Shayla too had become waspish of late, and although it was never mentioned, it was obviously that she too was beginning to feel the enormous weight of the mountain overhead settling down on her.  Only Gorak seemed untroubled by the stone walls and darkness.  He bore the confinement with the same stoic manner in which he handled everything else.  Khalid lay back on his bedroll, and tried to forget what lay outside the small portal.  To his eyes, it was pitch black, but he knew Gorak was still out there somewhere, scouting around.  Khalid pounded the lumps out of his rucksack then slid it under his head as he lay back to wait.  

A few minutes later, Gorak's head poked through the portal.  "Jalaal," he growled.  "C'mere and listen."  

Jalaal rose and dropped out of the portal, back into the caves.  In short order the two men returned.  "I hear it too, my friend."  Jalaal said as he helped Gorak into the extradimensional space.

"Ah, yes, hear what?" Khalid asked.

"The rhythmic sound of metal on stone, my friend.  We are close now, very close."  Jalaal replied.

"Maybe in the morning, I can send Emma out to take a look around." Shayla offered.  At the mention of her name, Emma, Shayla's pet cat, perked up and mewed softly.  Shayla had picked up the smoky grey feline in Shalazar, and Khalid had noticed the uncanny intelligence in her green-eyed stare.  He had read about a peculiar ritual bonding between spellcasters and animals, but had never attempted it himself.  For some reason, most animals disliked him.***   

"That's assuming that it's not morning right now."  Shayla continued as she glanced at Gorak.  They had come to rely on Gorak's sense of timing, which was highly accurate even when he couldn't see the sun. 

"Nah," he grunted.  "We're keeping a pretty regular schedule.  It's late evening right now.  If we do a little scouting tomorrow, hit 'em around sunset if we need to, we can catch 'em on a shift change maybe."

"Ah, indeed.  That sounds reasonable.  I am not exactly prepared for a confrontation this evening.  Tomorrow will be much more suitable.  Yes, quite."  Khalid added.  He settled back into his bedroll and tried to get comfortable.  The ground, if it could properly be called that, in the extradimensional space was neither too firm, nor too yielding.  Khalid considered that aspect of his spell until finally he relaxed enough to drift into sleep.

It seemed like only minutes later when a noise woke him up.  Khalid sat up and stared blearily at Gorak who was fully dressed and heading out of the portal.  Not wanting to disturb the others, Khalid followed him out.  Gorak, out of consideration for Khalid, had lit the lantern and was seated cross-legged a dozen feet from the suspended rope.  "Ah, what time is it?" Khalid asked somewhat sleepily.

"Dawn." Gorak grunted.  "I need to gather my strength for the coming day."

"Ah, indeed.  But wouldn't it be safer, yes, safer to remain within extradimensional space," Khalid asked between yawns.

"It's no good." Gorak rumbled.  "I need to feel the touch of the earth, to feel the ebb and flow of the life around me.  In there, it's empty.  I feel cut off."****

"Ah, I see.  Yes, well the spell, I'm afraid, was designed without that consideration in mind.  Wake me up when it's time to go."

Khalid managed a few more hours of sleep before Shayla woke him up.  Khalid dropped out of his spell, and dismissed it with a thought.  Reaching into Shayla's pack, he conjured an image of sambousik pastry, filled with nice tender lamb.  He felt nothing.  He then thought about flat bread and dried dates.  Sighing heavily, he drew an oilskin cloth out of the magical backpack and unwrapped his breakfast.

"Quiet," Shayla muttered from where she was sitting a few feet away.  "I'm trying to concentrate."  After a few more minutes of silence, Shayla stood up.  "The main tunnel keeps going."  She began to gather up her gear.  "We're going to have to start moving.  I can't stay in touch with Emma if the range gets much greater."

They quickly made ready to travel and followed Shayla down the main tunnel.  Absently shifting the lantern to his left hand, Khalid leaned in close to Gorak and asked, "Ah, Goblins, they have excellent sight in the dark, yes?"  Gorak grunted in agreement.  "Ah, well then isn't me carrying this lantern going to make me, ah, I mean us, a big target, and warn them of our approach?"

"It might," Gorak rumbled.  "But there ain't much we can do about it.  They may use torches for mining anyhow.  Can't distinguish colors in the black.  Makes it hard to do detailed work."  He fell silent as Shayla shushed them yet again.  All in all, Khalid thought she was playing up her role a bit.

	They all stopped immediately however, when Shayla raised her hand.  "The path splits where Emma is.  There's a lot more noise, and a bit of light.  The branch is the same size as the main path.  There's some sort of metal running along the ground.  Emma doesn't know what it's for.  Do you want me to tell her to keep going, or to head down the side passage."

	"Ah, let's perhaps bypass that area, until we have a better idea of what we're facing.  Have her continue a bit further."

	Shayla relayed the command to her familiar.  "She's scared, but she's gonna to keep going."  There was a pause as she communicated with Emma.  "She still hasn't seen anything, but there's a smaller side passage, heads the same direction as the other, bigger tunnel.  There's a lot of noise coming from that little passage."

	"Let's try that then," Gorak rumbled.  "We know there's a whole mess of goblins down here, and I'd rather not fight 'em all at once.  We'll hit that small group, see if we can turn up some ore or better yet, some ingots.  If not, we keep moving."

	They moved forward quickly, lest the light betray their presence to the goblin.   Despite the fact he was carrying the lantern, Khalid still managed to stumble over something on the floor.  A glint of metal caught his eye, and looking down, he saw the metal Emma had described.  "Ah, it looks like old rail lines, yes, for mining carts," he muttered to himself.  The rails were rusted and bent, covered with dust and loose rock.  Realizing that he was falling behind, Khalid hurried to catch up to the others.

	As they approached the split in the tunnel, Khalid noted that the rails here were well maintained, and probably used in the mining operation.  Motioning for silence, Gorak crept beyond the range of the light and moved towards the branching mineshaft.  A few seconds later, he returned and waved them forward quickly.  Khalid felt dreadfully exposed as they crept past the large tunnel and continued down the main path.  Despite his concerns, no alarm was raised as they approached the small side passage.

	With Gorak in the lead, they snuck down the side tunnel.  Where the main route had been ten to fifteen feet wide, this passage narrowed down to the point where they had to walk in single file.  Khalid was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the plan, when Gorak stopped and motioned for him to come forward.  As Khalid pushed past Shayla he noticed a dim glow coming from a room up ahead.  Peering around the corner he saw five goblins, each working in its own alcove in a larger room, chipping away at the stone walls.  Glancing back at Gorak, who drew his cudgel and nodded, Khalid took a deep breath and launched into a spell.  

	Before the hapless goblins could react, three of them fell snoring to the cavern floor.  Gorak came charging around the corner, past Khalid, his cudgel raised high.  He caught a blow from a goblin mining pick on his shield, and caved in the creature's head with a crushing blow from his club.  Shayla emerged from behind Khalid and flung two lancets of force, skewering the last goblin, who barely had time to gasp in pain before Jalaal disemboweled him with a quick slash of his scimitar.

	Moving quickly, they finished off sleeping goblins, then paused to see if their foray had been detected.  There was an instant of complete silence, as they held their breath and waited.  Khalid exhaled in relief just as the sounds of frenzied activity echoed from further down the tunnel.

	"That don't sound good," Gorak growled.  "We'd better move now."

	They left the small room and continued down the side passage, heading further away from the main tunnel.  Gorak's shoulders banged and scraped against the rock walls, sending showers of dust and loose rock cascading to the floor.  The path turned ahead, and continued back the way they had come, parallel to the main tunnel.  It twisted again, and Gorak, followed closely by Jalaal vanished around the corner.  Khalid, bringing up the rear with Shayla, cringed as he heard the sound of steel striking wood.  He rounded the corner just in time to see Gorak, his shield raised, reel back from a powerful blow.   Barring their path was a fat goblin, almost as tall as Gorak.  His skin, unlike the smaller, orange goblins they had just overwhelmed, was ruddier, and tinged darker red.  He was girded in a shining steel breastplate and flat topped helm with a thick nose guard that barely concealed his snarling features.  Of more concern was the enormous two-handed sword he wielded with astonishing skill in the cramped confines.  

The goblin had cunningly chosen to defend a bend in the passage, and Jalaal was forced to squeeze past Gorak to engage him.  With Gorak still staggered by the first blow, the goblin lashed out and caught Jalaal in the face with the hilt of his sword, snapping his head back and bloodying his nose.  

Khalid, knowing that there had to be more goblins close by, began to call for reinforcements, chanting quickly as he enacted a complex summoning ritual.  Shayla, meanwhile, pushed past him and loosed a volley of spinning disks, slashing into the goblin's fat hide.  With a curse, the goblin hacked at Gorak again, his blade skipping off Gorak's shield and striking him on the shoulder, splitting his leather armor.  As Gorak attempted to defend himself, the goblin took the opportunity to step backwards out of Shayla's line of sight.  

Khalid cursed silently as he realized that the goblin now occupied the only free space nearby to complete his summoning.  He watched as Jalaal, his blade weaving defensively in front of him, lunged forward, only to be foiled by the goblin's thick steel breastplate.  With no other alternative, Khalid completed his summoning spell, and directly in front of him a large mastiff coalesced out of the shadows.  "Push forward," Khalid cried. "You've got to push forward so Shayla and I can get into the battle."

Jalaal and Gorak however, were faring poorly against the large goblin.  Gorak, now badly wounded, managed to catch the goblin in the side, just past the edge of his breastplate, knocking the breath from his lungs.  Jalaal however, could find no gaps in the goblin's defenses, and time and again the goblin's sword or armor turned his blade.  Worse still, the short hacking blows of the goblin's blade were too much for Jalaal's elegant defense.  Blood was streaming down his forearms from a multitude of cuts, and he was keeping one arm pressed close against his side to staunch the flow of blood from a vicious wound above his ribs.  Nevertheless, Jalaal pressed forward and pushed past the goblin.

The goblin, unfazed, feinted at Gorak then spun around, leveling a vicious slash at Jalaal.  There was a moment of shocked silence as Jalaal reeled back from the blow, then Shayla screamed as Jalaal's severed head rolled to a stop at her feet.  His body, fountaining blood, dropped to its knees then pitched forward onto the cold stone floor of the cave.*****

Gorak, with a roar of rage, lunged forward and smashed his cudgel into the goblin's helm.  Khalid's summoned hound, having a clear path, darted into the fray and began to savagely tear at the goblin's legs.

With a final curse, the goblin ducked a blow from Gorak, kicked the hound away and retreated down the corridor.  Gorak, seething with rage, gave chase, with Shayla right behind him.  Khalid, sparing only the briefest of glances for Jalaal, hurried to keep up.   As he rounded the corner, he emerged into a much larger room.  Evidence of heavy mining was everywhere, and the walls were streaked with veins of what Khalid presumed was adamantine.  Of more immediate concern however, was the mining cart rumbling down the track, heading for the main passage.  Four goblins were outside the cart itself, on a narrow platform, frantically working levers.  More goblins were inside the cart, and the warrior they had blocked the tunnel caught up and leapt onto the back of the cart.  

A few of the goblins had crossbows, and began to fire at Gorak, who ducked aside and kept running.  Sparks exploded from the right wheels of the cart as the goblins on that side braked hard to make the turn into the main passage.  The cart leaned sickeningly to one side, and the two right wheels lifted off the track.  With a horrible metal screech the cart rounded the corner and crashed back down onto the track.

Gorak, realizing that the cart was gathering speed and would soon be moving too quickly to overtake, skidded to halt and shouted, "Shayla, gimme some light down there," as he began to cast a spell.  Shayla, casting a hasty light spell, flung the small stone she had used as a focus as far down the path as she could.  As Gorak completed his spell, his right hand burst into flame.  When the cart passed through the radius of the light, Gorak flicked his hand and sent a tiny ball of fire streaking through the air.

The large red goblin, who had been shouting orders to the goblins in the front of the cart, turned and stared stupidly down at the smoking hole in his side.  Then his eyes rolled back and he slumped forward.  One of the goblins in the cart reached down and grabbed him, keeping him from falling off as they sped off into the darkness.

Cursing, Gorak moved to follow them as Khalid caught up.  Still fuming, he growled, "We've gotta keep moving.  Gotta catch up to them."

"Ah, Gorak, you're badly wounded.  Shayla and I are no longer at full strength, and we're without…yes, ah, and we don't know what lies ahead."

Gritting his teeth, Gorak clenched his still flaming fist and snarled a curse into the darkness.  "You're right," he growled.  "We should go back, check out that room for ore, then get out of here."

They walked quickly back to where the goblins had been mining.  Searching the area quickly, they recovered only a few pounds of ore.  "Ah, it would appear that they loaded everything, yes, everything on that cart before they left." Khalid's tone was heavy with disappointment.

"There's hardly anything in the other room either," Gorak rumbled as he emerged from the smaller passage.  Khalid noticed that Jalaal's scimitar was tucked in his belt.  "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"What about…" Shayla couldn't bring herself to continue.

"He's dead, and he's too heavy to carry.  I grabbed his sword, maybe he's got family or something we can give it to, but there ain't nothing more we can do.  Not now.  Let's go."  Khalid knew Gorak well enough to know that he wasn't being callous, just pragmatic and that he didn't like the situation any better than Khalid or Shayla.

They traveled in silence, moving quickly through the tunnels back to where they had made camp the night before.  Khalid kept the lantern carefully covered, providing only enough light to illuminate the floor directly in front of him.  Once they had gone far enough down the tunnel to be sure that no one could track them easily, Khalid dropped the short piece of rope he wore around his waist onto the ground and cast his spell.  The rope had barely finished rising into the air when Khalid grabbed it and clambered up into the extradimensional space.  Throwing his pack to the quasi-substantial ground, he felt grief and no small measure of fear overtake him.  They had lost a guide, a skilled warrior and more importantly, a friend in that battle, and had little if anything to show for it.

Shayla, her eyes shining with unshed tears, sat down heavily on the ground as Gorak entered the space and pulled the rope up behind him.  No one said anything for a while, until finally Khalid found the voice to ask the question that foremost in all their minds, "Ah, so what do we do now?"

* * * * * * * * * *​
*This fight was actually a bit longer.  Per Gorak, both he and Jalaal whacked at the dwerro a bit after he paralyzed the pig.

**Shayla failed a lot of climb checks here.  I mean, a lot.  I was pretty sure we were going to end up fighting a regiment of dwarves, but luckily, I only failed once, and not by enough to fall.

***I'm pretty sure I forgot to mention that Shayla picked up a familiar in Shalazar.  Much like Sousee, Gorak's snake, Emma doesn't play that big of a role, most of the time and I kind of forget about them both.

****One of the few drawbacks to rope trick in this campaign, which is way too powerful in both my and Galeman's opinion.  In future campaigns we'll either half the duration or swap it with leomunds tiny hut.  However, this drawback becomes critical later on   

*****Stupid critical hit with a two handed sword.  Dropped him immediately to -10.  We determined that if he had hit Gorak, he'd would have been at -8 or -9.  The goblin did something like 25 pts of damage on that hit.  Oh, incidentally, Shayla's shot in the first combat was a crit as well.


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## TaranTheWanderer

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> This post hasn't been proofed by anybody yet.  Shayla's in Europe and Galeman's in Halifax.  Gorak's off doing whatever it is that Gorak does on a Saturday afternoon.




Gorak was rock-climbing on a Saturday afternoon and was being eaten alive by black-flies.  It's funny how rarely those little pests are mentionned in adventures...well, unless they're stirges...

"Produce flame" became a favorite spell of mine after that adventure.  You gotta love touch attacks.  Especially when your Dex is 10!


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## TaranTheWanderer

Since I have the inside scoop, I might as well inform everyone that EternalNewbie has almost got the next update done... No pressure 

Oh yeah, and bump.


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## Black Bard

Great, great update!!!
But I must say I'm sad... I really liked Jalaal, my friends...

And thanks, Taran, for the inside scoop!!! That way we don't annoy EternalNewbie so much with our pleas for update...


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## EternalNewbie

TaranTheWanderer said:
			
		

> Since I have the inside scoop, I might as well inform everyone that EternalNewbie has almost got the next update done... No pressure




Hrm.  Maybe I should clarify a few things in Taran's post.  What he means by 'inside scoop' is 'misinterpreted MSN message' and what he means by 'almost done' is 'just started'.

Actually it's a little further along then that.  It'll probably be up by the end of the weekend.  When Galeman gets back, I'll get him to post stats for Jalaal and Malakai in the rogues gallery, which has been neglected for far too long (my fault, I know).


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## LRathbun

I just found this thread and read through it.  It really quite good!  Keep up the good writing Newb.


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## EternalNewbie

Thanks for the posts guys, it's always nice to know that people are enjoying the story.  To show my appreciation, here's an update.

I realize that it might be a little hard to follow my description of the goblin mines.  I'll see if I can get Galeman to post some of the maps when he gets back.

Lastly, to give you an idea of where we are in the campaign, there are at least two more 'chapters' after the Mines of Malakai, that will probably end up being roughly the same length when written out.  We're in the middle of the 6th 'chapter' now, with everything on hold as people have scattered to the far ends of the earth...

Anyhow, that's enough fluff for one day.  Now on to what you came here for in the first place...

(PS.  Hasn't been proofed, so it's subject to revision...)

* * * * * * * * * *​
	"Ah, how many does that make?" Khalid asked wearily, as he shook out his bedroll on the muted grey floor of the extradimensional space.

	"Twenty seven," Gorak grunted, wiping gore off his leather armor with a rag.

	"Yes, quite," Khalid agreed.  "How many did Jalaal say were in here?"

	Gorak's brow furrowed as he tried to recall the conversation with Jalaal.  Shayla, who had been sitting on the floor, absently stroking Emma, finally broke the silence.  "I think he said two score, maybe more."*

	"Ah, was that able combatants, or for, yes, the whole tribe in total?" Khalid pressed.

	Shayla shrugged helplessly.  "I'm sorry Khalid, I don't remember."  Shayla looked completely drained after the day's foray into the mines.

	Khalid too, felt a deep exhaustion that seemed to penetrate him to the very bone.  He sat back, propped himself up on his rucksack, closed his eyes, and replayed the events of the day in his mind.  There hadn't really been any question as to their course of action after Jalaal died.  Faced with the prospect of returning empty handed and battling their way out past alert Dwerro sentries, they had decided to remain in the caves and attempt to finish their task.  Their only chance now was to inflict such dreadful losses upon the goblins that they would be forced to retreat or hole up, allowing the group to flee through the front exit of the mine, hopefully after they had recovered enough adamantium to satisfy Arbaq.

	After recuperating from the prior day, they had set out at roughly the same time.  Heading down the main passage, this time they opted to head straight to the larger room, in the hopes of surprising the goblin miners and blocking the cart's escape.

	It was, as Khalid had guessed earlier, quite difficult to sneak up on the crafty goblins carrying a lantern and despite their best efforts, the goblins were waiting for them.  As they hurried down the larger side passage, the alarm was raised.  Khalid recalled with a shudder what the goblins had planned for them.  As soon as the alarm had been raised, four goblins hopped on the mining cart, and had begun to feverishly work the levers that propelled it.  In the narrow confines of the mining tunnel, there was no room to flee the cart and they would have been crushed against the walls or worse still, overrun by the cart entirely.  Fortunately, the two in the front had succumbed to his magical slumber, while one in the rear had fallen to Shayla's magical darts.  The lone remaining goblin, unable to propel the cart by himself, had fled shrieking into a side passage.  After dispatching a few more goblins and finding no ore, refined or otherwise, they had departed, heading back for the main path.

	The goblins however, had another surprise waiting for them.  Where the passage met the main tunnel, several archers lay in wait armed not only with crossbows, but also with vials of naphtha that burst into flame upon contacting the air.  Even so, they were no match for Gorak and Shayla. Between Shayla's lancets of force and Gorak's unerring aim with his conjured balls of fire, they had decimated the archers and drove them back.  At the intersection, they met the commander of the ambush, another red skinned goblin who by some dweomer was clinging to the ceiling.  Despite his concealment however, the goblin managed to strike only a glancing blow on Gorak.  After suffering the effects of one of Shayla's spells, the goblin attempted to scuttle away along the ceiling.  Gorak, with a plundered spear, neatly skewered the goblin, pinning it to the ceiling and then slamming it to the cavern floor.  Fortunately, the vials of naphtha the goblin was carrying were well protected, and several now took the place of used potions on Khalid's belt.  Shayla, after thoroughly cleaning it, had donned the red skinned goblin's bandolier, and carried the remaining vials of liquid flame.

	Exhausted and wounded, the party had retreated back beyond the range of the goblin miners, but not before derailing the cart and rendering it inoperable.  While Khalid had no illusions about the effect that would have on the mining operation, he reasoned that at the very least, it couldn't be used for any more attacks.

	Khalid sighed and propped himself up on one elbow.  "Ah, perhaps we should discuss our next move.  Yes, quite."

	Gorak, with a glance at Shayla who was curled up in a ball, sleeping soundly, shook his head.  "Nah, it can wait until morning."

	Morning came far too early for Khalid's liking.  Roused from a pleasant dream featuring several of the more comely women of Arbaq's harem, Khalid groggily joined Shayla and Gorak in the tunnels and dismissed his spell.  Splashing some water on his face, he wondered if he looked as haggard as they did.  

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Shayla mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

"Ah, yes, I was considering a few options.  Thanks to Emma, we know that the main path continues on, fairly straight after the side passages until it reaches a fairly stout wooden door."

"There's a bit of a turn near the end," Shayla interrupted, "but for the most part, yes.  There's also more passages that branch off, opposite the ones we've already been down."

"Yes, quite," Khalid continued.  "Well, I was thinking that perhaps, yes, perhaps if we can make it past the goblins and reach the door, we can find a way to bar it.  Then we can roam around the tunnels, making noise and ah, well, killing goblins.  When they try to flee, they'll find the exit impassable, yes quite impassable and we can trap them in a dead end."

"How are we going to bar the door?" Shayla asked.

"I got a spell that'll help.  I can warp the door, bend it so it's jammed against the frame.  They'll have to hack it to pieces to get out." Gorak replied.

"Ah, excellent, yes, excellent.  That should work nicely." Khalid said, feeling rather pleased with himself.

"There might be another way out of the mines." Shayla pointed out.

"Ah, indeed.  Still, if they don't know that the door has been barred they will attempt to flee to the nearest exit.  We should still be able to trap some of them.  Yes, quite."

"I was thinking of something else too," Gorak rumbled.  "We can maybe mine the ore ourselves, then at least all we'll have to do is figure a way outta here."

"Ah, Gorak, not to be overly critical but, ah, I know nothing of mining, and I don't exactly have the physique for it.  Yes, quite."

"I know that," Gorak grunted.  "I've got another spell.  I can soften the earth around a vein.  We can just dig it out with our hands if we need too, but there should be some goblin tools around."

"Indeed. That sounds much better then.  Yes, quite." Khalid replied.  "Ah, Let's block the door first, yes?  That way, we'll either, ah, hear them chopping down the door, or if we're attacked, perhaps close off their avenue of escape."

 "Right," Gorak agreed.  "I'll prepare those spells."  He paused for a second.  "Those bastards are probably going to be a lot more organized today.  We should probably come up with a signal or plan or something, that calls out the retreat."

"Yes, quite.  I've been giving it some thought and ah, if it becomes necessary, Shayla can provide cover by shrouding us in mist.  Yes, and then I will open a portal.  If we're, ah, quick enough we should be able to vanish, without them knowing where we've gone.  Yes, quite." Khalid glanced at the others.

"Sounds good to me," Shayla replied.

"Yup.  It should work.  Just be ready to move.  Things could turn ugly pretty quick." Gorak rumbled.  "Now leave me alone, I need to concentrate."

As Gorak resumed his meditation, Shayla and Khalid moved down the passage and talked idly for a while.  They both carefully avoided mentioning Jalaal, or the upcoming day, instead reminiscing about pleasanter times and nicer places.  Eventually however, the weight of the mountain overhead crushed their conversation, and they sat in silence until Gorak appeared.  "I'm ready," he grunted.  "Let's get moving."

They began the long trek back into the goblin mining complex, with Khalid carefully shielding the light.  The pace was slow, hampered by the gloom and uneven terrain, but Khalid felt as they he was getting a feel for the path, having traveled it so many times in the past few days.  They walked in silence, and Khalid strained to catch any sound that might indicate their presence was detected.  Quite by accident the day before he had caught the ingenious goblins sending signals through the stone, by tapping it in rhythmic bursts.  Today however, the caves were ominously quiet.

Gorak motioned for them to halt and Khalid covered the light.  Creeping forward into the darkness, Gorak glanced around the corner of the intersection leading to the main mining area.  Seeing nothing, he retrieved the others and they continued their agonizingly slow pace through the mines.  They passed the smaller branch, and still there were no sign of the goblins.  Khalid dared to let himself hope that their foray yesterday had soured the goblins hunger for conflict, as they moved into the most dangerous area of the mine.  From Emma's scouting, they knew that there were no branches off the main tunnel as it approached a huge wooden door leading out of the mines.  The tunnel twisted slightly, about thirty feet from the door, preventing a clear view down the passage.  They all knew that if a goblin raiding party appeared from the tunnels behind them, they would be pinned against the door, and have to fight their way out.  Worse still, until the door was blocked, they would most likely be attacked from both sides at once.

Khalid, his nerves frayed from days beneath the earth, couldn't take it any longer.  "Ah, perhaps we should move quickly now and block the door," he hissed.

Gorak, nodding, picked up the pace as they rounded the small bend.  Seeing nothing, he sprinted to the door, with Khalid and Shayla close behind.  As Gorak began to chant, Shayla knelt down and picked up a small rock, ready to illuminate the passage if necessary.  Khalid, carefully shielding the lantern, tried to make himself as small a target as possible and crouched down along the cave wall.  Gorak finished his spell and touched one of the oaken planks of the huge iron bound door.  Khalid, glancing over his shoulder, watched in amazement as the wooden door began to warp.  There was a thin screech as the iron bands binding the planks buckled under the spell, and Shayla ducked as a bolt burst from the door and ricocheted down the tunnel.  The doorframe splintered as the wood continued to twist and move.  With a final groan, and shower of dust the door stopped moving.

There was complete silence for a moment, then the sound of panicked voices reached them from the other side of the door.  One of the goblins on the other side rattled the small viewing slot in the door, but it too had warped by Gorak's spell.  "There," Gorak grunted in satisfaction.  "Nobody is getting through that door without chopping it down."

"That's great," Shayla said, scanning nervously down the tunnel, "now can we please get out of the dead end death trap?"

The group turned and hurried back down the main passage.  Even after the disturbance, there was no sign of activity in the caves.  Khalid was beginning to get worried again.  Alternating between relief that they hadn't encountered anyone and panic that the goblins were closing in around them, Khalid felt as though he was going to fly apart.  They turned down the smaller side passage and followed it past the place where Jalaal had fallen.  His body had been removed, but in the flickering light of the lantern, Khalid could see the reddish brown stain on the floor and walls.  With a shudder, he hurried after Gorak into the main room.

Khalid and Shayla took up defensive positions near the entrances while Gorak prowled around the room, searching for the best spot to target with his spell.  "Gimme some light over here, Khalid," he growled.  Khalid obligingly uncovered the lantern and shone it around the room.  Nodding to himself, he picked a vein of ore that roped its way across the wall and up into the ceiling.

Khalid was only half watching as Gorak cast his spell, intent as he was on detecting any approaching goblins.  As Gorak finished chanting, Khalid looked back over his shoulder.  Gorak moved forward and tapped the rock wall with a goblin pick.  "Ah, Gorak, did I miss something?"  Khalid asked.

"No," Gorak growled, his expression darkening.  "It didn't work."

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid began, "why…"

"I don't know why it didn't work, Khalid," Gorak snarled.  "It just didn't."

"So what do we do now?" Shayla asked.

"I'm not sure," Gorak rumbled. "I guess…" he trailed off as a noise echoed down through the tunnels.  They all strained to listen, as Khalid hid the light.  From down the main passage, the panicked sound of a fist hammering on wood reached their ears.  With a feral grin, Gorak turned to others.  "I guess we go kill goblins."

They set off down the twisting, narrow passages, moving quickly to spring their trap.  As Gorak rounded the last bend, he skidded to a halt.  Khalid, in full stride had to twist aside to avoid crashing into him.  Facing away from them, pounding frantically on the wooden door was a small, red skinned goblin draped in blood red robes that matched almost perfectly the tinge of his skin.  Pouches and fetishes hung from belts and straps that crisscrossed the goblin's body.  At the sound of their approach, the goblin slowly turned to face them.  Gorak, with a curse whirled around and raised his shield, as Khalid and Shayla stood there, completely unnerved.  Khalid felt a sickening fear seize him, as the look of panic slowly faded from the goblin's face to be replaced with a vicious, evil sneer.  Then all hell descended upon them.** 

* * * * * * * * * *​
*This sparked an argument between Galeman and I.  I had originally asked how many goblins where in the caves, before we left Gem-Sharad I think, but somebody else interrupted and I never got an answer (it happens).  My point was that Khalid wouldn't go in there without knowing how many opponents were in there, while his was that if it was so important I should have asked Jalaal while we still knew where his head was.  Anyhow, Shayla was the only one to make the int check.  Thus began our war of attrition.  I remember the number 27 coming up, and the final total as well  

**Sigh.  We really should have barred the door a day earlier, in retrospect.


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## GandhitheBFG

Bump, bump, bump...bumpy, bumpy bumpy...bumpity, bumpity, bumpity...

*ahem*

just discovered the wonders of this...

NEED MORE! PLEASE!


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## pogre

Good stuff as usual!


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## Black Bard

Oh, yeah, very good!!!
Is the devious goblin-mage Malakai himself?


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## LRathbun

you can not leave us hangin' there!!!!


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## LRathbun

something just went *bump*...


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## EternalNewbie

*Good news and bad news...*

Here's an update, albeit a very short one.  That's the good news.  The bad news is that it's the last one for a while.  I managed to scrape my way by the first of a series of professional exams I have to write this summer and as a result, I'm going to be out of town for the next month, at a training course.  So no more updates until probably mid July.  That's the bad news.

Hopefully Galeman will post some stats and maps in the rogue's gallery, to keep the story hour from slipping completely into obscurity in my absence.  I'll bug Shayla to post some of the pictures she's drawn of her character too, but no promises there.

And now, for your reading pleasure...

* * * * * * * * * *​
Arcane words echoed down the hallway as Shayla and the goblin spellcaster began to chant, almost in unison.  Khalid, paralyzed with indecision, fumbled for his spell components as the chanting reached a crescendo.  The goblin, still sneering, finished his spell with a final curse and cast forth a wave of utter darkness that washed over them with an icy chill.  Khalid felt the insidious magic seep into the very core of his being, sapping his will.  As despair threatened to overwhelm him, he tapped an unexpected reserve of strength and fought back the insidious magic.

	Shayla too, seemed unaffected by the goblin's magic as her melodic voice rose with the final words of her spell.  The goblin's evil grin slowly faded into a look of horror, as Shayla's hand erupted in white-hot flame.  Khalid felt the skin on his cheek blister as a jet of searing fire sizzled past him and struck the goblin full in the face.  The goblin screamed in agony as his skin melted like wax beneath the fury of Shayla's spell.  His rich silk robes burst into flame as the goblin's lifeless body tumbled into a smoldering heap in front of the door.

	The battle however, was far from over.  Gorak shouted a warning as an enormous wolf raced down the hallway towards them.  Khalid watched in stunned disbelief as the form of the wolf twisted and warped before his very eyes.  The jet-black fur burst open in several places as the monstrosity's body began to bloat and distend.  The snout receded back into its face, becoming a thick nose set below beady, piggish eyes.  In mid stride, the wolf's forelegs became powerful arms tipped with razor sharp talons.   With a final heave, the creature planted one hand on the ground and sprang upright without slowing.  Clots of bloodied fur oozed off the creature as it slammed into Gorak with a terrific force.  

Staggered, Gorak reeled backwards as he suddenly found himself face to face with an enormous goblin.  The creature was nearly as tall as Khalid but easily four times as wide.  His skin was the color of drying blood, and rolls of thick, greasy fat hung down over a filthy loincloth.  An enormous two-handed sword was strapped to the goblin's back, but he seemed to have little need of it, favoring the cruelly hooked talons extending from each hand.

Khalid, in panicked desperation, sought a quick end to the melee and unleashed his magical slumber.  With a sense of utter dismay, he realized the instant he finished casting that his spell had no effect.  He stepped back, away from the goblin as he frantically reached into his spell component pouch to prepare another casting.

Gorak, recovering from his surprise, spilled Sousee out onto the cavern floor and charged the goblin, slamming his cudgel into the creature's meaty arm.  Shrugging off the powerful blow, the goblin lunged forward, driving his talons right through Gorak's hastily raised shield.  Wrenching the shield to one side, he slashed Gorak across the chest with his other hand, tearing deep rents in his leather armor.  Then, incredibly, the goblin's jaw distended impossibly wide and he bit Gorak's shoulder savagely, piercing easily through his armor.  As Gorak roared out in pain, Sousee lashed out again and again, sinking her fangs deep into the goblin's legs to little effect.

Blood coursing from his wounds and staining his armor, Gorak screamed, "We can't fight this thing!" as he wrenched his shield free.  Shayla, recognizing the danger, began to chant immediately and filled the tunnel with a bank of concealing fog.  

Khalid, hidden from the goblin's sight by the misty vapors, opened a portal and climbed inside, barely touching the rope in his haste to escape.  He waited anxiously for the others to follow, peering out into the haze, then uttered a startled yelp as Sousee slipped through the gate, surprising him.  Through the open portal, he could hear laboured breathing and Gorak's short grunts of pain.  As the fog eddied and swirled he caught dim flickers of motion as Gorak and the goblin remained locked in brutal combat.

Then, suddenly, Shayla screamed.  Khalid was stricken with panic as the piercing shriek faded into a hideous gurgle.  Desperate to help his friends, Khalid leaned far out of the portal to cast a spell, and then flinched as his face was coated with a spray of blood.  Shaken, he cast the only spell he could without seeing his target, but the sounds of combat told him that again his magical slumber had failed to effect the goblin.

Sick with fear, Khalid almost tumbled from the gateway as Gorak appeared in front of him with Shayla draped over his shoulder.  As Khalid scuttled backwards, Gorak, with a mighty heave, hurled Shayla through the portal, then leapt in after her.

Khalid crawled over to Shayla's limp form and rolled her over.  Checking quickly for a pulse, he sighed in relief as he realized she was still breathing.  He was about to reach for a healing potion when he glanced up and saw Gorak's eyes widen in fear.  With a growing sense of dread, Khalid realized that he hadn't pulled up the rope.  He turned and lunged at the opening.  As his fingers closed on the end of the cord, the goblin's enormous form emerged from the swirling mist.  Khalid's heart leapt into his throat as he stared out, directly into the bloated face of the goblin Malakai.  Then Khalid, who had never been a religious man, made his peace with the lost gods, as his worst fear came true.  Malakai grabbed the rope.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:

Ugh.  This fight was awful.  Heh, the first time we actually make an escape plan, we go and totally screw it up.  That totally changed the rest of the adventure.  I think both Shayla and I thought Gorak was a lot more hurt than he actually was when he started yelling to retreat, so she went to try and help him, and almost died (heh, not me, I stuck to the plan and got outta there as fast as I could ).  I don't know what I was doing in this fight.  I should have realized that sleep was never going to work, although in my defense I didn't have a lot of options.  I was planning on dealing with the hordes of goblins while Shayla hit the targets of opportunity.  The second time, I actually came out of the portal, and I *should* have gone and healed Shayla.  However, I succumbed to despair (it happens when you play in enough of Galeman's games) and assumed the campaign was going to end in a round or two, so I gambled on another sleep.  I also should have been readying to pull up the rope when Gorak came in.  Like I said, not my best fight...

Lastly, I don't exactly remember what the goblin cast on us.  I thought it was a spell that gave everybody a penalty to saves & attack rolls (name escapes me and I'm at work right now) while Galeman thought it may have been sleep (the goblin was a shaman).  I wrote it as the first, for varieties sake.  Not that it mattered, we all made our saves and Shayla obliterated him.  Heh, the first three times she used scorching ray, she did over 20pts of damage each time


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## TaranTheWanderer

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> Lastly, I don't exactly remember what the goblin cast on us.  I thought it was a spell that gave everybody a penalty to saves & attack rolls (name escapes me and I'm at work right now) while Galeman thought it may have been sleep (the goblin was a shaman).




In my recollection it was the 1st lvl spell "bless"...or its counter.  So, I'm agreeing with EternalNewbie's account of the combat.

When I called the retreat, I delayed my turn to block Malakai from seeing the "rope trick" while Shayla retreated.  Shayla, instead of fleeing, thought I was in trouble and walked ahead and cast "daze" on Malakai...    Alas, to our suprise, the spell didn't work.  Malakai, then stepped in and deliverd 400 points of damage to Shayla knocking her unconscious.  I took 2 attacks of oportunity in my efforts to rescue her.


----------



## Galeman

so i thought i'd drop this in here.  i've finally updated the rogue's gallery.  a brief purview of the crunchy bits that make up all the glory that is malakai.  go and have a look.  i'll also be trying to post stats on some of the other npcs we all came to know and love soon.


----------



## Suldulin

TaranTheWanderer said:
			
		

> Malakai, then stepped in and deliverd 400 points of damage to Shayla knocking her unconscious.




Extra 0 in there I hope


----------



## EternalNewbie

Suldulin said:
			
		

> Extra 0 in there I hope




Yeah, Taran's exagerating slightly.  Malakai didn't get quite that playful until he unstrapped his two-handed sword.


----------



## Look_a_Unicorn

Just finished reading through this story hour- it's fantastic! 
First Arabian setting I've read about- seems like it's working well for you


----------



## Dakkareth

Nice story hour


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

I have nothing interesting to say, but since EternalNewbie won't be back for some time, I should probably be a pal and give him a bump.


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## pogre

Hurry back En.


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## TaranTheWanderer

A little bump.  
My spies tell me that EternalNewbie will be back by the 30th... so soon ...


----------



## EternalNewbie

Well, I'm back.  Thanks for your patience although, I suppose I didn't leave you much choice in the matter...The good news is, that while I was gone, I managed to write up another update (it's amazing what being trapped in a little cell, without cable, the internet and only accounting textbooks to read will do for your creativity), but since I wrote it without the benefit of a computer, I have to type it all out.  Considering my handwriting, the transcription will probably take me just as long as writing it out in the first place.

Anyhow, the jist of this rather pointless post is that you can expect an update by the end of the weekend.


----------



## skullsmurfer

wow i like the story hour so far, khalid is pretty damn funny, keep up the good work


----------



## Black Bard

Great man!!
Try a _comprehend languages_ ...


----------



## EternalNewbie

As promised. I realize that some of the description of the mines is still confusing, so I'll try to explain it a little better at the end of the post.  I'm still working on getting a map posted for it, but honestly, I'm pretty lazy, so unless somebody else *coughGalemancough* does it, it could be a while...

* * * * * * * * * *​

	Khalid held his breath as the seconds passed with agonizing slowness.  Although he was on another plane of existence, the open portal meant that mere inches were all that separated him from the goblin Malakai.

	Gorak slowly crept closer to the gate, his cudgel raised to bludgeon Malakai if he attempted to enter.  All three were frozen there, waiting for something to happen.  Malakai squinted as Shayla's fog dispersed and illumination from a discarded light spell filled the tunnel.  But still he did not move.

	Finally, when Khalid felt as though he could stand it no more, Malakai drew a long, wickedly curved dagger from the filthy loincloth that was barely visible beneath his enormous stomach.  Gorak tensed up and placed a second hand on his club.  Malakai, however, did something completely unexpected.  With a quick jerk, he slashed the rope.  Quick as Gorak's snake Sousee, Khalid snatched up the remaining length of rope and sealed the portal.  Although he could no longer hear him, Khalid saw Malakai curse in frustration before he picked up the glowing stone and plunged the cave into darkness.

	Both Khalid and Gorak breathed a heavy sigh of relief as they slumped down.  Too tired to even stand, Gorak crawled over to Shayla and placed his hands over her wounds.  She came awake with a gasp of pain as Gorak finished his spell, instinctively scrambling away from him against the boundary of the pocket dimension.  As the confusion slowly left her eyes, she leaned forward and grabbed Gorak in a fierce hug.

	When Shayla finally regained her composure, Khalid cleared his throat.  "Ah, Gorak, perhaps you should take a look outside, since you're the only one that can see.  Yes, quite."

	Gorak moved back towards the portal and glanced around.  "Swarming with goblins," he grunted.  "Maybe we'd better take stock and see what we've got left.  We're gonna have to fight our way out of here."

	The pile that accumulated in front of them as they divested themselves of various weapons and items was depressingly small.  "Ah, yes, I've used most of my scrolls," Khalid said as he gestured at the empty loops on his belt, "and ah, most, yes, most of my healing salves as well.   I have few offensive spells left to, ah, make matters worse.  Yes, quite."

	Gorak grunted in agreement.  "Me either.  Got these healing scrolls we lifted from the cleric in Shalazar, and one more healing spell.  Might as well use 'em up now so we're in some sort of state to fight."

	Khalid noted as the thick vellum scroll burned away into ash that Gorak was kind enough to use the cleric's magic, which seemed considerably less painful, on Shayla.  As he finished, Shayla spoke up.  "Well, I've still got most of my power left, since I didn't get a chance to do much before," her voice hitched a little, then she continued, "before I was mauled."

	Gorak squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.  "Alright," he growled, "let's redistribute these potions.  Gimme those weaker salves, and you two take the ones I made, just in case."

	Khalid slid a vial into one of the holders on his belt.  "Ah, so are we going to attempt to break out now?" he asked hesitantly.

	Gorak absently scratched at his scalp as he considered their options.  "There's a lot of them out there right now, and that big bastard might still be around.  I don't think there's any way they can block up the tunnel in the next few hours, so lets give things a chance to settle down."

	Khalid and Shayla nodded in agreement, and settled down to rest.   The next thing Khalid knew, Gorak was shaking him awake.

	"Ah, what?" Khalid asked blearily, as he tried to shake the fog from his mind."  "What's going on?"

	"It's been a coupla hours.  There's only two of them out there than I can see," he replied.  Then he stood up and stretched his arms over his head, as if he were trying to touch the upper boundaries of the spell.  "Say, how big is this thing?" he asked.

	"Ah, why do you ask?" Khalid responded as he shook Shayla awake and began to buckle on the large belt that held his potions and spell components.

	"I've got a few tricks left," Gorak growled.  "Is it big enough to hold a horse?"

	"Ah, yes, quite, although it may be a bit, yes, a bit crowded."

	Gorak nodded.  "We just about ready?" he grunted.

	"One second," Shayla replied.  Chanting quickly she tossed a glowing caliph to Khalid.  "Okay, let's do this."

	"Gimme some room." Gorak said as he waved them back.  "Khalid, remember, we've gotta keep 'em off Shayla while she blasts a path through them.  Stay close and keep moving forward."

	Khalid swallowed nervously as he cocked his crossbow with shaking hands.  As Gorak began to chant in his thick guttural voice, Khalid loosened the strap that bound his small dagger in its sheath.  Kneeling down, he grasped the rope and prepared to open the portal.

	As Gorak finished his spell, the air in the center of the room shimmered and a large beast appeared.  It had the thick, powerful body of a horse but its feet and head were those of a giant eagle.  Khalid had never seen a hippogriff before, although he knew that sometimes they were brought into the arena in Gem-Sharad, and he studied the animal closely as it shook its ruffled mane and flexed its wings.

	"Alright," Gorak grunted.  "Open the gate."

	Khalid tossed the rope through, then was brushed aside as the hippogriff lunged forward, dropping out of the portal right on top of a hapless guard.  The giant beast pinned the unfortunate goblin to the ground with one huge talon and closed its beaked maw on his head with a sickening crunch.

	Shayla, without waiting for Gorak or Khalid, followed the hippogriff out of the extradimensional space.  Seeing another guard, she began to chant immediately as Gorak and Khalid dropped to the ground.  The goblin, his eyes wide with fear, turned to hammer on the large wooden door, then staggered forward as Shayla's lancets of force struck him in the back and burst through his chest, sending a spray of blood across the wooden planks.  The goblins thick fingernails dug deep scratches into the wood as he slowly slid to the ground in a lifeless heap.

	Khalid whirled around, searching for the next threat.  Surprisingly, the tunnel was empty.  Gorak, with a silent command, sent the hippogriff ranging ahead of them.  Unable to fly in the tight confines of the mine, the creature bounded down the hallway with a strange hopping gait.  With a jerk of his head, Gorak indicated that they should follow.  Not needing any encouragement, Khalid hurried after him as they fled into the darkness, and the dubious safety of the deep mines.

* * * * * * * * * *​
	For the third time in as many days, the question "Now what?" echoed through the tiny pocket dimension.  This time Shayla posed it as she shrugged off her pack and sat down.

	Gorak, who was stretched out on the floor, propped himself up on his elbows.  "I say we take the fight to Malakai.  Kick down his door and cause a little havoc."

	"That's your answer for everything."  Shayla countered, in mock disgust.  "If it was up to you, there wouldn't be a door left standing from here to Shalazar."  She flashed him one of her sunburst smiles that was returned with a toothy grin.

	Against his better instincts, Khalid was forced to agree.  "Ah, I think that perhaps, yes, perhaps that is the best course of action."

	Shayla and Gorak both turned and looked at Khalid, surprise plainly evident on their faces.  "Ah, well, it would be unexpected," Khalid continued, somewhat defensively.  "They are not likely, yes, not likely at all to venture out here any more, after, ah, the losses they've suffered.  If we were to hit them within the confines of their own sanctuary, we may break their nerve and cause them to flee.  Yes, quite."

	Gorak nodded.  "I can open that door as easy as I jammed it shut.  We can do a little hit and run, get out before Malakai shows up.  If we hafta square off against him again, I wanna be fully prepared."

	"Yes, quite," Khalid agreed.  "It might even be better if we hide within, yes, within the goblin complex itself."

	"Malakai knows how we got away last time," Shayla pointed out.

	"Yes, quite.  But ah, presuming that you incinerated their only witch doctor, as long as we are out of sight, he may not be able to locate us."

	"Risky," Gorak grunted.  "But I like it."

	"You would," Shayla shot back, "but I'm not convinced.  We'll see how things go."

	"Indeed."

* * * * * * * * * *​
	Khalid kept the light carefully hidden as they crept through the darkness.  The caves were ominously quiet and all three were alert for any sign of ambush.  As they approached the bend in the tunnel, just before the wooden door, Shayla held up her hand.  "Emma says it's clear the rest of the way to the door."

	Gorak nodded and moved forward, abandoning stealth for speed.  He glanced back over his shoulder and growled, "Get ready."

	Khalid tensed up.  He was certain that there would be guards on the other side of the door, and it was his responsibility to deal with them.  As Gorak began to chant, his rough voice shockingly loud in the silence of the mines, Khalid reached into a pouch at his waist and drew out a tiny pinch of pure white sand.

	Gorak finished his spell and touched the wooden door.  As the planks shriveled beneath his touch, he leaned back and shattered the door with a powerful kick, sending splintered wood spinning into the tunnel beyond.

	Khalid leaned past him, spotting two surprised goblins tossing dice behind an enormous ballista that was cocked, loaded and pointed straight at Gorak.  The two guards scrambled to their feet as Khalid launched into his spell, fervently hoping it would affect both goblins.  He breathed a sigh of relief as they both toppled over.

	Shayla moved quickly into the tunnel beyond the door, her crossbow at the ready as she scanned for more goblins.  Gorak stepped in behind her and sent the snoring guards into oblivion with two quick swings of his club.

	The air in this part of the mining complex was considerably warmer, a product of the smelting operation, Khalid suspected.  From further down the tunnels echoed the sounds of industry, which seemed to have covered their initial assault.  Gorak crept forward with Shayla in tow, while Khalid paused to disarm the ballista.  The siege weapon had been mounted on wheels and placed upon the rails that lined the floor, allowing the cunning goblins to move it easily through the complex.  Fearful that they would face it again, Khalid unloaded it but couldn't figure any way to cut the huge cable without risking life or limb.  Frustrated, he simply gathered up the bolts and brought them with him to where Shayla and Gorak had stopped, at an intersection further down the tunnel.

	Gorak was pressed up against the left side of the tunnel, laying flat on his stomach.  Slowly he inched forward, peering around the corner down the side passage.  Seeing nothing, he waved Khalid and Shayla past the intersection, then clambered to his feet and followed.

	The tunnel branched again to the right another twenty feet down the central path.  This time Gorak turned down the passage.  He stopped abruptly ten feet down the tunnel with a sharp intake of breath.  Khalid, following close behind, almost gagged as an overpowering stench of decay washed over him.  Gorak motioned to Khalid to shine the light down the passage.  Covering his nose with the sleeve of his robe, Khalid allowed a stream of light to squeeze from the coin enclosed in his fist and swept it down the hallway.  The first thing he noticed were the rusty bars that blocked the tunnel, bound by a large iron lock.  Within the cell were piles of refuse and a rotting corpse.  Chained to the far wall was another body, which Khalid mistook for a corpse until it opened its eyes.  Filthy rags barely covered the poor unfortunate's emaciated form.  Thick grey hair, matted with filth completely covered the man's face.

	As Shayla moved up beside Khalid, with her hand firmly pressed over her nose, her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed.  She turned to Khalid and Gorak and mouthed the word, "Dwerro."

Khalid nodded, then hesitated only briefly before drawing out his waterskin and tossing it at the Dwerro's feet.  Gorak placed a hand on his shoulder and then threw in a package of trail rations before moving back down the passage with Shayla.  Khalid turned to leave, then stopped.  Slowly drawing out his small dagger from its sheath, he tossed it hilt first to the Dwerro.  Although he wasn't sure the Dwerro could understand him, or indeed, was still sane, he whispered, "Ah, we will return for you, yes, if we can."  He thought the Dwerro nodded once, but in the failing light, he may have just slumped down into unconsciousness.

	Khalid rejoined Gorak and Shayla at the end of the side passage and whispered, "Ah, perhaps we should head back, explore that other branch and ensure, yes, ensure that there aren't more behind us."

	Gorak nodded and they backtracked down the main passage.  As they turned the corner into the first passage, their luck finally ran out.  Standing in the middle of the passage were two surprised looking goblins in full armor.

	Shayla reacted without hesitation, flinging out a handful of glowing discs with a flick of her wrist and an arcane word.  As one of the guards raised his arms to protect his fact, a glittering disc took off his hand at the wrist, even as another buried itself in his throat.  With a gurgling sigh, the goblin toppled to the ground.  The disc however merely grazed the other guard as he flinched aside.  With a shriek, the goblin turned and fled back down the tunnel.

	Gorak sprinted after him, scooping up the dead goblin's spear on the way past.  Reversing it in his hand, he rounded the corner into a tunnel that paralleled the main passage.  With a roar, he drew back and hurled the spear, impaling the fleeing goblin.

	Shayla, right on his heels, entered the passage and turned the opposite way, facing back deeper into the mines.  Dropping to a knee she fired her crossbow, killing one of a pair of goblins guarding a small wooden door.  As Khalid came around the corner, the other goblin dove for cover into a small side chamber.  Confident he could deal with one lone goblin, Khalid moved past Shayla and said, "Ah, follow Gorak."*

	Shayla, a bolt gripped in her teeth, nodded as she cocked her crossbow with a quick jerk and then sprinted after the rampaging half-orc.  Khalid's confidence vanished abruptly however, as a bolt skipped off the stone inches from his face when he peered around the corner into the tiny guardroom.  The goblin had taken cover behind an overturned table and was frantically reloading his crossbow.  Khalid drew back to prepare a spell, then suddenly thought of a better idea.  Drawing a glass vial from his belt, he leaned around the corner and flicked the vial not at the goblin, but at the ceiling above him.  The vial shattered and a deluge of liquid flame poured down upon the hapless goblin.  Thick black smoke billowed out of the room, followed by the shrieks of the unfortunate goblin, which thankfully ended quickly.

	Khalid turned to see Gorak and Shayla jogging back down the tunnel.  "We'd better get moving," Gorak growled between labored breaths.  "It sounds like they're getting organized."  Khalid drew back the heavy deadbolt that barred the door.  As he opened it, Gorak grabbed his shoulder.  "Wait," he growled.  "Let's set up in there." He indicated the smoke filled guardroom with a jerk of his head.

	Khalid hesitated for only a second before following Shayla and Gorak into the room.  Stepping over the charred remains of the goblin, Khalid opened the extradimensional space and climbed in.  He exhaled slowly as Gorak and Shayla entered, relaxing somewhat as the imminent threat was lifted.  Still grinning, Gorak dumped his pack on the ground and rumbled, "That went well."

	"Ah, yes, quite."  Khalid agreed.  "Exactly as planned.  What did you find further down the tunnel?"

	"Warrens," Gorak grunted.  "Fulla women and goblin spawn.  No more guards, but it sounded like there were still a bunch of 'em further in."

	"How many more soldiers do you think they can send at us?" Shayla asked.

	Gorak shrugged.  "Hard to say.  Not many if Jalaal's numbers were right.  Either way, we'll find out soon enough."

	"Indeed," Khalid thought to himself as he curled up in his bedroll.  Although he fell asleep relatively quickly, images of countless goblin hordes all thirsting for his blood, haunted his dreams until Gorak nudged him awake.

	Khalid sat upright, unsure of where he was for a moment.  The pale grey luminance quickly brought him back to reality.  He was about to ask what was for breakfast, when Gorak's grim expression chased away all hints of mirth.  With an uneasy feeling, he asked instead, "Ah, how long has it been?"

	"Six," Gorak grunted, "maybe seven hours.  You'd better take a look at this.  Shayla, gimme some light."

	Shayla, who was already awake and armed, cast the simple cantrip and wordlessly handed Gorak a glowing coin.  Squeezing it tightly in his fist, Gorak nudged the rope out of the portal with the toe of his boot, opening the gate.  He thrust his hand through the portal and allowed a thin stream of light to illuminate the floor.  Shayla, leaning forward in curiosity uttered a startled gasp, and Khalid felt an icy fear seize his heart as he considered the terrible implication of what lay below.  Scrawled on the floor in drying blood were five simple words: I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE.**

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:
Okay, so basically the first part of the goblin complex is like an H with the two wooden doors at the bottom.  There are two parallel passages that lead in from the actual mines.  When I mention a 'smaller wooden door' it's pretty much level with the big double doors we smashed down.  The right side of the H is the main passage, and the dwerro's cell is off of it.  The middle - is where we ran into the guards.  Further up the left side were a bunch of goblin warrens, and a few other surprises.  Further up the right side...well, that's where all the fun happens later .  At the end of the post, we're camped out in a small guard room at the bottom of the left passage.  Heh I don't know if that clarified anything, or just made it worse...

**This was a good plan right up until the point it wasn't.  It's also a prime example of what happens when you have 3 weeks in between games.  We completely forgot that Malakai could track us by scent in wolf form.  Add that to the fact he knew how we escaped and the plan was doomed from the start...

***Lastly, we did realize that Malakai wasn't exactly an ordinary goblin, but I failed *yet* another knowledge planes check.  As a player, I had a fairly good idea of what he was, thanks to a penchant for R.A. Salvatore novels in the bygone days of my youth...Still, since I haven't looked at the 3.5 MM entry in any detail, I still have no idea what all he's capable of...


----------



## pogre

Welcome back and thanks for the update!


----------



## Guillaume

Good update.  As any fan worth its salt would say: "When is the next one ?"


----------



## The Axe

Bumped, for easy updating 

(*wink*)


----------



## EternalNewbie

Bad news once again, I'm afraid.  As a result of passing a second round of exams, I once again have to leave town and head to Toronto for a two week training seminar.  The next update is in the works, but since I'm leaving this afternoon, well...

Anyhow, I'll probably have time to work on it while I'm down there, so you can start haranguing me for a post when I get back, on the 7th.


----------



## The Axe

D'oh!


----------



## The Axe

Bump


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

Well, it seems that things are winding down for a while.  Our dear DM, Galeman is moving out of the city to go to teachers College. *sigh*  So we'll only get to play again during intermittent visits.  

On the bright side, there is still tonnes of material for Eternal Newbie to post! (If he'd ever get around to it...maybe he needs some subtle persuasion...)

There is still lots of fun stuff to come, so stay tuned!


----------



## Galeman

well it seems that without the creative inspiration drving these stories out of the city that this story hour has fallen into general obscurity.  which is too bad because it was pretty good.  i suggest regularly bugging eternalnewbie until he posts again.  i'll start to give out rewards for the most inspiring taunt, such as: a key to the newb's house, the newb's very own PIN and other great prizes that would make him just a little uncomfortable about not posting regurlarly.


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## pogre

BUMP

hmmm... PIN or Keys, PIN or Keys? Decisions. Decisions.


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## The Axe

Hey, EternalNewbie, don't make us go all Horatio on yer butt...


----------



## EternalNewbie

Well, it's been an interesting summer.  I finally finished the last of the exams I had to  write this year, which as you may have noticed slowed down the pace of my updates to the point of stagnation.  Writing practice exams for 6 hours a day for the last 5 weeks kind of dampened my enthusiam for recreational writing.  However, I'm back at work now and I should be able to get on a regular schedule again...so I thought.

Evidently half of my office quit while I was off (admittedly, it's a small office, but still...) so when I returned, I was handed a job that took 3 weeks to complete last year, and told to do it in 2.  Until I got to the clients, of course, at which point I was informed I had 1.  So here I am, at work, on Saturday morning...

Anyhow, hopefully things will settle down soon.  I am, (and have been for the last 2 months) working on another update, but it's slow going.  Once I get this job done, maybe I'll have a little more time to work on it.


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## Galeman

your excuses won't save you newb!  i'm still giving your house key to pogre and the axe has won second prize of your PIN.  congrats to all the winners and hopefully we'll have such a lovely turnout again next year.


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## LRathbun

Real life always comes first. But, by way of encouragement, we are anctiously waiting for the story to resume.


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## pogre

I have very little patience for authors who do not post story hour updates at least weekly! Frankly, this is getting ridiculous and these "real life" excuses are tedious as well.

oh wait... I'm talking about me   

Good luck on work and stuff


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## The Axe

*Ummmm....*

Is it too late for another bump?


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## Bill Muench

Nope! Bump! I was just thinking about this story hour the other day when I was catching up on things.


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## EternalNewbie

Never under estimate the power of a good bump.

Well, that cliffhanger almost became a bottomless pit.  I'll spare you my excuses and by way of apology, offer up my longest post to date.  So if there's anybody left out there, I hope you enjoy reading this part as much as we enjoyed playing it.

PS:  It's a bit gruesome in places.  I don't think it's that bad, but just thought I'd put up the warning.

* * * * * * * * * *​
"How did he find us?" Shayla asked, a hint of panic creeping into her voice.

"Don't matter," Gorak growled.  "He did.  Now we've gotta figure out how we're gonna get out of here."

	"Maybe we can bargain our way out," Shayla suggested.

	"Not likely," Gorak grunted.  "We've done too much damage and he's already sent us running once.  He'll want blood for sure.  Khalid, whadda ya think?"

	"Ah, I think, yes, I think I need to prepare," Khalid replied as he pulled out his spell book.  His thoughts, whirling with panic and indecision, settled at the familiar touch of the worn leather cover.  The worries and fear faded away as he pored over the familiar words and formulas.  When he finally closed the book, he felt somewhat reassured, despite the danger they were about to face.

	Gorak, seeing Khalid look up, stopped his restless pacing and growled, "How much time we got left in here?"

	Khalid concentrated, picking up the lingering weaves of the spell.  "Ah, half an hour, maybe less."

	"We'd better do this," Gorak rumbled.  "At least we'll be able to retreat for a little while, if we need to regroup."

	"Ah, are you ready?" Khalid asked.

	"If I had a chance to meditate, I'd probably have switched things up a bit.  But I don't imagine Malakai's gonna hold off for an hour while I beg the spirits of sand and stone for the power to kick his arse, so I'll make do.  Besides, I'm always ready for a fight."  He grinned and cuffed Khalid on the shoulder

	Khalid wished he had Gorak's bravado as he drew out a scroll and cast a protective spell upon himself.  Shayla did likewise, girding her body in bands of glowing magical armor.

	"Alright, here's the plan," Gorak growled as he fished Sousee out of her wicker basket, and draped her around his neck.  "They're gonna be waiting for us out in that hallway.  Works out well, cuz it's a pretty good bottleneck.  They'll only be able to get at us one at a time."  He paused for a second to cast a spell.  As he finished, his skin lost its obsidian sheen and small ridges and cracks began to form on his face as his skin slowly took on the texture of rough bark.  "I'm gonna get this party started," he continued, "by summoning a little help.  Khalid, you're crowd control.  Shayla, you dump everything you have on Malakai when he shows up."

	"Ah, yes, and what will you be doing?" Khalid asked, although he already had a fair idea.

	Gorak grinned and patted the cudgel at his waist.  "Tenderizing any goblin that gets in my way.  I wouldn't get too close, or you'll probably get some on ya."  Then he checked the straps on his shield, giving them one final tug for good measure.  Rumbling off the divine words of a summoning spell, he finished with a hooking gesture as the air in front of him shimmered.  A small stumpy ball of rock, with thick legs and short, stubby arms appeared.  It regarded Gorak silently with its glittering, gemlike eyes as he nudged the rope out and opened the portal.

	Gorak dropped down through the gate, followed closely by the small elemental.  Shayla went next, landing gracefully on the ground beside him.  As Khalid emerged, Gorak gestured and the small elemental began to slide towards the hall, sinking into the ground as it moved.  Shield raised cautiously, Gorak edged towards the doorway and peered around the corner.  Then with a roar that rattled Khalid's already frayed nerves, he charged out into the hallway.  Shayla, with a curse, followed him, straight into a hail of arrows that sent her diving for cover.  Khalid, panicked now to almost incoherence, crept towards the door and glanced down the hallway, his eyes widening in fear at the force arrayed before them.  Jammed into the hallway were dozens of armed goblins, howling for blood.  Fifteen feet from the doorway was the source of Gorak's reckless charge: the goblins had wheeled the enormous ballista in from the main hallway, and had it lined up to skewer them.

	For once, however, luck was with them.   Gorak's elemental had emerged from the earth directly beneath the goblin operating the ballista, sending it sprawling backwards into its companions, and was now inexorably bludgeoning it to death with its stony fists.  Gorak, recognizing the danger, had charged forward and crashed into the ballista with his full weight, rocking it backwards and twisting it so it pointed harmlessly towards the wall.  He was now hunkered down behind the wooden frame with his back against it, bracing his shield against the wall to give himself some cover against the rain of goblin bolts that continued to whiz past.  Sousee slithered down across his legs, and then began to rise up, swaying slightly from side to side as she waited for the goblins to approach.  Khalid, stepping back into the chamber, began to intone a complex summoning ritual, his wavering voice strengthening behind the words of power.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Shayla shriek out a string of arcane words as she stood up and flung a handful of glittering discs into the goblin horde, felling two goblins, and grievously injuring a third.

	"Get down!" Gorak roared, seizing Shayla by the belt and dragging her to the ground as another volley of bolts sailed through the air.  He then lashed out with his club, and smashed the fingers of a goblin that had managed to squeeze past the elemental and was clambering over the ballista.

	Khalid, his voice rising with the culmination of the spell, reached out and beckoned a creature from the lower hells.  For a second, the arcane compulsion felt weak and tenuous.  Feeling the magic begin to slip away, Khalid focused his will and dragged the howling devil out of the abyss and into the hallway.  With a snarl, the tiny, misshapen monstrosity, the same breed they had battled in Shalazar, surged forward behind the faltering elemental and tore into the goblins.  The elemental fought on, implacably advancing on the goblins, despite the overwhelming press of enemies.  A goblin spear smashed in one of its faceted eyes and as it turned to attack, another goblin leaped forward and buried his axe deep in the elemental's torso.  With a shuddering groan and the sound of grinding rock, the elemental slowly crumbled into dust as more goblins surged in to fill the gap.   

	Shayla screamed then, directing Khalid's attention to the corpulent figure of Malakai, who had emerged from a room at the end of the hall.  His red skin shining in the flickering torchlight, the foul goblin raised his hand and pointed directly at Gorak.

	"What's going on?" Gorak growled as he twisted around to get a better look.  Then, his eyes glazed over and he slumped to the ground. The goblins, feeling Gorak's resistance falter, began to twist the ballista back into firing position.  Sousee, seeing a goblin hand get a little too close, lashed out and sunk her fangs into the goblins arm.  The goblin shrieked and collapsed, convulsing on the ground as the snake's venom coursed through his blood.  With a snarl and a shake of his head, Gorak fought off Malakai's insidious magic and regained his senses.  Seizing the ballista, he wrenched it free of the goblins grasp and twisted it completely around.  The caves echoed with the sound of the thick cable releasing, as Gorak hauled back on the trigger.  Goblins dove frantically out of the way as the yard long shaft shot down the hallway.  Although Gorak hadn't really aimed, the tight confines and press of bodies in the tunnels spelt doom for a hapless goblin near the back.  Realizing too late what was happening, the unfortunate goblin barely had time to raise his feeble wooden shield before the bolt slammed into him, sending his broken body sailing through the air to land in a crumpled heap at Malakai's feet.  With a stream of invectives, Malakai kicked at the lifeless corpse, sending it crashing into the wall as he extolled his horde to renew their attack.

	Shayla quickly took advantage of the confusion to cast another spell, this time sending lancets of force streaking down the hall to sink into Malakai's fat stomach.  To her dismay, he barely seemed to acknowledge the bleeding wounds as he ordered more goblin warriors into the fight.

	Khalid, considering his next move, watched with mounting concern as goblins swarmed over the tiny devil.  But the lemure, possessed an infernal resilience, ignored the feeble goblin weapons and gutted one with a savage flurry of talons.  As the wounded goblin staggered away down the side passage, the lemure, in its mindless rage pursued.  From the shrieks and cries of pain that followed, Khalid could only assume the tiny devil was reveling in its task.*

Realizing that without the lemure to shield them, the goblins would quickly overrun the ballista and overwhelm Gorak, Khalid crawled out into the hallway on his hands and knees.  Reaching into his spell component pouch, he began to cast one of his favorite spells.  As he raised his arm to flick a handful of sand in the goblins direction, he almost lost his concentration as a bolt tore a neat hole in the sleeve of his robes.   Dropping flat to the floor, Khalid finished his spell.  Although he could not see past Gorak and Shayla, Malakai's frustrated cursing told him that his spell had been at least partially successful.  For a moment, the din of battle subsided, as half dozen goblins in the front ranks tumbled to the ground in unnatural slumber.  The respite was brief however, as more goblins surged forward to take the place of the fallen, and Gorak had to squirm away from thrusting spears as the goblins attempted to drive him away from the make shift barricade.

	"Somebody tell me what's going on!" Gorak roared as he dug in his heels and attempted to stop the goblins from driving the ballista backwards down the hall, pinning them against the thick oaken door at the end of the tunnel.  

	"Malakai's gone," Shayla yelled above the noise of battle, "and there's more goblins coming!"

	"Of course there are," Gorak snarled as he launched into a spell.  One of the goblins levered his spear under Sousee, and shoved her back down the hallway, away from the ballista.  The unfortunate goblin's timing couldn't have been worse, as he squeezed around the ballista just as Gorak's spell finished.  The goblin began to frantically scramble backwards as Gorak's hand burst into flame.  Reaching out, Gorak grabbed the shrieking goblin by the face with his flaming hand and shoved him backward over the ballista, where he was promptly trampled. 

	"Malakai's back!" Shayla cried as she immediately began to cast.  Knowing what was coming, Khalid grinned slightly as he pushed himself up on his elbows to peer down the hallway.  He could feel the heat pouring off Shayla, as she drew upon her most powerful magicks.  With a final word, she pointed straight at Malakai and a white-hot gout of flame shot from her hand, streaking towards the corpulent goblin.

The grin vanished from Khalid's face, as the spell passed harmlessly through the spot Malakai had occupied a second ago.  Shayla shrieked in frustration as her spell scorched the back wall of the tunnel. 

"He's gone!"  Shayla screamed.  "He just vanished."

Then, a split second later, the fat goblin blinked back into view, grinning evilly as he spit out a few arcane words.  The goblins surrounding him gave a bone chilling cheer, and then redoubled their attacks with unbelievable ferocity.  A berserking warrior, with a grace belied by his corpulent girth, lunged over the top of the ballista and landed on the other side.  His scream of triumph was cut short by one of Gorak's searing missiles that blasted a hole clear through the goblin's back.  The raging goblin stared down stupidly at the smoking hole in his chest, then toppled over dead. 

Shayla clambered forward, over Khalid's cowering form, until she was almost even with Gorak, trying to bring Malakai back within the range of her devastating magick.  Watching him carefully, Shayla chose her moment and screamed out the words of power as she leapt to her feet.  Once more, a jet of white flame streaked from her fingertips and again the fat goblin vanished an instant before the spell would have consumed him.

"I can't hurt him," Shayla practically sobbed as she dropped flat to the ground.  "Gorak, what do I do?" she begged, tears streaming down her face. "What do I do?"

"Fight damn you," Gorak roared, "We're not finished yet.  Khalid, you son of a whore, do something!"

Khalid, who had sought to maximize the effects of his next spell by biding his time, heeded Gorak's call to action.  As he finished the incantation, a tiny spark drifted from the tip of his finger and exploded with the brightness of a dozen suns above the heads of the attacking goblins.  The screams of rage turned to howls of terror as the glittering dust that rained down robbed them off their sight.  Dazed and blinded, the goblins in the front ranks stumbled over their sleeping companions as they tried to flee back down the tunnel.  The press of those behind trapped them against the ballista, and for a brief moment, utter confusion reigned.

Gorak took advantage of the lull to leap to his feet and cast one of his last burning spheres down the hallway at Malakai, but his magic, like Shayla's, was ineffectual as the fat goblin vanished once again.

Khalid, recognizing an opportunity to turn the tide of the battle, screamed out.  "Shayla, get back! Get away from the ballista!"

Shayla, a look of utter hopelessness on her face, mumbled out the words to a spell as she retreated down the hallway.  Three spinning blades arced away from her hands.  The first two missiles passed harmlessly through air as Malakai's magic whisked him away.  But the third blade, slightly trailing the other two sheered deeply into Malakai's muscular shoulder as he popped back into view.  The transformation was instantaneous.  Shayla's eyes widened in surprise, and Khalid could see her fiery spirit burn away the despair that had consumed her when she realized that she was not helpless, that she could indeed wound this fearsome beast.

Seizing the last shreds of his tattered courage, Khalid stepped forward into the spot vacated by Shayla and extended his hands over the ballista.  Arcane words rippled from his tongue as he cast his most damaging spell. Although it had served him well in the past, Khalid was completely unprepared for the carnage that followed.  The whirling maelstrom of scorching cinders fanned out in front of him and the tunnel instantly filled with choking smoke and the over powering reek of burning flesh.  The goblins in the front rank, both those that were blinded, and those still slumbering on the floor were instantly immolated, the flesh seared from their bones.  For a second, there was only the crackle of flames, then the screams of the dying ripped through the cavern.   Gasping for air and half blinded by the smoke, Khalid sagged against the cavern wall as Gorak pushed past him and leapt over the ballista, his cudgel in hand and a war cry on his lips.**

The remaining goblins, their ranks decimated by Khalid's magic and facing an enemy that had repelled their most brutal attacks, wavered at the sight of this fearsome warrior, his eyes wild with bloodlust and his face split by a terrible grin, emerging from the smoke and haze.  They might have broken then, had not Malakai winked back into existence.  At the sight of their cruel overlord, the last of the goblin warriors readied their weapons and formed up in ranks around him, resignation and fear clearly etched upon their twisted features.

Khalid steeled himself for the final battle, and as the clinging smoke eddied and whirled around them, he gazed straight into the eyes of his adversary.  In them he saw fathomless hate and in that moment, Khalid saw his death.  Then incredibly, the rage vanished and was replaced by something Khalid had never expected to see on the twisted features of the enormous goblin.  Fear.

Shayla stepped forward out of the swirling smoke and uttered the final word of her spell.  Having guessed the timing of Malakai's spell perfectly, she had begun to cast the instant he had disappeared.  Never before had Khalid felt such power.  His skin began to redden and blister even before she finished the spell.  The flame that streaked out from her hand was blinding, and as it flew past Gorak, several of his matted dreadlocks curled from the heat and fell to the floor.  The gout of flame struck Malakai in the left side of his chest.  His skin melted away as the ray of fire burned clear through the thick muscles of his neck.  His face blackened instantly beneath the onslaught and his left eye boiled in its socket.  With a shriek of unspeakable pain, Malakai staggered backwards, crashing into the wall of the cave.  Clutching at his wounded face, Malakai slumped down, his tortured scream fading into a wheezing gasp.  Hope, bright and quick, surged through Khalid as their foe succumbed.***

It was quenched in an instant as the goblin Malakai exerted impossible, inhuman willpower.   Slowly, he rose to his feet, and removed his hands from his ruined face.  Shreds of smoking flesh peeled away with his hands, and dripped onto the floor.   The sight of his terrible visage paralyzed Khalid.  The smoking socket of his vacant left eye was horrid reflection of the smoldering rage in his right.  The bones of his cheek had been laid bare, and through a cavernous hole, Khalid could see the goblin's thick tongue.  With a supreme effort, Malakai attempted to speak.  The words were thick and heavy, barely more than a gurgling sigh.  Turning his head slightly, Malakai vomited out a gobbet of flesh and blood.  Regarding the three adventures with his one good eye, Khalid could feel the hate rolling off the creature in almost physical waves.  Again the goblin opened his mouth. This time the word was clear and strong.  It was a word of power, laced with magic and the very sound of it sent icy knives through Khalid's very soul.  As it reverberated through the tunnels, the air beside Malakai seemed to rend and tear as through snared by some invisible talon.  As the last echoes of his spell faded from the tunnels, Malakai stepped into the rift and vanished.

Utter silence descended on the tunnels.  Khalid stared at the spot Malakai had just vanished from, half fearful the goblin would return and destroy them all, and half hoping he would reappear so they could end it, once and for all.  A sharp report, like a peal of thunder, split the silence and shook Khalid free of his dreadful fascination.  Gorak, unshaken as always, had casually cracked the skull of one of the goblins in front of him with his cudgel, spraying the warriors behind with brains and gore.  Abandoned by their commander, and facing foes beyond their measure, the remaining goblins turned and fled shrieking down the tunnel.

Pausing for only a moment, the three took stock of their condition.  Remarkably, Khalid and Shayla had emerged unscathed, although both were physically and mentally exhausted.   Glancing at Gorak, Khalid realized with a start that the he had a bolt sticking out of his thigh.  He hadn't even realized that Gorak had been wounded.  Neither had the half-orc evidently.  He was scanning the passages warily, looking for the next threat.  "Ah, Gorak," Khalid stuttered, almost afraid to draw the half-orc's attention to the wound, "perhaps, yes, perhaps you should, ah, remove that?"

Gorak looked at Khalid, then glanced down at his leg and grunted in surprise.  His leather breeches were red with blood, although the bleeding seemed to have slowed.  "Got no healing spells left," Gorak grumbled as he snapped the shaft in two with his thumb.  He grimaced slightly as he bound the protruding wood carefully with a strip of cloth torn from his cloak.  "If I yank it out now, I'll probably bleed to death."  He gave a sharp intake of breath as he tied the knot on his makeshift bandage.  "I'll be fine.  How 'r you two doing?"

"Ah, unhurt, it would seem.  Yes, quite."

"I'm okay," Shayla added.  "But I'm almost outta juice."

Khalid nodded in agreement.  All that remained in his repertoire were some of his most minor defensive spells, and a few cantrips.  Only two scrolls remained on his belt, and he had been carefully guarding those against an emergency.

"So," Shayla continued, "now what do we do?"

"Back into the mines," Gorak growled.  "Rest and regroup."  He frowned then, a look of concern darkening his features.  "But I dunno how we're gonna beat that bastard if he can just vanish any time he gets hurt."

"Ah, I'm not sure he can," Khalid replied, his mind turning over the idea.  Gorak grunted and motioned for him to continue.

"Ah, yes, well, if he could do that at will, he could have easily appeared behind, yes, behind us during the fight and attacked Shayla.  Yes, quite.  I think perhaps, yes, perhaps his powers are limited and that he may have exhausted them.  Ah, yes, I think we should pursue him, and finish it now while he is weakened and, ah, near death.  Yes, quite."  Khalid was almost as shocked as Gorak and Shayla at the words coming out of his mouth.

Gorak considered it for a second, and then grinned.  "I like it.  Let's kill the bastard and get out of these cursed mines.  Shayla?"

Shayla looked doubtful.  She ran her hand through her tangled auburn curls, now stained black with soot, and frowned. "I'm drained.  I haven't got much left, but if it's what you think is best, let's go."

A decision reached, they set out further into the goblin complex, down the tunnel they were in.  Khalid immediately began to second-guess himself as the tunnel branched off into several chambers.  Gorak led the way, motioning for the others to stay back as he peered into the first of the rooms.  Khalid could see him tense up but not receiving any indication that a battle was forthcoming, Khalid peered around him into the room.  Cowering in the far corners of the room were filthy goblin women and tiny squalling whelps.  Seeing no sign of immediate danger, Khalid started to move further down the tunnel, when he realized that Gorak wasn't following.  Turning, he saw Gorak still standing in the entrance to the goblin warren, he's lips drawn back in a feral snarl, his cudgel clutched tightly in a hand that trembled with barely contained bloodlust.

Khalid had no love for goblins, but he had an absolute hatred for these caverns and had no desire to spend any more time in them than he absolutely had to.  "Ah, Gorak," he hissed. "We have more pressing matters at hand.  Yes, quite."

Gorak shook his head like a dog coming out of water, and grunted as he pushed past Khalid to take the lead once more.  They passed several more rooms, each filled with goblin spawn.  As they pushed deeper into the stronghold, they could hear the sounds of frantic activity echoing through the tunnels.  Ahead, the tunnel turned sharply to the left and as they followed it around the bend, a powerful stench of offal washed over them.

"Goblin jakes," Shayla gagged. "I don't think I can imagine anything worse."  She drew a silken scarf from her pack and wound it tightly around her nose and mouth.  

Khalid would have agreed, if the image of Malakai's ruined face not been fresh in his mind.  He buried his nose in the crook of his arm and pushed forward, following Gorak deeper into the hideous stench.  Almost immediately his eyes began to water and he struggled for breath.  Gorak, as always, seemed unaffected by any physical hardship and turned around another corner, into a large room filled with rotting garbage and excrement.

Stopping, Gorak peered ahead into the darkness.  "I think I see a tunnel back there.  What he did mighta been nothing but a fancy trick to distract us as he fled down an escape..."

Gorak's words were cut short as a large pile of offal in the far corner of the room burst into motion.  He ducked as a huge tentacle swept past his head, smacking against the wall beside him and leaving a thick trail of slime behind.  Gorak darted out of the room even as Shayla stepped forward and began to cast a spell.  Whatever creature was buried within the pile of garbage was faster than she expected as another tentacle snaked out and wrapped around her, spoiling her spell.  With a grace born of terror, Shayla spun in the same direction the tentacle and slipped from its grasp before it could tighten and draw her into the fanged maw of the hideous thing lurking in the corner.  With a thick warbling cry of annoyance the creature lashed out again.

Khalid was certain that Shayla, still off balance from the thing's first grab at her, would be smashed against the wall.  Incredibly, even as she was still spinning away, she leaned far over planting a hand on the ground and somersaulted over the sweeping tentacle, landing beside Khalid and Gorak, just out of reach.

Wasting no time, Khalid darted back down the tunnel, with Gorak and Shayla in close pursuit.  The creature made no move to leave its filthy nest however, and did not pursue them.  Shayla stopped, and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.  Looking down, her eyes widened in horror at the thick slime that coated her.  She made a motion to wipe it off, but that only served to smear it and coat her hand in the foul smelling ichor.

Gorak snarled. "Serves you right!" he exploded.  "What in the nine hells were you doing?  Did that look like Malakai?"  He glared at her and she shook her head wordlessly.   Gorak looked like he was ready to start yelling again, then slowly mastered himself.  "We only fight Malakai," he said in a slightly calmer tone.

At this point, Khalid could no longer control himself; he turned and vomited on his shoes.  Gasping weakly, he staggered back down the tunnel, away from the horrid stench until he could breath again.  Gorak and Shayla followed close behind, almost as eager as he to get clear of the smell.  

When they reached the bend in the tunnel, they stopped again, and Gorak growled in frustration, "So now what?"

Khalid wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  "Ah, we are left with only one option.  We cannot defeat, yes, defeat the creature and hope to battle Malakai with, ah, any chance of victory, yes, quite.  If Malakai has, ah, escaped down that tunnel, we cannot pursue him and he has escaped, yes, escaped.  Therefore the only option that remains is to search the main passage.  Yes, quite."

Gorak and Shayla nodded in agreement and they headed down the adjoining passage back to the main tunnel.  In the distance they could hear a goblin frantically hammering on a gong, signaling an alarm to the entire complex.  As they moved beyond the side passage to the dwerro's cell, Khalid wished he could stop and free the pitiful dwerro from his terrible fate.  But time weighed heavily upon them and the best he could do was utter a silent promise to return if he was able.  Ahead, the tunnel branched off into several rooms.  Pushing aside a screen of beads and glancing into the first room, Khalid could only assume it was the room of one of Malakai's chief lieutenants, perhaps the large armored goblin that had slain Jalaal, adorned as it was with blades and weapons of every sort.  The next room was almost entirely bare, save for a small sleeping pallet and an altar, festooned with skulls and fetishes.  It was obviously too cramped for Malakai, and Khalid was certain that it belonged to the robed goblin that had sprung the trap on them at the entrance to the goblin stronghold.  The third room failed to turn up any sign of Malakai either, although the strange locks and mechanical devices that lay scattered about tugged at Khalid’s curiosity.

Snarling in frustration, Gorak led them deeper into the complex.  The temperature rose with each step they took, and soon the light of their lantern was strengthened by a ruddy glow reflecting from the walls.  As the shadows flickered and danced, Khalid caught a glimpse of metal in the darkness ahead.  Gorak’s keen eyes caught it as well, and he motioned them back as he crept forward to investigate.   He returned after a few moments, his normally grim expression darkening into a scowl.  Shayla muttered a vile curse under her breath as they inched forward and saw the source of Gorak’s anger.  A huge portcullis barred the tunnel in front of them.  Beyond lay the heart of the goblin mining operation.  The cart path curved around a ledge in the room, before descending down a dozen feet to an enormous blast furnace that was belching noxious fumes into a natural chimney in the rock.  Goblins raced around the chamber frantically piling adamantine ore into mining carts as the chamber reverberated with the sound of the alarm gong.

"They're getting away with all the adamantine!" Shayla cried.  Khalid, startled, glanced into the room to see if their presence had been detected.  Fortunately, the roaring flames and the ringing gong had drown out the sound and the goblins were far too concerned with loading the carts to look up.

"We've gotta stop 'em," Gorak growled.  "There's only six of them down there.  We'll worry about getting through this gate later."

Drained of spells, both Khalid and Shayla drew their crossbows.  It had been months since Khalid had even handled the weapon, and he wasn't surprised to find it just as awkward and difficult as he remembered.  Finally managing to nock the bow and load a bolt, he crawled forward on his stomach beside Shayla, right up to the portcullis.  Bracing his crossbow on a rock, he aimed carefully at one of a pair of goblins pushing a laden cart out of the furnace room.   He heard Gorak's bow creak as he drew back on the heavy string, and when the half-orc grunted, all three fired.  Khalid's bolt sailed true and skewed a goblin, who toppled from the ramp leading out of the cavern.  The goblin beside him however, put forth a herculean effort and drove the cart to the top of the ramp and out of the room.  The goblins dove for cover behind carts and mounds of slag as they quickly realized what was happening.  Gorak's arrow flew wide, but Shayla's bolt nicked a goblin as he scrambled for cover, grievously wounding him.

The goblins were seasoned and prepared for an attack.  They wasted no time in grabbing crossbows and returning fire.  Gorak was forced to drop to the ground and pinned there, preventing him from using his bow.  Khalid and Shayla continued to fire at the goblins but they were careful and well concealed.  Khalid's bolts either skipped off rock or flew wide of their mark.  By the steady stream of curses coming from Shayla, he could only surmise she was faring as poorly.  A bolt slammed into the iron bar in front of Khalid's face and struck sparks from the wall beside him.  Startled, Khalid uttered a strangled yelp and fired his crossbow into the ceiling of the cave, nearly killing Gorak with the ricochet.  The goblins continued to trade shots and forced them to stay low.  More goblins came sprinting into the room and began to load up carts and ore again.  Although they were dangerously exposed, Khalid couldn't get a good shot for fear of the goblin crossbows.  Finally, with most of the ore and all but a few stray ingots loaded up, the goblins retreated out.  As one of the crossbow wielding goblins stood to run from his hiding place, Shayla hit him in the base of the skull, killing him instantly.  Fuelled by terror, the remaining goblins vanished down the far tunnel.

As soon as he was sure it was safe, Gorak stood up and grabbed the portcullis in both hands.  Slowly the gate began to rise, then abruptly, it stopped and Gorak dropped it with a clang.  "There's a catch.  I can't open it," Gorak snarled.  "And the bars are too thick to bend."

No one spoke as they turned back down the tunnel.  All three knew the implications.  Not only were they barred from the adamantine, now the only way out of the mines lay through an army of dwerro, or possibly past the hideous creature in the latrine.  Shayla was the first to put voice to what they were all thinking.  "Now what?"

"Ah, we go back.  Yes, back, and wait for things to ah, settle down.  We have chased off their leader, and slaughtered their warriors, yes, quite.  They appear to, ah, yes, be in full flight.  We will return, and in time we will, yes, get through the gate.  Surely the goblins will miss some, yes, some adamantium in their haste.  Enough for our purposes.  Yes, quite."

Gorak, unable to come up with a better plan, reluctantly agreed.  As they retreated down the main passageway, they stopped before the path to the dwerro's cell.  "What about him," Gorak grunted.

Nobody spoke for a moment.  They had all heard the rumors, in the wine shops and bazaars, of the war in the East.  The dwerro army was reputed to be a fearsome thing, marching inexorably through the human lands, seizing towns and toppling castles.  Those that resisted were put to the sword, and those that ran were harried and hunted.  Still, to consign the dwerro to a slow and agonizing death was an impossible choice.  Finally, Shayla broke the silence.  "We can't leave him there."

No one objected as they moved down the tunnel to the cell.  Peering into the gloom, they could not tell if the dwerro was even still alive at first, until the light flickered off his open eyes, silently watching them.  Khalid studied the bars for a moment, and then nodded to himself.  "Ah, Gorak, I'll need your rope.  Shayla, see if you can find a ballista bolt nearby, we'll need something to act as a lever.  Yes, quite.  Ah, I think if we loop the rope around, yes, around the bars and use the shaft of the bolt as leverage you can bend..."

Gorak, in the meantime, had walked up to the bars.  Gripping one in two hands, he braced his foot against the wall, and pushed off.  The muscles in his legs and arms bulged under the strain.  Khalid, cut off in mid sentence, stared slack jawed as the bar slowly bent under Gorak's enormous strength.  Panting with the exertion, he continued to bend the bar until he judged the hole wide enough for the dwerro to slip through.  Khalid shut his mouth with a snap.  "Ah, or we could just do that," he concluded rather lamely.

The dwerro slowly pushed himself to his feet, and walked towards them.  He held the dagger Khalid had given him in one hand and the water skin clutched protectively in the other.  He stepped through the gap Gorak had created, and took a deep breath of the fetid air in the tunnel as though it were the freshest desert breeze.  Even this close, Khalid could not determine the dwerro's age.  He looked ancient, but Khalid suspected that had as much to do with his confinement as the passage of time.  Indeed, the dwerro seemed to draw strength from his freedom, standing a little straighter and regarding them all with eyes that were quick and alert.

"I owe," he started, his voice a hoarse whisper.  He cleared his throat and continued.  "I owe you all a great debt, though I may not survive to repay it."  The words were laced with a thick accent, but otherwise the dwerro spoke the western tongue perfectly.  The sound of his voice reminded Khalid of grating rock, though his tone was respectful.

"We couldn't leave you there," Shayla replied simply.  Following Gorak's lead, they headed back down the main tunnel towards the mines.  Shayla and Khalid steadied the dwerro between them, aiding his faltering steps.

"Others might have.  You have slain the beast Malakai?"

"No," Gorak grunted.  "We had him, but he used some sort of magick to get away."

The dwerro stopped.  "I know where he hides."  They turned and stared at him.  "He has a secret lair.  The entrance lies past the cell, between the two doors, in this passage.  Count fifteen paces from the first door, then turn and face the opposite wall.  At your left hand, four feet from the floor, you will see an oddly shaped stone imbedded in the wall.  It is the catch that releases the concealed door."

"How do you know?" Gorak grumbled suspiciously.

"Better to ask why the sun rises in the East.  I am dwerro.  I know it is there."

Gorak grunted, satisfied that the dwerro was sincere.  "Good.  Let's go finish him."

Khalid laid a hand on his arm to prevent the half-orc from charging down the hall.  "Ah, perhaps we should consider this first."

"What's to consider?  Shayla, you got a coupla spells left right?"

"A few."

"He's hurt bad," Gorak continued.  "If he don't surrender right away,  I'll keep him busy long enough for Shayla to pound him into submission."

"Ah, at least allow me to set up our escape.  The dwerro is in no shape to fight, and I would, ah, see him safely away before this begins.  Yes, quite."

Gorak nodded, and Khalid and the dwerro entered the mines.  Moving a little further down the tunnel, away from the ruined oaken doors, Khalid drew out his second last scroll and cast the final spell etched upon it.  The thick parchment burned away to ash as the magical rune vanished, and the length of rope at his feet rose slowly into the air.

"There is a portal there," Khalid instructed the dwerro.  "It will, ah, lead you to a place of safety.  Yes quite.  Do not draw up the rope, as that will seal the entrance and I swear, yes, swear that if you trap us out here, I will dismiss the spell with my dying breath, and ah, we will all die out here."  The dwerro studied Khalid carefully for a moment, then nodded and slowly climbed the rope, vanishing into the pocket dimension.

Khalid rejoined Shayla and Gorak back in the main tunnel.  Gorak unstrapped the shield from his back, and drew his cudgel.  Khalid, his power depleted, nocked his crossbow and fitted it with a bolt as he followed Gorak to the hidden entrance.  They counted off the paces and found the small stone exactly where the dwerro said they would.  "We ready?" Gorak whispered.  Shayla took up a position slightly behind Gorak, in order to get a clear line of sight.  Khalid withdrew down the tunnel, and covered both of them with his crossbow.  Gorak took a deep breath, nudged Sousee out of her basket and pressed the catch.

Everything went horribly wrong.  The secret door swung open easily a few inches, then jammed.  Instead of leaping into the room and catching Malakai unaware, Gorak had to slam into the door with his shoulder to force it open.  The squeal of metal grinding on metal echoed through the halls and set  Khalid's teeth on edge.   Malakai, reclining on a mound of pillows surrounded by naked goblin women, grabbed his enormous sword and leapt to his feet charging straight at Gorak.#

Gorak raised his cudgel and swung, but clipped the edge of the doorway and missed.  Sousee lashed out and sunk her fangs deep into Malakai's calf, but the fearsome goblin ignored her and leveled a terrible blow at Gorak.  Only the close quarters and Gorak's awesome physique saved him from decapitation.  Unable to get a clear swing, Malakai was forced to pull his blow and the blade sheared deep into the thick muscles of Gorak's neck.  Reeling backwards, Gorak staggered out of the doorway and into the main hall.  Shayla began to cast immediately, and flung a handful of spinning discs at Malakai, cutting him deeply.

As Malakai entered the main tunnel, Khalid raised his crossbow but couldn't get a clear shot for fear of hitting Gorak or Shayla.  With mounting horror, he stared at Malakai.  The dreadful burns on his face and neck were gone, replaced with twisted scar tissue and fresh skin.  Somehow the goblin had overcome his wounds.  Unable to face this creature without the aid of his magic, Khalid's will broke, and he cast his last spell.  With unnatural speed he raced down the hallway towards the safety his extraplanar abode.  As he fled he could hear footsteps behind him and then a hideous sound struck him to his very core.  A sound he had heard before.  A sound he had hoped to never heard again.  He skidded to a halt and turned around as Shayla's tortured scream faded from the tunnels.  Gorak, clutching at his wound almost crashed into him.  Malakai was standing over Shayla's crumpled form, his bloodied sword held high.  If there was any life still left in her, his next blow would surely end it.

For the first time in Khalid's twenty five years, fear for another replaced the fear for his own life.  He couldn't bear to let Shayla's beautiful spirit be quenched by that hideous goblin, in this filthy hole beneath the earth.  He drew the last scroll from his belt and stepped forward.  "Hold your blade!"

The goblin's head jerked up and his blade stopped its descent.  He stepped back and placed his foot over Shayla's light spell, shrouding the tunnel in darkness.  Outlined by the ruddy glow of the smelting room, Khalid could barely make out the goblin's features.  "Why should I?"  Malakai snarled.

"We wish to offer you a trade," Khalid replied.

"Hah, what do you have that is worth this trophy?"  Malakai sneered.

"This cloak," Gorak grunted.  "It's magic.  Makes you resistant to poison and magical effects."

"Hardly worth the price of this beauty, or the look on your faces when I cut off her head.  But it looks like there's still a bit of life in her, so maybe I'll keep her here, brighten up my harem a bit."

Khalid made a curt gesture at Gorak, silencing him.  "You will return the girl to us."  Khalid informed him.  There was no trace of hesitation in his voice; the words were clear and confident.

"Or you'll do what?"

"I'll cast this."  Khalid slowly unrolled the vellum scroll.

"Nice try little man," Malakai laughed.  "If that was any threat to me, you'd have used it a long time ago."

"Come now, my large pink friend,"  Khalid replied, his voice steady.  "You understand magic.  You understand the cost, and the risks.  I had hoped to preserve this, but you have forced my hand."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Malakai growled.

Seconds ticked by, and a bead of cold sweat trickled down the back of Khalid's neck.  "If the girl dies, I will have no choice."

Malakai glanced down, "She's not going to die."  Another long silence followed.  Finally Malakai snarled, "If you want her, come and get her."  As Khalid stepped forward, Malakai spat, "Not you!  The orc.  Naked.  And bring that cloak."

Gorak looked at Khalid, who nodded.  Stripping off his armor, Gorak hissed in pain as the stiff leather tore away his clotting wound.  Fresh rivulets of blood streaked his ebony torso.  Clenching the wound beneath his hand, he walked slowly down the tunnel.  He stopped ten feet from Shayla's body and stared at Malakai.  The goblin stood there, impassively.  Finally he stepped back slightly and lowered his sword.

Gorak knelt down beside Shayla.  "She's still alive," he called out to Khalid.  Dropping his cloak on the ground, he began to gather her up in his arms.

"Wait," Malakai barked.  Gorak's head snapped up and he glared at the goblin.  His body trembled like a caged animal, and his lips drew back in a feral snarl as he prepared for Malakai's next move.  "In that room is a small iron chest, filled with bars of adamantine.  Pure and refined.  It's what you came here for.  I will give you one ingot, if you give me the name of the man that sent you here."

Gorak didn't move, didn't take his eyes off Malakai.  Khalid considered the offer carefully.  Arbaq had stressed the significance of obtaining this metal in no uncertain terms.  He would not be pleased with them if they divulged his name, but considering that the presence of a devil had done nothing more than altered his traveling plans, Khalid felt assured he could handle one fat goblin, no matter how cunning.  "Agreed."

"I'll give you two if you tell me where to find him."

"Gorak, go and retrieve a _single_ bar of adamantine."

Gorak rose slowly from Shayla's side and vanished into Malakai's harem.  Seconds passed with agonizing slowness.  Khalid's arms began to ache with the strain of holding the scroll out in front of him.  Finally Gorak returned.  He held out the single bar of adamantine, to show he had not taken anything else.  Malakai grunted, and Gorak knelt down beside Shayla and carefully gathered her up in his arms.  As he stood up, Malakai raised his sword slightly.  "The name."

"Arbaq ibn Asadel."

"That name is known to me," Malakai growled.  "Go.  Get out of my caves."

Khalid bowed slightly, "It has been a pleasure doing business with you."

"Until we meet again, wizard."  The threat hung heavy in the air.

"Yes, quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​
They walked back into the darkness of the mines.  As they passed Khalid's refuge, he called out to the dwerro, who carefully dropped down out of the open portal.  With a wave of his hand, Khalid dismissed the spell.  They moved as quickly as they could through the tunnels, seeking to put Malakai as far behind them as possible.  Finally, when they judged it safe, they stopped and Gorak tended to Shayla's wounds.

"Ah, will she be alright?" Khalid asked with some trepidation as he stared down at Shayla's blood streaked face.  Her skin was ashen grey, and her breathing was shallow and rapid.

"She's tough," Gorak grunted.  He cast a minor orison to staunch some of the bleeding.  "I've done what I can.  It'll be close, but I think she'll live until tomorrow and then I can help her."  Khalid breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  Gorak looked up and met Khalid's gaze.  He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the wizard's part in the battle and in getting them all out safely, then returned to Shayla.

Although they were not far enough from Malakai for Khalid's liking, it was apparent that neither the dwerro nor Shayla could go any farther.  Khalid moved a little ways apart from the others and almost collapsed in exhaustion.  Alone, in the gloom, the enormity of the last few days crashed over him.  He reached to turn up the lantern and was surprised to see that his hand was trembling violently.  As he fumbled with the lantern, his shaking hands failed him and it dropped to the floor, snuffing out the flame.  Sitting in the absolute darkness of the mines he wondered to himself, had he been forced to cast his spell, how much good a fully saddled riding horse really would have done him.##

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:
* Stupid lemure.  It took off after a goblin down a side passage and I never saw it again.

** Heh, I killed 7 goblins with that burning hands (admittedly, a few were unconscious on the floor).  One of my better moments.

*** It was so unbelievably frustrating trying to hit Malakai.  But when Shayla finally did, she rolld almost max damage.

#This was brutal.  We really needed Gorak to land this hit, considering Malakai had a wand of cure light wounds (or something) and was much less hurt than we expected.  The worst part was, he missed, then rolled for Sousee, and she got a confirmed critical.

##This was one of Khalid's shining moments in the campaign and totally justified putting ranks in bluff.  I beat Malakai on a bluff check by about 2 (23 to 21 if I remember right).  In case it wasn't obvious from the post, the only spells on that scroll were Mount.  If Gorak hadn't spoke up about his cloak he probably wouldn't have lost it.  He considered this a defeat, but Khalid survived (I keep telling Galeman that since survival is my only goal, I should get full exp even when I run away - so far, no luck) and got a bar of adamantium.  As far as I was concerned this was a victory.


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## pogre

Thanks for the update! What a great surprise this weekend.



> surrounded by naked goblin women, grabbed his enormous sword and leapt to his feet




You warned of a gruesome episode, but this vision was particularly disturbing...

Yes, my mind is always in the gutter


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## Bill Muench

Great update! Glad to see you writing again. Thanks!


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## Miln

Thanks for the update!!  Please continue.


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## The Axe

**Burns voice*  Eeeexcellent */Burns voice**

Good to have you back!


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## Guillaume

[Junkie Imitation]What ?! That's it ? Only that !  But... But.... I NEED MORE ! [/Junkie Imitation] 

Good reading.  Looking forward to the next instalment.


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## Black Bard

It`s really good to see you back, EN!!!
I`ve been missing our intrepid Khalid!!!  
I hope you`ll be able to update more often and congratulations!!!!


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## The Axe

**Grabs a stick**

*Poke poke*


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## pogre

**Grabs a Club**

*whack Whack*


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## Guillaume

Hey stop hiting me ! I have nothing to do with this !


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## Galeman

Please, i invite further beatings.  Sometimes Newb is as stubborn as a rented mule.  Besides, he has no excuse, we spent 2 marathon nights just last week adventuring epically!

"The beating will continue until morale improves!"


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## pogre

Monthly bump.

I really would like to see an update.


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## The Axe

*Bump*

Sorry I haven't been as vigilant with the bumpings lately---is it too late?


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## EternalNewbie

*Better late than never I guess...*

I know my absence is inexcusable but, uh, here's my excuse.  I'm suffering through a pretty heavy World of Warcraft addiction and with Galeman gone, I'm running the local campaign in these parts.  To make matters worse, while upgrading my computer to better crush the Alliance, I managed to erase the first part of this update, along with everything else I've written over the past 10 years or so (ironically enough, it happened while I was trying to back it up...go figure) which was kind of demoralizing.

Anyhow, if there's anybody left here, I present for your viewing enjoyment, the end of Chapter 3: The Mines of Malakai.

* * * * * * * * * *​
“Ah, yes, Gorak, are you sure we're going the...”  Khalid bit off the last part of the question as Gorak growled deep in his throat.  

“The answer is the same as the last time you asked, Khalid,” Gorak snarled. “Same as the half dozen times before that too.  I don't, but he does.”  He gestured at the shadowy outline of the dwerro marching stoically ahead of them, at the very edge of their lantern light.

It seemed as though the weeks beneath the earth were finally beginning to take their toll on Gorak.  He seemed as anxious as Khalid to be free of the mines and while he had no concern that the dwerro would lead them astray, he was lost and it bothered him more than a little.   Khalid's incessant questions hadn't improved his mood any, and it was a testament to their friendship that Khalid still had all of his teeth.

Gorak stopped suddenly, and Shayla bumped into him with a startled little gasp.  Since the battle two days ago, she hadn't said more than a few words to either of them.  She was never more than a foot behind Gorak however, and when he preformed his devotions or scouted ahead, she  unconsciously moved closer to Khalid.   Understanding her closeness for what it was but unsure of what to do, Khalid had remained quiet and hoped that she would be able to come to terms with her injury on her own.

Blinking into the darkness, Khalid realized that Zarum, their dwerro companion, had sagged against the wall, breathing heavily.  “Ah, what's the matter?” he asked.

“We are close,” Zarum replied, between breaths.  “But I am afraid I have not quite recovered from my prolonged captivity.”

Khalid thought he'd recovered unbelievably well from the goblin's mistreatment.  He ate steadily while they marched and now walked upright, unaided, with barely a trace of a limp.  The dark smudges beneath his eyes had vanished, and his lips were no longer cracked and bleeding.  Gorak spared him the indignity of having to ask, and announced, “Time for a break.  How far away you figure we're now?”

Zarum sat down on rock and absently stroked his beard.  “Two hours, maybe a bit more.”

Gorak grunted.  “No point in spending another night in here then.  What time you reckon it is?”

“An hour before midnight.”

Khalid's heart leapt when he realized how close they were.  Smiling broadly, he turned to Shayla and saw that she was staring intently at Zarum.  It wasn't the first time Khalid had caught her studying the dwerro, but he was surprised at the anger that smoldered in her emerald eyes. Her lips were pressed into two thin white lines and it was clear she hadn't heard anything that had been said.  As Khalid leaned forward to ask her what was wrong, Shayla spoke for the first time in over a day.

“Why?”  A single word laced with bitter accusation.

The effect on the dwerro was instantaneous.   He sat bolt upright and stared directly at Shayla.  Unable to bear her relentless gaze, he looked down at the cold stone floor.  There was no doubt in Khalid's mind that Zarum knew exactly what she was asking.  When he finally looked up again, there was a great sadness in his eyes.

Zarum looked as though he wanted to speak, and several times opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again.  As the silence dragged on, Khalid fumbled anxiously with his spellbook wishing that he was anywhere but here.  Gorak made no pretense of his curiosity, as he glanced from Shayla to Zarum, his customary scowl deepening as the minutes passed.

Finally, Zarum broke the awful silence.  “I hoped,” he began, and then cleared his throat as his voice wavered.  “I had hoped that my eyes were deceived.  I hoped too that if they were not, you would be ignorant of your heritage and I would be spared this moment. I find myself living every dwerro's greatest fear: to be called to account for our greatest shame.  And yet,” he looked up and Khalid was surprised to see his eyes were edged with tears, “my heart soars to know that despite all, you have endured.  All was not...all is not lost.”

“I owe you my life and more.  I will answer your question and tell you a story that has not been heard in these lands in over four hundred years.”  Zarum took a deep steadying breath, and then began to speak in earnest.

“For centuries untold, our peoples lived in peace.  We dwerro favored the hills and mountains and the deep places within the earth.  Your people made their home beneath the boughs of the great forests, reveling beneath the ancient oaks and glades.  While we did not understand your ways, we respected them as your people respected ours.  And then the humans arrived.  They came from the north, following the herds and found a green expanse of untouched land.  They made their homes in the valleys and along the rivers, and we welcomed them, your people and mine.  Soon they learned to till the earth, and dam the rivers.  They grew prosperous and strong, trading freely with the dwerro and the elves.  We showed them how to uncover the strength of the earth, and forge it into steel.  The elves showed them how to look beyond this world into others, and in doing so, taught them magic and hastened their own doom.”

“We watched as the human nation grew ever larger; at first proud that we had helped them achieve such greatness, and then with trepidation as the began to encroach upon our land.  But never did we see the threat growing within their midst.  No, I will correct myself.  We did not allow ourselves to see the threat.  It seemed of little concern to us at the time, for the humans find our lands inhospitable and barren.  But it was not so with elven lands.  The forests were valuable to the humans, and they coveted the timber for their homes and ships.  Human towns began to appear along the boundaries of the elven lands and the sound of falling axes shattered the stillness of the ancient woods.  And still we thought nothing of it, believing it a matter best settled by the elves and humans themselves.”

“We have no record of the first battle, only the humans account.  Their diplomats flooded into our cities, bearing chests of gold that gilded threats of steel.  For the first time in many years, we looked beyond our borders and saw might of the human empire.  We saw her countless legions encased in glittering steel, leading the machines of war.  We saw her battle magi, speaking the words of magic as though they were born to it.  We saw her priests and champions extolling war and glory with every breath.”

“In that moment, our thanes failed us.   They traded our pride for human riches and counted themselves better for the deal.  We took their bribes and when the elven envoys came calling, pleading for our aid, we turned them away.”

“The war was brief and savage.  Vastly out numbered and lacking the humans talent for battle, the elves were driven back.  Not without cost however.  The elven spellweavers wreaked terrible magic upon the human soldiers and whole legions vanished beneath the cool darkness of the trees.  But in the end, their cities fell and the forests burned, until all that was left was the ancient capital of the elves.”

“We realized too late, what the humans had really purchased with their gold.  Even before the elven capital had fallen, they began to turn their greedy eyes to the riches of the dwerro.  Standing side by side with the elves, we could have perhaps prevailed.  For the first time, the entire dwerro nation was imperiled and we took the only course that was left to us.  Those settlements that we could not defend were destroyed and our people recalled to the great halls beneath the mountains.  We turned our back upon this land and sealed the stone gates behind us.”

“We vowed then, to never forget the treachery of humans, and the shame we had brought upon ourselves.”

Khalid turned to looked at the others and saw his astonishment mirrored on Gorak's face.  Little of the dwerro's story seemed a surprise to Shayla, but some of the anger had fled her.  As Gorak questioned Zarum, Khalid's mind raced as he tried to understand the implications.  Four hundred years to prepare.  Four hundred years to nurse a profound hatred.  He pitied those people living in the Eastern lands for the dwerro were motivated by sense of righteous revenge and would stop at nothing to punish them for the sins of their fathers.  And where would the dwerro turn when the humans of the East had been crushed, he wondered.  Would their bloodlust be sated, or would they turn their eyes West?

“We should get moving,” Gorak rumbled.  “Or we're never gonna get outta here.”

They quickly gathered their belongings and set off down the tunnel, following Zarum.  Desperate to be free of this place, they set a hurried pace, stumbling and tripping at times over the loose shale on the cavern floor.  There was no change in the grey monotony of the surroundings to indicate they were any closer to their goal.  Khalid began to despair, fearful they would never escape when a breath of fresh air played gently over his cheek.  “Did you, yes, feel that?” he cried, pushing forward in his haste, “We're almost there!”

“Hold on,” Gorak growled as he snagged Khalid by the collar of his robe.  “There's gonna be guards out there.

“I will deal with the guards,” Zarum said and seeing the concern on their faces, continued.  “You have my word that you will be treated well, and free to leave whenever you wish.”

As Zarum stepped forward into the fissure, an angry challenge rose from the pass below.  A stunned silence greeted Zarum's commanding response.  After a few seconds of whispered consultation, one of the guards below replied in what Khalid judged to be a very deferential manner.  A few moments later they heard the sound of hoof beats heading back towards the rampart.
Zarum nodded to himself and stepped away from the opening.  “I have made arrangements to get us down, but it will take some time.  I suggest you make yourselves comfortable.

A nervous silence settled over the group as they waited for the dwarves.  Despite Zarum's assurances, Khalid feared their reception would be distinctly unpleasant.  After all, they had killed two dwarves on the way in and only brought one out.  They were one short as far as he was concerned.  He continued to fidget restlessly until a warning glance from Gorak forced him to calm down, at least outwardly.  After almost an hour of waiting, a dwarven voice called out from below and Zarum answered in kind.

“We may leave now.” Zarum said as he stepped out through the fissure.

“You next Khalid, then Shayla,” Gorak grunted.

Khalid's jaw dropped in astonishment as he followed Zarum.  He had expected the dwarves would secure ropes for their descent or perhaps some sort of ladder.    Instead, an enormous siege tower had been dragged from the barricade with the help of six enormous boars, each easily three times the size of the stout riding boars.  As Khalid made his way down through the tower, hard eyed dwarven guards watched his passage.  At the base of the tower, a veritable village of tents had been erected.   Zarum waited, surrounded by a dozen dwarves, all speaking at once.  He waved the dwarves to silence as Gorak joined them on the ground.  “As I promised, you will be well tended while you remain here.  Tents have been prepared, as has food and water for bathing,” he indicated a large opulent tent behind him.  “I must confer with my countrymen now, but I will join you as soon as I am able.”

Never one to argue with a free meal, Khalid practically ran over to the tent Zarum had pointed to.  Seizing a joint of mutton and tankard of ale, he sought out the baths and immediately began to scrub weeks of accumulated grime from his body between mouthfuls.  Using an exquisite dwarven razor, Khalid shaved away a month of stubble from his head and face, leaving a pencil thin line down the edge of his jaw.  Looking in a burnished silver mirror, he was moderately pleased with the result.  Picking up the tattered robes that were his only clothing, he cast a few cantrips on them, then sighed mournfully as he realized even magick wouldn't return them to their former glory.  Shrugging into them, he slung his rucksack over one shoulder and headed back to main portion of the tent to do some serious eating.

Gorak had forgone the bath altogether and absently tossed the carcass of a roast chicken aside as Khalid entered.  Crunching on a bone, he kicked out a chair for Khalid as he approached.  It was some time later before Shayla entered, looking as though she had just spent an evening at the Sultan's palace rather than three weeks in a goblin mine.  She was wearing an skimpy outfit that Khalid had never seen before and he suspected that no small portion of their magical backpack was devoted to her wardrobe.  Smiling at both of them, she sat down and joined in the feast as eagerly if not as noisily as Gorak and Khalid.  They ate in silence, and were soon joined by Zarum.  He too had bathed and trimmed his beard.  He was wearing a white silk robe embroidered with gold thread.  Thick gold chains hung about his neck, presumably a symbol of his office.  He sent the trailing courtier away with a flick of his hand, and joined them at the table.

“You are finding everything to your liking?” he asked.

Khalid, his mouth full of spiced tubers could only grunt in agreement.  Shayla was studiously examining her plate, not looking at Zarum.  The anger seemed to have dulled somewhat, but it was clear that she wasn't comfortable around the dwerro.

“Excellent,” Zarum continued.  “I will not trouble you long this evening, as I am sure you will wish to rest before returning to Gem-Sharad in the morning.”  The last was said as more of a question, and Zarum did not seem surprised with Gorak nodded.

“As I expected.  I wish then to make a proposal now, and let you consider it this night before you leave.”  Although he seemed to be speaking to all of them, he was looking directly at Khalid.  “You have all done me a great service, and while I will reward that in time, I wish to offer you a permanent position within the dwarven army.”   Khalid almost choked on the sauted mushrooms he was shoveling into his mouth.  He had certainly not expected that.

“I understand,” Zarum continued, “that what I tell one of you will most certainly be shared with the others so I will not dissemble.   When I was captured by the beast Malakai, I was attempting to discharge a duty handed to my by the Thane himself.  He instructed me to seek out all  traces of ancient knowledge that might return magick to the dwarven lorekeepers.  I know you have discovered the secret Khalid.”  Seeing Khalid's knuckles tighten on his rucksack, Zarum hastily continued. “I assure you, I would never take it from you by force after what you have done for me and it is in my power to see that no dwerro here will either.”  He turned then to Shayla and Gorak.  “While it is indeed Khalid's services that I seek, I have seen firsthand your abilities and have no doubt that I can find tasks suited to your abilities as well.  Should you accept, we will discuss compensation for your efforts.  I am sure you would like to discuss the matter with each other, before deciding.”  Zarum rose before they had recovered their wits enough to speak, bowed low and left the tent.

“So,” Gorak grunted.  “Whadda think of that?” he jerked his thumb in the direction Zarum had left.

“Ah, most unexpected, yes, quite unexpected.”

They debated the issue until the urge to sleep overwhelmed them.  Shayla wasn't as opposed to the idea as Khalid thought she would be.  When asked directly, she had only shrugged and said that things weren't as clear as Arbaq had told her and in any event, it was over four hundred years ago.  Still, she felt that her loyalties for the moment, lied with Arbaq.  Gorak was curious to see what they would offer, which left the decision mainly in Khalid's trembling hands.  Knowing what he was returning to in Gem-Sharad, and what was happening in Shalazar, being protected by the entire dwarven army didn't seem like a bad idea.  Still, he had the nagging suspicion that dwarven bloodlust wouldn't be sated in the East and he didn't particularly want to be known as a traitor to his own race.  In the end, they decided to reject Zarum's offer as cordially as possible, in case the situation changed.

Khalid slept late and woke up feeling better than he had in weeks.  Gorak and Shayla were just finishing their morning meal, and it was with no small amount of regret that Khalid stuffed a few choice morsels into his mouth and then hurried off to gather his things.  When they exited the tent, Zarum was waiting for them, flanked by an impressive looking honor guard.  He smiled when he saw them and wasted no time in getting to last nights discussion.

“So, you have an answer to my proposal?”

“Ah, yes, while I'm sure it is quite generous, for the moment, we are beholden to another master, yes quite.  Perhaps at some point in the future...” Khalid trailed off expectantly.

Zarum nodded as though he expected the answer before they gave it.  “I understand.  Should you change your minds, return to this rampart and speak the name of Zarum Goldhammer.  I will leave instructions for the guards to contact me immediately.”  He waved a guard forward, who then knelt and opened a small chest Khalid's feet.  “As I promised, your reward for rescuing me.”

Khalid knelt down and drew out a finely tailored robes, richly embroidered and surprisingly heavy.  Turning it inside out, he gasped as a glint of metal caught his eye. “Ah, mithral,” he said in a reverent tone.

“Yes, the robe is reinforced with mithral links, as is yours Shayla.”

“Truly a princely gift,” she murmured as she pulled another robe from the chest.

Zarum saw Gorak frown slightly and smiled.  “I know you well enough Gorak, to know such things will do you no good.” Another guard walked forward and handed Zarum a shield, which he passed to Gorak.  “I think you will find this more suitable.  It has been in my family for ages, a gift from a time long since past.” His eyes grew distant for a moment, then he continued.  “It is as hard as steel, and mighty indeed is the blade that can sunder a Darkwood shield.”

Gorak grunted his thanks and strapped the shield to his arm, testing its weight.  With a grin, he banged his cudgel on the front and bowed slightly before Zarum.  “Well, we've got business to attend to in another part of the world, and you've got that war going on that I'm sure you wanna get back to.  So, thanks for the loot.”  Gorak said with his usual tact.  “Khalid, summon us up a ride.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid stammered with a reproachful look at Gorak.  “It has been interesting, and I have no doubt, yes, no doubt that our paths will cross again.”  That said, Khalid summoned three mounts to the muttered comments of the dwarven onlookers.  They mounted wordlessly and with a final wave to Zarum, rode out of the mountain pass.

The ride across the desert was a blur of dunes and portals, as they raced across the sand on Khalid's tireless mounts and spent the nights sheltered in his protective magick.  The week and a half journey seemed to fly by in a matter of moments and it was with great relief that Khalid dismissed his mount in front of Arbaq's mansion in Gem-Sharad.  A servant greeted them at the door, bowing low to the ground.  “Arbaq has requested you be brought to him immediately.  If you would kindly follow me.”

The servant led them through the labyrinth of Arbaq's home to his private study.  He knocked quietly on the door, and entered at Arbaq's invitation.  Looking up from the parchment he was studying, Arbaq smiled and rose to his feet.  “My friends, I had almost begun to despair.”  He waved at the servant waiting by the door, “Quickly, bring food and wine.  Knock and leave it outside the door.  Clear all of my appointments this afternoon and make sure I am not disturbed.”  As the servant left, Arbaq seemed to realize for the first time, that someone was missing.  “Where is Jalaal?”

Before Khalid could think of a way to break the news, Gorak spoke up.  “Dead.  A big bastard of a goblin shortened him by a head.  Give this to his family if he's got one.”  He drew Jalaal's scimitar from his belt and tossed it on the desk.  “But that's the middle of the story,” Gorak rumbled.  “I'm guessing you wanna here it from the start.”

A flicker of emotion crossed Arbaq's face at the mention of Jalaal's death, but it was gone so quickly that Khalid couldn't tell if it was sorrow or annoyance.  “First, tell me that you have found what I was searching for?”

“We've got it,” Shayla said as she drew out the shining black bar of adamantine.

There was no mistaking the emotion on Arbaq's faced at the sight of the ingot.  “Excellent!  You have once again proven that my trust in you was not misplaced.  Now, tell me the story from the start, and leave out no detail.”

The telling of the tale lasted well into the night.  Servants left food and wine outside the door and at one point their were forced to break so that lamps could be placed around the room.  Khalid and Gorak told the story as best they could, with no attempt to color the events of the last month.  At the retelling of Jalaal's death, Shayla lowered her head so that her long auburn hair covered her face.  Khalid could tell she was crying softly, and he himself was unable to continue the story, allowing Gorak to speak instead.  They found that Arbaq had an uncanny knack for asking leading questions, forcing them to remember details they had forgotten.  Shayla, somewhat uncharacteristically did not talk much, although she added several important details in response to Arbaq's direct queries.

Arbaq didn't seem nearly as upset as Khalid feared he would be when they described the final confrontation with Malakai.  He shrugged off the addition of another powerful enemy with a casual wave of his hand.  “You have done far more than I could have asked of you, and have succeeded in the task I set before you.  I can not blame you for your methods.”  He was intrigued by the dwerro's offer as well, and asked them point blank what their intentions were.

“We turned 'em down,” Gorak grunted.  “I'm still your man.”

“As am I, yes quite.”

“Me too, well no, I'm your woman,” Shayla replied and then blushed slightly.  “That's not exactly what I meant.”

Arbaq smiled and nodded.  “I am pleased beyond measure to hear that.  Now I have kept you here far too long, satisfying my curiosity.  Return to your rooms now, you will find them exactly as you left them.  Take your leisure for a while, and enjoy the run of my estate.  What is mine is yours. Saving of course, my private chambers.  I will undoubtedly have need of you soon, but until then, rest and relax.”

* * * * * * * * * *​
Khalid stood behind one of Arbaq's harem girls, a dark eyed beauty named Emira and plunged his hands into her jet black hair.  “Ah, my dear, I have missed you, yes quite,” he breathed as he kissed her softly down the nape of her neck.  “You can not, yes, not imagine the horrors I have faced and how I have longed for your gentle, yes, gentle embrace.”

She melted into his arms and tilted her head back.  “Oh Gorak,” she whispered.

Never a proud man, Khalid barely missed a beat as he began to unlace her flimsy silk halter.  “Ah, Gorak is the large black one my dear, smells like camel.  My name is Khalid.”  With a flick of his wrist, he sent her halter drifting to the ground and then spun her around to face him.  He kissed her passionately and then drew back, staring deeply into her luminous eyes,  “My dear, your beauty steals my breath away.”

“Oh Gorak,” Emira replied in a decidedly unfeminine voice.

“Ah, now wait just a minute...”

Khalid sat bolt upright in his bed and stared around his darkened room as sleep fled from him.  “How odd,” he muttered to himself.  “Ah, well, at least I'm not dreaming of Malakai anym...”

“GORAK! GORAK, DAMN YOU! COME OUT AND FACE ME!”

Heart hammering in his chest, Khalid leapt out of his bed as the roar echoed through the empty hallways of Arbaq's mansion.  With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, he grabbed his belt and spellbook and rushed towards his door.  “Now what,” he whispered to himself.


----------



## Miln

Wooo Hoo! Thanks for continuing the story.

I had certainly given up hope of you ever updating.

Here's hoping it won't be another year before the next one.


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## Bill Muench

Excellent, as always. I really enjoy the different flavor of this story hour.


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## AIM-54

Miln said:
			
		

> Wooo Hoo! Thanks for continuing the story.





Let me second this motion!  I've really enjoyed reading this SH and am glad to see another update.  Rest assured your desert-y goodness is not forgotten!  Look forward to the next update as you are able.


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## The Axe

*Hoo-AH!*

The bumps are not in vain!  KUTGW!!!


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## TaranTheWanderer

bumpity, bump, bump


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## Guillaume

Still reading....

IOW Bump.


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## EternalNewbie

CHAPTER 4: THICKER THAN WATER

Khalid threw open his bedroom door and rushed into the hallway, heading for the main entrance.  Skidding to a halt on the marble floor, he quickly reconsidered and darted out a side door into a garden.  Leaping over a small hedge, he crept along the side of Arbaq's mansion and peered around the corner into the courtyard.  Seeing several armed men milling around the gate, Khalid grabbed a fist full of sand and was about to unleash a spell when he realized all of the soldiers were wearing Arbaq's green and white.  Taking a moment to sort out the scene, he saw Gorak standing in the middle, arguing furiously with one of the guardsmen.  On the other side of the wrought iron gate was a shadowy figure that tugged at Khalid's memory, although he could barely see anything in the  flickering torch light.  A guard stuck the butt end of his spear through the gate to prod the figure away from the wall and was jerked forward as his spear was seized.  With a loud clang the guard crashed into the gate, then staggered back and fell down as Gorak shoved him.  Khalid groaned inwardly as he realized there was only one person he knew strong enough to fling around a grown man like that.  With a laugh, Gormo tossed the guard's spear back through the gate.  Khalid stepped out from his hiding place and walked into the light.  Relaxing only slightly, he held onto a pinch of sand as it looked very much like a full scale brawl was about to erupt.

Heads jerked around as the barracks door opened with a crash.  Muttering curses,  the Captain of the guard stumbled out.  Sizing up the situation with a quick glance, he turned to Gorak, “What's going on here?” he demanded.

“Nothing.  This is my bruther, and we're just leavin'.” Gorak grunted, still glaring at the sitting guard.

The Captain, being somewhat better informed, recognized Gorak's unique place within the household.  Mulling things over, he decided in the interest of a good night's sleep to take Gorak at his word.  “Fine.  Take him and get out of here.” he replied and headed back to his bunk.

The guards, with a few sullen glances in Gorak's direction, began to disperse and resume their posts.  Halfway across the courtyard, Shayla fell into step beside Khalid.  They joined Gorak at the gates as he grunted in agreement with something Gormo said.

Gormo was every bit as unpleasant as Khalid remembered.  Slightly taller and wider than Gorak, he smelled as though he hadn't bathed in a month.  Breathing heavily from his encounter with the guards, Gormo eyed Khalid and Shayla as they approached.  He rubbed a hand over his greasy topknot as his eyes lingered for an uncomfortably long time on Shayla's lithe form.  Clad only in a gauzy nightgown, Shayla endured his gaze without a trace of embarrassment.  He muttered a greeting then spoke again to Gorak.  “C'mon.  Let's go.”

“Ah, Gorak, what's going on?”  Khalid asked.

“Gotta go into the dessert.  Me Da's been taken.” Gorak replied.  “Gormo, wait here, and don't angry up the guards while I get my gear.”

“Taken?  By who?” Shayla asked as she fell into step beside him.

“Dunno,” Gorak growled with uncharacteristic patience.  “That's why I gotta go.”

“Well I'm coming with you.”  Shayla raised a hand as Gorak began to object.  “Don't argue.  You might need me.”  Gorak stopped and stared at her intently for a second, then shrugged and continued walking back to the house.  

“Khalid,” Shayla continued.  “What about you?”

“Ah, I think perhaps my presence may be more of a hinderence, yes, hinderence than a help, for a variety of reasons.”  Khalid looked questioningly at Gorak.  “Ah, unless of course you think I can help?”

“Nah.  They took him two days ago.  I'm gonna go hunt around a bit, see if maybe they left anything behind that'll give me an idea of who ta beat on first.  Get your stuff Shayla, and meet me out here in ten minutes.”  

Pursing her lips slightly, Shayla watched him disappear around the corner of the house heading towards the garden he slept in.  “He's in one of those moods.  This is going to get unpleasant.”  Shayla said.  “Not that I blame him.  Oh well, never a dull moment, eh Khalid?”.  With a flash of her devastating smile she walked into the mansion.

Shivering in the cold desert night, Khalid sighed at the lot the fortunes had cast him.  Never indeed.  Then he went inside to pack.

* * * * * * * * * * *​
Time passed slowly for Khalid as he fretted over the fate of his friends.  They had been gone for over a day now and the monotony of his ethereal portal was beginning to irk him.  Having a few theories of his own about who might have snatched Magol, Khalid had announced to the staff that he was leaving and instructed them to leave a note in his room when Gorak returned.  He then promptly vanished into his extra dimensional pocket, coming out only under the cloak of an invisibility spell to take some food from the kitchen.

Finally, midway through the third day, he glanced out of the portal and saw a note from the servant.  Dropping down into his bedroom, he sought out Gorak and Shayla.  He found them, engaged in conversation in antechamber off Shayla's room.  Gorak glanced up when he entered and grunted, “Where the hell have you been?”

Khalid could see the seething anger in Gorak's face, raging just below the surface.  “Ah, keeping a low profile, yes, quite.  What did you find out?”

“Nothing,” Gorak spat.  “Looks like six men grabbed him in the middle of the night.  Da bloodied a few of em and killed at least one, according to my Ma.  Then they knocked her out and dragged him off before anybody knew what was going on.  They took their wounded and headed out into the desert.  Maybe if I'd got there sooner, I coulda followed em, but the tracks were blown out a half day into the wastes.”

“Ah, I see,” Khalid said, somewhat lamely.  “Where's Gormo?”

“He's got a place in the city here.  I sent him back there to keep him out of trouble while I figure this out.” Gorak rumbled.

“Ah, Gorak, something has been bothering me the last few days.” Khalid said somewhat hesitantly.  Unnerved by Gorak's flat stare, he continued haltingly, “Ah, well, it's about Gormo.” 

“Spit it out Khalid, I ain't in no mood fer games,” Gorak growled.

“Yes, quite.  Well, ah, how exactly did Gormo know where to find you?  The last he knew, we were heading, yes, heading for Shalazar.  And it's not like he knew we were working for Arbaq, we only just met him on the way there.  Yes, quite.”  Khalid blurted out.

Gorak's usual frown darkened.  “You know, that's a damn good question.  I was so wrapped up in finding me Da that I never even figured to ask.  I don't care if he is sick,” Gorak muttered.  “I'm gonna go back there and find out what the hell is going on.”

Without another word, Gorak stormed out.  A nagging suspicion began to gnaw at Khalid as he mulled over what Gorak had said.  Frustrated and worried, he spent the next few hours in Arbaq's harem, but even that couldn't distract him.  Seeing that Gorak still hadn't returned, he idly flipped through his spellbook and penned a few notes on a new spell he'd been researching.

Finally, hearing a slamming door that could only herald Gorak's return, Khalid tucked his spellbook into his robes and sought out his friend.  As he walked by Shayla's door, he tapped lightly, and a few seconds later she emerged, her tousled red hair still damp from a recent bath.  The two of them headed down the hall to Gorak's room and walked in without knocking, knowing the huge half-orc preferred to spend his time in the garden outside.  Crawling through an open window, they found Gorak squatting on his haunches, smoking a foul smelling cigar.

“Ah, yes, what did you discover?” Khalid asked immediately.

“Nothing.  He's got some charm of Da's that he used to use to keep tabs on me.  Got one for both of us, I guess.”

“Oh,” Shayla remarked with a disappointed little sigh. “Now what do we do?” The concern was evident in her voice.

Khalid stared at the two of them as icy fear seized his heart.  He started to speak, but all that came out was a strangled little yelp.  Gorak stopped in mid sentence and both he and Shayla looked at Khalid.  Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, he realized that neither Shayla nor Gorak had  his White Tower schooling, and neither would understand the significance of that trinket.  “Ah, Gorak, a locating spell of, ah, that magnitude, on a trinket yes, that could be used at will would, ah, cost an enormous, yes, enormous,sum of gold.  Yes, quite.”

He could see the comprehension began to dawn on their faces.  “Who knows,” Gorak growled.  “Maybe Da looked at it like an investment.”

“Ah, Gorak, I'm talking thousands upon thousands of sultans.  Didn't you once, yes, once tell me that when you ran out of water on a desert, ah, walkabout, your Da wouldn't give you any, until you, ah, paid him for it?”

As much as Gorak wanted to deny it, the truth was evident.  “Then that means...”

“Halaal.” Khalid said awful finality.

“Son of a whore!” Gorak cursed.  “Then that bastard Gormo is in league with him.  When I get my hands on him, I'll throttle that dirty goblin f*lcher.”

Shayla put a restraining hand on Gorak's arm as he leapt to his feet.  “Easy Gorak.  Halaal is probably black mailing him with your father.  He might even know where we can find Magol.”

Some of Gorak's anger faded away at Shayla's calming touch.  “Doubt it,” he growled.  “Otherwise he'd have rallied the clan and stormed into the city.  Gormo ain't one for thinking things out.”

Khalid frantically wracked his brain, trying to remember a lesson at the White Tower that continued to elude him.  Sighing inwardly as he realized the details would never come to him, he spoke.  “Ah, it is quite likely, yes, quite likely indeed that he is under some sort of compulsion.  Halaal is no fool, and would quickly suspect that Gormo would, ah, as you suggested, storm the city.”

“Can you break it?” Gorak growled.

Khalid shook his head helplessly.  “Ah, Halaal was a powerful wizard, and even without his powers, he still has decades, yes, decades of accumulated magical resources at his disposal.  I am self taught, and all, yes, all of my resources have thus far been directed at keeping us alive.  Yes, quite.”

“Well, he still might know something useful,” Shayla said.  “I'll just go make _friends_ with him and we'll see what he knows.”  Her emphasis left no doubt as to what she intended.

“Ah, yes, that might be dangerous, yes, dangerous for Gormo.  Conflicting enchantments may be quite hard on his ah, shall we say, volatile, disposition.  Yes, quite.”  Khalid quickly interjected.

“How dangerous?” Gorak grunted.

“Ah, well, yes, ah...I really, yes, really don't know.” Khalid concluded rather lamely.  He was starting to suspect that perhaps at least some small part of his difficulties at the White Tower stemmed from his inattentiveness at lectures.

“Well, he knows something, that's fer damn sure,” Gorak snarled and then did that thing with his hands were he made each knuckle pop one at a time as he curled his hands into fists.  “And one way or another, we're gonna find out what.  Let's go Shayla.”

Left alone again, Khalid agonized over the situation, alternating between seething frustration at his inability to take action and futile self pity that the fates had conspired to pit him against Halaal, through no fault of his own.  He knew what would buy Magol's freedom, how he could end all of this today without any loss of life.  It meant given up everything he had worked for; everything he had dreamed of, now that it was finally in his grasp.  He remembered the long nights of fruitless study, the mocking taunts of his peers to whom magic came easily, and the derision of his instructors.  All that had changed now, and it was Khalid that they all envied.  To be cut off from the endless flow of raw power that coursed through him, Khalid could imagine nothing worse.     He wrestled with his turbulent thoughts for over an hour, before he realized that there was no decision to make.  To surrender himself, to abase himself before Halaal and throw away his livelihood, his very existence was unthinkable.  He spent a few minutes studying a few more spells, preparing for the worst, and sought out Arbaq.

Arbaq as he often was these days, was locked in his study.  Having left no specific instructions not to be disturbed, Khalid knocked rather timidly on the door, and was bid enter by Arbaq's cultured voice.  Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, he found Arbaq seated in one of the large leather armchairs, a thick tome in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.  With a snap, he closed the book and placed it on the table beside him, in order to give Khalid his full attention.  “How goes the search for Gorak's father?” he asked, with what seemed to be genuine concern.  Although with Arbaq, one was never quite sure.

“Ah, I was not aware that you had been informed. Yes, quite.” Khalid replied.

“I do try to keep abreast of what is going on in my own house,” Arbaq chastised him, albeit with a wry grin.  “I heard the disturbance, and Shayla filled me in on the details.”

“Yes, quite.  In truth it goes ah, poorly, yes, quite poorly indeed.”  Khalid hesitated for only a second, before continuing.  “It seems as though the wizard, ah,  Halaal is behind it, yes quite.  There is no question, yes, no question what he seeks from me, as you have probably surmised.”  He reached down and touched his rucksack.  He had taken to carrying around his spellbook and enough provisions for a short journey.

“Indeed, knowing the state of the White Tower, I can imagine what he wants with you, and what he is prepared to do to obtain it.” 

“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.  “It appears, yes, appears as though he has coerced Gorak's brother into serving as an, intermediary as it were.  It is quite, yes, quite likely that Gormo is ensorceled.  He has already lied to us and knowing his temperament, it is only a matter of time before he takes matters, ah, into his own hands.”

“A most distressing situation to be sure,” Arbaq said carefully as he studied Khalid with a penetrating gaze.  “What is it you would have of me?”

“Ah, nothing myself, although Gorak may ask for your help, yes, help if he is unable to wrest any information from Gormo.  Yes, quite.  I, ah, have merely come here to inform you of my intentions.”  Khalid took a deep breath and then plunged forward.  “Gorak and I have faced many, yes, many dangers together, but where his father is concerned, I do not pretend to know his mind.  It is possible, yes, quite possible that should he exhaust all other avenues, he will approach me for what Halaal seeks.  I will not permit him to take it.  Yes, I will prevent that with the full, yes, full extent of my abilities.”

Arbaq's impassive demeanor didn't change in the slightest at Khalid's declaration.  “Indeed.  Let us both hope that it does not come to that.  I suppose that if I were you, I would do the same.”  He shifted slightly in his chair and casually changed the direction of the conversation as only a seasoned merchant could.  “Ah, I see you studying the titles of some of my personal collection.”      He waved his hand expansively at the enormous bookshelves lining each wall.  In truth, it was all Khalid could do to look Arbaq in the eye when he was in this room, so enamored was he by books that surrounded him.  “Long have my studies consumed me in those few hours when I can set aside my business ventures.  I have delved deeply into ancient histories and forgotten lore, discovered things which I may be only person alive to know.   I have studied subjects both mundane and esoteric, practical and theoretical.  I have read the greatest works of literature ever written, and some of the foulest, most vile depictions sentient ritual to ever be vomited upon a page.  Take this book for example.”  He selected a thin, unassuming black book from among the many behind him and passed it to Khalid.  “Inside you will a thousand ways to inflict the most gruesome pain upon a living being.”  Khalid flipped through the book quickly, having no real interest in learning how to torture people, but curious to see where Arbaq was leading.   He paused at a peculiar looking picture until his mind sorted out the contorted figure and hideous things being done to him.  He paled slightly and hurried closed the book, handing it back to Arbaq.

“In truth, it is not a particularly original work.  However it is quite extensive,” Arbaq continued.  He put the book back upon the shelf.  “But while interesting, it does not hold the answers that I seek.  None of these books do.  My studies have gone far beyond this collection, and now I find myself hampered by my own limitations.  Everywhere I turn, I am confronted by dead ends.  Which is why I have a proposition for you.”  Instantly, Khalid knew what was coming.

“Shayla has told me that you were seeking a wealthy patron to hire you as a tutor.  Very well I wish you to teach me magick, Khalid.  There is much we could learn from one another.”

He was right, that is what Khalid had wanted, so many months ago.  Now he was no longer sure.  Certainly there was no time for it now; Gorak and Shayla needed him.  But he was honest enough with himself to realize that was not the only source of his hesitation.

Arbaq picked up on his reluctance and raised a hand before Khalid could speak.  “Of course, now is not the time for this discussion.  I ask only that you consider it, once the present circumstance has been resolved.  Now if you will excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to shortly.  Should I be able to help you in any way, do not hesitate to seek me out again.”

Summarily dismissed, Khalid had little time to consider his conversation with Arbaq, as Shayla and Gorak walked around a corner into the hall.  “There you are,” Gorak growled.  “We've been looking all over for ya.”

Seeing no signs of recent violence on either Gorak or Shayla, Khalid asked, “Ah, so how did your meeting with Gormo go?”

“Awful,” grunted Gorak.

Shayla nodded.  “Suffice it to say, Gormo doesn't like me very much any more.”

“Ah, yes, so what do we do now?” Khalid asked in a hesitant voice, eyeing Gorak carefully.

“Well, good thing for us that Gormo ain't the sharpest knife in the kitchen,” Gorak growled, with an evil grin creeping over his face.  “Soon as he threw us outta his room, he took off into the city.  We followed him to a big house on the west side of the city.”  Gorak shook his head in disgust.  “Whatever Halaal's done to him, he ain't the same no more.  He looks terrible, real sick like.  Even in the crowded streets after siesta, the old Gormo woulda known he was being stalked.”

“Ah, so I daresay I know what the plan is,” Khalid remarked.  “When?”

“No sense in waiting,” Shayla replied.  “Tonight, when it gets a little darker.”

Even Khalid was buoyed up by the prospect of action.  They each went their separate ways to prepare and reconvened to discuss tactics.  Since they didn't know if Magol was in the house, or even how many people might be there, the plan was relatively straight forward.  Gorak would scale the wall and enter through a second story window.  Once inside, he would secure a knotted rope for Khalid and Shayla, who would follow him in.  They would head downstairs immediately, in an attempt to ensure that no one had the opportunity to escape.  Where possible they would take prisoners, but there was no question that should it become necessary, there would be fatalities.

As Shayla and Gorak discussed the possible layout of the house, Khalid excused himself to make his final preparations.  He stopped a servant in the halls to ask where he could find Arbaq, and was not in the least surprised to hear that he had returned to his study.  As he walked through the halls, he considered the evening ahead of him.  It was, without question a Gorak plan that they pursued, but in all honesty, considering that it was Gorak's father at risk, it was probably appropriate.  He knocked lightly on Arbaq's door, and entered at his bidding.

“Khalid,” Arbaq said as he glanced up from an scroll on his desk, “how can I be of assistance?”

“Ah, we have found some information that may, yes, may lead us to Gorak's father.  It is probably best if you, ah, are not familiar with the details, as it is likely, yes quite likely to become unpleasant.”

“Indeed,” Arbaq said. “I would expect nothing less from Gorak.  What would you have of me then?”

“Ah, yes, well I come to ask a favor of you,” Khalid replied and at Arbaq's encouragement, continued.  “Considering, yes, considering who we are facing this evening, I would, ah, ask that you keep this safe.  Yes, quite.”  He drew out his spellbook from the satchel at his side and placed it upon the desk before Arbaq.

It was one of those rare moments when Arbaq was caught completely off-guard.   The surprise was evident on his face as he placed his hands upon the book.  “I realize what this means to you, and I must admit I am astonished that would entrust it to me.  I assure you, I will keep it safe for you, until you return.”

“Ah, excellent.  Should the unthinkable happen, and I do not return to claim it.  It is yours, yes, yours to do with as you will.”  It pained Khalid to say it, but thus far Arbaq had treated them well and he was reasonably sure that Arbaq would be able to keep it out of Halaal's clutches.

“Very well.  Luck be with you this evening.”

“Yes, quite.” Khalid agreed.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Khalid and Shayla loitered in an alley attempting to look inconspicuous while Gorak surveyed the house they were about to assault.  Pinching his nose between two fingers, Khalid nudged an enormous rat away from his foot, encouraging it to forage among the numerous piles of garbage that littered the cramped alley.  Finally, just when he thought he wouldn't be able to tolerate the stench any longer, Gorak waved them forward.

“Alright,” Gorak growled, “let’s go.”

Khalid started to walk gingerly out of the alley, carefully watching where he put his feet to avoid the most fetid piles of offal.  He was just about to step into the street, when Gorak placed a hand on his chest and shoved him backwards into Shayla.

“Sh*t!” Gorak hissed.  “It’s Gormo.  Get back.”

They scrambled back into the alley and attempted to conceal themselves, but the narrow passage afforded little in the way of cover.  Khalid quickly discarded the idea of hiding in one of the mounds of filth, as the inevitable retching would certainly give them away.  Holding his breath in fear now, rather than disgust, Khalid watched the street intently, praying fervently to whatever Gods might still be listening to shield them from Gormo’s eye.

The Gods it seemed, had as much love for Khalid as he did for them.  As Gormo emerged into view, he stopped almost directly opposite the mouth of the alley and let out an enormous sneeze.  Hawking up a gob of phlegm, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and looked up straight at Gorak.  His lips drew back in a feral snarl as he realized what was going on.

“Cut him off,” Gorak hissed as he darted out into the middle of the street.  Khalid and Shayla followed close on his heels and took up positions on either side, blocking the street and preventing Gormo from returning to the house they were about to assault.

Gormo stared intently at Khalid, with a fierce hunger raging in his bloodshot eyes.  He tensed up as though he were going to lunge forward, then thought better of it as Gorak moved to intercept him.  With a curse, he turned on his heel and fled down the narrow, twisting streets of Gem-Sharad.

“After him!” Gorak barked as he shoved aside a startled citizen and gave chase.   Khalid and Shayla followed close behind and for a few frantic minutes, they ran through the streets, through the thinning crowds of curious onlookers.  Finally, Gorak skidded to a stop and held up his hand.  “Enough.” he panted, “We're never gonna catch Gormo, he's too damn fast.”

“Ah, then what do we do now?” Khalid asked, breathing heavily from the sudden exertion.

“Go back,” Gorak grunted.  “Finish what we started.  With any luck Gormo's gonna keep running for a bit.”

They turned back and hurried through the streets as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention.  When they finally reached the house, Gorak paused and assessed the situation.  Faint light trickled through the shuttered windows, but there was no sign of any disturbance from within.  With a jerk of his head, Gorak led them around the side of the building and aided by his magic, easily scuttled up the side of the wall.  Khalid breathed a sigh of relief as Gorak forced open the unlocked second story window and climbed quietly inside.   A moment later, a rope dropped down.  Shayla wasted no time in climbing gracefully up to the second floor.  Khalid waited until she was almost in the window, and then with a deep breath, grabbed the rope with both hands.  

The knots in the rope made it much easier, but physical exertion had never come easily to Khalid.  Pausing for a second to adjust his grip, he leaned back and glanced around as the sound of footsteps reached his ears.  He froze, motionless on the rope, hoping it was just a random stranger walking down the street.

“Open up!” Gormo's voice ripped through the night, causing Khalid to almost lose his balance.

“Gorak,” Khalid hissed over the dreadful racket coming from the back door of the house.  “Ah, what should we do?”

“Get up here!” Gorak growled as he hauled on the rope, dragging Khalid into the room.  Clipping his head on the window on his way through, Khalid stumbled and fell heavily to the floor.  Groggily, he looked up just in time to see Gorak throw open the door and lunge out into the hall, followed closely by Shayla.  Staggering to his feet, Khalid moved to follow as Shayla cried out the words to a spell.  Her musical voice mingled with Gorak's thick growl as he spat out the words to his own incantation.

Khalid had almost reached the door when he heard Shayla shriek, “No!  Please don't hurt me!”  

Reaching into a pouch at his waist for a handful of mica, Khalid flinched as something soft and sticky brushed across the back of his neck.  Glancing up, his eyes widened in surprise as thousands of thick white strands began to drift down through the air, settling on his head and shoulders.  Half blind, Khalid frantically tried to brush them away realizing to his growing horror, that they were congealing around his feet.  In a matter of seconds, the entire room was covered in thick webbing and Khalid was completely ensnared.  With one hand glued to the top of his head and the other tangled at his hip, he sagged against his bindings, defeated.  Try as he might, he couldn't free his hands and although mere inches away, his component pouch may well have been on the other side of the sun.  Grinding his teeth in impotent fury as Gorak cried out in pain, Khalid had never felt more helpless.


----------



## Look_a_Unicorn

Mistakes? I see no mistakes!

Excellent story


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## Miln

Thanks for the update!  That was a good one.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Glad to see you're keeping this excellent storyhour going, Eternal N.


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## EternalNewbie

Shayla cried out again, pleading with her attackers.  Seizing upon every ounce of his strength, Khalid thrashed against the magical webbing holding him.  Although some strands broke, everytime he moved, more and more of the sticky filments clung to him.  His breath coming in short ragged gasps, he slumped down, exhausted.  _'Think Khalid!'_ he admonished himself.  _'There is a way out of this!'_  Repeating a simple mantra designed to aid concentration before casting, he forced his breathing to slow down.  He closed his eyes and tuned out the sounds around him. Shayla's voice faded away, as did Gorak's chanting.  _'Spells are out,'_ he thought to himself.  _'Can't reach my components and none of the ones without will help me, even if I can manage them.  What else?'_  He remembered the dagger, tucked in a sheath at the small of his back.  _'No good.  This stuff is too thick, it'll just get stuck.  What else can I reach?  Potion belt.  Healing potion, universal antidote, goblin fir...”_  Khalid's eyes flew open.  He had one vial left of the vicious goblin naptha that burned when exposed to air.  _'It might be enough to burn the webbing'_.   Wincing as the gooey strands tore the hair off his arm, he managed to shift enough to pull the bottle from his belt.  He was about to hurl it to the floor then stopped.   _'Careful.  There's webbing everywhere.  If it doesn't break, you're finished.'_  He slowly slid his thumbnail around the lip of the bottle, breaking the wax seal.  Working the cork back and forth between his fingers, he loosened it as much as he dared.  Glancing around, he found an open patch of floor, then took a deep breath to steady his nerves.  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the vial on the floor in front of him.  _'It worked!'_ he thought as the vial shattered and erupted into flame.  The webbing around the spot where the vial landed was consumed instantly.  Khalid realized quickly that he hadn't fully considered the ramifications of his plan.  He screamed in agony as the flames raced across the webs attached him, badly burning his face and hands.  Collapsing to the ground, he rolled around frantically, trying to extinguish his smoldering clothing.*

Another shout from Gorak snapped him out of his initial shock and Khalid scrambled to his feet.   Taking stock of the situation, he saw that his robes were only slighly singed, but angry red blisters were quickly rising on his face and hands where the webbing had been attached.   The room was full of thick black smoke, but the doorway and a good part of the hall were clear of webbing.  The sound of  Shayla's voice jerked him into action and Khalid cried out, “Ah Shayla, if you're caught, use the goblin fire, yes, fire oil to burn away the webbing!”

Stepping out into the hallway, Khalid's vision in either direction was completely obscured by thick webbing.  He could hear Gorak cursing from his right, but couldn't see anything.  Glancing to the left, he flinched at the sound a detonating vial of naptha and a sooty orange glow lit up the passage.  She, like Khalid, cried out in pain as the flames scorched her.  More black smoke billowed through the hall and the webbing in front of Khalid thinned drastically.  He could barely make out Shayla freeing herself from the last wispy strands of blackened web.  Unfortunately for Gorak, the goblin fire oil burned itself out almost immediately.  The passage that way still completely blocked.

Hearing Shayla still pleading with her attacker, followed by the unmistakable sound of breaking glass, Khalid bit his lip and considered his options.  Both ways were still covered in webbing, but there was absolutely no way to reach Gorak.  Lowering his head, Khalid charged forward, bursting through the last few feet of webbing, and emerged behind Shayla almost crashing into her.

“Khalid!” Shayla cried.  “I charmed one of them!  He's got a wand, but he couldn't get a clear shot at you past me.  When things started catching on fire, he jumped at that window at the end of the hallway.”

Khalid glanced at Shayla.  Her hair was singed and her clothing blackened, but she didn't look much worse for the ordeal.  As she moved towards the window, Khalid grabbed her arm.  “Ah, that is not a good idea I think.  Yes, quite.  You may have charmed that wizard, yes, but Gormo is still out there somewhere.  Ah, you'd better let me.”  Without waiting for her answer, Khalid enacted one of his recent discoveries, and faded from sight.  “Ah, you try to free Gorak, I'll circle, yes, circle around and come in through the front.”

“Neat trick,” Shayla remarked as she pulled out a torch from her backpack and thrust it into a small fire that was still burning fitfully along the base of the wall.  She turned away and began to walk down the hall, sweeping the torch in front of her.

Watching her for a second, Khalid noticed that the hallway was filling with more smoke, despite the fact that most of the fires from the goblin naptha had burned out.  Shaking his head to dimiss the thought, he moved over to the window and quickly cleared the glass away.  Grabbing on to the sill with both hands, he lowered himself out the window carefully, breathing heavily with the exertion.  As he let go, it occurred to him that if he fell and cracked his skull open on the ground below, nobody would be able to find him.   With a grunt, he landed easily on his feet then held his breath and listened carefully for a second as he pulled out a healing salve and applied it to his burns.  Hearing nothing, he assumed Gormo and the other assailant had fled, and circled around to the front of the house.  Moving as quickly as he dared, he stopped and peered in a window.

Khalid had, over the past few months, seen a lot of strange things.  He was nevertheless, completely unprepared for what lay beyond the window.  Through the clouds of smoke he saw Hazal, a former apprentice of the White Tower and one of Halaal's bully boys, come crashing down a flight of stairs.  He looked completely paniced.  His robes were shredded and burned, and slick with blood from the waist down.  At the bottom of the stairs, he stumbled in his haste and shattered a chair into kindling as he fell.   Chasing him was an gigantic rat, easily the size of a small dog, that slavered and snapped at his feet.  Taking advantage of his prone condition, the rat bit him savagely on the thigh and Hazal screamed in pain.  Shouting out an arcane command, Hazal jabbed at the rat with a thin metallic wand in his left hand.  The rat stiffened and flopped over, twitching slightly before disolving into a wisp of greenish smoke.

Hazal's attack bought him only a brief respite.   With a shriek he rolled frantically out of the way as a two foot high orb of pure flame came bouncing down the stairs and almost landed on him.  Scrambling to his feet, he turned and lunged at the window.  Staring in stunned amazement, Khalid barely dodged aside as Hazal smashed through the window and hit the wall on the other side with a meaty thud.  Shaking his head to clear the shock, Hazal pushed off the wall to his feet, and staggered out of the alley.

Invisible, Khalid crept out behind him and trying to make his voice as ominious as possible, whispered in his ear.  “Ah, I suggest you drop that wand.”

Whirling around, Hazal raised the wand defensively.  Seeing no one, he started to back away slowly, prompting Khalid to hiss,  “Drop it, before I lose my patience boy! Yes quite!”

Wounded and faced with an opponent he couldn't see, Hazal complied, dropping the wand and kicking it away.  He raised his hands to show they were empty.  Glancing over his shoulder, Khalid realized that the amount of smoke coming out of the house could only mean they had started a serious fire inside.  One that was likely to draw a lot of attention.  He desperately wanted to find Gorak and Shayla, but he knew his spell wouldn't last much longer.  “Move, yes, move down the street.  Quickly!  Take the first, yes, the first alley on your left.”

Hazal complied, and Khalid followed closely behind, when they turned down the alley, he urged Hazal onward.  “Keep going.  Ah, turn right here, and then left down the next alley.”  They walked quickly through the streets this way, with Khalid hissing directions every time they were faced with a choice.  After a few minutes, Khalid told him to stop.

“Sit down,”  he ordered Hazal.  As Hazal slumped to the ground, Khalid considered his next move.  Deciding he had no time to spare, he got straight to the point.  “Ah, I want to know where you're holding Magol, and I want to know right now,” he said in what he hoped was a threatening voice.

Hazal stiffened slightly, then his eyes narrowed.  “Or you'll what Khalid?” he taunted.  “Kill me?  I don't think you have it in you.  You're no murderer.”

Khalid cursed inwardly as Hazal spoke his name.  He had hoped to maintain his anominity.  Thinking quickly, he said, “Ah, you have tormented, yes, tormented me from the day I met you.  You have used you position as Halaal's pet to bully and ridcule me.  You have kidnapped my friend's father in an effort to bend me, yes, bend me to your masters will.  I assure you, it is all I can do, my friend, to stop myself from killing you.  Yes, quite.”

Hazal glanced around nervously, and licked his lips.  “You won't do it, there's too many people around.  Your spell won't hide you.”

“Ah, are you so sure?” Khalid asked, hoping that Hazal had paid as little attention at the lessons as he had.  The spell would indeed fail if he interacted to violently with his surroundings, but he knew Hazal hadn't been powerful enough to cast it when the flow of magic was altered.  Sweat was dripping from Hazal's face and his breathing was harsh and ragged.   It was all Khalid could do from laughing aloud.  Hazal didn't know the limitations of the spell and he was close, so close, to telling Khalid what he wanted to know.  Khalid crept quietly around behind him, and leaned in close,  “And besides, your master has accused me of treason.  What, yes, what are they going to do?  Hang me twice?”

Hazal jerked away at the feeling of Khalid's breath on the back of his neck.  For a second he looked as though he might flee.  And then he broke.  “Okay, okay!  I'll tell you,” he gasped.  “He's in a warehouse, down near the river.”  He rattled off an address in a part of Gem-Sharad that Khalid was familiar with.  “Now let me go!  I gave you what you wanted.  Just let me go!”

Khalid was fairly certain Hazal was too scared to lie.  There had been no hesitation when he gave the location and it was indeed in a part of town filled with warehouses.  The buildings were large, and the streets relatively unpopulated.  The perfect place to keep a hostage.  Khalid knew, however, that if he let Hazal go, he would run straight to the White Tower.   Tieing him up wasn't an option, he didn't have anything suitable, and there was no way he was going to get that close to Hazal.  Even wounded, Khalid didn't feel at all confident in his ability to render him unconcious in a stand up fight, and that would probably draw far to much unwanted attention.  Running through his repetoire, he knew he had two spells available to him to subdue Hazal.  One that would almost certainly kill him, and one which possibly render him unconsicious, if he could overcome Hazal's White Tower training.  Khalid sighed as he reached for a pinch of sand.  Hazal was a bully and a fool, but it was possible that he simply wasn't as clever as Khalid at avoiding Halaal's domination.  It was entirely likely that he was caught up in something far beyond his depth and as much as Khalid disliked him, he didn't deserve to die.**

Hazal started to move the instant Khalid began to cast.  He leapt to his feet and headed towards the end of the alley as Khalid finished his spell.  As the sand drifted from his fingers, he knew the spell had failed, and Hazal disappeared around the corner.  Thinking quickly, Khalid laughed to himself and tossed caution to the wind.  Sprinting out of the end of the alley, he began to give chase.

Wounded and exhausted, Hazal quickly flagged and began to slow.  Clutching at his side, he turned at the sound of Khalid's footsteps behind him.  His lip curled as he spat, “What are you going to do Khalid?  This is a crowded street.”

Khalid glanced around, and realized Hazal was right.  Even this late at night, they were on a main street and there were several people within sight.  “Ah, yes, I'm not quite done with you yet.  Yes, quite.  I think I'll relieve of that belt you're wearing.”  Hanging at Hazal's waist were several scrolls, potions and another wand.

“I'll call for the guards,” Hazal threatened.

Khalid shrugged and stepped in closer.  “Ah, yes, as I said, if they're going to hang me for treason, they might as well hang me for murder as well.  Yes, quite.”

A few curious onlookers had drifted closer, to get a better look at what was obviously a serious confrontation.  “What's going on here?” demanded a squat little man in lurid purple pantaloons and a bright red fez, as he twirled the oiled end of his mustache between his fingers.

“Ah, this man has stolen something from me,” Khalid replied easily, as a crowd began to gather.  Wearing the finest Arbaq's tailor had to offer and confronting a man that dressed in ragged, filthy robes that reeked like alley runoff, Khalid knew he had the crowd on his side.

Hazal's eyes darted around nervously as he realized people were gathering behind Khalid, and glaring at him suspiciously.  Tired and wounded, he couldn't think of a way to deflect Khalid's accusation.  He started to back away, which only served to make him look more guilty, and then stopped when he saw a few people circle around behind him.

Khalid leaned in close and whispered, “Neither, yes, neither of us wants to explain this to the Sultan's guards.  Hand over what I want and you can go.”

Beaten again, Hazal cursed and removed the belt, tossing it at Khalid's feet.  With a smirk, Khalid bent down and picked up the belt.  “Ah, thank you for returning what is rightfully mine.  Get from my sight you miserable, yes, miserable cur, before I call for the guards.”

Shaking in impotent fury, Hazal turned on his heel and fled down the street.  The squat little man that had first spoke up, clapped Khalid on the arm.  “Generous of you.  I'd have had the guards take a hand off him if he'd taken my purse.”

Nodding distractedly, Khalid quickly excused himself from the crowd and rushed back to the house in search of Gorak and Shayla.  As he turned the corner, he saw a large crowd gathered around a rather impressive fire.  Men near the front were hauling buckets of water from the well and tossing them on the surrounding buildings, having apparently decided that it was too late to save the house.  Hanging near the back of the crowd, he searched for his friends.  Not seeing them among the gaping faces watching the fire, he turned to leave when he noticed a small boy of about eight playing with a oddly carved stick.  Recognizing Hazal's wand, he knelt down beside the child.

“Ah, that belongs to me.” Khalid said.

“No it don't,” the boy replied beligerently, brushly his bangs out of his eyes and looking at Khalid.  “I found it in the gutter over there.”

“Ah, nevertheless, it is mine.  I will reward, yes, reward you for finding it for me.” Khalid replied.

“I dunno, it's all polished, and it's got these funny marks all carved in it.  I think that might be gold too.  I wanna keep it.”

“Ah, that is not gold, but this, yes, this is,” Khalid said as he pulled a sultana from his purse.  “Surely this is worth more than a polished stick? Yes quite.”

The boys eyes lit up at the sight of the coin, then a cunning look crossed his face.  “If'n its worth one sultana to you, maybe it's worth two.” he countered.

“Done,” Khalid replied and gave the boy two sultanas in exchange for the wand.  Standing up, Khalid left the burning house and found a secluded side street.  Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he summoned a mount.  Practically leaping into the saddle, he rode hard for Arbaq's mansion, hoping to catch up to Gorak and Shayla on the way.

A quarter hour later, Khalid tossed the reins to a startled guard as he dismounted in the mansion's courtyard.  Seeking out Arbaq, he found him reading in his study.  Arbaq glanced up from his book as Khalid burst into his office.

“Ah, have you seen Gorak and Shayla?” Khalid panted as he collapsed into an armchair, trying to catch his breath.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Arbaq replied as he handed Khalid his spellbook.  His brow furrowed in concern.  “How did everything go?”

“Ah, yes, well there was a battle,” Khalid said as he poured himself a generous glass of wine.  Between gulps, he continued, “We got separated, yes, separated, but I managed to discern the location of Gorak's father.  But we must move quickly.  Yes, quite quickly.”

“Indeed,” was all Arbaq replied.

“Ah, they may have taken a different way back.  Yes, quite.  And I was on horseback, so it's quite, yes quite possible that they are close behind me,” Khalid said hopefully, as the waterclock on the mantle counted away the minutes that decided Magol's fate.

* * * * * * * * * *​
* Galeman let me roll the damage on the flaming web.  Naturally, I took max.

** The other spell I had left was burning hands.  I was fairly certain that it would have killed him outright and, even though Khalid hated the guy, he wasn't prepared to kill him by burning him alive. It was a tough choice, as I was fairly certain that sleep wasn't going to work (he might have even been too high to affect).  I forgot why I started chasing him (I do remember that part of it was simply because he was so scared of me, I couldn't resist).  I think I was still trying to work out a way to stop him without killing him, but it didn't really work out.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Very nice update, EternalN. I can fully appreciate Khalid acting on impulse like that - he can't have had many people afraid of him in the past, and I can well imagine him wanting to revel in it. Methinks Galeman was rather generous letting you recover the wand for a mere 2gp, though. If I'd been DMing and you'd run off and left it, it would probably have disappeared without a trace (at least until reappearing in the hands of someone who could use it with hostile intent).

Keep the updates coming ...


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## EternalNewbie

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Methinks Galeman was rather generous...




Galeman? Generous?  That actually made me laugh out loud.  Of course if he reads that, he's gonna think people are getting the wrong impression, and figure out some way to strip us of all our equipment and strand us in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by enemies.

Oh, wait, nevermind.  That's how we finished the last session...


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## pogre

Glad to see you are writing again.


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## TaranTheWanderer

Look_a_Unicorn said:
			
		

> Mistakes? I see no mistakes!




Some time ago, EternalN challenged our faithful readers to find a mistake made by the party.  

If you read back to the part where we were being tracked by the gnoll through the desert, you'll notice that Gorak used a spell -endure elements- to protect his comrads from the heat.  By doing this, we were able to continue to travel through the hottest part of day without stopping.  While it didn't stop the enemy from catching us, it did succeed in running one of his dogs dead (which is why we fought 2 dogs instead of three).

So where's the mistake?  Had I just cast "pass without trace", we would have easily escaped.
EternalN was nice enough in the SH to make it look like Gorak was trying "test" a rival trackers skill... Ho hum, and it won't be the last mistake Gorak makes...darn tree-hugging druid


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## SunTzu89

*Bring this Back!*

Ok, I read this SH back when it was being posted... i found it to be a WONDERFUL SH and would love to know... what happened to it? If it could be brought back, i would love to keep reading it. To anyone else, i would definitely say read this SH. It is wonderfully written and I am sure you would enjoy this. I am just giving it a long, well deserved BUMP.


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## EternalNewbie

The sound of a slamming door jerked Khalid from his morbid reverie.  An exquisite crystal goblet, half filled with brandy, tumbled from his hand as he leapt to his feet.  Only the thick carpet saved it from shattering into a thousand pieces as hit the floor with a dull thump.  Glancing guiltily at Arbaq as the amber liquid poured out on the priceless rug, Khalid saw only concern on Arbaq's normally impassive face.  Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and before Khalid could reach the door, it flew open and Gorak entered, followed closely by Shayla.  At the sight of Khalid, relief flooded into their eyes but before they could speak, Khalid cried, “Where have you been?  I extracted the location of your father from Hazal!”

Gorak's lip curled as he looked at the intricate Dwerro waterclock resting on Arbaq's desk.  Nearly two hours had passed since their assault.  “Did you kill him?” he growled.

“Ah, I couldn't,” Khalid stuttered, “there were too many people about. I surely, yes, surely would have been apprehended.”  It was as much of the truth as Khalid was willing to admit.

Shayla's shoulders slumped in defeat, “Then he's warned the Tower.  We're too late.”

“Where did you go?” Khalid demanded.

“Back to Gormo's inn.  We figured it was a bust, and we were gonna try an' grab him but he never showed,” Gorak snarled.  “Why didn't...” he bit off the last part of the question.  Khalid had stayed well clear of Gormo, and had never been to the inn.  Shaking his head, Gorak growled, “Maybe he didn't have time...” he trailed off, then cursed.  “We gotta try.”*

Whirling around, Gorak strode out of Arbaq's study.  Khalid and Shayla practically had to run to keep up with him as he headed to the stables.  Kicking the stable boy awake, Gorak grabbed a  saddle and threw it over his horse.  In minutes they were riding hard through the darkened streets of Gem-Sharad.   Crouched low over the necks of their mounts, they urged them to the limits of their endurance as they navigated the twisting streets of the city at breakneck speed.   A few blocks away from the address Hazal had provided, they pulled up and led their horses into an alley.    Hitching them to a door handle,  Gorak waved Khalid and Shayla back as he muttered a spell while cautiously approaching the building.  Placing his hands lightly on the wall, he crept up the side of the warehouse with unnatural grace.  He paused briefly outside a second story window, prying it open and then vanishing into the darkness.

The seconds passed slowly as Khalid and Shayla waited in anxious silence.  After a few minutes, Gorak came around the corner of the building.  One look at Gorak's clenched jaw, told Khalid everything he need to know.  Thick cords stood out on Gorak's neck, as he ground his teeth in impotent fury.  Magol wasn't there.  They mounted their horses and rode back to Arbaq's in silence.  Tossing the reins to the bleary eyed stable boy, Gorak vanished around the side of Arbaq's mansion.  Shayla, practically stumbling with exhaustion, made her way to her room.

Tired as he was, Khalid knew sleep would be a long time in coming.  Shrugging off the various tools of his trade, he sat down at his desk, thinking perhaps a few hours of study would settle his uneasy mind.  After a few minutes, he closed the book he was reading with a frustrated snap.  Even the familiar touch of his worn and battered spellbook wasn't enough to calm Khalid's chaotic thoughts.  Without really knowing why, Khalid clambered out the window into the garden, and went in search of Gorak.

Inadvertently trampling a delicate bush of pale lavender flowers, Khalid paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness.  Picking his way through the neat, orderly rows of plants, he headed to a small semi circle of palm trees at the center of the garden.  As he approached, he saw Gorak sitting motionless at the base of one of the trees, his eyes closed.  Stopping at the edge of the circle, Khalid hesitated, trying to decide if Gorak was awake or asleep, and if he should disturb him.  

Finally, Gorak's eyes flashed open and he growled, “Fer the love of the lost gods Khalid, either sit your arse down or go away, just don't stand there wheezing.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered, thankful that the darkness hid his embarrassment.  “I, ah, couldn't sleep,” he added, somewhat unnecessarily as he looked around for a comfortable spot.  Settling at the base of a tree beside Gorak, he gathered his robes around him to ward off the night's chill.  He couldn't help but marvel at Gorak's ability to ignore the demands of his surroundings, clad as he was in only a loincloth in the rapidly cooling desert air.  As the silence became oppressive, Khalid finally worked up the nerve to ask, “Ah, yes, what, yes what do we do next?”

“Whadda ya think we should do next Khalid?” Gorak growled, with a bitterness that was unsurprising.

In the pale light of the half moon, Khalid could see Gorak staring intently at him.  Finding no reassurance in that cold, black stare, he replied cautiously, “Ah, yes, well, you see, I'm not exactly sure.  Yes, quite.”

“Well then,” Gorak snarled, “I'll tell you what we're gonna do.  We're gonna get the hell outta Gem-Sharad.

Surprised, Khalid was unable to find his voice for a moment.  Gorak was the last person he expected to suggest flight.  “Ah, yes, that is certainly an option, yes, quite.  But what about Magol?”

“How exactly are we going to find him now, Khalid?” Gorak raged, frustration twisting his rugged features.  “Those two bastard will sure as hell stay clear of us now.  Gormo is impossible to find, when he don't wanna be found and you can be damn sure Halaal's gonna put some real guards around him this time, even if we knew where to look.”

“Ah, yes, but...” Khalid began.

“And besides,” Gorak continued, ignoring the interruption, “Do you really think you're ready to face Halaal, now that he knows we're back in town and ready for us?”  He glared furiously at Khalid.

“Ah, no, not quite.”  Khalid answered truthfully, when he was certain Gorak had finished his rant.  “Even without his spellbooks, he has accumulated a lifetime of artifacts and scrolls.  I would not present much, yes much of a challenge.

“Indeed,” Gorak sneered sarcastically.  “So tomorrow we go to Arbaq and tell him we need to get outta here.  He don't have no use for us sitting around, so you can bet he's got something lined up.”

“But Gorak,” Khalid said hesitantly, “Your father...”  Having spent most of his life alone, Khalid couldn't imagine not trying again.

“You know the most important thing my old man ever taught me?” Gorak snarled as he jumped to his feet.  “Look to your own arse first.  And he made damn sure I'll never forget it.”  Twisting so Khalid could see the thick lattice of scars that covered his back.  “First thing tomorrow we talk to Arbaq,” he said dismissively, ending the conversation as he walked out of the garden.

Sighing heavily, Khalid stood up and dusted off his robes.  Having spent a great deal of time with Gorak in the last few weeks, he'd seen the scars before, but had always assumed that they had been earned in the desert against some ferocious beast.  Still, Khalid wanted nothing more than to be out of Gem-Sharad.  He was definitely not prepared to confront Halaal, and if he had his way, never would.  Thinking about the frustration and rage that were consuming Gorak, he almost felt guilty abandoning Magol.  Almost.

* * * * * * * * * * *​
When they spoke to him the next morning, Arbaq already had something in mind, although he had not quite finalized the details.  Three days had passed since their conversation in the garden, and Khalid hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words with Gorak since.  Khalid was just responding to Arbaq's summons on the morning of the third day, when he met Shayla at an intersection of hallways, looking somewhat perplexed as she considered the paths before her.

“Khalid.” she said brightly, a smile playing across her beautiful features “Where are we supposed to meet Arbaq?”

“Ah, yes, this way I believe,” Khalid replied as he gestured towards the corridor on the right.  Arbaq had requested they join him not in the study as usual, but in another room in the wing that housed his private chambers.

As they navigated the maze of hallways, Khalid chatted aimlessly with Shayla.  “I think this is it,” he said as he opened the door.  The reason Arbaq had summoned them to this room was immediately apparent.  Maps of every sort hung from the walls.  Covering the floor of the room was an enormous mosaic map of, as far as Khalid could tell, the entire known world crafted in exquisite detail.  Arbaq stood at the far end of the room, dressed in his customary black, conversing quietly with a towering figure covered head to foot in soft grey robes.  The thick folds of the stranger's cowl hung low, concealing his features.  As he gestured at the map beneath their feet, the sleeve of his robe pulled back, and Khalid was surprised to see a wrapping of tight bandages completely covering his hand and forearm.  Something about the stranger's posture and demeanor instantly made Khalid uncomfortable.

“Ah, welcome my friends,” Arbaq greeted them.  “I expect Gorak will be joining us shortly.”  No sooner had he said the words, that Gorak walked through the door, absently slamming it behind him.

“Excellent.  Now that we are all here,” Arbaq continued, “let us get started.  As you have requested,” he looked pointedly at Gorak, “I have a task that will take you out of Gem-Sharad...”  Khalid's spirits rose immediately and he leaned forward intently, “...and into the Eastern kingdom.”  Khalid sighed and slumped back against the wall, trying to ignore the queasy feeling that settled into the pit of his stomach.  “My informant,” Arbaq waved a hand at the robed figure, “has obtained some interesting information that I need you to verify.”

“Um, Arbaq, isn't the East full of Dwerro right now?” Shayla interrupted.

“Indeed.”

“We aren't Dwerro,” Shayla pointed out, somewhat unnecessarily.

“A fact that has not escaped me, my dear,” Arbaq replied dryly.  “Indulge me a moment, and I will explain.  There is a mountain, far to the northeast, that stands alone in the plains.  It is said to be the ruins of an ancient Dwerro citadel that is considered sacrosanct by them.  They will not venture into it, and there is little within a hundred miles that would interest the Dwerro military.  It is highly unlikely that their scouts, much less any part of their actual army will be anywhere in the vicinity.”

“I need you to travel to this peak, gain entry and search the ruins for any information on the forging of adamantine.”

“Easy enough,” Gorak grunted sarcastically, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk.  “But tell me how,” he continued, echoing Khalid's thoughts, “are we going to get across the mountains?”

“There are three routes,” Arbaq replied.  “The central path, and the easiest to get to, is of course barred by the Dwerro.”

“Ah, perhaps yes, perhaps no,” Khalid said.  “We have certain ways, yes, ways around that.   It would however, likely require promises I am not prepared to keep and place us in the middle of the Dwerro army, most of which doesn't owe us any favors.  Still, it may be an option.  Yes, quite.”

“Indeed,” Arbaq agreed.  “The second path is weeks to the south, through the jungle and around the tip of the mountain range.  

“That's gonna put us on the wrong side of the Dwerro army,” Gorak pointed out.  “We're gonna be traveling for months through poorly mapped and heavily occupied territory.”

“That's if we even make it through the jungle, Khalid said glumly, staring at the vast expanse of green tile beneath his feet.

“The jungle don't bother me, but the Dwerro, they're gonna be hell and a half to get by.  What's the next choice?”

“Giant path.”

“Ah, yes, so called because it is large, and well marked?” Khalid asked hopefully.

“Well, that, and the tribe of mountain giants that call it home,” Arbaq replied.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid sighed despondently.  “I suppose its the jungle and the Dwerro then,” he said morosely.

“There is another way,” the cloaked figure rasped as he stepped forward into the center of the map.

At the sound of his thick, hoarse voice, a nagging sense of familiarity  gripped Khalid.  Glancing nervously at Arbaq, he forced himself to take a deep, slow breath and focus on the conversation.  After all, he reasoned, Arbaq trusted this informant, and that was good enough.

“...fraught with danger,” the cloaked figure continued, a thought which evidently amused him as he uttered a shorting barking laugh.	“It is known only to the locals, and me of course.”  Again, the man let out a short, hiccuping laugh that made Khalid question his sanity.  “There are many places to go astray along the path, but I know the route.  It begins here.”  The informant stooped down and dragged a gnarled twisted fingernail across the mountains, far to the north.

“What's that town there?” Gorak stabbed a thick finger at the map, near where the stranger had indicated.

“Daggerfall,” Arbaq replied.

“Sounds pleasant,” Shayla said. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

The meeting concluded, Khalid sighed and headed to his room to pack.

* * * * * * * * * * *​
Three days of hard riding was enough to make Khalid long for Gem-Sharad and Halaal's vengeance, which had to be quicker than the slow, agonizing pounding that jarred his bones and hammered his muscles into quivering jelly.  They had headed northeast, and hit the foothills of the mountains on the afternoon of the third day.  Along the thin band of hills that framed the mountains, the land was somewhat more forgiving.  Mountain runoff fed innumerable small streams that trickled down out of the hills, providing enough water to sustain the coarse golden grass that extended out in patches and clumps to the edge of the desert..  Opening his eyes, Khalid blinked in the bright sunlight, and stretched slowly.  Seeing Gorak and Shayla staring at him worriedly, he sat up quickly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.  “Ah, yes, what is it?” he asked.  “Did I miss breakfast?”

“You almost were breakfast,” Gorak snorted as he pointed at the carcasses of two badly burned leopards nearby.  “They knocked you offa your horse and had your skinny shanks halfway into the hills before we dusted them.”**

“Are you okay?” Shayla asked, the concern evident in her tone.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid replied as he stood up, thankful he had remained unconscious until after Gorak had finished mending his wounds.  “No permanent, yes, permanent damage it would seem, except to my pride.”  He examined the tattered remains of his clothing with a critical eye.  “And, ah, to my robes it seems. I should have brought more.” he said mournfully.

That bit of unpleasantness behind them, they rode late into the evening, and started again far to early in the morning to suit Khalid.  For the hundredth time, he cursed Gorak's penchant for early morning meditation as he stumbled into the saddle after a cold, bland meal of dried fruits and bread.  The sun crept across the sky with agonizing slowness as Khalid dozed lightly in his saddle.   Dreaming idly about enchanting his robes to be tear proof, he almost tumbled from his saddle as Gorak startled him awake.

“Huh.  That's a funny looking tree.  Wonder what it's doing way out here?” He rumbled as he jumped down off his horse.  Casually picketing it to the ground, he began to walk towards the small, squat tree.

Always eager for a break, Khalid followed suit and dismounted gingerly.  He clutched at his saddle horn as his legs wobbled underneath him.  Gritting his teeth as the feeling slowly tingled back into his numb legs, he watched as Gorak, with Shayla trailing behind him, headed towards the odd little tree.  

Although Khalid had no particular interest in herbology, he could see what had attracted Gorak's attention.  While there was enough water to sustain the waves of golden grass that covered the hills, there wasn't another tree in sight.  And the tree itself was peculiar.  Only slightly taller than Khalid's six feet, it had an enormous trunk, almost five feet around.  Clusters of tiny red fruit dotted the branches, and the dark, waxy green leaves rustled in the breeze.  Khalid frowned slightly as the leaves rippled again.   Where he was standing, the air was still, without the hint of a breeze.  “Ah, Gorak,” he called out in warning, just as all hell broke loose.

The grass at Gorak and Shayla's feet began to whip about in a frenzy, wrapping tightly around their legs and anchoring them firmly to the ground.  Fortunately for Khalid, the creature's reach stopped just short of where he was standing, and he remained free of the entangling plants.  Ropey vines, as thick as a man's arm, uncoiled from the branches of the tree and shot out, reaching for Gorak, who recoiled and raised his club defensively.  In unison, Shayla and Gorak began to chant, as Khalid carefully circled the perimeter of the plant's influence.   As Shayla finished her spell, Khalid watched with mounting concern as the spinning discs of force she cast out ricocheted off the trunk with little effect.  Gorak was rewarded with nothing more than a scorch mark as his hand burst into flame at the culmination of his spell, and he launched a glowing orb of flame at the tree.

“Khalid, you'd better get in this!” Gorak barked as the tree gave a shuddering lurch and moved forward several feet towards him.  The huge vines curled around his waist and Gorak grunted as the air was forced from his lungs beneath the plant's crushing grasp.

Khalid, shaking his head in disbelief at the rampaging foliage, mentally ran through his prepared spells in dismay.  The creatures ability to manipulate its surroundings was forcing Khalid out of range of his most powerful spells.  Deciding to take a chance, he began to run through the complex intonations of a summoning spell.  His eyes closed, he could hear Shayla shriek out the final words to another spell and then curse in frustration.  By the vile epithet that Gorak delivered, Khalid was certain his situation was becoming desperate. 

Suddenly Khalid was gripped with a fierce panic as his spell began to unravel.  Repeating the final words and gestures once more, Khalid struggled to impose his will upon the reluctant target of his spell.  Bending every ounce of his concentration on the task, he held the complex formula in his mind and forced open the gate, drawing forth one of the smallest devil kin, and dropping the squirming, bloated ball of teeth and flesh as close to the tree as possible.  His gamble failed however, and the little creature was swallowed up in the sea of swirling grass before it could close the last ten feet on the plant.

Gorak was almost completely engulfed as the tree shuffled forward again.  His struggles were growing more feeble with each passing second, as he frantically used his flaming hand to keep the vines from encircling his neck.  Lacking the breath to speak, Khalid could see the grim resignation in his eyes as he slowly succumbed to the plant's brutal assault.

As she loosed another volley Shayla cried, “I can't reach it with anything more powerful!”  The plant, however, obligingly took another shuddering step forward, pulling Gorak who was now completely buried beneath a writhing mass of vines, closer towards its trunk.  The only part of Gorak still visible was his right hand, burning with the last flames of his spell.  Then, the flames winked out, and even that tiny part was swallowed up.

“Come on!” Shayla shrieked as lump that was Gorak toppled over to the ground and began to slid towards the tree.  “Come closer you bastard!”  The tree, apparently not satisfied with just one meal, heeded her calls and again moved forward towards Shayla, two huge vines uncoiling from Gorak and reaching out hungrily for her.  “NOW BURN, BITCH!” she screamed as she unleashed a jet of white hot flame directly at the base of the tree, boring a deep, smoking crater into the bark.

Khalid, frantic now to the point of foolish courage, grabbed a scroll from his belt and hitched up his robes.  Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the area of the creatures influence, stepping quickly to avoid the grasping plants, until he reached the exact limit of his range.  Feeling the animated grass at his feet begin to curl around his legs, gathered his thoughts and stared at the rune on the scroll in his hands.  A duplicate of the spell Shayla had just cast, they had worked on the scroll together, but Khalid had never actually cast the spell himself.  Speaking the final word and completing the spell, he was so taken aback by the scorching heat that engulfed his hand, he nearly forgot that this spell, unlike most of those in his spell book, required careful aim.  Stabbing his finger at the creature, he closed his eyes and prayed that he'd prepared the scroll correctly.  The white hot jet of magical flame struck the tree, dead center.  With an enormous crack, the tree fractured into two pieces, as thick black sap pulsed from the wound.  Immediately, the waving vines went limp, dropping to the ground, and the grass at their feet lost its strength.
Khalid and Shayla raced towards the motionless form of Gorak, and began hacking away at the vines that encased him.  Cutting away the branches around his face, Shayla gasped when she saw the ashen grey color of his skin.  “Is he...” she trailed off tearfully, too afraid of the answer to finish.

“Ah, I think he's still alive!” Khalid replied jubilantly as he felt the faintest breath of air on his hand.  Fumbling for a potion at his belt, he upended the contents into Gorak's mouth.  “Just barely.”***

With a coughing groan, Gorak's eyes fluttered opened.  He immediately tensed up as he realized he was still bound almost head to foot by the plant, then relaxed when he saw Khalid and Shayla standing over him. As Khalid started to speak, Gorak glared at him and growled, “Don't even say it.  Just get me outta this thing.” After they finished removing a few of the thicker branches, Gorak shoved their hands away and flexed mightily, bursting free of the last remaining vines.  Pausing only briefly to cast a few healing spells, he continued towards the smoking ruin of the tree, with Shayla trailing cautiously behind.  After a careful inspection of the carnivorous tree, which even Khalid had to admit was morbidly fascinating, they mounted up and continued their journey north.  

For the next day and a half Khalid continued to mull over the battle in his mind, time and again coming to the same unsettling conclusion.  When they stopped for the evening, he glanced around and judging it to be relatively safe, began cast a spell.  He rambled off the words to a simple summoning spell, and with a final, beckoning gesture, summoned the spirit of a hunting canine to him.  Seeing no immediate threat, the dog dropped to the ground at Khalid's feet and began to lick itself. Having felt nothing unusual while casting the spell, Khalid dismissed the dog, took a deep breath, then recast the spell, this time with a different target. Summoning the least of the devilkin, a foul mishapped blob known as a lemure, should have been a simple task for a wizard of Khalid's skill, but immediately he felt the magic slipping away from him.  Sweat began to pour down his face as the arcane liturgy rippled from his tongue through clenched teeth.  Finally, he felt the portal began to open, and his will exert itself over the tiny devil.  With a tiny pop, the sickening little creature appeared, causing Khalid to gag at the smell of spoiling meat that surrounded it.  Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, Khalid paused for a moment then frowned as he studied the lemure.  Something's wrong, Khalid thought to himself as he approached the devil, which was now gibbering and moaning softly as its crazed eyes rolled wildly. Reaching out, Khalid poked the thing in the head, and then jerked his hand back, not from revulsion but shock, as the tip of his finger seemed to almost pass through the creature.   Frightened, Khalid hauled back and punched the devil in the head, as hard as he could.  Again, the unnerving feeling of passing through the creature before striking substance.  Scowling viciously at the oblivious devil, Khalid didn't notice that Shayla had dropped out of the pocket dimension they slept in, and was watching him curiously.

“You shouldn't hit him like that,” she scolded.  “He didn't do anything to you.  Poor thing.”

“Bah!” Khalid cursed as he kicked the lemure full in the face, sending it toppling over.  It immediately righted itself, gibbering and twitching in agitation.  “It's a devil, yes, devil, Shayla,” he retorted, his voice laced with frustration, “It lives on one of the lower planes of hell.  Me kicking, yes, kicking it in the head is probably the closest thing its had to a vacation in eons.  Yes, quite.”  

“And besides,” grunted Gorak, who had stuck his head through out of the portal to see what the commotion was about, “Arbaq's harem girls give massages that are more violent than one of Khalid's left hooks.”

“Bah!” Khalid repeated again, in no mood for the good natured ribbing of his friends.  Gnawing worriedly on his lower lip, he turned his back on them and walked away, as the devil vanished with a bang.

They put two more days of travel behind them, during which Khalid studiously refused to think about the implications of his little experiment.  By the morning of the second day, they had picked up a road, heading north along the foothills of the mountains.  Several hours after lunch, the road turned sharply east, and headed directly into the hills.  Coming over a small rise, Khalid's eyebrows rose in amazement at the village before them.  The small black dot on the map called Knolton was actually an impressive town of several thousand people, carved into the top of a hill in large terraces.  Houses and gardens, even pastures and fields were visible behind the walled terraces.  The main road cut back and forth up the side of the hill, providing the only passage for large carts and animals to reach the upper levels.  Squat stone houses with thick wooden doors and shutters lined the main street on one side, with their backs up against the hill, and the top of the hill was dominated by a huge well fortified mansion.

Khalid, Gorak and Shayla rode down into the wide, sunlit valley that surrounded the hill, passing more and more people heading to and from the town.  After waving a greeting to the first few people and receiving nothing save for suspicious glares, Khalid hunched his shoulders and drew his hands back into the sleeves of his robes.  As the road curved along the wall of the lowest terrace, Khalid could see a large wooden gate ahead, surrounded by a knot of people.   Caught in the press, they dismounted to lead the horses through the crowd.  The guards at the gate seemed to be simply nodding and greeting people as they entered, until the three of them reached the front of the line.  Two of the guards looked at one another, then waved them off to the side, away from the gates and came over to speak to them.

“Where are you three headed?” the guard asked curtly.  He was a stocky man, shorter than Gorak, with a round face and full beard that hung down over his chain shirt and tabard.  His hand rested easily on a spear, and he looked the three of them up and down critically.

Gorak, not liking the man's tone, grunted belligerently, “Inta your town for the night.”

“Yeah, well we'll see about that,” muttered the other guard, a tall, lanky man that had left his post at the gate.  “What's your business here?”

Khalid, trying to head off an unpleasant situation, spoke up, “Ah, just passing through on our way north, yes, quite.  We'd hoped to sleep in a soft bed and re-provision, yes, re-provision before heading out in the morning.”

“Uh-huh,” grunted the chubby guard noncommittally.  He then turned, rather pointedly away from Gorak and spoke to Khalid and Shayla  “And where'd  you three odd looking folks meet up?”

Khalid hesitated for a moment, not certain where the guard's line of questioning was heading, but becoming increasingly worried about the prospects of spending the night in the town gaol.  “Ah, we set out, originally from Gem-Sharad,” Khalid stammered, “some weeks back.”

“Izzat so?  You three been together, all the way from Gem-Sharad eh?” the guard pressed on.

“Ah, indeed.” Khalid replied.  When the guard looked at Shayla, she just nodded.

“Right then,” the guard said, grudgingly pacified.  “We'll just take a look through your packs and make sure you ain't bringing no trade into the city.  There's a ten percent tax on trade goods brought in by foreigners.” Since most of their belongings were stowed within the magical haversack that appeared almost empty, the search only took a few moments. Somewhat sullenly, the pudgy guard waved them through the gate with a final warning that foreigners were not allowed to carry weapons in public, having exhausted all excuses to delay them.

Within the city, their reception was little warmer.  Moving quickly down the main avenue, they didn't stop to ask directions, hoping instead that they would recognize an inn when they saw the sign.  They had climbed two terraces and were half way up the hill before they found a clearly marked tavern.  As they stopped in front of the door, a tow headed young boy jumped up off the porch, and rushed to greet them.  “Stable your horses?” he asked, holding out his hand.  

“Ah, no, thank you, that won't be necessary,” Khalid replied as they shouldered their packs and walked towards the door.  With a snap of his fingers, Khalid dismissed the summoned mounts, leaving the young lad looking both amazed and disappointed.  As they entered the inn, they were greeted with a blast of warm air carrying the scents of roasting meat and potatoes.  Hurrying up to the main desk, Khalid quickly negotiated for several rooms and meals.  The tavern keeper, a rotund man in his late fifties, eyed Gorak suspiciously until Khalid added a few more coins to the pile, and Shayla shot him an encouraging smile.  Grumbling under his breath, the man swept the coins off the bar and into his apron, and directed them over to a table in a dark corner of the tavern.  They settled down, and the barmaid brought them mugs of ale, as the tavern began to fill up with regulars, men and women of every age, wearing the drab brown and grey woolens that seemed to be the fashion in the town.

Despite a few less than friendly glances during their meal, they were left alone to eat  in peace while the inn busied up around them.  As the barmaid cleared away the last of their plates, the door to the inn banged open and a large imposing man, obviously another foreigner, strode into the inn.  Standing almost a head taller than most of the locals, his fiery red hair and full beard were long, and bound in thick braids.  His bare arms were massive, with thick bronze cuffs around his wrists, well suited to using the wicked looking battle axe that hung from a loop on his belt.  A finely trimmed ermine cloak was clasped across his barrel chest and the glint of highly polished chain links flashed out as he moved through the bar.  He looked around curiously before he stopped at the end of their table and asked in a deep voice, “Mind if I sit here?”  Without waiting for a response, he swung his leg over the back of the chair, dropped his pack and sat down.  “You folk look more interesting then the rest of this lot in here.”  Popping open the buckle on his weapons belt, he let it slide to the ground with a contented sigh as his substantial girth expanded even further.

“Ah, well, yes,” Khalid began, somewhat taken back, as Gorak frowned disapprovingly.

“Names Hammond Auldwulf,” the man continued, extending a huge hand to Khalid.  “Merchant by trade, charming rogue by nature.”

“Ah, yes, I'm Khalid...” Khalid began before trailing off with a furtive look at Gorak and Shayla, as he realized he could be talking to a professional bounty hunter, “...Abdul-Azim,” he concluded lamely, hoping that Hammond had not noticed the awkward pause.

He needn't have worried however as Hammond had already turned and offered his hand to Shayla with an engaging grin and a wink, and then to Gorak as well.  As he shook hands with Gorak, he remarked, “I must say, you're a helluva brave man.”	

Gorak, unsure if he was being made the butt of some joke, growled, “Some people think so.  But since I never met you before, what makes you say that?”

Suddenly, all conversation in the bar stopped, as a single bell began to toll, somewhere down in the lower city.  It peeled once, twice, then a third time, with increasing urgency when another bell tolled, from far up the hill.  In an instant the town was reverberating with a cacophony of bells ringing from all quarters.  Within the bar there was an explosion of activity.  People leapt up from their tables and ran to the doors, leaving their meals still steaming on the table.  The barmaid vanished into the back room, as the barkeep pulled a stout iron bound cudgel off the wall behind him and leapt over the bar, rushing out the door and closing it with a bang.

As Gorak, Shayla and Khalid looked around in a stunned amazement at now deserted bar,  the sound of a dozen bells echoing in their ears, Hammond's grinned faded and he turned to Gorak with a deadly serious expression. “I think you're about to find out.”

* * * * * * * * * * *​
* This was frustrating.  I had to sit silently while they debated where to go while I was chasing Hazal.  As soon as they decided to head to Gormo's inn, I knew the adventure was over and we failed.  Again, one of the problems with only playing once every few weeks -  they'd both forgotten that Khalid had studiously avoided Gormo and had no idea what inn he was staying at.

** This was absolutely infuriating.  I played Khalid so carefully – up until this point, I'd barely even got hit.  I took more damage in that first surprise round then I had in the campaign to date, and they almost killed me.

*** This random encounter nearly ended the campaign (silly druid, cavorting with unfamiliar foliage).  We just weren't picking up on the fire resistance (wooden tree = fire bad right?) on the assassin vine, but really, we didn't have a lot of options.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Hurrah!! Great to see you back Eternal Newbie - I hope this means a revival from suspended animation for this thread and (at least slightly) more frequent updates.   

... especially as I want to know what's going on!


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## Galeman

wow... this was pretty unexpected.  good job, EN.  you almost make my campaign seem fun to play


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## TaranTheWanderer

Bump!  My sources tell me there might be another post in the very near future...


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## The Axe

*Yay!*

Yer back!

I would have chimed in a bit earlier, but I had to go back to re-read the thread---[codger voice]the ol' mem'ry ain't what she used'ta be![/codger voice]


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## EternalNewbie

The end of Chapter 4:  Thicker than Water.

* * * * * * * * * *​
There was only a moment of stunned silence before the three seasoned campaigners rose to their feet.  “Guess we better check it out,” Gorak grunted as he headed towards the door, buckling his darkwood shield to his arm as he moved.  Shayla grabbed her trusty crossbow out from under the table, and fell into step with him.  Khalid joined her, mumbling slightly under his breath as he reviewed the magical formulae stored in his mind.  As Gorak threw open the door, Khalid glanced over his shoulder, and was disappointed to see their new friend looking quite content with a pilfered tankard of ale.  He raised a mock toast to Khalid, who sighed and turned his back on him, stepping out into the cool mountain air.

All three of them stopped and assessed the chaos that had engulfed the town.  A few buildings were glowing with burgeoning flames and as Khalid watched, the fire began to spread into the fields.  Between the almost incessant tolling of the bells, he could hear people screaming and the sounds of battle.  Dozens of  townsfolk were fleeing from the lower city, seeking safety further up the hill.  Some were dragging or carrying small children, while others labored up the incline under the weight of their worldly goods.  Interspersed in the crowd were a few guardsmen trying to fight against the press and make their way down to the lower levels.

Seeing no immediate danger,  they moved nearer to the edge of the terrace and looked down.  Despite the apparent success of their assailants, Khalid could see that the town was constructed to be a besieger's nightmare.  Carved into the side of a huge hill, the lower two terraces of the town were broad, but narrowed significantly at the third terrace, where the inn was located, and the two terraces above.  Buildings of varying heights had been constructed right against the hillside, some with roofs almost level with the road in front of the terrace above.  Most of the houses were constructed of solid brick or stone, with stout doors and heavy shutters and roof top gardens.  As Khalid watched, soldiers began to clamber onto the roofs of houses on the level below them, and rain arrows down on the first terrace.

Squinting through the smoke and darkness, Khalid saw a lone attacker run across the road directly below them, then drop as three arrows landed in rapid succession.  As the figure crumpled and fell, the body rolled out into a circle of torchlight, and Khalid whistled slightly in understanding.  Their adversaries were orcs, full blooded judging by the length of the tusks, but with mottled greenish brown skin, fortunately for Gorak.  They had launched their attack at the perfect time, considering their flawless night vision; in the few moments since the start of the attack, the sun had set behind the hill line and the town was plunged into darkness.  Few torches had been lit in the lower levels, meaning the only light in those parts was that thrown from the increasing number of burning buildings.

Looking back behind them, Khalid saw more soldiers begin to filter down the hill, and a group, apparently under the command of a rather junior looking lieutenant, gathered about sixty feet from the inn, near the curve where the main road came up from the second level.

Gorak grunted and ducked out of the way as a crossbow bolt whizzed over his head.  “They ain't holding them, there's more of 'em pouring up the road.”

Further up the road,  Khalid could see soldiers and civilians alike leaping off rooftops from the lower terrace and scrambling up onto the road in front of the third level.  In a few places where the defenders were unwilling or unable to flee, Khalid could see them frantically fortifying their positions, forcing the orcish mob to engage in brutal house to house fighting to clear the roof tops of archers.  The sounds of battle were louder now, as several of the bells in the lower city went quiet.  Khalid could tell that if the advancing orcs could capture enough of the town behind their lines, they could starve or blackmail the remaining defenders into submission, and judging by the numbers running by below them, they were about to breach the third level.

Just then, a bugle sounded out from the fortress at the top of the hill, and was answered by another.  Instantly, Khalid's spirits were lifted and he turned to Gorak who stepped back away from the edge.

“Alright,” Gorak growled, “Looks like we got some help behind us.  I'll keep them from scaling the cliffs and offa them rooftops here.”

Khalid, nodding in agreement, was already moving.  “Ah, yes, and I'll bolster the guardsman.  Shayla, help, yes, help Gorak but be ready to fall back and cover the guards if things turn for the worse.  Yes, quite!”

As he moved closer to the guards, the inn door flew open and Hammond strode out.  In one hand he held a wicked looking half-moon battleaxe, in his other, a broad steel shield.  A huge fur hat, matching his cloak, was perched at a jaunty angle on his head  and a chainmail coif spilled down his neck.  Ale foam dripped from his mustache as he winked at Khalid.

From the corner of his eye, Khalid caught a flicker of movement and saw the young lieutenant stagger as a javelin skewered his upper thigh.  Turning desperately, he fell backwards towards his men as a bloody faced orc appeared out of the darkness and cut him almost in two with a terrible blow from his greatsword.  The men flinched back almost collectively.  Khalid could see their nerve breaking but he forced himself to wait while more orcs appeared out of the gloom and charged the line.  Then, seeing several orcs bunch up, Khalid seized the opportunity and began to cast.  He grinned as his spell went off, and a golden explosion burst in the midst of the orcs blinding them and coating them in sparkling gold dust.  A cheer went up from the guards, who rallied immediately and cut down the blinded orcs with quick, professional attacks.  With a roar, Hammond raised his axe charged into the fray, grievously wounding a blinded orc who was laying about frantically with a spiked mace.

“Khalid! Get ready! I'm gonna slow 'em down but you're gonna have a helluva lot more company in a few seconds!” Gorak roared before he launched into a spell.  Howls of frustration echoed up from the street below as whatever Gorak had done confounded the orcs.  Shayla took advantage of the confusion to cast a handful of glittering discs into the mob.

Khalid wasted no time and began casting again.  Watching through half closed eyes as he rhymed off the words to a summoning incantation, he saw the last of the blinded orcs cut down, only to be replaced by two more.  A guardsman in the front line collapsed on the end of an orcish spear, and the remaining four battled on desperately.  Hammond was a stone wall in their center upon which the tide of orcs broke.  Wielding his axe with a deadly grace, his savage fury matched that of the orcs he faced, and he gave no ground despite his mounting injuries.

The words rolling off Khalid's tongue and the rush of blood in his ears drowned out Gorak and Shayla's renewed casting.  Seeking something with as much psychological effect as physical, he called forth the spirit of a simple scorpion, and perverted it with fell energies.  The resulting monstrosity that appeared with a sulfuric detonation, caused both man and orc to shy away.  The scorpion was over seven feet long with a glittering jet black carapace that faded to blood red at the tips of its claws and stinger.  “Ah, fear not!” Khalid cried out to the guardsmen, somewhat unnecessarily as the scorpion scuttled forward and plunged it's barbed stinger into the chest of an orc.  Drawing out one of his pilfered wands, he waited for a few more more orcs to appear and then with a flick of the wand and an arcane word, Khalid caused a huge netting of thick spider webs to descend over the roadway.  Anchored between two buildings, it trapped a few unfortunate orcs charging up the path and completely cut off the those at the front, battling the guardsmen, from any reinforcements.  Understanding that no quarter would be given, the orcs fought on in a frenzy, biting and clawing at their opponents when they were stricken to the ground.

Seeing the remaining orcs being contained by the the four uninjured guards, aided by Hammond and the conjured scorpion, Khalid allowed himself a moment's respite believing the situation to be in hand.  A scream from Shayla grabbed his attention and he looked nervously over to where she was standing.

“There's some sort of ogre or something coming down the road!” Shayla cried as she cast another spell.

“Son of a bitch! That ain't no ogre!” Gorak  roared.  “Khalid, in about thirty seconds yer gonna have a giant up there with ya! Get ready!”  Both he and Shayla drew back from the edge of the road.

“Ah, yes, ready, quite,” Khalid stammered as he looked around helplessly.  Realizing with a start that he still held the wand in his hand, he began to jab it frantically in air in the direction of the road, shouting the command word repeatedly and slowly filling up the road with layer upon layer of webbing.  There was a shout from the terrace below them, and then a tremendous crash as the giant pulverized a building covered in defenders.  Ignoring the screams of slowly suffocating orcs struggling futilely at the center of the web, Khalid continued to discharge the wand, until the hill giant's huge head came into view around the corner.  Even worse, the duration of Khalid's summoning ran out, and the scorpion, with one final lunge at an orc, vanished, leaving one less obstacle between him and giant.

Standing well over twelve feet tall, the giant resembled a grotesquely distorted orc.  Its filthy skin was the color of dried mud and rancid hides stitched with bits and pieces of scavenged armor were draped about its powerfully muscled shoulders.  It's face was almost brutishly childlike, with thick, stump like teeth, and bleary eyes covered by matted, greasy hair.  Wounds and cuts covered its body and in one hand was a gnarled tree stump, tacky with blood and gore that oozed down over the beast’s fingers.  As the giant stared in confusion at the obstacle blocking the road, an arrow sailed out of the darkness from above and ricocheted off his head, tearing back a flap of skin and causing the giant to howl in pain.  Surging forward with a thunderous roar, the giant ploughed into the webbing, struggling mightily.  For an instant, Khalid though the spell might hold the beast but then with a sharp twang, the strands began to pull free from the buildings and road one at a time, dragging huge chunks of mortar and stone away.  Khalid pointed the wand directly at the giant's head and spoke the command word but nothing happened.  Having expended its last charge, the wand was now nothing more than a ornate stick, and Khalid tossed it aside.  Running low on options and lower on valor, Khalid muttered a few more arcane words and promptly vanished.	

“I'm going to prepare our escape!” Khalid called out to Shayla and Gorak, as he headed back towards the inn.  “Turn right when you enter the door to the inn!”  Ducking back into the inn, Khalid opened a portal and then darted back outside.  The giant, slowed by the sticky filaments, had not yet reached the defenders but they had at best a few seconds before it was free.  Two orcs remained fighting the guardsmen and Khalid prayed fervently that they both be dispatched before the giant reached them.  Hammond stepped forward, and with a powerful blow, answered Khalid's prayer and cleaved in the head of one of the orcs, even as one of the guardsmen staggered away from the mêleé, and fainted from his injuries.  The giant lurched forward with surprising speed, and tore through the last few feet of webbing.  Bringing his huge club arcing down, he caught the guard on Hammond's left and crushed him into the cobblestones, killing him instantly.   The other two guardsmen backed away cautiously, too disciplined to flee, but too scared to approach the giant.  Arrows buzzed out of the blackness overhead, striking the giant in the face and chest. While most were turned aside by the giant's thick skin and matted hides, several landed true.

Gorak and Shayla had abandoned their post overlooking the road and fell back towards the inn.  Hammond, the sole defender facing the giant now, raised his shield defensively and stepped forward.  Hoping to engage the beast while it was still hampered by the magical ensnarement, he delivered a powerful blow that bit deep into the giant's upper thigh.  The giant's roar of pain echoed off the stone walls as he shook free of the last remaining strands of Khalid's spell.  Drawing his club back over his shoulder the giant leveled a terrible blow at Hammond.  Still off balance from his attack, Hammond just barely managed to raise his shield to absorb the killing force of the hit.  The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing into the wall of the building beside him.  Barely standing and dazed by the shock, Hammond turned to flee and was caught by the giant's back swing, propelling him once more through the air.   He landed in a crumpled heap, then incredibly struggled to his feet.  His shield arm hanging uselessly by his side and with an obviously broken ankle, he half crawled, half staggered towards the inn, leaning heavily on his axe.

Shayla stopped abruptly, and Khalid could see her gather herself up for a spell.  As the magic consumed her, Khalid was forced to squint as her hands burst into searing flame.  The giant, distracted by the two guards, took the full brunt of the spell as Shayla unleashed a ray of magical flame.  Blackened, ghastly wounds appeared on the giant's shoulder and neck where the flame landed, and the stench of burned flesh filled the air.

Gorak ran on past Shayla and intercepted Hammond, dragging him up to his feet.  “Get back in 'er!” he roared as his hands flashed with magical healing.  The pain that accompanied Gorak's spell, jerked Hammond back to his senses, even as his arm straightened and the bones in his ankle mended.  Propelling Hammond back towards the giant, Gorak stepped aside as Shayla ran past, the wounded giant bellowing in pain and lumbering along behind  her.  As she passed them, she skidded to a stop and turned around.  Her green eyes flashing in the flickering light of a dozen fires, she called out words of power in a clear, confident voice.  Again, a  lance of pure elemental fire leapt from her hands and struck the charging giant, dead center in the chest.

The giant, caught in the throes of a killing frenzy, ignored Hammond and Gorak as he pursued Shayla, intent on smashing her to a bloody pulp for the terrible damage she had inflicted.  Hammond, taking advantage of the giant's reckless haste, swung his axe in a wide arc and slammed it into the giant's ribs.  Wounded by Shayla beyond all reason, the giant ignored the bloody gash into its side and ran on, finally reaching her.  Bellowing incoherently, the giant swung wildly, causing Shayla to shriek in terror.  Bending almost double at the waist, Shayla ducked underneath the giant's fearsome attack.

Khalid, fearing that whatever god had reached out and protected Shayla a moment ago could not be counted on twice, circled around to position himself for one last desperate attack.  Staying clear of Gorak and Hammond, who had moved in with their weapons at the ready to flank the giant, he hesitated, trying to time his gamble.  Having only one offensive spell remaining, and faced with the prospect of being both helpless and visible before an enraged giant, he waited.*

Shayla, snapping upright, nimbly danced backwards and raised her hands in front of her face.  Peering at the giant from between her fingers with a coy smile on her face, Shayla summoned her magical fire one more time.  Recognizing the terrible fate about to befall it, the giant lashed out desperately.    Shayla's auburn curls blew back over her shoulder as the giants club whistled past, inches from her face.  The giant's howls cut off instantly as a jet of flame pierced it under the chin, burning a hole clear through its neck.

Khalid, about to step forward and cast his final spell, was forced to turn aside with a startled yelp as the giant toppled over backwards, almost crushing him.   For an instant, nobody moved as the adrenaline continued to course in their blood.   Both Gorak and Hammond stood, weapons raised, as though waiting for the beast to rise once more.   The shock broke, as the last remaining guard ran past them.  Khalid turned in dismay and saw a half dozen orcs round the corner.  Thankful he was still invisible, he worried for his friends he moved aside to gain room to cast.

Out of the darkness overhead, an order was barked and a sheet of arrows rained down from the sky into the midst of the orcs.  Several dropped immediately and as the remaining ones turned to flee, another wave of arrows fell, driving them to the ground.  Barely able to contain his elation, Khalid's invisible smile grew broader as he turned to see a column of foot soldiers moving at almost a dead run down the road.  They raced past without stopping, weapons and armor clanking, and turned the corner down to the second terrace.  Archers, clad in light leathers with their bows strapped to their back, began dropping down from rooftops and moving to the edge of the terrace to cover the advancing soldiers.

Moving to the edge with the archers, Khalid could see the column of soldiers clearing the road below.  They moved quickly, with small groups breaking off from the main column to venture into breached houses.  As he watched, the troop crashed into a group of attacking orcs and linked up with a pocket of resistance.  This scene was repeated again and again, as the orcs continued to attack in the face of determined resistance and withering arrow fire.

 “Where's Khalid!” Shayla called out, from back near the inn, and with a guilty start, Khalid willed himself back into visibility.

“Ah, yes, sorry, I'm right here,” he called out with an apologetic grin, as she joined him overlooking the terraces below.  

They watched for several minutes, as the battle raged on down below.  The advancing guards quickly gained momentum, and their numbers swelled as they moved through the city, as more people came out of hiding.  It soon became apparent that the battle had turned into a rout for the attacking orc tribes, and Khalid turned away.  He spotted Gorak down the road, tending to some critically injured soldiers.  Feeling vaguely guilty, Khalid looked around half-heartedly for some way to help.  Seeing a tired looking guard dragging the men who had fallen defending the turn in the road out of the way, he moved to offer his assistance.  As he bent down to help lift one of the bodies, he realized that by some strange turn of chance the man he was helping, the only guard to have survived the fight with the giant, was the same stout soldier that had rudely questioned them at the gate.  He was no longer wearing his uniform and armor, but was dressed instead in simple pants and a tunic.  A filthy and battered orcish helmet still rested on his head, and a crudely cast iron longsword was tucked in his belt.  When he saw Khalid looking at him, he smiled wanly and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a smudge of soot in its place.  “We just got off shift,” he gestured at his fallen friend, the tall, slim guard that had searched their belongings.  “We were headed up inta the city ta get something ta eat.  I thought sure we was gonna make through, when you gummed up the road there.” He sighed.  “Then that giant came along and killed him dead.”  He looked straight at Khalid and said, “But that little girl burned him up good.  You thank her for me, al'right?”  Khalid, thinking of Jalaal, lying unburied somewhere beneath a mountain, nodded wordlessly.**

He put his friend down, then reached out and closed his sightless eyes.  Standing up slowly, he wandered away up the hill, stopping briefly to offer Gorak a tired, but sincere looking salute.  Khalid, having seen enough death for one day, wiped his hands off and stood up, joining Shayla and Gorak as they entered the inn.  Hammond was already inside, busy redistributing uneaten meals, mostly to himself.  He handed a plate to Gorak as he sat down, then shot a wink at Shayla and chuckled.  “Healing always makes me hungry.”  Finding himself ravenously hungry, despite eating only a few hours earlier, Khalid tucked into his purloined food.  So distracted was he by the cold joint of meat, and vivid discussion of tactics, he didn't notice the barkeep enter the inn and walk over to their table.

Dumping a handful of coins on the table, the barkeep said, “I don't want these.”  As Khalid stood up to insist that they were going to pay for the food they had taken, the man continued.  “I saw wut you done out there,” he said, rubbing his bald palate with a meaty hand.  “And none of you has ta pay for anything in here no more, any time your passing through town.”  He blew out his mustache and stared down his nose as though daring them to challenge him.

With a grin, Khalid settled back into his chair, and ordered another round.  The inn slowly filled up again, with other foreigners and townsfolk looking to celebrate the hard fought victory.  The mood was muted out of respect, but cheerful.  As hard as Khalid tried, he couldn't force himself to dislike Hammond, despite the fact he was convinced that the man was a professional sellsword.  Khalid stayed sober enough to deflect his repeated and increasing incoherent questions about where they were going and why, until the party wound down in the late hours of the evening.

They were awoken early the next morning by a riot of construction, echoing up from the lower quarters.  After a hasty meeting in the commons room of the inn, it was unanimously decided to spend another day in town, and they retired to the blissful quiet of Khalid's magical shelter.  Waking late in the afternoon, Khalid put his free time to good use and immediately began working on his studies, while Gorak and Shayla wandered the town, surveying the damage.

When they returned late in the evening, they found Khalid eating sullenly downstairs by himself.  Grunting in response to Shayla's greeting, he ignored them and stared at his stew.  “What's up with you?” Gorak rumbled.

“Ah, nothing,” Khalid muttered.***

Gorak shrugged.  “Whatever.  You seen Hammond around?”

“Ah, I think, yes, that he said he was leaving, early this morning, for Gem-Sharad,” Khalid reminded him.#

“Right, forgot about that,” Gorak grumbled.  “Fun guy.  I like him.  Anyhow, if we're still leaving at first light tomorrow, I'm gonna go get some rest.”

The short ride through town the next morning impressed Khalid with the village's resilience.  Most of the rubble from burned buildings had been removed, and in some places new frames had already been erected.  The cobblestones had been washed and the buildings were being repainted.  While a few people glared at Gorak as he passed, surprisingly more still smiled and waved.  Their deeds had garnered a certain amount of celebrity within the town and while it wasn't a parade, Khalid felt particularly pleased with himself as they rode out into the valley.

* * * * * * * * * *​ 
Khalid shivered miserably in his saddle, thinking longingly of the warm taproom of the Dancing Pig in Knolton.  A week's journey saw them more than a hundred and fifty miles northward and the brutal desert heat of late autumn had turned into the chill of early winter on the northern steppes.  Already wearing both sets of his robes and his cloak, Khalid searched around his saddlebags, pulling out a pair of socks and sliding them over his hands.   Shayla still seemed bemused at the huge flakes of snow that had been falling for two days now, gathering in fluffy clumps in her auburn hair.  Gorak, steadfast as always, had merely cinched his cloak a little tighter over his bare chest.  Grasping at his hood as a gust of swirling snow blew into his face, he asked for the tenth time today, “Ah, how much...”

“Khalid,” Gorak growled.  “I swear to the lost gods that if you ask how much further one more time...There's your damn answer.”  He pointed to a strange rock formation, jutting out of a cliff face, in the valley ahead.

Shayla shook the snow out of her blazing curls, and shielded her eyes with her hands.  “Is that the falls?” she asked.  “It looks frozen or something.”

Gorak grunted.  “That doesn't bode well for a hike through the mountains.”

It took several more hours to reach the base of the cliff.  Situated on the near side of a huge lake fed by the frozen falls, the village was a rude shock after coming from Knolton.  The houses were low, rambling wooden affairs, laid out, as far as Khalid could tell, by no particular plan.  Thick brownish black tar had been smeared across the exposed wood, which was poorly treated.  More than half of the buildings had sod roofs and the look of permanently ongoing construction.  Furry, half feral looking pigs roamed the streets in small herds, tended to by shrieking children with short sticks.  

The villagers themselves looked more like Easterners than Khalid would have guessed.  The majority seemed to have fair skin and pale hair, although there was a definite mix.  Draped in fur and armed with bows and knives, men with hard, flat stares watched them ride into town.  Gorak pulled up in front of one of them and asked, “This village is Daggerfall, right?”

The man looked at him rather oddly, “Ayup.”

“Whadda call that?” he gestured, pointing at the cliff.

Speaking slowly, as though to a small child, the man replied.  “Dagger.  Falls.”##

Grunting in annoyance, Gorak nudged his horse forward.  They wandered through the sprawling lanes between buildings, and located a tavern by the raucous singing that poured out.  As Khalid waved away the horses, they shouldered their packs and pushed their way into the crowded barroom.  Forcing their way to the bar, Gorak tapped the barman on the arm and shouted over the noise, “We need a room.”

The barman looked at Shayla, and asked, “You want the good room, or the other room?”

“What's the difference?”

“The good room's fer traveling merchants, the other room is a place ta sleep for the night.”

“The good room then,” Shayla said, elbowing past Khalid and digging out some of Arbaq's money.

As Shayla paid, Gorak spoke up again.  “We need some information about the mountains.  Any suggestions?”

The barman waved at the room, “Just ask around.  Most of the folk in here are trappers or trackers of one sort or 'nother.  But I don't know that yer gonna have much luck fer finding somebody that'll take you up this late in the season.”

Turning to Khalid, who had shrunk into his cloak at the mention of trackers, and Shayla, Gorak growled, “That don't sound good.  Take my stuff upstairs and start buying supplies.  I'm gonna start hunting around for somebody that knows these mountains.”

They split up, with Shayla leaving to get provisions while Gorak looked for a guide.  Khalid spent his time hunting around for the various supplies for his art, but was unsurprised to be mostly disappointed.  He met up with Shayla laboring under several bags of food on the way back to the inn, and dutifully shouldered some of the load.  As he swung a bag over his shoulder, Shayla looked at him oddly.

“What's that,” she said.

“Ah, what's what?” Khalid puffed, peering around.

“That thing on your head.” She pointed.

“Ah, it's my new hat!” Khalid exclaimed.  “I bought some clothing suitable for a trek into the mountains.”

“Um, is it supposed to look, ah, quite that fresh?”  The hat's cold, dead eyes bored into Shayla reproachfully.

“Ah, Indeed, the trapper assured me it's much warmer like this,” Khalid said, nodding enthusiastically.  Then he flinched and yelped as his hat inadvertently kicked him in the eye.  Laughing, Shayla pushed upon the door to the inn for him, and they went inside to wait for Gorak.

Gorak showed up an hour later, with a foul look on his face.  “I'm tired of being laughed at, and called crazy.  It's starting to hurt my feelings,” he growled.  “They all hunt the damn things, but not one has crossed 'em.  We got one more person to try, an old hermit whose supposed to know these mountains like the back of his hand and has gone up in midwinter before.  We'll hit him up tomorrow, and if he can't tell us anything useful, then we just keep right on moving.”

The next morning, they packed up and rode around the lake towards the falls.  As they got closer to the falls, Khalid realized that they weren't entirely frozen.  Water still trickled and streamed down the sides of the huge icicle, into the lake below.  Soon, they could make out a thin band of smoke rising from a small cabin, among a copse of trees on the lake’s edge.  When they approached, an old man barged out of the house and looked them up and down.  “I don't like people.” he declared before they could speak.  “So what are you _people_,” he put a particularly unpleasant emphasis on the word, “doing in my yard?”.

Gorak eyed the shabby little man up and down.  Dressed in well cured leather, he looked about a hundred years old, although his spry step and bushy grey hair indicated he was probably slightly younger.  “We're looking for a way through the mountains.” Gorak replied.

“You're crazy,” the little man retorted.

As Gorak growled deep in his throat, Khalid intervened quickly.  “Ah, yes, well, we'd heard that you were the best, and that you'd done it before.  Yes, quite.”

“That was a long time ago, boyo,” the old man said, “and I ain't that crazy no more.”

“That's it,” Gorak growled.  “We're leaving.”

“You're crazy!” the old man shouted as they turned their horses into the wind and began to ride east towards the mountains.  There's goblins up there!  And the weather's gonna turn soon!”

“You'd be surprised,” Gorak grunted over his shoulder, “at just how little either of those things scares me.”

Khalid sighed and wished he could say the same, as he pulled his hood low to ward off the rising sun.  Behind them, the huge icicle began to groan and creak as the first light of the morning hit it.  With a shuddering crack, a huge spear of ice broke free from the main spire and crashed to the ground below, shattering into a thousand pieces.  Pulling his cloak a little tighter against the stinging chill, Khalid tried not to think about omens or portends or just how much the mountains loomed over them, like a maw of jagged fangs.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:

* I was totally trying to steal the kill here. My only offensive spell left was burning hands, so I had to be pretty close to him get it off and I wanted to be sure.  I'd been lurking around invisible for a few rounds, but I chickened out and waited one round too long   That giant may have been hurt when it came up the terrace, but once it got there Shayla did about 90% of the damage to it - Hammond was the only other person to wound it, as far as I remember.

**Had to give some love out to the redshirts! They did a fantastic job in their supporting role of meatwall, at least until the giant showed up...

***This was me, failing to scribe dispel magic off a scroll.  Needed to beat a 3, rolled a 1.

#Ah, good ole Hammond, meant to be a potential a) tank, b) cohort c) guide through the mountains, but that would be far too easy!  Khalid's paranoia deals the party yet another blow...

##heh, ask a stupid question...get immortalized in a story hour!  I remember this exchange, but to Gorak's credit, it *might* have been me that asked the question (I'm pretty sure it was him tho   ).


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Top stuff EN! The fight with the giant sounds like it was real fun.

Keep it coming ...


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## Ed Gentry

This is one of the best story hours I've read on this site. The setting is fun and different, the players and characters seem quirky and fun and the writing is quite excellent. Well done. Please keep up with this story hour. It would be a shame to let it experience a huge lull again.

Thanks for sharing it with us.


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## The Axe

*What Ed said.*



			
				Ed Gentry said:
			
		

> This is one of the best story hours I've read on this site. The setting is fun and different, the players and characters seem quirky and fun and the writing is quite excellent. Well done. Please keep up with this story hour. It would be a shame to let it experience a huge lull again.
> 
> Thanks for sharing it with us.




Seconded, in its entirety!


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## TaranTheWanderer

I'm going to go out on a limb and give an update of the group.  

Our group has scattered to the four winds: I moved to a different city, got married and had a baby, Galeman moved to the other side of the country and EN is busy planning his wedding with our friend who plays Shayla... All this to say, that we play about twice a year.  BUT our characters are all 9th lvl and we're getting very close to wrapping up the campaign (I think - but I s'poze I need Galeman to confirm that).  

The plan was - hopefully - that EN would update the story hour so that when we DID get together to play, all events would be fresh in our minds and we wouldn't spend too much of our precious time figuring out where we left off.  So, there are a couple more installments in the works, but how many more after that depends on how much EN sticks to the PLAN...


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## Galeman

I'm not sure just how close to "done" the campaign we are.  I do suppose that you could all die horrible deaths at the hands of some terrible fanged bunny in the very next combat, hence making the campaign close to done...  how you intend to wrap up the list of requirements you uncovered last game, "soon" seems to be a bit of a pipe dream... or a death sentence


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## EternalNewbie

Heh, we come out on top of one plot significant encounter, without handing away all of our magic items, and Gorak thinks the campaign is won.  He's probably right though, maybe we should just quit while we're ahead...

As Gorak pointed out, since we're only going to get to play once and a while, I'm mainly trying to get this down so it doesn't get forgotten, which will hopefully motivate me enough to get fully caught up.  Of course, when we do play...the last game clocked in at about 15 hours straight and wrapped up at 5:30 am (it's gonna be hard to put a positive spin on the kind of tactics I was displaying at that point, let me tell you).  

Anyhow, I'm glad people are still enjoying the story - the next installment is about half done and with a little luck (or effort, I suppose) it will be up fairly soon.


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## pogre

Excellent!


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## EternalNewbie

CHAPTER 5: NEW FRIENDS AND OLD ENEMIES

Khalid had his head down, carefully placing his feet as he struggled through the knee-high snow, when the yeti attacked catching him completely by surprise.  He looked up at the sound of Gorak's casting and then gasped as he was engulfed in a crushing bear hug.  The yeti scooped him up, with one arm around his waist and the other holding his head, burying it deep in the filthy, damp fur of its neck and preventing him from seeing anything.  He heard Shayla shriek and then a thunderous detonation but pinned as he was, he couldn't see anything but white fur.  Flailing mightily, he fought against the beast's embrace.  As the seconds passed, being able to see became a secondary concern to being able to breath for Khalid.  Formulae raced through his mind, but with his hands pinned tightly at his sides and no air in his lungs, they were as useless to him as the spells he had studied futilely at the White Tower so long ago.  Star bursts bloomed in his vision and the world began to swim and fade when the creature shifted its grip on him slightly.  Raising his head, Khalid inhaled a huge gulp of air, a handful of fur and more than a few fleas.  Finally able to see, somewhat, Khalid looked over the creature's shoulder and realized for the first time how much trouble they were in.

He couldn't see Shayla, but from the sound of her screams, a yeti had her, running somewhere ahead.  Gorak was struggling with another yeti and as Khalid watched, the creature cinched its arms around his waist and lifted him off the ground in a spine crushing hold.  Sousee, jostled out of her slumber in the wicker basket on Gorak's back, rose up over his shoulder and bit the beast in neck, just under the jaw, pumping her deadly toxin into the creatures blood.  It's howl of pain was drowned out by Gorak's roar of anger, as he lifted his hands to the sky.  For a second, Khalid though he was going to drive his hands into the creature's face to break it's hold, but Gorak simply arched his back and turned his face to the sky.  The clouds overhead that had been fitfully snowing on them all morning began to darken and churn.  To Khalid's complete amazement, a huge column of lightning arced down from the sky, slamming into Gorak and the yeti. The thunder followed instantly and rattled Khalid's teeth.  The force of the bolt blasted them apart, sending half-orc, yeti and snake flying through the air.  Gorak, indomitable as always, tumbled backwards into the snow and rolled to his feet.  He came up running, pulling his cudgel from the loop on his belt as the yeti, dazed and poisoned, struggled to get up.  Gripping his cudgel in both hands, Gorak raised it back over his shoulder as he ducked under the creature's feeble attempt to keep him at bay.  The yeti's head was at the perfect height for Gorak and he threw his full weight behind the blow, twisting at the hips.  The sound of the beast's cracking skull was almost as loud as the thunder that still echoed off the mountains around them.  With a spray of blood and brains that stained the snow crimson, the beast toppled over.

Khalid, rallied by Gorak's victory, quickly ran through his options.  With his arms pinned at his side, there weren't many available to him.  There was no chance of breaking free from the yeti's clutches, so he wormed a hand over to his belt and drew his remaining wand.  He shouted the command word as he frantically dug the point into the beast's belly but the yeti's only response was to tighten his hold on him, and Khalid gasped in pain as one of his ribs cracked.  Realizing he was poking the creature with the wrong end of the wand, Khalid attempted to flip the wand around in his palm, but the creature shifted him at the same instant and the wand tumbled from his shaking fingers, vanishing into the snow.

Khalid slumped, about to give in to despair when he saw Gorak, running hard behind him.  Moving like an arctic hare, he was practically skimming over the deep snow, quickly closing the gap.  His wolf-skin cloak billowing out behind him and his dreadlocks dancing wildly about his head still charged from the blast, Gorak was the embodiment of rage as he charged into the back of the yeti, bringing his cudgel down across the back of the beast's neck.  The yeti howled in pain but rushed on, trying to escape.  Gorak followed behind, hammering relentlessly at the creature's back.  Unable to withstand the brutal assault, the yeti dumped Khalid and turned to face the threat behind him  Khalid  scrambled to his feet, and waded awkwardly away, trying to put some distance between himself and the fight.  Gorak danced around the yeti, easily outrunning it as he called down a third strike from the clouds above.  The yeti, badly wounded, turned and fled.

Both Khalid and Gorak ignored the fleeing yeti and headed after the one carrying Shayla.  She  was no longer screaming, and her head lolled limply to the side as she bounced in the creature's rough grasp.  Khalid quickly foundered in the snow and realized he would never be able to catch up to the beast as Gorak raced past him, his long strides quickly eating up the distance between them.  With mounting trepidation, Khalid watched the yeti drag Shayla towards a rocky cliff face.  The creature could undoubtedly climb far better than Gorak and was obviously hoping to take refuge among the rocks and boulders above.  

Gorak saw the danger before Khalid could call out a warning.  He slowed long enough to spit out a spell and set his hand alight with elemental flame.  Loping after the yeti, he drove his burning fist into the creature's back.  It screeched and snarled as Gorak continued to attack, fur and flesh beginning to smolder and blacken from the heat..

Unable to stand the searing assault, the beast dropped Shayla and ran as fast as it could for the cliff.  Gorak stopped chasing it, and as soon as he judged the yeti a safe distance from Shayla, raised his hand into the air above his head, and closed it into a fist.  The yeti staggered as the first bolt of lightning struck it, burning the fur completely off it's right side.  Before it had a chance to even topple to the ground, a second bolt snaked down from the sky in a titanic flash that blinded Khalid momentarily.  The thunder that followed rumbled on for what seemed like an eternity while the spots and sparks slowly faded from Khalid's sight.  When his vision finally cleared, he could see nothing left of the yeti, save a blacked, smoking crater in the hillside.

Puffing and wheezing, Khalid pushed through the snow as quickly as he could towards Shayla.  By the he reached her, Gorak had already knelt down and muttered a few words, causing the flames on his hand to flutter out.  Khalid hovered over him, frowning worriedly.  “Ah, is she okay?” he asked, just as her eyes began to flutter open.

“She'll live,” Gorak grunted as he hauled her to her feet, and steadied her with a hand on her arm.

Blinking and shaking her head, Shayla finally regained her senses and smiled at Khalid and Gorak.  She was about to say something when her nose wrinkled.  Sniffing at her sleeve, she twitched back before she came within half a foot of it..“EEEEEEEEEEEEWWW,” she gasped. “I smell like wet dog!  I'm not going anywhere until I get cleaned up.  Khalid,” she demanded, “open up a portal.”

Looking at Gorak helplessly, Khalid started to cast the spell.  Gorak just grunted in annoyance.  “Fine, you two stay here, I'm gonna go take a look around, try to find the start of the pass.  We gotta be close now.”  He turned and jogged away towards the mountains.

The short length of rope that Khalid carried for the spell slowly rose into the air, and the portal opened.  Brushing past him, Shayla threw her pack up through the gate, and vanished up the rope.  As Khalid placed a hand on it, her head poked back out through the portal.  “And where do you think you're going?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.  “I'm getting cleaned up.  Stay out there.”  With a jerk, she pulled the rope out of his hand, and sealed the gate.

Shivering in the cold, Khalid grabbed his hat by the legs and pulled it down firmly around his ears.  Muttering under his breath, he pinched his nose shut with one hand, and sat down in the snow,   sullenly cursing his fate, women in general, and his spell selection.

* * * * * * * * *​
Khalid groaned and pulled off his hat, using it to mop the sweat from his face.  Puffing heavily, he leaned against the mountain face and surveyed the steep climb ahead.  Two days ago, they had found the oddly shaped rock formation that indicated the start of the path into the mountains.  Despite the grueling hike and yeti, Khalid had to admit that so far, it hadn't been as bad as he feared.  Between Gorak's ability to navigate the harsh terrain and Khalid's magical shelter, they didn't have to worry about becoming trapped or succumbing to exposure at night.  Even the path, while steep, was easier to navigate than he expected. The constant wind whipping through the peaks swept it clear of snow and while it was narrow and treacherous in places, for the most part it was wide enough that they could walk in single file without worry of slipping and plunging over the thousand foot drop.

The weather had cooperated and was cold, but clear.  The day before, Gorak had taken pains to protect Sousee from the bitter cold during their march and, after being forced to listen to Khalid and Shayla complain all day, had finally relented and offered them the same magical insulation.  Although Khalid was thankful for the respite from the sub-zero temperature, he knew it was consuming a great deal of Gorak's power each day to protect them all.

Stuffing his hat into the rucksack on his back, he hurried to catch up with Gorak and Shayla, who turned a corner up ahead.   Gorak was on point as usual, although they did take turns when it became necessary to break a trail through heavy snow.  Rounding the corner in a hurry, he slipped on the icy rock and skidded into Shayla.  She steadied him with a hand on his arm and a glare, then turned back to listen to Gorak.

“As I was saying,” Gorak grunted.  “Here's a pretty good place to take a break.” He gestured at the path ahead, which widened enough for them to sit comfortably.  “Take a load off.  I'm gonna take a look around.”

“Sounds good,” Shayla replied, and then shrieked as Gorak stepped backward, and fell off the path.  Khalid dove to the ground, sliding to the edge of the cliff, and peered over.  He expected to see his friend smeared across the ground below, but his eyes widened as Gorak, plummeting head first towards the ground, began to shimmer and blur.  He was no more than fifty feet above the ground when he finished his transformation and opened his wings.  Taking the form of an eagle, he used the momentum of his dive to soar high into the air, circling above their heads, before vanishing over the mountains.

“Did you know he could do that?” Shayla accused Khalid, her voice trembling slightly as she regained her composure.

Khalid, his normally tan face the color of the snow beneath him, clambered to his feet and then clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking.  “Ah, no, that's a new trick to me as well, yes, quite.”

“Bastard,” Shayla muttered under her breath as she stared hard at the spot Gorak had vanished before turning and stomping back over to her pack.

“Indeed,” Khalid agreed, feeling more than a tinge of envy.

They traveled this way for the rest of the day and into the following, with Gorak in eagle form scouting ahead while Khalid and Shayla navigated the path.   After being gone several hours, Gorak finally returned as they were about to make camp.  He hovered briefly in front of them, before reverting to his natural form.  As Khalid was about to speak, he growled, “There's a guard post about half an hour up ahead, watching the path.  It's right around the spot that the path splits and,” he drew out a tattered piece of parchment and studied it briefly, “we gotta take the left path, that goes higher up into the mountains.”

“Ah, guard post?” Khalid asked.

“Goblins,” Gorak grunted.  “Two of em, and a wolf.  But don't worry about that, I'll take care of it in the morning.”

After a fitful night's sleep, plagued by dreams of deep caverns and red-skinned goblins, Khalid awoke, feeling as though he hadn't slept at all.  He stumbled out of the magical shelter into the frigid mountain air, and saw Gorak casting his daily protection on Shayla.  Repeating the divine words again, he walked past Khalid and cuffed him on the arm.  Instantly, Khalid stopped shivering as the temperature rose to a comfortable degree.

“I'm gonna go take care of them goblins,” Gorak said as he rumbled out another spell.  “You two just keep moving up the path, and I'll circle back when I'm done.”  

“Ah, perhaps there is no need?”  Khalid ventured hopefully.  “We are not interested in anything they have, yes, quite and only wish passage through their territory.  Perhaps, yes, perhaps they will simply allow us to pass unmolested?”

“Not likely,” Gorak growled, “and we can't risk it.  You two are having enough trouble up here already, without being harried by goblins every step of the way.  And besides,” he shrugged, “they're just goblins.”  Before Khalid could argue,Gorak cast another spell and then leapt off the cliff, shimmering into eagle form and flying away.  

Khalid and Shayla pressed on, moving slowly up the path.  Without Gorak to lead them, they walked cautiously, always fearful that the treacherous ground would betray them to their death.  Minutes later, the sound of distant thunder reached their ears and then Gorak returned, buzzing past them with a shrill cry before circling overhead  and flying back down the trail.

They found Gorak up ahead, perched upon a rock in bird form, picking at something on the ground.  As they neared, he lifted his head, tearing a strip of flesh of the mouse caught beneath his talons.

“That's disgusting!” Shayla said, horrified.

With a mocking shriek, Gorak launched into the air, swooping past Shayla and dropping the remainder of his breakfast on her boot before flying high into the air.  He circled briefly around a nearby cliff, drawing their eyes upward to what Khalid assumed had been the goblin outpost, still smoking slightly from repeated lightning strikes.

Cursing, Shayla cleaned off her boot and muttered to Khalid, “He's becoming downright insufferable lately.  Next time he tries something like that, we'll see how well he can fly with all his tail feathers burned off.

Gorak stayed close by now, and directed them towards a cleft in the cliff face, which, after a short climb, led them up to barren, windswept peak, covered with a thick crust of snow.  Khalid looked longingly over his shoulder at the path behind them, which seemed to slope gently down and to the south, presumably leading to a valley between mountains. 	Trying to remain optimistic, he welcomed the change of scenery at first, but his mood quickly soured.  The snow was almost firm enough to walk on.  Almost, but not quite, and every few steps their feet would plunge through the crust causing them to stumble.  Half walking, half crawling, they crossed the peak and descended down a narrow path, similar to the one leading to the peak.  They trudged on for several more hours, before the failing light made travel too dangerous.  As the sun set behind the peaks, Gorak flew off ahead, returning some time later.

He joined them in the magical shelter and pulled the rope up behind, sealing the gate.  “We got more trouble.”

“Ah, more goblins?” Khalid asked.

“Yup.  Too many for me to deal with alone, so we're gonna have to figure something out.”

“How many?” Shayla asked.

“At least five and some wolves, up on top of a kind of a pillar that looks right down on the path.  I circled it a few times, and I ain't sure I see any way to do it clean.”

“Perhaps, yes, perhaps we can just sneak past them?” Khalid offered leaning forward, eager at the prospect of avoiding a fight.  “It is within my ability to turn all of us invisible.  We can just walk past, leaving them none, yes, none the wiser.”

“Won't they see our foot prints appearing in the snow?” Shayla pointed out.

“Ah, yes, well, I hadn't thought of that,” Khalid admitted, slumping down in defeat.

“Now wait a minute, this might work out okay,” Gorak rumbled.  “You make sure they can't see us, and I'll make sure we don't hafta worry about no tracks.”

In the morning, Gorak proved his versatility by changing into a small scrub brush, outside the portal, to allow him to commune with the earth undetected.  Although not a perfect disguise, it was better than the alternative, and when both he and Khalid had finished their morning rituals, they set off.

They came creeping up on the goblin watch post just after noon.  Reasoning that the nocturnal, cave dwelling creatures would be their most disadvantaged under the blinding glare of the midday sun, they prepped themselves some distance away.  Quickly casting spells in rapid succession, their words were whipped away on the howling wind.

“Okay,” Gorak growled as he faded from sight.  “I'm gonna go about twenty feet up, Khalid, you go about ten and Shayla you just stay lower than that.  That way we won't run all over top of one another.  When we reach the other side, just come down real slow, and keep moving.  Since you're the only one that can see us Khalid, grab a hold of us and lead us down the path until we're clear.  Let's go.”

As he walked, Khalid flexed his hands idly, which felt oddly tacky as a result of Gorak's magic.  Despite knowing that his spell hid him from sight, Khalid's heart began to race as they approached the encampment.  Knowing that the goblins couldn't see him and actually standing in the middle of the path in broad daylight while goblins milled about overhead were two entirely different things.  He pushed Gorak forward, then watched nervously as he scuttled up the side of the rock face.  The pillar looked to be about sixty feet across and slightly more than half that distance across.  The top, which looked almost perfectly flat from Khalid's vantage, was about thirty feet above them.  Gorak climbed straight up, then begin to sidle across the cliff face, move quickly, but cautiously.  Waiting for him to make some progress, Khalid then nudged Shayla and sent her on.

Khalid took a deep breath, and followed after her.  The spell Gorak had imbued him with allowed him to easily grip the sheer rock face and he moved almost effortlessly up the side.  Seeing a shower of pebbles and snow trickle down, he paused briefly and then started moving again, slowly.

He was about half-way across the cliff, when a booted goblin foot appeared over the edge above him.  Freezing in place, Khalid waited anxiously, expecting for the alarm to be raised at any second.  Instead, the goblin simply dropped his trousers and proceeded to recycle his wine, almost on Khalid's head.  Alternately praying to and cursing the lost gods, Khalid waited until the goblin finished and staggered away, before picking his way gingerly to the other side.  Dropping to the ground, he corralled Gorak and Shayla and led them out of sight of the goblins.  

The hurried down the path, shooting worried glances over their shoulders long after Khalid's spell wore out.  Finally, spotting a small ledge up and away from the main path, Gorak called a halt.  “That took a lot out of us, and I didn't scout out much further than this last night.  Maybe we oughta just hole up here fer the night.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid agreed, his frayed nerves longing for the cool, gray expanse of the magical shelter.  Gorak hooked his hands together, and boosted Khalid, then Shayla up on to the ledge.  When he reached the narrow perch, Khalid opened a portal and clambered inside, extending a hand out to help Shayla.

Gorak stuffed his large wicket basket up through the hole, but then dropped back down.  “Alright, pull that rope up, but keep an out eye fer me,” Gorak called up. “I don't want to be stuck out here the whole damn night.”  And with that, he vanished from beneath the gate.

Khalid pulled the rope up and sealed the entrance.  He and Shayla took turns watching the gate, in case Gorak showed up in need of immediate help.  Unfortunately, since the gate opened straight down to the snowy ground of the ledge, it was spectacularly uninteresting.  Several hours passed, and Khalid was starting to fear for his ability to stay awake during the remainder of his watch, when Gorak flew into sight below.  Khalid kicked the rope out, and Gorak flew straight in, changing form beside his pack.  He kicked over the wicket basket, spilling Sousee out, who protested with an angry hiss.

As Gorak rummaged through his stuff, Khalid and Shayla looked at each other in concern.  “Ah, Gorak,” Khalid ventured carefully, “what's wrong?”

Gorak said nothing, seizing piece of parchment and unrolling it.  Staring at it intently, he snarled out a vicious curse and tore it in half, flinging the crumpled pieces to the ground.

“Ah, Gorak,” Khalid started again, “was that the map?”

“This bloody passage doesn't lead through the mountains.  It leads into a gods damned goblin warren.” Gorak spat in response.

“What?” Shayla asked, her voice rising slightly.

“You heard me.” Gorak snarled.

“Ah, perhaps we took a wrong turn, made a mistake, yes, mistake,” Khalid said, shaking his head in denial as he reached for the torn shreds of paper.

“We didn't make a wrong turn, or get lost or confused!” Gorak roared.  “I followed the damned  instructions!  This path don't lead nowhere except across very narrow bridge into a big stinking pile of dog-ing goblins.”*

Khalid and Shayla stared at him in silence as the enormity of what Gorak was suggesting sank in.  “And oh yeah,” Gorak continued in a caustic tone.  “It gets better.  I speak a bit of goblin, so I perched on a rock nearby some of their guards.  Turns out half their damn tribe has been scouring these mountains for us for a week.”

“Ah, a week,” Khalid said absently, with a little frown on his face.  “but that would mean...” he trailed off, his eyes widening.

“You said you were bottom of your class in the White Tower?  I never woulda guessed,” Gorak growled sarcastically as the truth of the matter descended on Khalid.

“What?” Shayla demanded angrily, stomping her foot on the ground.

“Ah, yes, well, we haven't been in the mountains for a week,” Khalid answered in a sick tone.  “So that means we've been...”

“Betrayed.”

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:
*Heh, I didn't actually look at the post after I put it up.  Evidently I'm using profanity without even realizing it - I wasn't even sure that the term I used here was a real word...apparently it is (but not according to dictionary.com) and it describes Gorak's feelings about those goblins perfectly.  I'll leave it to your imagination


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## TaranTheWanderer

Just a bump...


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## Galeman

back to work newb...


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## EternalNewbie

“So who set us up?” Shayla asked, after Gorak had calmed down a bit.

“Halaal,” Khalid answered immediately, “it has to be, yes, has to be Halaal.  The only question, yes, is whether or not Arbaq was involved.”

“Absolutely not,” Shayla replied without hesitation.

Gorak wasn't as quick to answer.  He scratched his jaw absently as he looked from Khalid to Shayla.  “Maybe.” he grumbled at last.  “Maybe he decided end our little arrangement on account of us messing about with Halaal, but if'n that devil don't scare him, I don't see one wizard without no spells giving him pause.  I don't see no profit it in.  Do you?” he asked Khalid.

“Ah, no, not really,” Khalid agreed.

“But even if he didn't set us up, he's a damned fool for not checking out his informants a little better,” Gorak growled.

“So what do we do now?”  Shayla asked.

Gorak shrugged.  “Simple, go forward or turn back.”

“Ah, forward?  Through the goblin warrens?” Khalid asked incredulously.

Shayla crossed her arms across her chest and shivered slightly.  “I don't think...” she started softly, then trailed off.  Starting again in a clearer voice, she said, “I don't think I'm ready for that.  Not yet.”

“Yeah, well that ain't exactly what I meant.  The path split a ways back.  Maybe that branch leads through to the other side.” Gorak rumbled.

“Ah, perhaps, or perhaps there is no route through the mountains and that was all just part, yes, part of the ruse.” Khalid pointed out.

“Ya, maybe,” Gorak agreed as he leaned back against the invisible boundary of the spell.  “But we've got enough provisions for months up here.  I can get around easy enough to scout out a trail and with my help, you two can make it over the rough spots.  One way or another, we're getting over these mountains.”

“What about the goblins?” Shayla asked.  “It's gonna be hard enough without them harrying us from one end of the mountains to the other.”

“We'll stomp that outpost flat on the way back.  Leave 'em a nice little warning.  Maybe they'll get the point.” Gorak gave them both an evil grin as he cracked his knuckles loudly.
“Ah, yes, well from what I've seen of goblins, you're going to have to impale each and every one of them before they get the point.” Khalid said bitterly, then he sighed wistfully.  “If I had access to alchemical supplies I could distill, yes, distill a narcotic.  A little bit in their cisterns, or in their food and the entire tribe would sleep, yes, sleep for a week.”

Gorak sat up quickly, an intent look on his face.  “What did you just say?”

“Ah, nothing Gorak,” Khalid said, dismissing the question with a wave of his hand.  “Just wishful thinking.  I have none, yes, none of what I would need.”

“Maybe you don't, but I do,” Gorak growled with a toothy grin.  “But I ain't gonna put 'em to sleep.  You remember, about a dozen years back, what happened in the poor quarter, out near the floodplains?”

“Ah, vaguely.  There was a pestilence, was there not? Some sort of fever, yes fever spread through the population.”

“Yup,” Gorak replied, “they even tried seal off the poor quarter.  None of my tribe could get inta the city for a month.  Well, I got a spell that can conjure up something just as nasty.  I'll turn myself into a big rat, and go fer a little stroll. I'll nip the first goblin I see and in a few days, we won't hafta worry about them bothering us no more.”*

“Ah, Gorak, didn't quite, yes, quite a few people die from that illness?” Khalid asked.

Gorak shrugged.   “I don't remember. Maybe some of the weaker folk.  But even so, we'd be doing 'em a favor.  You know, culling the herd a little before winter.  And you'd have to figure the chances are pretty good that the next time the universe spat 'em out, they'd be something a bit better off than these poor bastards.”

“Ah, well, yes, I suppose...” Khalid began.

“And it sure beats the alternative.  Or did you really want to do it the hard way, one at a time?” Gorak interrupted before he could finish.

“Well, no, of course not...” Khalid started again.

“If it means I don't have to go into those caves, I'm all for it.” Shayla spoke up eagerly.

“Ah, it's just that...” Khalid tried one last time.

“Look,” Gorak growled, growing impatient with Khalid's objections.  “They're bound to have a shaman or a wiseman or something.  It'll probably just make 'em real sick for a little while 'till they get it under control.”

Outnumbered and overruled, Khalid abandoned his objections and resigned himself to the plan.  They had to wait until the next day for Gorak to acquire the necessary spells and the time passed slowly in the featureless dimension.  In the morning, Gorak dropped out of the portal, and shifted his form into that of a tree.  An hour later, he briefly reverted back to his own form to cast a spell and then turned himself into a giant rat, and vanished out of sight.

Surprisingly, it didn't take him long to return.  Shayla nudged out the rope with the toe of her boot, opening the gate, and Gorak climbed in.  His customary scowl was more pronounced then usual as he growled, “Well that was a waste of time.”

“Ah, what happened?” Khalid asked.

“Nothing.” Gorak grunted.  “I musta bit the healthiest goblin in the whole damn tribe.  The spell didn't take.  I think I can get another shot at it again tomorrow.  I got outta there pretty quick after I attacked him and judging from the state of that cesspool, rat bites are a pretty common occurrence.”

Forced into inactivity and stuck within the cramped confines of Khalid's spell for another day,  boredom weighed heavily on Gorak and Shayla.  Gorak in particular found the bland and empty dimension hard to endure.  Khalid took advantage of the brief respite to resume his studies and was pleased with the progress he made.  Looking over his notes before putting them away for the night, he was certain he was on the verge of unlocking a new combination of formulae that would increase his growing repertoire.

Gorak was already gone by the time Khalid and Shayla awoke.  They passed the time with idle talk, as they waited for him to return.  Judging from the light outside, it was just past mid morning when he returned.  He stormed into the portal without a word, and the foul expression on his face told Khalid everything he needed to know.

“No luck?” Shayla asked him, somewhat courageously.

Khalid could see the explosion coming, but to his surprise, Gorak paused for a second and mastered his emotions before growling, “No.  This has got to be the hardiest damn tribe of goblins in the West.”

“Maybe it's the mountain air,” Shayla suggested.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, this ain't gonna work.  Worse yet, I think they're on to me.  The bastard that I bit clubbed me, and he got real excited when I didn't squish like he was expecting.”

“Ah, yes, well, what are we going to do now?” Khalid asked, although he was fairly certain he knew what Gorak's answer would be.

“Back to the original plan,” Gorak growled.  “We hole up here for a bit 'till they calm down, and then we go stomp the piss outta those buggers on the plateau on the way out.”

With a task before them, the time passed a little more quickly as they each undertook their own preparations.  Outside, Khalid was dismayed to notice it had begun to snow until Gorak pointed out that it would cover their tracks and any signs of the battle they were about to initiate.  They dropped out of the portal and hurried up the path towards the outpost.  As they walked, Gorak ran through the plan one last time, in the thick growl that passed as whispering for him.  “When we get close, I'll make it easy for us to climb up the side.  I'll check it out first, then start climbing.  You two follow me up.  I'll try to keep 'em back away from the ledge, long enough for you two to get your footing.  Once we're up there, just finish 'em off like usual.”

Khalid's heart began to hammer in his chest, long before he caught sight of the plateau.  The odd stickiness that accompanied Gorak's spell wasn't helping either, as it prevented him from fiddling with his spell components.  Muttering a calming mantra under his breath, he stopped speaking as Gorak motioned for them to stop.  Scarcely before Khalid realized it, the situation became deadly serious.  Gorak poked his head around a sharp jut of rock, then sprinted across the twenty feet of open ground to the side of the pillar.  Leaping into the air, he caught the rock face of the cliff with one hand, about eight feet off the ground, and swung his other hand overhead to grab a hold.  Moving quickly, Gorak scaled the rock face.

Hesitating for only a second, Khalid ran after him, with Shayla a step behind.  His breath whistling in short gasps between clenched teeth, Khalid clutched at the rock and began to climb.   His robes billowed out around him as he scuttled up the cliff face below Gorak.  Gorak reached the top and Khalid sidled away, trying to avoid the shale and ice tumbling down on him.  The move saved his life as Gorak, scrambling to his feet at the top of the cliff, was surprised by a quick witted goblin.     Driving a shield into his face, the goblin sent Gorak tumbling backwards off the plateau with a roar.  Narrowly missing Khalid, he plunged thirty feet to the ground below.  Fortunately for both Gorak and Sousee, a snowbank at the base of the cliff broke their fall somewhat.

Khalid, feeling dreadfully exposed but knowing he wouldn't fare any better than Gorak if he continued climbing, stopped where he was and began to recite the complex intonations of his most powerful summoning spells.  A goblin, hearing the noise, leaned out over the edge, giving Shayla a chance to incinerate him.  As the smoking body fell past Khalid, he forced out the last words of his spell and struggled mightily to impose his will on the resisting creature.  Then, with a flash of flame, a huge muscled hound, snorting sulfurous smoke, appeared on the ledge directly above Khalid's head.  It immediately vanished  out of sight, but the screams of panic from above left no doubt the effect the hell hound was having.  Moving sideways another half dozen feet, Khalid started casting again almost immediately.

A goblin appeared above Shayla and fired an arrow down at her, barely grazing her shoulder.  The goblin tried to duck back out of sight, but Shayla cast out a handful of glittering discs and took his head clear off before he could take cover.

Gorak, groaning, staggered to his feet at the base of the cliff, and then cursed as the goblin head bounced off the rock above him and showered him with gore.  Gripping the cliff face carefully, he began to climb upwards again, carefully watching the ledge.  He passed Khalid on the way by, who finished his second summoning spell, and summoned a powerful hunting mastiff up on the plateau.  Although small compared to its infernal cousin, the hound still and had a powerful bite, and attacked the goblins with heedless fury at Khalid's urging.

A second after the dog vanished from sight another burned goblin, this one covered in smoldering bites, toppled over the ledge.  There was a short scream, followed by a horrible gurgling sound, and then silence.  After a moment, Khalid looked at Gorak and Shayla, and then the three of them climbed the rest of the way to the top.  Peering over the edge just in time to see the hunting dog disappear, they were greeted with a grisly scene.  Three mauled goblins lay scattered about the watch post, two of them badly scorched.  After a quick glance through the camp, they circled the edge of the plateau, watching the path below for any escaping goblins.  Satisfied after a few moments, that there were no survivors, they considered their next course of action.

“Let's just stay here,” Gorak growled.**

“Ah, are you sure about that?” Khalid asked, somewhat nervously.

“Sure,” Gorak grunted as he heaved one of the corpses far over the edge of the path below, into a ravine several thousand feet deep.  “We'll just tidy up here.  With all this snow falling, it'll look like we've never been here in a few hours.” He paused to boot an arm off the ledge. “When the replacements get out here, they'll think these guys ran off scared, or are chasing us, or just got bored and wandered away.  Then in the morning, when your spell runs out, we'll jump out and take care of 'em.  Two fer the price of one, eh?”  He grinned toothily at Khalid and Shayla.

Too wound up to argue, Khalid helped dispose of the remainder of the goblin camp, and then opened up another portal for them.  He spent a fitful night tossing and turning, dreaming of distant, darkened caverns and awoke several times to hear Shayla muttering under her breath in her sleep.

He rose the next morning feeling groggy and stiff.  He stumbled about in a daze, absently shuffling his possessions around while his mind slowly switched on.  After a few minutes, he realized that Gorak was awake, standing over the portal and staring intently at the ground below.  As Khalid walked over to see what he was looking at, Gorak grunted, “What's that look like to you?”  He pointed, somewhat unnecessarily, at the ground.

At first, Khalid saw nothing, as his eyes adjusted to the bright glare of sunshine reflecting off the snow.  Then he squinted as a gust of wind swirled the snow around.  “Ah, that looks like a rope.”  Another gust of wind kicked up, and scoured more of the snow away.  “Yes, quite.”

“That's what I thought.  You'd better get Shayla up. I don't think we're alone up here.” 

Shayla woke up grumbling at Khalid's urgent prodding, but quickly shook herself awake when they explained what was happening.  Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Shayla asked, “Are you sure that isn't just a piece of junk from their camp?”

“I don't think so, I'm pretty sure that wasn't there last night,” Gorak replied.

“So what do we do now?” Shayla asked, stifling a yawn.

“Khalid, how much time we got left in here?”

“Ah, about two hours.”

“Alright.  So we sit tight in here for a bit and let them freeze.  The longer they wait out there, they less alert they'll be.  I ain't got much in the way of magic left after last night, but I gotta coupla surprises still.”

“So let me get this straight,” Shayla said in a dangerously calm voice.  “You just woke me to tell me we're not going to be doing anything for the next two hours.  Is that right?”

“Ah, well, yes,” Khalid stammered, “I suppose it is.”

Shayla glared at the two of them wordlessly, then grabbed her bedroll and wrapped herself up in it.  Whatever else she had to say to them was muffled by her pillow, but Khalid was fairly certain that he got the gist of it.

Khalid sat down to study his spells for the day while Gorak took up watch at the portal.  By the time Khalid had finished studying, Shayla was awake again and, unfortunately for the goblins outside, in an even fouler mood then before.  They gathered up their belongings as Khalid ran through the plan quickly.  “Ah, the first person out of the portal is going to be in significant, yes, significant danger, so I'm going to summon a hellhound, and send it out first.  It should draw, yes, draw their initial attacks giving me time to escape, invisible and unnoticed.  Yes, quite.  Then I'll begin to summon more fiends to aid us while Gorak drops through the gate.”

“Maybe I should go next,” Shayla interrupted.  “You know, to provide some covering fire.”

Khalid could see the bloodlust rising in her eyes, and hurried on, “Ah, no, that's probably not a good idea.  Some of them might be disciplined, yes, disciplined enough to hold their attacks, so it should be Gorak next.  Yes, quite.”

Without knowing how many goblins were outside, or where they were arranged, there was no use in any further planning.  Taking a deep breath, Khalid launched into a spell, and faded from sight.  Gorak gathered up the rope and prepared to open the portal as Khalid started in on his summoning spell.  The instant the slavering demonic hound appeared, the battle began.


----------



## EternalNewbie

Gorak tossed the rope out, and opened the gate.  Khalid barked out an order in the hideous infernal tongue and the hound dropped through.  It had barely touched the ground when it leapt up, twisting its body in the air as the snow beneath it exploded.   It sprang away as it landed and vanished out of sight.

Khalid had no time to be scared as he jumped out of the gate and took off running.  Months of hard travel and dangerous living had given Khalid the eye of a seasoned campaigner.  As he sprinted clear of the portal, he quickly assessed the battlefield.

There were maybe fifteen goblins arrayed against them, posted in a semi circle around the plateau, and two more archers hanging from the cliff face across the path.  The trap that Khalid's hellhound had dodged was a fairly typical, poorly thought out, goblin affair.  A net, buried in the snow, had been tied between two powerful canines.  At the first sign of movement, the dogs had bounded to their feet and ran towards their handlers.  Having failed to capture the hellhound, however, there was no resistance on the dogs and they raced clear across the plateau, inadvertently snaring two hapless goblins who were moving into position to attack.  The four went down in a snarling tangle of fur, fangs, claws and rope.

The hellhound had darted away from the trap and being semi intelligent, ran towards a group of three rather surprised looking goblins.  It stopped directly in front of them, and vomited out a wave of flame that scorched the stunned goblins.  One of them toppled soundless over the edge, while the others shrieked and fired their small crossbows blindly trying to drive the hound back.

The air was filled with the sound of humming bowstrings as several more goblins fired small crossbows.  The two archers on their narrow perch across the path were firing relentlessly if not particularly accurately.  Khalid started to cast as Gorak dropped out of the gate.  As he had predicted, a few of the more level headed goblins had held their fire and now loosed a volley of bolts at Gorak, who flinched and growled as several of the darts landed true.  Recognizing the danger of the two archers on the opposite cliff, as they drew a bead on him, Gorak edged back to avoid being surrounded and launched into a spell.

By the time Shayla joined the fight, most of the goblins were busy reloading, or fleeing from the hellhound.  She didn't even move as she dropped, catlike, out of the gate and spat out the words to a spell.  Three glittering discs arced from her hand, the high pitched whine that accompanied their unerring flight turning into meaty thuds as they found their mark.  A goblin took one in the chest and another in the throat, dropping instantly.  The other disc veered sharply and grievously wounded a goblin frantically trying to load his crossbow.

As Khalid reached the pinnacle of his spell, he caught sight of three figures cowering near a jumble of rock; two distinct looking goblins in polished steel breastplates, and a suspiciously familiar looking humanoid in a long gray robe.  With a gesture, he wrestled forth another hellhound, and dropped it beside the three at the same instant that Gorak conjured up a hippogriff.  The huge beast took to wing immediately, and flew over to harry the two archers.  The hellhound didn't even have to move to bathe the three enemies in flame.

The rapidly dwindling number of goblins fired another volley of bolts at Gorak, scoring a half dozen hits.  Shayla returned fire, and felled another two goblins with bright lancets of force as Gorak raised his club with a roar, and half charged, half staggered into the goblin warriors, battering at them with his cudgel.  Finally having the breath to speak, Khalid shouted, “Shayla, those three, yes, three to your left! Don't let them escape.”

Even as Khalid directed Shayla's attention, the lanky, robed figure abandoned the fight, and dove  into a concealed tunnel near the edge of the cliff.  The larger of the two remaining goblins clawed his way past the other, and followed the beast into the hole, as Shayla turned.  Khalid and Shayla both began to cast, almost in unison.  A flash of golden sparks blinded two panicked looking goblins, while Shayla destroyed another with a blast of flame.  Gorak was still taking the occasional dart from the last remaining goblin crossbowman on the plateau as he warily circled an axe wielding foe, unable to gain the advantage.  The hippogriff, having dragged one of the unfortunate goblins archers away from the cliff face, swooped down and crushed the other's head in its powerful beak.

The hellhounds sprinted over, and mauled the axe wielding goblin facing Gorak, who took advantage of the goblin's plight to cave in his skull with his cudgel.  The crossbowman, seeing overwhelming odds and no chance of mercy, gambled and leapt off the top of the pillar, hitting the ground below with a sickening crack.  As Shayla turned on the goblin in the breastplate, and began to advance on him, he immediately threw his sword on the ground and croaked out, in passable Westron, “I surrender!”

“Oh yeah,” Gorak growled as he marched over to Shayla.  “And jush why should we care about that?”

“I know what you want,” the goblin said hastily, dropping to his knees, “and I can help you get it.”

“Izzat so?” Gorak growled, his voice laced with scorn.  He did, however, stop advancing.

“Yes,” the goblin replied, emboldened by the chance to barter.  “You seek a way through the mountains.  Even for three such as you, the path will be difficult.  I can help you!” he blurted out in a rush.

“Bah,” Gorak spat.  “Like I'd trush you to lead me anywhere other than onta a goblin spear!”

“Perhaps, yes, perhaps we should consider this for a moment, Gorak.” Khalid said, placing a restraining hand on Gorak's arm.

“What harm can I do you, bound and watched?” the goblin pressed on, sensing a potential ally in Khalid.

“Typical goblin treashery,” Gorak sneered, “Swishing sides as fash as he can speak tha words.”

“Consider this, Orc,” the goblin retorted, his voice seething with anger.  “The two men who ordered me up here, solely to their own personal benefit, are currently running away from here as fast their cursed feet will carry them.  Why should I show them more loyalty then they have shown me?”	

“We can at least hear him out, while we clear outta here.” Shayla interrupted as she quickly scavenged the goblins for anything useful.  Disappointed, she shouldered her pack and examined the hidden escape tunnel.

“Fine!  But thish don't mean I won't drop you o'er the edge of the cliff.”  Gorak slurred.

Khalid frowned and peered at Gorak, who turned his back and walked over to the knotted mass of fur and rope that was the end result of the goblin's failed trap.  He practically fell to one knee when he reached it, and fumbled at his waist for his belt knife.  Khalid walked over to him, concern etched on his face, while keeping a wary eye on the goblin.  Immediately, he could see that Gorak was in trouble.  His hands were trembling, and his skin, normally as black as obsidian, was ashen gray and slick with sweat.  Gorak glanced up, and Khalid could see a line of blood on the left side of his face, which now seemed to sag down in a rather peculiar way.

“Poishun,” Gorak muttered.  “Thosh bassard's had poishun arrows.  I'm jush about finish'd, but don let that goblin shee.”

With a shaking hand, Gorak pulled out his belt knife.  A hound, the only thing to survive the disastrous trap, whimpered softly as Gorak put it out of its misery.  Then, taking a deep breath, Gorak forced himself back up to his feet.  Walking stiffly, he shouldered his pack with a grunt and moved towards Shayla.

Before he reached her, she turned turned around with a disgusted look on her face.  “We can't go down the same way they did.  They jammed up the tunnel good, and you don't wanna know with what.  If we want down, I think we're climbing.”

“Ah, perhaps we should make camp here again tonight?” Khalid offered, with a glance at Gorak.  “With the tunnel blocked, yes, blocked, the goblins will be most unlikely to attack again I should think.  Yes, quite.”  He looked hopefully at the goblin.

The goblin nodded, looking somewhat pained.  “You have slaughtered many of the best scouts and warriors of the tribe.  I do not think they will dare to climb up here to face you three again.  I think tonight, the remaining warriors will be busy inquiring of the spiritwalker how the auguries could have been so misleading.”

They kept watch for several hours from the edge of the pillar, to see if the goblins would be foolish enough to return.  After several hours of seeing little but falling snow, they retreated into Khalid's magical shelter.

There was some debate, initially, as to whether or not the goblin was going to be brought into their hiding space, but eventually Gorak relented.  They agreed on a watch order, and hauled him up the rope.  Loosing his bonds a bit while they ate, they discussed the goblin's arrangement.

The goblin, it turned out, didn't know the way through the mountains.  But he know somebody that did.  The goblin would lead them to this friend in exchange for his freedom.

“And what's the catch?” Shayla asked him shrewdly, as she absently twirled a strand of her fiery red hair around a finger.

“The catch,” the goblin continued with unpleasant grin, “is that the bastard that's caught him, is not going to let him go without a fight.  I will aid you of course.”

“Ah, yes, well, I'm not quite, yes, quite sure that I'm just going to burst in on some poor chap and assassinate him, on the word of some goblin,” Khalid said.  “Ah, no offense,” he added, with an apologetic look at the goblin.

“None taken,” the goblin said with a smirk that showed his pointed teeth.  “But you must understand something,” he continued as the grin faded away.  “Killing this man will be doing the world a favor.  This place is not so desolate as it first appears and these mountains are home to far more things than goblins.  This thing preys on them all.  The goblins learned long ago to avoid him; they have neither the will nor the strength to fight him.  And neither did I,” the goblin admitted, “until that son of a bitch took my friend.  You three are different though.  You're organized, and you're strong.  Strong enough to kill him.”

Khalid watched the goblin carefully as he spoke, absently stroking his beard.  He detected no falsehood in the creature's speech, and his face betrayed nothing but sincerity.  Still, Khalid admitted to himself, he didn't have a lot of experience dealing with goblins in any fashion other than setting them on fire.  “Ah, what has this friend done for you, to inspire such courage?” he asked curiously.

“He did me a kindness once,” the goblin growled.  “Unasked for, and expecting nothing in return.  That's pretty damn rare around these parts and he deserves the same.  And besides, I know of no other who has traveled the mountains as extensively as he has.  He will not only set your feet upon the path, he will show you the _way_ through the mountains,” the goblins said sagely.

Gorak, Shayla and Khalid conferred together, in low whispers as far away as they could get from the goblin in the tiny space.  In the end, they decided to at least keep the goblin around a little longer, to feel out his story a bit more and see if he'd slip up.

Khalid, in an uncharacteristic fit of charity, volunteered for the middle watch, and immediately regretted it upon being woken by Gorak.  Finally dredging his mind out of its sleep shrouded fog, he picked up his spellbook and absently scratched out a few formula.  His eyes kept drifting up however, to look at the goblin, who was awake and staring back at him.  Realizing he wasn't going to get any serious work done, he abandoned his book and moved closer to the goblin.  “Ah, you're an odd one, aren't you?” Khalid asked in a low whisper, not really expecting much response from the surly goblin.

“I suppose I am,” he agreed with a nod.  The goblin's whitish gray skin blended well with the smoky horizon created by the spell, making it look at times as though he was sinking into the surroundings.  “I suspect that you'll want to discuss your foe?” he whispered back with a  look of cunning on his tiny face.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid agreed and opened his spellbook to a blank page to take notes.

“Then let us plot and scheme my friend,” the goblin said wickedly, “for those are traits I share with my kin, in abundance.”

Unfortunately, what the goblin did know was sketchy and based mostly on hearsay and rumor.  He was able to rough out a passable map of the entrance to the beast's lair but knew little more of value other than their foe was some sort of magi or wizard and had his friend imprisoned and quite possibly enslaved somehow.  Much to Khalid's delight, the goblin was also able to confirm his suspicions about  their mysterious stalker.  The creature was almost certainly Arbaq's informant: a foul tempered and half deranged gnoll.

Although not particularly relishing the prospect of a brisk, early morning climb down an icy cliff face, Khalid managed to make it down without much difficulty, as did Shayla and the goblin.  Gorak dislodged the grapple and tossed the rope down, before shifting form and swooping low off the cliff.  He circled around their heads twice and then flew off down the path.  They pushed on for several hours, reaching the split in the path and taking the other fork, which the goblin assured them would eventually lead them out.  They kept careful watch ahead and behind, for any sign of goblins but by the time they could go no further, they had seen no signs of pursuit.	

The day's gruelling hike, the first after several days of relative inactivity, weighed heavily on all of them.  Frustrated by the hard climbing and lack of progress, Khalid opted for first watch in an effort to spend some time putting the finishing touches on a new set of formula.  By the time his shift was over, Khalid was wide awake and engrossed in his work and sleep was a long time in coming.  Just as he put his head down, it felt like it was time to get up and start moving again.  In foul humor, he ate in silence and jumped out of the portal as soon as Gorak indicated it was clear.  The path ahead, looked if anything, more ominous and treacherous under the harsh glare of the morning sun than it had the evening before.  At their left was a sheer rock face, several hundred feet high, while on their right the path sheered away sharply, falling a thousand feet or more into the valley below.  It was narrow and steep and crusted with snow and ice.  They set a cautious pace with Gorak out in front, breaking the trail, and Shayla following close behind.  Khalid, was at the very back, keeping an eye on the goblin in front of him.  While he felt exposed at the back of the group, he certainly didn't mind walking on a well trodden path.  As the day wore on, the path began to take them up higher into the mountains, instead of lower as it first appeared.  Soon they were wading through snow up to their knees and the bright sun flashed off the surroundings, blinding and disorienting them.

Khalid glanced up in surprise as he heard a sound that he'd never heard before, but recognized instantly.  He grabbed at the cliff face as huge weight of snow fell on him with a deafening roar.   Blinded and crushed, Khalid somehow managed to hold his grip as the avalanche eased and the noise abated.   Frantic, he clawed at the snow in front of his face and burst free of the snow, taking in a huge gulp of air.  He saw Gorak emerge at the front, shaking the snow free of his dreadlocks.

The seconds passed as Khalid, still panicked, struggled to free himself from the weight pinning him to the ground.  His legs were bent awkwardly under the snow and he couldn't get a firm hold or the leverage to free himself.  He glanced up as Gorak called out a warning, but the words were lost to him as a terrible thought dawned on him.

“Gorak!” Khalid shouted, “Where's Shayla!”

* * * * * * * * * *​
*Heh, this was mostly my plan, but I was just as happy it didn't succeed.  As a player, the prospect of easy XP appealed to me, but really, from Khalid's point of view, it was pretty despicable.

**Sheesh.  You'd think we'd learn.


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## Ed Gentry

I'm happy to see this one back!


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## EternalNewbie

Thanks.  Honestly, I'm a little surprised that there's anybody still following the story, given my long delays in getting new posts up.  I was hoping to manage two a month until I was caught up, but once a month is probably more realistic.  I've can only allocate so much time to D&D, and between this, running a game for Shayla, Gorak, Mrs. Gorak and Ronik (from Chapter 1) and all the prep work that entails, and intermittently playing in another campaign...heh, well, yeah, once a month probably.


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## The Axe

We'll be here.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

**Applause for the last couple of updates**

I'll be around looking out for more, however long it takes, EN.


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## Mahtave

As will I EN!  This story is a good one indeed!


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## TaranTheWanderer

> Ah, perhaps we should make camp here again tonight?” Khalid offered, with a glance at Gorak. “With the tunnel blocked, yes, blocked, the goblins will be most unlikely to attack again I should think. Yes, quite.” He looked hopefully at the goblin.




This was a tough choice; we didn't want to stay but Gorak was almost helpless with the amount of strength damage he took.  I think the fort save against those arrows was 15 and I had a +9 to my save - but alas, it was one of those nights.  I started with 18str and took close to 15pts of str damage.  I was worried about those secondary saves, because if I was too weak to cast 'lesser restoration' in the morning, we might have been up there for days....

BTW, on another note: 



> *Heh, this was mostly my plan, but I was just as happy it didn't succeed. As a player, the prospect of easy XP appealed to me, but really, from Khalid's point of view, it was pretty despicable.




I think it was primarily MY idea to cast 'contagion' on the goblins (Come on admit it EN, I was excited about getting to use my new spells!!!  When do you ever ACTUALLY get to use 'contagion' for anything useful?).  Now, Gorak's "world view" is probably a bit different than that of most people's, and although he didn't see it that way, I guess the plan was pretty despicable


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## EternalNewbie

TaranTheWanderer said:
			
		

> I think it was primarily MY idea




Quiet you!  It's my story hour, and if I want to grossly inflate my own role in the campaign, I'll go right ahead...although, on second thought, considering how that all panned out, you can have the credit.  I'll take it for the ones that work   

Heh, well anyhow, the story continues....

* * * * * * * * *​
A scream from below sent relief crashing over Khalid.  It evaporated instantly as Shayla screamed again, “Khalid! Gorak!  Help me!”

“Shayla!” Khalid yelled down as he struggled to free himself.  “Ah, are you okay?”

“I think my leg's broke! And there's something down here with me!”

“We'll get you out of there,” Khalid called back, although he wasn't sure how.

“Get back!” Shayla screamed, then began to cast.

Khalid glanced at Gorak, but he was in the middle of a spell.  Eyes closed, his powerful voice echoed off the peaks around them as the clouds above began to gather and darken.

Feeling helpless, Khalid leaned forward and dug into the snow.  Grabbing the goblin by the scruff of the neck, he dragged him up, gasping and sputtering.  As a crack of thunder split the air, Khalid shook the little goblin frantically, trying break his confusion.  Seeing the goblins eyes focus on him, Khalid pulled him close and hissed into his tufted ear, “Ah, we do not want this.  Your people or mine!  Call for parlay!  Make them talk!”

Nodding in understanding, the goblin began to shout at the top of his lungs.  The two figures on the ridge above them had faded back out of sight and in the eerie silence after the lightening, the goblin's voice carried through the mountains.  Khalid dug for his spell components, desperately hoping the goblins would listen to reason instead of dropping more of the mountain on them.  A few agonizing seconds past before a rasping voice answered back.  Khalid couldn't understand what they were saying, but Gorak lowered his hand slowly.

The goblin exchanged more words with his hidden tribesman.  Fearing to even try to dig himself out, lest it be construed as a hostile action, Khalid waited anxiously.  Finally, the goblin exhaled slowly, “They have agreed to speak with you.  They will join us down here, on equal footing, shortly.”

Gorak pushed himself up on top of the snow with a grunt and leaned over the edge.  “Shayla,” he barked, “are you safe?”

Khalid struggled out of the snow, and dared to look out over the edge.  Shayla was lying, half buried under a mound of snow, about forty feet below them.  Her face was pale from pain and shock, and her fiery red hair looked like a smear up blood upon the white snow.  “I burned whatever was down here, and it ran off I think.  Get me out of here.”

Working quickly, they fashioned a crude harness out of their climbing ropes, and threw it down to her.  Looping it under her shoulders, Shayla gasped in pain as the three of them began to haul her up the side of the cliff.  Even though she was slight, and Gorak did most of the work, Khalid was gasping and sweating by the time her head appeared over the edge of the cliff.  Gorak quickly mended her leg with a few divine words while they waited for the goblins to appear.

About twenty minutes later, two goblins, following an enormous worg came down the path from behind them.  The worg's mottled greyish fur was burned and scorched, from the corner of its right eye all the way down its flank.  It padded up the trail until it was no more than ten feet from Khalid, and sat down on its haunches.  Khalid, having been hastily nominated to deal with the goblins, looked up and prepared to greet them as they approached, when the worg growled in rough western, “Speak to me human.  I speak for chief.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered, trying to hide his surprise.  He recovered quickly and got straight to the point, ignoring the fact that he was speaking to a large dog.  “Very well then.  You have been misled by one who calls, yes, calls himself your friend.  The gnoll, he has perhaps told you we are thieves, come to take what is yours, or perhaps merely weak and foolish travelers, yes?  Well, I assure you, we are neither.  We counted him as our friend once too and were rewarded by being led into a trap.   Regardless of whether you agreed to help him or not, we would have been sent here, straight into conflict with your tribe.  He sought us out with purpose and knew full well the harm we would inflict upon you.”  

The goblins rankled at the subtle threat, but the worg just stared impassively.  Finally, it growled, “What do you want from us?”

“Ah, yes, while the gnoll poses no real threat to us, we would have the name of his master, so there will be no, yes, no mistake when this insult is returned in kind.  Deliver to us the gnoll and we will leave this place and bother your tribe no more.  Yes, quite.”

“Wait,” the worg barked.  “It will be decided.”  It turned and leapt over the two goblins, racing down the path.  The goblins stared hard at their tribesman, who was standing slightly behind Khalid, but when he made no move to follow, they turned away, scowling.

They set up their magical camp on the other side of the avalanche, on a clear, broad stretch of trail, and waited.  Gorak, protected from the cold and not particularly fond of the otherworldly expanse of shelter, offered to spend as much time outside on watch as possible.  After the first day went by, Khalid began to get concerned.  Considering the travel time, they could have arrived at any time if the answer had been immediately decided.

All his worrying was for naught as the next day, four goblins, carrying the trussed up gnoll on a spit between them appeared on the path, led by the huge worg.  It's burns had been completely healed and were only visible as lighter patches of fur along that side.  As the goblins dropped the gnoll roughly on the ground the worg growled, “There's answer.  One condition.  That one,” he twitched his snout towards the renegade goblin. “You take that one too.”

“Yes, quite.” Khalid nodded.

Without another word, the goblins dropped the gnoll's belongings on the ground and left.  After waiting to ensure they were well down the path.  They advanced on the gnoll.  Gorak had a broad grin on his face, and clapped Khalid on the arm as he walked past.  Shayla was watching their captive intently, muttering angrily under her breath.  Waving the goblin away, out of earshot, Khalid inspected the gnoll.  The reason for the delay became apparent from the number of wounds on the gnoll.  It had been beaten severly.  It's upper lip was in tatters, and several of its top fangs were broken.  Its right eye was gone, and what was left of its ruined clothing was stained with blood.  It was barely conscious, and shied away from Khalid more out of instinct than recognition.

“Ah, Gorak, he's no use like this.”

“Right,” Gorak grunted.  “Seems like a waste though.”  He cast a spell on the helpless gnoll and slowly some of the more garish wounds began to mend.

While Khalid waited for the gnoll to regain consciousness, he idly walked over to where Shayla was sifting through the gnolls belongings.  She muttered a quick cantrip and then squealed in delight.  “Finally!  What do we have here?” She fished a long, wickedly curved dagger out of a tattered rucksack and sighed slightly.  “Give this to Gorak,” she said as she tossed the dagger aside.  As she dropped the bag on the ground, a small vial rolled out of a fold in the lining and bumped against Khalid's foot.

He bent over and picked it up, studying it carefully.  Some sort of white powder, one of a hundred possibilities.  He worked the stopper free, and took a whiff on the contents.  His eyes widened as he recognized the acrid smell, and he wet his finger and dipped into the vial, placing the tiniest bit on his tongue.  Spitting into the snow, he nodded to himself and put the vial in his pocket.  

Khalid returned to Gorak's side as he was slapping the gnoll awake.  The gnoll shook its head, and its one remaining eye focused on them.  As recognition dawned, its upper lip curled back in a snarl.

“Ah, yes, now that you're awake, we can get this whole mess sorted out,” Khalid began.  “Who sent you after us?”

“I not talk,” the gnoll muttered.  Gorak growled deep in his throat and stepped forward threateningly.  “You beat me, I not talk!” the gnoll rasped hastily.  “You let me go, I leave note, never come back.”

“Ah, no, I'm sorry my friend,” Khalid said as he shook his head sadly.  “I'm afraid we can't let you report back to your master with an assessment of our abilities.  Even were you to honor your word, you would be found, yes, found sooner or later.  Yes, quite.” 

“No,” he repeated again, “you will meet your final end in this place, and these mountains will mark your grave.  There is no question of that.  The true question you need to ask yourself, my friend, is how that end will come.”

Khalid leaned in close to the gnoll, inches away from his face.  “Gorak wants to break your wrists and ankles, and leave you here.  Shayla, yes, well the things she would do to you are best left unspoken.  Is that what you wish, my friend?  That your last hours be filled with pain and suffering?  Undoubtedly your will is strong and it will take time to break you, but eventually, after Gorak has revived you a few times, you will talk.”  Again Khalid shook his head.  “I have no wish to see you suffer, and so I offer you this choice.”  He pulled out the tiny vial of powder.  “Speak now.  Answer our questions truthfully and you will be rewarded.  A long peaceful sleep after a pleasant dream.  Yes, quite.  Think carefully my friend.   This offer will not, yes, not be made again.

Khalid stood up as the the gnoll regarded him carefully.  Its eyes darted to the vial in Khalid's hand and it began to speak in a low growl.  “Malakai.  Malakai sent me.”

Khalid hid his surprise, having already concluded that it was Halaal.  “Yes, quite.  Where is his base of operations?”

“In mountains, northeast of Gem-Sharad.  North of Knolton.”

“Indeed.  How did you infiltrate Arbaq's network?”

“Malakai tell me Arbaq want big secret real bad.  He tell me where big secret is, give me good story to tell.  Name of guy who knows another guy.  Arbaq want big secret so bad he take big risks.”

“Ah, yes, and your reward?”

“Malakai smart.  You wreck old business, he start new one.” The gnoll gestured at the vial in Khalid's hand with his snout.  “He spending lots of money, making big promises to get you.”

“Obviously not big enough.”

“Not yet,” the gnoll agreed with a vicious grin.  “But ten thousand sultana's?  There lots of hunters want to catch that prey.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered.  He stepped back to confer with Gorak and Shayla.  “I sensed no falsehood in his voice.”

“Yeah, it's a pretty good story if it ain't true.  It fits.” Gorak agreed.

“So is there anything else we need from this thing, or can we get moving?” Shayla asked pointedly.

“Ah, I doubt he'll know anything more significant than he's already told us.  I can't see a drug addled lapdog being deep within Malakai's council.  Yes quite.”

Uncorking the vial, Khalid walked over to the captive gnoll, and up ended the contents into his mouth without a word.  The gnoll swallowed, coughing as the bitter powder went down.  After a few minutes, its eyes rolled back and the bonds went slack.  Being over cautious, they waited for the end, and after an hour or so, the gnoll twitched violently, arching his back and straining at the ropes that bound him.  Then he went limp and moved no more.

Gorak checked the gnoll quickly, then nudged the body off the edge of the cliff into the valley below.  “Let's go,” he growled.  “We're done here.”

A day and a half later, and they still had not reached the boundry of the goblins territory.  The path had been difficult and in several places, completely blocked by snow.   Khalid was anxious to leave the goblin tribe behind, despite the fact that their presence was undoubtedly responsible for driving away any number of unpleasant predators.  When they stopped for the evening, Khalid opened a portal, but stayed outside as Shayla and the goblin vanished up the rope.  Pulling out his spellbook, he flipped it open, well aware of Gorak's curious gaze.   Running over the words one last time, he selected a point, thirty yards down the path, and began to focus his will.

“Whut're ya doing?” Gorak grumbled.

Khalid sighed and relaxed, letting the magick slip away.  “Ah, just trying out a new set of formulae.”

“So wut's gonna happen?”

“Ah, well, if everything works as I've planned, a portal will open.  But don't worry, whatever comes out of it will be fully under my control.  Yes, quite.”

“Now wait a minute, what do you mean, whatever...”

Khalid closed his eyes and began to chant, visualizing the formula in his mind.  Weaving through the complex motions that directed the energy, he opened his eyes and focused on a spot, some fifty feet down the path.  Khalid felt the magic surge through him as a thin disc opened parallel to the ground, right where he visualized it.  For a moment, nothing happened, then a thick fog, the colour of old rust, began to pour out.   

Gorak walked up behind him and stared at the mist slowly spilling over the edge of the path.  “Izzat doing what it's supposed to?”

“Ah, yes, ah, I'm not quite sure.” Khalid said, somewhat crestfallen.  “It was sort of a gamble.  I was hoping, yes, hoping to snare something useful, that had no particular, ah, agenda, shall we say.  It appears as though I've opened a gateway to a dead world, however.  Still, it may yet, yes, yet prove to be of some value.”

“Some of that stuff is getting pretty close.” Gorak grunted.

“Ah, it's probably not toxic,” Khalid assured him, watching the portal carefully as the magic weaves began to unravel and fade.  “And besides, the portal is failing, it will close shortly.”

“Yeah, but it's pretty windy up here, maybe you should step back some,” Gorak rumbled as he moved away.

Khalid turned to respond just as a gust of wind sheered through the peaks and wafted the leading edge of the smoke cloud over him.  Instantly his eyes watered and his throat seized up.  His lungs and sinsus felt as though he'd inhaled red hot embers.  “Back,” he gasped to Gorak as he staggered away from the cloud.  “Into the refuge.”

Gorak, seeing the look of horror on Khalid'd face, turned and leapt into the magical shelter.  Khalid was only a step behind, and clawed at the rope as the wind blew the mist closer.  Gorak's strong hands grabbed him as he crossed the barrier and hauled him inside.  Shayla grabbed the rope and tugged it inside, as the smoke swirled and billowed below.

Collapsing to his knees, Khalid wrapped his arms around around his chest and shuddered violently.  “Ah, that's dreadful!” he gasped when he could finally speak again.  “That's absolutely the worst, yes, worst stench I've ever encountered.”

“Really?” Shayla scoffed.  “What about the goblin jakes in Malakai's mine?”

“Lilacs, yes, lilacs and roses compared to that horror.”  Khalid's eyes crossed slightly and he snatched his hat off, just in time to be noisily sick in it.  While Gorak, Shayla and the goblin watched with thinly veiled amusement, Khalid continued to wheeze and sweat for several minutes.  Finally, still shivering slightly, he regained his composure.  Looking up with a somewhat sickly grin, he said, “Ah, I think perhaps that might, yes, might be a useful spell after all.  Describe to me again the beast's lair?”  He leaned back and as the goblin began to recite once more what he knew of their foes lair, the smile only grew larger.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Top class update again, EN. Keep 'em coming ...


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## Mahtave

Nice write up EN!

So, did Khalid just cast a "stinking cloud" or was he trying to actually summon something?


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## Galeman

Khalid did indeed cast stinking cloud.  It's a terrible, awful spell that I should disallow completely.  

That scene gives a good glimpse of Khalid's magical aptitude.  He was a total and utter failure at the wizard's school prior to the magical fallout.  After that point, he found that he had effectively "stumbled" upon the arcane formula that make his spellcasting possible in this age.  He's one of a very few who can wield arcane powers at this time.  

As for his summonings "failing" that's another issue that will become more and more apparent in the future.


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## EternalNewbie

Galeman said:
			
		

> Khalid did indeed cast stinking cloud.  It's a terrible, awful spell that I should disallow completely.




Bah.  If you had your way, the only spell I'd be able to cast is 'Sword' (non-verbal, somatic, material).     Heh, that being said, stinking cloud is one of the cornerstones of my arsenal and it gets a lot of use (no spell resistance is a big plus).

I always intended Khalid to be pretty much a pure summoner - it fits in nicely with his cowardly nature to have others doing the fighting for him.  I'm still clinging to that, even though practically speaking I don't summon creatures all that often and the druid class is probably better at it - so to make myself feel better I try to add a little flavor to my spells.  From a campaign standpoint, at this point Khalid was beginning to get a little nervous about summoning devils, so I was starting to hunt for alternatives - demons are too unpredictable and he's never been a really big fan of celestials/angels (they aggravate his inferiority complex and really, how can you force an angel to say, murder a helpless opponent?  That just seems like bad karma and Khalid's already got enough problems - at least the devils enjoy it).  You can probably see where this is going...

From a character standpoint, I had Khalid pretty much planned out from level 1 - but it's always to have a story to drape over all power gaming I do (and make no mistake, I'm a huge munchkin   )


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## javcs

GAH!
I just read through this thread in one sitting! 

Subscribing to it now.


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## Galeman

Bah!  Hurry up and post that new update you've done...


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## EternalNewbie

“Alright, here's how it's gonna go,” Gorak began before he was interrupted by Khalid's casting.  With a sheepish grin, Khalid tossed a tiny strip of leather into the air as golden bands of magical armor wrapped around him.

“Okay,” Gorak growled with a pointed look at Khalid.  “So I checked this place out and it's pretty much like we expected.  It's cut into the side of the mountain up ahead, about fifteen feet off the ground.  There's a ledge out front, maybe twenty feet across.  I didn't get too close, but it looked ta me like one big room, with a wide entrance.  Didn't see nobody moving around either.”

“Ah, so getting up there is going to be an issue?” Khalid suggested.

“Yup, that's pretty much it.  We all gotta get up there real fast, before this guy figures out what's going on.”

“Nothing we haven't done before,” Shayla noted.

“Ya, but it takes a lot outta me, and we got one more this time.” Gorak jerked his thumb at the goblin.

“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.  “I have something that will certainly, yes, certainly help.  A new formula that I believe is ready.”

Gorak frowned and was about to say something when Shayla spoke up. “Well, is it ready or not?” she asked impatiently.

“Ah, well, under these conditions, testing it has been, ah, difficult,” Khalid stammered defensively, “and yes, I'd hoped to improve upon the duration somewhat.  It's really quite limited.”  He sighed regretfully.

“And what's it do?” Gorak grunted.

“Grants a measure, yes, a measure of flight, directed by will alone.  It's fast, but as I said, last only a few minutes.  Yes, quite.”

“Can you take care of yerself and Shayla wit that?” Gorak asked.  When Khalid nodded, Gorak continued, “Good, then I'll take care of me and the goblin.”  He turned to look at the little goblin, who was studiously examining his sword blade for flaws.  “Since those two are gonna be buzzing around, yer only job is to keep whatever comes outta that cave off me for as long as possible.”

“Ah, yes, I'd suggest staying clear, yes, clear of the cave.  It's going to be very, ah, unpleasant in there.”  Khalid said with a smirk.

Since there was really no need to discuss Shayla's role, they hurriedly finished packing up their belongings, and dropped out of the magical shelter into the early morning sunlight.  As they headed towards the cave, Khalid walked beside Shayla, instructing her on the use of the spell. “Ah, you will have near flawless control of your movement, and orientation does not matter so much.  However, stabilizing yourself can be a challenge.” He paused for a second as Gorak waved them back and scouted the path ahead.  Watching Gorak vanish around a bend, he continued in a low whisper, “Unfortunately, along with the limited duration of only, ah few minutes, the spell exerts a constant force.”  When Shayla raised an eyebrow, he explained, “Ah, that means that the weight of the earth will hold you back, when you try to gain, yes, gain altitude.  If you are descending however, you will pick up speed quickly.”

“How will I know when it's gonna run out?  It's not just going to drop me is it?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, no, as the spell unravels the force will dissipate slowly.  It permits you some time to reach the ground, but not more than a few seconds.  If you concentrate, yes, concentrate on the magic, like we practiced, you will gain a feel for the strength of the weave, and the time until it fails.”

Gorak returned and crouched down on his haunches, sketching out the path in the snow.  “We're close now,” he growled.  “Real close.  I'm gonna get our little friend here ready, then go take a look, see if they've caught a whiff of us yet.  Gimme a minute or so, then if nothings wrong, kit up and join me up front.”

“What's the signal if something's wrong?” Shayla asked.

“If'n you see me come running down this path, you probably wanna follow, otherwise, I'll see ya up there.”  He spat out a litany of enchantments, fortifying himself and the goblin.  His spellcasting complete, Gorak tipped over Sousee's wicker basket, then closed his eyes and concentrated.  Slowly his arms and legs melded into his torso and his black skin took on a scaly, emerald sheen.  His features melted away as his nose lengthened.  Dropping into a thick coil, Gorak slithered away down the path with Sousee following closely behind him.

Khalid counted to one hundred and, hearing nothing from down the path, began to cast spells in rapid succession.  The goblin hurried down the path, with Shayla following close behind.  Khalid finished his spell and felt a peculiar tension around his body as his feet slowly lifted off the ground.  Skimming low over the path, he quickly passed Shayla and the goblin and joined Gorak.

Gorak and Sousee darted out into the clearing as Khalid surveyed the area.  The path, up until this point, had been nothing more than a thin fracture in the mountain.  Here, it widened out into a huge basin, more than fifty feet across.  Directly opposite where they were standing was the ledge and just above it, Khalid could barely see the opening to the cave.  The goblin rushed past him, moving quickly to cross the open ground.  Khalid held Shayla back for a second, not wanting to reach the cliff before Gorak and the goblin.  When he judged them close enough, he shot out of hiding, flying parallel to the ground, only inches from the surface with Shayla close on his heels.  They all reached the ledge at the same time, and hesitated for a split second, listening for any sound of alarm from above.

Hearing nothing, Khalid willed himself to rise up off the ground while the goblin placed his hands on the rock and began to climb effortlessly up the side.  Gorak and Sousee  rose up out of the snow and found crevices in the ice, their thick muscles propelling them easily up the cliff.

Khalid reached the top first and saw instantly the that layout of the cave was perfect for what he had in mind.  The angle of the sun made the interior of the cave hard to see clearly, but through the gloom he could barely make out two shadowy forms at the back of the cavern.  Without exposing more than his head over the edge of the plateau, Khalid launched into a spell, opening a portal as far back as he could see.  Instantly, noxious fumes poured out of the magical gate, filling the cave and spilling out onto the plateau.  The area was concealed by the rust coloured smoke but Khalid could hear the sound of violent retching from within.

Gorak slid over the lip of the plateau and shimmered back into his own form as the goblin clambered up and moved into position in front of him.  When Gorak began to cast, Sousee slithered around his feet and away from the goblin.

Khalid turned to tell Shayla that the coast was clear but the words caught in his throat as a huge monstrosity materialized out of the smoke.  The terrible abomination offended Khalid in an almost spiritual way.  It was composed of various body parts, nailed, bolted and stitched together in a hideous parody of life.  Its torso appeared to be mostly hill giant, mounted on the squat, powerful legs of an ogre.  Dozens of patches of stark white goblin flesh had been stitched across vulnerable joints and gear work, giving the creature a scabrous, diseased appearance.  A huge fur-covered arm from a yeti, with thick steel spikes driven into the fingers in place of claws, dragged along the ground as the beast lurched towards them with surprising speed.  The thing's left hand, human but grossly elongated somehow, lashed out like a whip and wrapped around the goblin's hastily raised shield.  Dragging it aside easily, the yeti arm swept around, driving the steel hooks through the goblin's metal helm and deep into his skull.  The reptilian head, swiveling atop the massive torso searching for more prey to feed its mindless rage, would have been almost comical if not for the expression of hideous agony etched upon its features.  Shaking aside the body, the creature's milk white eyes turned to focus on Gorak.

Shayla, needing no encouragement from Khalid to make an entrance, flew up and away from the ledge.  The mountain wind whipped her auburn curls about wildly but it had no effect on her aim as she hovered over the ledge and called on the fury of her magic.  She smiled slightly as the jet of searing flame streaked out, striking the creature dead center in chest.  The smile faded as the flames washed over the abomination without even singeing the dead goblin flesh.  “It didn't do anything,” Shayla cried.  “I don't think I can hurt it”

“Ah, no wait!” Khalid yelled.  Although it appeared unhurt, the thing began to shake and shudder violently while jets of steam burst out from vents along its spine.  “I think it's overheating!”

Gorak, ignoring the monstrosity standing only a few feet away from him, finished his spell and summoned a huge wolf, three times the size of a goblin worg, behind the construct.  Even before it fully coalesced, it lunged forward and sank its huge jaws into the abominations hip.   There was a protesting squeal of metal and the crunch of bone as the wolf bit deep and sparks flew from the ground as the metal spikes on the creature's feet scrabbled against the icy surface. Shaking its powerful neck and shoulders viciously, the wolf swept the feet out from under the golem and sent it crashing to the ground.

Khalid, uncertain as to which of his spells  would affect the magical beast, hesitated while Gorak launched into another spell.  Sousee lashed out, biting ineffectually at the creature's head while Shayla began casting again, this time chanting furiously and for far longer than Khalid had ever seen.  At the culmination of her spell, a thick stream of viscous acid sprayed out from her fingers, soaking the downed creature but like the flame, had no visible effect.

The abomination, flailing and struggling while steam continued to jet from its body, tried to get to its feet, but once again the wolf darted in and knocked it over.  As the wolf pulled away, it tore free a huge strip of flesh from the beast's chest, exposing metal ribs beneath.

Gorak, finishing his spell, raised his hands into the air and called down a bolt of lightening, striking the creature full on.  Sparks danced around the exposed bolts and wiring, and steam stopped jetting out of the thing's back.  It's motions became more fluid and less hectic, but it still wasn't able to dodge away from the dire wolf's fearsome attack.

Shayla and Khalid, having no options, waited for the chance to do something.  The creature, moving again with unnatural grace, curled its feet underneath it, and leapt up and away from the wolf's gnashing teeth.  Landing upright, the huge yeti arm swung in a wide arc, flaying the skin from the dire wolf and sending it tumbling away.

“Don't hit it with lightning again!” Khalid cried out.

“Don't worry about that,” Gorak roared as he ducked out of the way of the golem's arm.

“Shayla! Hit it with fire again! Overheat it!”

Shayla started casting and once more bathed the golem with fire, causing steam and smoke to shoot out of its ruptured joints.  The wolf barreled back into the fight and hamstrung the creature, sending it tumbling to the ground once more.  Gorak, taking advantage of the off-balance golem, brought his cudgel crashing down, destroying several of the gears on the human arm.

Abandoning its futile attempts to stand, the golem lashed out at the wolf from the ground. Catching the animal before it could shy away, the powerful blow tore out one of its eyes and shattered several teeth.  Gorak and the wolf continued to take turns punishing the creature.  As the golem raised its hands to fend off Gorak's wicked strike, the wolf dove forward, savaging at the creature's armored stomach.  Digging in its heels, the wolf sunk its teeth deep into the golems flesh, and tore out a huge mawful of gore and copper tubing.  The golem continued to flail, but now its legs seemed to be working against it, twitching and kicking at nothing.

Khalid, still seeing little opportunity to help, was watching the fight anxiously as a cowled figure stumbled out of the noxious smoke.  It was impossible to determine the creature's race or gender, so alien were its twisted features.  Its black robes were stained and filthy, in no small part due to Khalid's spell.  The creature fell to its knees and gasped for air, clutching at its stomach as another spasm wracked its body.  Uncertain of how long the wizard would be incapacitated, Khalid cast another spell and coated the retching mage in a shroud of glittering yellow dust.

 Gorak easily ducked under the golem's last feeble effort and pinned its human arm to the ground, beneath his foot.  Drawing back his cudgel, he brought it down with a sharp crack, crushing the golem's skull as the wolf leapt in one final time and tore one of the thing's legs completely off.  An instant later the wolf vanished, and the twisted leg clattering to the rock.  With a terrible squeal of metal on metal and one final shudder, the golem collapsed, sending a wave of steaming fluid washing over the plateau.

Gorak quickly checked the downed the goblin but stood up again without casting a spell.  Shayla and Khalid landed on the ledge, on either side of the incapacitated wizard, waiting for Gorak to join them.  He stepped up between them, his cudgel held low at his waist.  Looking at Khalid and then Shayla, he grunted, “Well, this is what we came here for.” He leaned down close the the wizard, who was crawling away on his hands and knees.  “Maybe next time, if yer nicer, this sort of thing won't happen.” he growled as he brought his cudgel down across the back of the creatures neck, driving it to the ground.  Gorak struck out again, for good measure, rendering the wizard unconscious but not killing it outright.

“Ah, maybe there is no need,” Khalid started to say when a voice that was not his own echoed in his mind.

_Please...finish him...quickly_

“Ah, what?” Khalid blurted aloud, startled.  He realized that both Gorak and Shayla were looking at him oddly.

_Hurry...do not...let him back into my...head_ 

Waves of loathing and terror washed over Khalid.  Shame and hate almost overwhelmed him, as memories that were not his own triggered primal emotions.  With a gasp, Khalid jerked a knife from its sheath on his belt, and plunged it into the wizard's crumpled form.

“Uh,” Gorak grunted as stared hard at Khalid.  “Right, why don't you just take care of that then.”

“Not me,” Khalid said as he stood up somewhat unsteadily.  “The voice, yes, voice told me to do that.”

“Um, maybe you shouldn't be listening to the voices in your head any more Khalid,” Shayla said carefully.

Regaining some of his self control, Khalid frowned and replied.  “Ah, no, I'm not crazy.  It was him, yes, him.”  He pointed into the gloom of the cave.  With the portal closed there was nothing to sustain the foul smoke and the last of the mist was blowing away on the wind.  Barely visible at the back of the cave was a damaged and bloody figure, bound tightly to a wooden rack.

Gorak moved swiftly to the bound figure and began to cut him free.  Muttering a spell under his breath, he placed a powerful hand on the man's chest and pressed him down upon the table as his most potent healing magic coursed through his body.

The man thrashed at Gorak's touch, but was too weak to push him away.  As the wounds began to close, sense returned to his eyes and he calmed down.  When Gorak moved his hand away, the man sat up on the table, and slid off the edge gingerly, slowly testing his weight on unsteady legs.

Khalid opened a portal with a word and a gesture and they helped weary prisoner up into the safety of the magical dimension.  He accepted only a mouthful of water before falling into a deep sleep.  Although Khalid feared he would not live the night, his breathing seemed steady and deep.  Late that night, when they were forced to wake him and depart the collapsing dimension, he seemed much more alert and healthy.  Gorak took the opportunity to cast a few more healing spells before the man again dropped into a heavy slumber in the safety of the magical shelter.

They took turns watching over him as he slept well into the afternoon of the following day.  He woke on his own, long enough for Khalid to reinforce the magical portal and wolf down a substantial amount of food.  On the second day, he awoke, seemingly completely mended both physically and mentally from his torment.  He was oblivious to the trio's curious stares as he ate in silence, finally sighing heavily and tossing half of hard unleavened biscuit back into rations bag.

“My apologies, my new friends, for my lack of composure until now.  Suffering under such wretched enslavement had greatly weakened me, as you can imagine.  I am eternally greatful for your courage and heroism in rescuing me from that demon and I owe you a great debt. Your will is my command.”

Khalid frowned at that curious phrase and was suddenly struck by how this man reminded him of Jalaal, only...more so.  Healed of his wounds by Gorak's magic, his body was fit and strong, tanned a dark metallic bronze.  He wore little in the way of clothing, but seemed bothered little by cold.  His smile was quick and broad, and his teeth even and flashed brighter than the icy snow.  Gold hoops and rings adorned both ears, and his earlobes had been stretched out, pulled down by gleaming golden weights.  Even after all he had been through, his delicately oiled mustache was perfectly smooth, with not a hair out of place.

“Ya,” Gorak grunted, “we'll you'll get a chance ta work off that debt right soon, don't worry.  You're going to show us through these mountains.”

“Of course,” the man said quickly.  “Whatever you wish.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid interjected carefully, motioning Gorak back.  “Time enough to discuss that later.  Tell us, yes, tell us my friend, what is your name?”

“Ruwayd of the Seven Hills tribe, from the great northern oasis, at your service.”  He said, with a low bow over his hands and a flash of his brilliant smile.

“Ah, yes,” Khalid nodded, then narrowed his eyes shrewdly.  “And so there are no misunderstandings, what, exactly are you?”

The smile didn't waver as the man bowed low again.  “Janni my friend, the Seven Hills tribe are janni.”

“Yes, quite, that would explain it.”

“What's all this about?”  Shayla asked curiously.

“He is a wind walker.” Khalid said slowly, as the Janni Ruwayd nodded.  “The spirit of air rushes through his blood.  His people are not from this world, but well suited to it.”  Receiving only a blank stare from Shayla, he sighed.  “He is, kin to the creatures of fabled desert lore, the djinn and the efreet.  Genie.”

“So you grant wishes?” Shayla asked pointedly.

The man laughed uproariously at the suggestion, “No, my lady, unless it is your wish to always be bathed within the light of my smile.”

“Charmer, this one,” Shayla said with a toss of her curls.  “Well, that tells me everything I need to know.  Are we about ready to move on?”

“Ah, we should perhaps attend to his friend,” Khalid said, delicately.

“Friend,” Ruwayd asked, with a confused look.

“Yes, in truth we did not rescue you of our own accord, we were led here, yes, led here by another.  A goblin.”

“How remarkable.  And since he is not here among us, I assume he has paid for my freedom with his life?”

“Yes, quite.”

“Another debt to repay,” the Janni half-whispered.  Then he spoke aloud, “I would see to my friend's rest, before we set upon our journey.”

“Whatever,” Gorak grunted.  “I guess he deserves that much.  He weren't half bad, fer a goblin.”

They gathered up their belongings and prepared the goblin's tomb.  To his surprise, Ruwayd suggested that they build a small cairn within the wizard's cave.  “All things will avoid this place for many years to come, I think,” he pointed out.  “He should enjoy his rest undisturbed.”

Khalid took the opportunity to filch a few choice tomes from the wizard's library, while the janni bowed his head and whispered a few words in a floating, airy language.  The goblin properly interred.  They set out down the path, with the Janni leading the way.

They hadn't gone very far, when the Janni turned and called back over his shoulders.  “What I say now, is not an attempt to relieve myself of my obligation to you, but I think you should know that the way ahead is quite difficult.” 

“Don't worry about that,” Gorak grunted.  “We got ways to take care of all that.”

“I had assumed as much, since you have made it this far and bested that fiend on your own merit.  I just thought I should prepare you for the journey.”

As they traveled along, Khalid wracked his mind for anything he could recall about Janni.  He knew they were possessed of several extraordinary powers by virtue of their heritage, but he could remember little of the specifics.  He did know that they tended to be tribal and fiercely loyal to their friends, which did much to set Khalid at ease around him.  Watching the Janni carefully confirmed one of his suspicions however.  Like Gorak, the Janni appeared to walk normally, but his feet barely disturbed the snow on the path.

They spent several torturous days climbing over frozen bridges of ice between two peaks and then struggled further up the side of another mountain.  By the morning of the forth day, the had reached a small plateau and were faced with a short climb over a ridge before descending in the the valley below.  Ruwayd, seemingly never wearied by the climb, motioned for them to rest while he easily scaled the rock face.

He disappeared from sight briefly and then leaned over the edge.  “I had feared as much.  You had best join me up here, quickly.”

They scrambled to their feet and climbed up the cliff to join Ruwayd on a broad ledge.  The view before them was breathtaking, as the mountain fell away into a deep valley, covered with thick pine trees and buried in snow.  As Khalid took in the scenic panorama, the Janni whispered, “You said that you had methods to deal with the dangerous parts?”  When Gorak grunted, the Janni continued.  “Then prepare yourselves, for this is one of those places.”  He pointed across the valley, mid-way up the side of a mountain.  At first, Khalid could see nothing.  Then a distant shriek, unlike anything Khalid had heard before, split through the air.  

“Impossible,” he gasped.  From a small perch on the cliff face, a beast leapt away from the rock and spread its wings.  Sunlight glittered off of the bluish green scales as the beast quickly gained altitude.  With another shriek, the dragon rolled over in the air and plunged down into the forest below.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Well worth the wait EN. But now, of course, I just want more.


----------



## EternalNewbie

“Ah, so, what exactly am I looking at?” Khalid asked.

Ruwayd pointed across the valley.  “There are griffon aeries scattered across the peaks to the east.  From here, the way across the mountains is safest, deep underground.  The entrance to the cavern we seek is on the other side of the valley.” Ruwayd replied, pointing.  “There.”

Khalid sighted down his arm and could barely make out a dark smudge against the base of the cliff, three or four hundred feet south of the dragon's nest.  A drift of snow almost completely obscured the narrow crevice, indicating the path had not been used in the recent past.

They slid down back from their perch looking into the valley, and huddled close to discuss their options.

“So, what's the plan?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, the usual?” Khalid offered.

“Run like hell?” Gorak grunted. “I'm good with that.  With a little luck, we'll be right across that valley and into the cave before that thing even knows we're there.”

Khalid was about to comment on the quality of their luck recently, but with a careful look at the Gorak's expression, decided better of it.  They sat down and began to sketch out the details of their plan.  After having been in numerous harrowing situations together, it took little time for the three to incorporate Ruwayd into their tactics.  Khalid and Shayla, buoyed by Khalid's magic, would fly across the valley led by Ruwayd, whose inhuman heritage allowed him to walk about the wind as though it was firm ground.  Gorak, unable to fight effectively in his altered form but possessing speed and agility in the air, would scout above and ahead and watch their descent into the valley before following them underground.

Taking refuge within Khalid's magic, they spent a few days trying to study the habits of the dragon, to little avail.  On the second night, Gorak joined them in the portal, with a frustrated curse.  “Useless,” he grunted.  “I can't tell when it sleeps, if'n it sleeps at all.  Maybe the damn thing has another entrance to that cave, someplace outta sight.  If I had more time,” he shrugged.  “So as far as I'm concerned, going at dawn is just as good as the middle of the night.  At least we'll all be able to see where we're going then.”

Khalid nodded, finding no fault with the plan.  They readied themselves to depart early, and bedded down without watch within the pocket dimension.  In the morning, Gorak shook them awake, and they began to prepare for the mad sprint across the valley.  Closing his spellbook with a determined snap, Khalid stood up and wasted no time in rhyming off a litany of spells, while Gorak closed his eyes and willed himself into the form of a fierce looking eagle. 	With Gorak perched on his shoulder, and the rest of them hovering slightly, Khalid took a deep breath, and collapsed the walls of the magical dimension.  It took only a second for Khalid to get oriented, as Gorak launched himself into the air.  Robes fluttering in the frigid wind, Khalid willed himself after Ruwayd, who had already begun to descend into the valley.  With a worried glance at the cloudy sky, Shayla trailed a few seconds behind.

They were half way across valley and Khalid had just allowed to himself hope that they would make it across unscathed, when the dragon hurtled down through the clouds, right on top of them.  As it dropped directly down in front of Ruwayd, the beast flared out its massive wings almost instantly slowing and opened its maw wide.  Khalid, stunned by the dragon's appearance, couldn't manage to change direction in time.  With an awful hiss, the dragon exhaled a caustic green mist that enveloped Ruwayd and Khalid.  As the gas seared his eyes and lungs, he felt a numbing cold sink deep into his bones, unabated by his magical protection.  Unable to even scream, Khalid's control faltered, which probably saved his life.  Falling out of the fog, into the clean, cool mountain air, Khalid gasped for breath as his tortured lungs burned.  Through tearing eyes, he saw Ruwayd roll out of the mist, clutching at his throat, coated in frost.

The dragon tucked its wings in and continued its dive, dropping far below them and skimming across the treetops, before climbing once more into the sky.  Gorak shrieked in helpless rage, as he dove, incredibly, to the lip of the dragon's lair and shimmered back into his own form.

“Khalid, damn you,” Shayla cursed as she raced past.  “Don't just hover there!  Move!”

Ruwayd summoned his inhuman fortitude and shook off the effects of the dragon's breath incredibly quickly.  Reversing himself instantly in mid-air, he shot past Khalid and Shayla.  He drew his scimitar out of his belt and held it out like a lance, as he charged straight at the dragon, seeking to intercept it.

“Get over here, we've got to force it to land!” Gorak roared from his perch, before launching into a spell.  The clouds overhead churned and darkened, but in the blinding after image burned into his aching eyes, Khalid saw the lightening bolt flow around the beast like water.  Unfazed, it surged toward Ruwayd, with thrusts of its powerful wings. The distance between them vanished in an instant.  Ruwayd rolled onto his back and tried to drop beneath the creature, aiming for the it's vitals.  But dragon was a cunning hunter and with devious intelligence, anticipated the move and rolled onto it's back as well, offering him nothing but armored scales.  As they passed, the beast flicked out its wickedly barbed tail, smashing into Ruwayd and sending him cartwheeling through the air, dazed and bloodied.

Khalid willed himself towards Gorak, as he realized the dragon wasn't turning and would be on top of them in mere seconds.  With dismay, he realized there was little chance he could outrun the dragon and then, with horror, realized Shayla was slowing down. 	She turned to face the dragon and Khalid saw a familiar look in her flashing green eyes.  She wasn't going to get caught running. 

The dragon, perceiving Ruwayd as the greatest threat, presumably from his size, rushed heedlessly at them and made a mistake made by dozens of other unfortunate men and beasts alike.  It got far too close to Shayla.

In her lyrical voice, Shayla rhymed off the words to a spell.  The dragon let out an earsplitting roar and banked sharply away as a lance of fire seared the flesh from its skull.  Smoking and shrieking, the creature turned as sharply as it could, and tried to climb above them.

Khalid, not wanting to be anywhere near Shayla if the dragon decided to breath again, shrieked out a spell and spun one hundred and eighty degrees in the air.  Sailing backwards through the air, he tossed a cloud of golden dust in front of the dragon with little effect; the golden dust just swirled in the creature's wake as it emerged unhindered.

Glancing down, Khalid saw that Ruwayd's unearthly heritage had saved him, as he righted himself only a dozen feet from the face of the cliff.  Shaking his head, he again flew straight at the wounded beast.  The dragon was forced to level off and face him, or risk being attacked from behind.  Ruwayd snaked and twisted in the air, trying to fool the dragon.  As the creature's claws slashed through the air inches beside him, Ruwayd lashed out with his scimitar, biting deep into the flesh between the claws.  The two separated as the dragon surged upwards again, trying desperately to gain more distance from Shayla.

With a wicked grin, Shayla flew after the beast, and unleashed another torrent of fire into its back, blackening the pale green scales.  The dragon shrieked again, but still bent on attack, headed for the clouds above.  Khalid settled on the rock beside Gorak, peering nervously into the darkness as Gorak chanted quickly.  As his hand burst into flame, he drew back his arm to throw, but then cursed as the dragon pulled out of range.

Ruwayd flew up near Shayla, then climbed past to protect her from the dragon's fierce dive.  Shayla, however, continued to chase the dragon as it flew and then pulled up, shrieking out the words to another spell.

With his heart hammering in his ears, Khalid couldn't hear what she was saying.  Running through her repertoire of manifestations in his mind, he couldn't think of any with a range sufficient to hurt the beast now, but Shayla surprised him with her raw power, once again.  The final word left her lips and she pointed at the dragon, engulfing it in a ball of flame as the air, superheated by her magic, caught fire.  Too wounded to even cry out, the dragon ceased climbing and banked hard, diving at the ground.  Shayla, her red hair streaming behind her, pursued and once again, the dragon flew directly into a huge orb of flame to emerge on the other side, charred black, pummetting towards the trees below.  Even high up on the side of the mountain, Khalid could hear branches breaking and saw the tops of several large trees disappear, as the dragon crashed to the earth.

With a triumphant grin, Shayla landed on the cliff beside them, followed by Ruwayd.  Eyes flashing, she was about to hug Khalid when she caught a with of his pungent, smoking clothing and grabbed Gorak instead.  Looking over his shoulder, her smile grew even wider.  “Hey, what are those?”  

Gorak put her down, and turned around.  “Oh, right,” he grunted.  “Those.  Eggs.”

“No, not those,” Shayla said, “those things sparkling in the snow up there.  Are those diamonds?”  She walked around the room cautiously, ignoring the eggs.

Stepping into the darkness with Ruwayd, Khalid was hit with the full enormity of what they had done, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.  In a small pile in the center of the cavern were four eggs, each about the size of a head of cabbage.  Three of them were dark, greenish blue, but the one on top had a dull metallic, almost golden sheen to it.  Tears filled his eyes as he considered the fate they had bestowed on the unborn dragons.  Looking up, he saw the normally stoic Ruwayd looking despondent.  “What have we done,” Khalid half-whispered to himself.

“What's that?” Gorak grumbled.  “Hey, forget about those things.  I think Shayla was right, I think these things are diamonds.”

“Gorak,” Shayla scolded from up on a ledge in the broad cavern.  “Bite your tongue.  Gather up those eggs and be careful with them.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.  “That's exactly what I was thinking.”

“Sure, we can have omlettes tomorrow,” she suggested, poking her head out over the edge.

Khalid stopped and glared up at Shayla.  “Absolutely not.”

“Wonder what they taste like,” Gorak mused.

“We are not eating these things.  Yes, quite.” Khalid repeated indignantly. Ruwayd nodded his head in agreement.

“What?  Why not?” Gorak grunted in surprise.

“Ah, yes, perhaps because dragons are almost, yes, almost extinct as far as I know.” Khalid retorted, his voice rising.

“I fail ta see what part of that ain't a good thing fer us,” Gorak growled.

“The loss of these eggs is tragic, yes, tragic,” Khalid insisted.

“Fine,” Gorak grunted, relenting.  “Whatever.  I'ma gonna go check out where that thing landed.  Make sure it ain't still thrashing around out there.”  He stepped off the edge of the cliff and vanished from sight.

“Wait, does this mean omelettes are off the menu?”  Shayla asked, before retreating under Khalid's furious gaze.

Gorak returned a few hours later, carrying something in his talons.  As he shimmered back into his own form, Khalid realized with disgust that it was the dragon's heart.  Shayla looked up from where she was stacking gemstones into neat little piles on the floor.   “Eeew,” she cringed as she looked at the bluish white lump in his hand.

“You gotta try this,” he grunted.

“What?” Shayla asked incredulously, her eyes wide.  “Are you serious?”  She looked at him closely.  “You are serious, aren't you?”

“The only word I can use to describe it,” Gorak rumbled, “is exhilarating. I ain't fooling around.”

“Ah, Gorak, how did you know it wasn't poison, yes, quite?”  Khalid asked as the blood drained from his face.  “That thing breathed toxic, yes, toxic gas on me.”

“Well it ain't, is it?” he grunted in reply.  “And I don't care if you do or you don't, but I'm telling you, it ain't like nothing you've ever had before.  And you ain't never gonna get another chance.”

Her disgust turning to curiosity, Shayla stood up and approached him, as he held out her hand.  Leaning forward, she sniffed at the heart, then closed her eyes and took a small bite.  Rocking back on her heels, she opened her eyes in surprise.  “I see what you mean,” she said.  “Khalid, you've got to try that.”

Gingerly approaching Gorak, Khalid felt himself succumb to the old pressures, and give in.  Khalid, like Shayla, closed his eyes as he took a small bite.  It melted almost instantly in his mouth, like packed snow, sending a shivering surge through his body.  His heart began to hammer in his chest and for a brief instant, Khalid had never felt more alive.  As the tingling faded, he looked down at the eggs with some guilt, even as a feeling of power still coursed through his veins.

Ruwayd joined them in the primitive ritual, before Gorak cast the heart far out into the valley.  As they sat around a shielded fire, in the relative safety of the dragon's lair they discussed their next move.

“I wanna go skin that dragon,” Gorak growled immediately.  “We should camp down there for a few days, then move into the tunnel under the mountains.”

“Ah, camp down there?” Khalid asked hesitantly.  “I agree that we could use a break, but up here would be much, yes, much safer.  There is nothing foolish enough, save us, yes, us, who would brave a dragon's lair.”

“Well, one way or another, I'ma gonna skin that dragon.  You have any idea how valuable that stuff is?” Gorak growled.

“Who knows what else lives down there?  Yes, quite.” Khalid argued.  Seeing Gorak shift slightly and look away he pressed.  “Ah, yes, Gorak, is there something else down there?”

“Maybe,” he grunted.  “I thought maybe I saw something, moving around in the trees while I was near the dragon.  But I'm not sure.  Maybe it was just my nerves, you know, all jacked up after a fight.”

“Well, I'm not going down there.  Yes, quite.”  Ruwayd nodded as Khalid spoke.

“Shayla'll come then, right?” Gorak growled, looking hopefully at Shayla.  “Keep a lookout while I work.”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” she replied, glancing at Khalid.

“And how, yes, how is she going to get down there?” Khalid asked smugly.

“You can cast that spell on her,” Gorak growled, his temper quickly rising.

“Ah, certainly.  But how, yes, how will she return.  You cannot carry her, and the magic lasts mere minutes.”

With Gorak getting madder by the second, Shayla intervened.  “Khalid can cast that spell on me, and I can at least check on you every so often.  And maybe Ruwayd too?” she asked, with a coy look on her face.

“Perhaps, but the forest below is a dark and dangerous place, you really should remain here.” he advised.  “While I would relish a few more days beneath the open sky before plunging under the earth, you will forgive me if I'm not eager to hurl myself into any more peril than is warranted.”

“Sure, whatever,” Gorak growled, still glaring at Khalid.  “Shouldn't take me more than a few days to take care of it.  And there's probably nothing in that forest anyhow.”

Shielded from the cold by Gorak's magic, Khalid, Ruwayd and Gorak decided to sleep in the open air within the cave and forgo the confines of pocket dimension.  Delighted with the privacy, Shayla made Khalid cast the spell regardless, and vanished inside.

When Khalid awoke the next morning, Gorak was already gone.  He passed most of the day chatting with Ruwayd, and exploring the cave.  At the back, they found a passage that was navigable, as far as they dared to venture within.  

Ruwayd seemed unsurprised by their discovery.  “I suspected this might be here.  The tunnel we seek branches below, with one path climbing high into the heart of the mountain.  I believe this is where it exits.  Having never fully explored it however, and with the dragon here, I didn't think it worth mentioning.”  

Somewhat less secure than before, Khalid shook aside his doubts, comforted in the knowledge that few things would dare enter a dragon's den.  He returned to the main cave with Ruwayd, and their discussion turned to the eggs.   Shayla checked on Gorak throughout the day, but reported no signs of trouble.  In the evening, Gorak returned and joined them by the fire.  “I got another day, two at the most, and then we can get outta here.  I'll clean up the scales as best I can, wrap em up and stuff in the magic sack.  We might have to move some stuff around.  And there are definitely things down there in the valley.  I caught a coupla glances of em, watching me from the trees.”

“What were they?” Shayla asked quickly.

“Dunno.  Never got a real good look at 'em.  Humanoid, swaddled up in robes, which suggests they're more than just animals.  I may try tracking one of 'em down tomorrow.  Who knows, maybe they'll be able to show us a safer way through the mountains.”

“Ah, yes, and maybe they'll show you why they live in the valley with the dragon, yes, quite.  Maybe they worship the thing.  Have you considered, yes, considered that?” Khalid asked.

“Well we sure won't know until we at least try to talk to them,” Gorak growled.  “And besides, another two days, and we're out of here.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid muttered.  “That will, of course, kill the eggs.”

“Yeah, well, no help for that really.” Gorak growled.  “I still say you take one of 'em wit you.  You could write a book or something, about it.”  

“Ah, yes, a book you say.” Khalid half-whispered as his eyes widened.  “I'd famous, yes, famous.  Who else has done such a thing, in recent history?”

“That's the spirit,” Gorak grunted.

“Yes, quite,” Khalid muttered.  “But it will only be truly great, if the dragons survive.  I must keep these eggs alive at all, yes, all costs.”

“Right,” Gorak grunted, giving Khalid a long, careful look before going over to talk to Shayla.  Khalid pulled out his spellbook and began to make notes, estimating the weight and dimensions as best he could.  He even went so far as to try and sketch them, before realizing that was probably a better use for his spellbook then filling it with black ovals.

In the morning, Gorak sealed the opening at the rear of the cavern.  After muttering a few words, he knelt down on the stone floor, raised his hands above his head and plunged them down, straight into the stone.    At his touch, the floor became as malleable as clay, and he quickly covered the passage with a thick layer of rock.  That finished, Gorak descended down into the valley without speaking to Khalid.

Despite how foolish he thought Gorak was being, Khalid wasn't sorry to see him gone for a while.  Now that he, and his foul temper, were out of the way, Khalid could study and tend to the eggs in peace, with Ruwayd's help.  Shayla mostly ignored the two of them, having little interest, beside culinary, in the eggs.  It was becoming apparent to Khalid that the time was beginning to wear upon her.  She'd grown bored of sorting and counting the piles of gems that littered the floor of the cavern, and sat in sullen silence until she felt it was time to badger him into granting her flight and setting her free from the cave.

Her mood changed abruptly when Gorak returned that evening, a deeper scowl than usual twisting his face.  He threw down a pile of dragon scales and picked up the enchanted rucksack, slowly conjuring out all of its contents, one at a time.  He carefully pushed the edge of the scales into the magical bag, which expanded to accommodate it.

“Ah, yes, so I take it you're done down there?” Khalid asked.

“I think it's about time we got ourselves outta here,” Gorak growled.

“Right now?” Shayla asked, sitting up from the stalagmite she'd been reclining on.  “It's a bit late to get started now, don't ya think?”  She looked over his shoulder pointedly, at the rapidly darkening sky.

“We're heading inta a cave.  What difference does that make?” He grunted, slowly stuffing their belongings back into the haversack.

“Ah, yes, well, still.” Khalid protested. “It's late, and I've been up all day.  It will take time, yes, time to pack up my belongings.  Why not depart in the morning, yes, quite.”

Frustrated, Gorak finally blurted out, “Alright, look.  I finally got a hold of one of those little buggers down in the valley.  One of 'em even spoke a little bit of orc.  I guess they do some trading with some of the mountain tribes around these parts.”  Seeing  Shayla's mounting impatience, he returned to his point.  “Look, those little buggers are terrified of something that lives in this valley, or at least passes through it on a regular basis.”

“Ah, the dragon?”  Khalid asked, sensing where Gorak was leading.

“No,” he growled.  “Not the damn dragon.  They could see me hacking that thing up.  There's something else that's got them trembling in their little grey robes.”

“What then?” Shayla asked.

“I dunno,” Gorak snarled.  “They were evasive little bastards, and they had me at about a twenty to one disadvantage at the time, so I didn't have a chance to ask proper.”  He took a deep breath and gave Shayla direct look, “Anyhow, I think it's damn well time we got out of this cave.”

Shayla glanced at Khalid and he guessed she was looking for his support to get out of a midnight march.  Not particularly relishing the idea himself, he spoke up.  “Ah, even so, we've seen no evidence, yes, evidence of any beasts around, have we?”  He looked at Gorak.

“Well I haven't exactly been looking,” he grunted sourly.

“Still, it stands to reason that whatever they are referring to, it cannot fly.  Yes, quite.  I would think that few things would compete with the dragon in the air, and that it would not stand for rivals.  We should be safe, yes, safe enough up here.”  

Khalid could see the anger building in Gorak as he explained his reasoning.  His hands curled into fists, and his scowl darkened as he sought to refute Khalid's logic.  Then he glanced at Shayla, and seeing no support, exhaled slowly and mastered his emotions.   Fine.” Gorak barked.  “But we're leaving first thing in the morning.”  He stomped off in silenced and stood alone, staring out over the valley.

Khalid grimaced slightly as the mood around the camp receded from overtly hostile and became sullenly unpleasant.  Having little stomach for further conversation, he turned in early but found sleep to be a long time coming.  Thoughts of his research and incomplete book weighed heavily on his mind, as did the fate of the eggs.  Certainly the creatures were dangerous, but beautiful and  majestic, in their own way.  Finally, late into the night, he reached a decision.  Resolved, he fell asleep easily, a contented smile on his face.

He awoke the next morning, feeling refreshed and at ease for the first time in weeks, despite having only slept a few hours.  Gorak and Shayla were already up, sitting on the cave floor packing up the last of their things.  Knowing in his heart that he was doing the right thing, he still approached approached them with some apprehension.

“Get yer stuff together and lets get the hell outta here,” Gorak growled, without looking up.

“Ah, yes, about that,” Khalid replied. “I'm not going.”

“What did you just say?” Gorak asked in a perfectly even tone, without raising his head.  He stopped packing, a pewter mug clenched tightly in his hand.

“Ah, yes, well, I cannot in good conscience abandon these creatures.  There is far too much at stake.  Yes, quite.”

“Just how long are you planning on staying here?” Shayla asked, with a surreptitious glance at Gorak.

“Ah, well, just until the eggs hatch, I suppose, and the dragons become self-sufficient.  No more than a few months, I hope.” Khalid replied.

“But you have no idea, do you?” Gorak accused him angrily, barely able to spit the words out.  “Maybe those things take years to hatch, have you thought about that?  And what are you gonna do about food?”

“Ah, yes, food.  Well I had hoped to persuade you to remain and help, yes, help me.  You would, of course, feature quite prominently, yes, prominently in my book.”

“Not a chance,” Gorak barked.

“Yes, well then,” Khalid continued, undetered, “I believe Ruwayd will remain and, while he does not have your, ah, skills, we will manage.  Yes, quite.”

Ruwayd, looking somewhat dubious, nodded his head in agreement.  “It is the right thing to do.”  Gorak glared at them both in silent fury and the handle of the mug he was holding bent underneath his thumb.

“What about Arbaq?” Shayla asked.  “He's counting on us to return.”

“Arbaq has no doubt been plotting and scheming, yes, scheming over his little plan for years.  A few more months should not inconvenience him too much, given the rather uncertain nature of our endeavour.  In fact the more, yes, more I consider our recent escapades in Gem-Sharad, the more I think a few months hiding deep in the mountains might be the wisest course of action for me.”

“That's it.” Gorak stood up, as the pewter mug crumpled like paper in his hand.  He poked Khalid hard in the chest and growled, “Those damn eggs are messing with yer head somehow.  Just listen to yerself.”

“Ah, the very idea that those helpless eggs could ensnare someone of my intellect is preposterous.  And besides, Ruwayd is in agreement with me on this.  Yes, quite.”

“And yet, here you are, ready to abandon yer friends and stay behind, on the top of this forsaken mountain, without any food for the lost gods only know how long.”

“As I see it, we're the ones being abandoned.” Khalid rejoined.

“Whatever.  We're leaving and there ain't nothing you can say that's gonna change my mind.” Gorak snarled belligerently.

“Shayla?” Khalid implored.

Biting on her lower lip, Shayla looked torn as she glanced from Khalid to Gorak.  Finally, she shook her head slightly and took a step back, to stand beside Gorak.

“Well then,” Gorak growled.  “I guess this is good bye.”  The crushed mug clattered to the cave floor as Gorak lunged forward at Khalid.

Gorak, to his credit, barely betrayed himself, but Khalid had fought beside him through unrivaled peril and had come to know him like a brother.  More importantly, while Gorak may have been a peerless hunter, Khalid had spent most of his formative years learning to recognize when he was about to take a beating.  Skipping backwards, he ducked under Gorak's reaching hands and fled across the cave, fumbling for his spell components.  Chanting hastily, he caused a sunburst of golden dust to implode directly in of Gorak's face.

Gorak roared and clapped his hands over his eyes.  “Shayla, smash the eggs!” he yelled as he staggered blindly after Khalid.

Shayla turned and raised her hands, but Ruwayd quickly stepped in front of her.  “Please, my lady, do not do this thing,” he begged.  They eyed each other warily, neither willing to make the first move.  Ruwayd spread his hands wide to prevent her from rushing by, but left his scimitar tucked in his belt.  Shayla glared at him in frustration as she kept her distance, having the means to reduce him to a sooty smudge on the cave floor, but no way to force the Janni aside.

“Damnit Shayla,” Gorak cursed as he flailed around, “Do something.”

“Ruwayd, subdue her without hurting her, before she damages them!” Khalid countered as he put more distance between himself and Gorak, moving back against the far wall of the cavern.

“I'm sorry, my friend,” Ruwayd said with an apologetic smile as he reached for Shayla.

“Not half as sorry as you're gonna be,” Shayla muttered as she slipped easily away from his grasp.  Casting a spell, she flicked out her hand and sent three shining orbs of force at Ruwayd.  He staggered backwards as they impacted, causing huge red welts appear almost instantly on his bare chest.

Stung by the punishing wounds and coursing with adrenaline, the janni whipped out his sword and slashed at Shayla, scoring a huge bloody gash on her arm as he sought to prevent her from casting again.

Stunned by the sudden violence and foreseeing the situation spinning rapidly out of control, Khalid acted.  Pulling far back against the wall, he muttered a few arcane words and tore open the fabric of space.  A ghastly tear appeared near the front of the cave, a billowing clouds of rust coloured vapors filled the cave, dispersing a dozen feet in front of Khalid.   Ruwayd and Shayla collapsed to the ground, coughing and retching in the foul coloured smoke.  Gorak, still blinded and deathly ill from the noxious vapour continued to stagger forward, then took a few halting steps to the side before stopping to gag.

In horror, Khalid realized what he was trying to do, as Gorak took another blind step towards the centre of the cave and nearer to the eggs.  Khalid was about to step forward and plunge into the mist when a tendril of smoke reached his nose and caused him to recoil back in disgust.

Gorak, now heaving violently, took two more shudder steps to his left and heard an egg crunch under foot.  With a weak gasp, he dropped to his knees and then crashed down on the remaining three, crushing them beneath his vast bulk.

Khalid blinked.

Gorak, Shayla and Ruwayd continued to roll around on the ground, coughing and gasping in the hideous mist, unless the portal closed and the mountain wind swept the tunnel clear.  Rising weakly, Shayla stood up and moved over to Gorak, her red red stark against her deathly pale face.  Gorak stood up, dripping with albumen and yolk, glaring furiously at Khalid.   Ruwayd looking confused, glanced first at his hands, then at the bloody scimitar.  He looked as though he wanted to apologize to Shayla, but her blazing eyes kept him silent.

Khalid looked around sheepishly, and toyed with the idea of feigning amnesia, but discarded that idea when he realized Ruwayd might not play along.  Summoning up every ounce of his long endured humility and eloquence, he said, “Ah, I don't suppose, I could say sorry...”

“Don't you dare say a word to me.  Either of you.” Shayla hissed through clenched teeth, as Gorak channelled his restorative powers on her arm.

“Get your stuff together,” Gorak growled as he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.  “We're getting out of here.  Right now.  No arguments, no discussions.”

Khalid grabbed his spellbook and began to frantically prepare what spells he could, as Gorak and Shayla talked quietly.  Finally, Gorak muttered, “Yeh, it might have stashed some more stuff down that tunnel.  It's worth at least checking out.  If the Janni's right, we won't have ta fly down into the valley.”  He slung Sousee's basket over his shoulder, and kicked Khalid's feet as he walked past.  “Let's go.  We're gonna hit up that back tunnel, see what's back there.” 

Khalid hastily cast a few spells, as he stood up to follow.  Gorak reached the stone door he had fashioned, and put his hands on the crude stone bar holding it shut.   “Get ready,” he growled as he pressed his ear up against the stone door.  Hearing nothing, he removed the bar, then jumped aside as the door fell back towards him, shattering into pieces on the cave floor.  Still holding the improvised club, Gorak turned and sprinted away from the door, as a huge wolf burst into the cave.  

Khalid shook his head in disbelief, as the beast appeared.  It was easily three times the size of the goblin worgs, but unlike those mangy beasts, it had brilliant white fur, the color of fresh snow.  Malevolent blues eyes peered out from under a ruff of grey fur, like frost, that framed the wolf's head.  Even insulated from the elements by magic, Khalid could feel the temperature in the cave plummet, as tendrils of frost thickened and crept across the walls.  With terrifying intelligence, the wolf regarded each of them in turn, before stopping on Gorak.  Still covered in bits of shattered shell and egg, the wolf's lip curled back to reveal ivory white fangs, as its cold sapphire eyes burrowed into Gorak.   Throwing its head back, the wolf let out an bone-chilling howl that reverberating through the cavern.  Just when Khalid thought it couldn't get any worse, the wolf ceased its wail, and the fur along its back began to rise, as it roared out in strangely accented common, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Huzzah!! An update!!

And a really good one too, EN. Thanks.

Since you've left us on a cliffhanger, I hope we won't have to wait seven months for the next instalment!


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## TaranTheWanderer

Heh...This was a funny session.  Forgive me if I vent 

I often chide EN for making Gorak seem more gruff and angry in the story hour than I think I play him, but I think this time he really capture how angry I/Gorak was.

This was at least the second time that Khalid failed a critical Will save (remember the summoning circle?) and we caught on pretty quick that he was charmed but EN is good at arguing his point which made it very frustrating that he wanted to stay in the cave.  To boot, I wanted to make dragon-hide armour because my armour class at this point was 14. (*sigh* I often regret putting my 16 in CHA instead of DEX.)  
Anyways, the fact that he wouldn't help me skin the dragon threw me over the edge.  To make matters worse I failed both saving throws against Khalids spells - I think I only needed to roll a 7 vs the stinking cloud 

In the end I think we were all disappointed to have to smash the eggs...it might have been fun to take one with us and see if we could get it to hatch


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## EternalNewbie

Formulae burned in Khalid's mind, flaring into clarity as options swirled through his head.  Several of his most powerful spells had been expended attempting to subdue Gorak and the rest were either irrelevant or unsuitable for the tight confines of the cave.  Gorak was slightly ahead of him but all four of them were easily within striking distance for the wolf.    Ruwayd's hand rested on the pommel of his scimitar but caught off guard, he hadn't drawn it.  Shayla edged back, trying to get behind him, instantly drawing the wolf's attention.  Its huge head swung around and it bored into her with hate filled eyes.  Khalid clenched his teeth, almost frantic now, as the low growl rumbling deep in the beast's chest became a snarl.  If it went for her first, he couldn't see how they would rescue her before she was torn apart.  If it chose another, there was a chance Shayla's devastating power would destroy it.

The snarl hung heavy in the air and Khalid prepared to defend himself from the flurry of violence that was about to descend.  Abruptly, the wolf turned its gaze past them to stare at the eggs.  The rage flowed out of the great wolf as it assessed its chances of surviving the battle.  It didn't look at them again; it just stepped aside from its position in front of the tunnel.  Khalid could hear the profound sorrow in its voice, when it spoke again.  “You do not even understand the tragedy you have committed here today.  Leave now and never again return to this place.”

They edged past the wolf, slowly and carefully, not willing to risk provoking it.  Khalid was certain the wolf would change its mind at any second, tearing the flesh from his bones, but his fears proved unfounded.  They stepped into the narrow cave and Khalid worked up the courage to look back, before walking into the darkness. Over his shoulder, he saw the great wolf pad softly over to the ruined eggs and drop to its haunches.  His final image of the beast was of it sitting there, head hung low, silently mourning.

It took him some time to put the events of the morning behind him, a task made more difficult by the surprisingly easy and monotonous journey down through the heart of the mountain.  While the path was narrow in spots, the floor of the cave was, for the most part, smooth and the spiraling decline, gentle.  They passed the first day and most of the second, before arriving at a deep fissure in the cave wall, that bisected another passage below.  Squeezing through the cramped opening, they dropped down into the tunnel below.  Glancing in both directions, Ruwayd nodded to himself and motioned for them to follow.  “This way, leads under the mountains.  That way, leads back, out into the valley,” he said in a hushed tone.

The journey continued in much the same way for several more days.   A brief run-in with some over-sized cave spiders was easily handled, due in large part to Gorak's unrivaled instincts.  Thankful as he was for the ease of passage, that very same fact constantly gnawed at Khalid.  There seemed to be no further signs of recent use as far as he could tell which, considering his skills, wasn't very far at all.  Gorak seemed unconcerned, but then again, he looked that way when in life threatening peril sometimes too, so on the whole, Khalid wasn't particularly reassured.  There were enough side passages and fractures in the cave wall to lend weight to his wild imaginings and he hoped dearly that the Janni knew where he was taking them.

At some point on what Khalid guessed was about their sixth day underground, the Janni called a halt.  Gorak cursed mightily and stared out out into the blackness beyond their sheltered light.   Shayla, turned her palm up and uncovered the small glowing stone in her hand, shining it across a huge wall of fallen stone blocking their way.  They all looked up nervously at the ceiling overhead, and backed carefully away from the cave in.  Stepping back a fair distance, they knelt down into a tight huddle, leaning in close.

“Now what?” Shayla whispered, barely more than mouthing the words.

“If you think, yes,” Khalid paused, took a deep breath and spoke directly into the ground. “Think we can risk the sound of my chanting, I will open a place where we can speak, freely, yes, quite.”

“Do it,” Gorak grunted, drawing out the tiny fetish that hung around his neck and placing on hand on the stone floor.

Taking a steadying breath, Khalid unwound the length of soft silk rope wrapped around his waist.  He spoke the words clearly and carefully, not willing to risk ruining the spell for the sake of his nerves.  Practically leaping into the gate as it opened, Khalid helped Shayla and Ruwayd in, before Gorak pushed past him, sealing the entrance.

“Alright, now what” Shayla repeated.  She seemed a trifle paler than usual but then again, Khalid felt a  few shades whiter himself at the moment.  Being underground would never agree with either of them.

“Is this the only way?” Gorak rumbled, looking to Ruwayd.  “We passed another tunnel, bout a day and a half ago, where's it go?”

“Long have these mountains and their inhabitants held a fascination for me, but there are still many places that I can not, or dare not tread.”  Ruwayd replied.  “That tunnel is one of them.  All the legends of this place speak of a place of great evil, festering deep at the roots of these mountains.  It has been suggested that the very presence of this place poisons the very mountains, driving many of those that dwell here to ruin.  Down that tunnel, lies death made manifest.”

“Right,” Gorak grunted, giving the Janni a sour look.  “Death.  Lots of it.  Very helpful, thanks for that.  Or I could just burrow through this rock tomorrow, say about thirty feet that way, and then up along the wall until its safe to crawl out the other side.”

Since there was no real decision to be made, they lounged around in the security of Khalid's magic, passing the time with idle chatter while Gorak gathered his strength.  In the morning, they dropped out of the shelter and crept as close as they dared to the sight of the cave in.  Gorak knelt down, facing the stone wall of the passage.  Taking a slow, deep breath, the words of the spell rumbled out of him, like the sound of grinding stone.  Reaching out, Gorak placed his hand on the stone wall of the passage.  At his touch, it swirled and dissolved, forming a perfectly smooth tube a little over three  feet in diameter.  Tying his pack to his ankle, he climbed in head first, and vanished into the darkness.  

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered, eyeing the small tunnel with trepidation.  “I had hoped it would be a bit, ah, larger, yes, quite.”

“The larger it is, the longer it ain't.  Let's go,” Gorak growled impatiently, his voice echoing oddly in the cramped space.

The Janni shrugged and raised himself into the air, rotated parallel to the ground and floated into the tunnel.  Shayla bit her lower lip, as much from irritation as fear, and finally stepped forward and wriggled into the tunnel after Ruwayd.  Tightening the numerous buckles and straps on his belt, Khalid sighed and crawled into the tunnel, clipping both his head and knee painfully on the edge on his way in.  Focusing on a getting through the ordeal as quickly as possible, he almost immediately bumped into Shayla, who had stopped.

“Ah, what's the matter,” he asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice despite his best efforts.

“Nothing,” Gorak growled, “Just hold up a bit.”

The sound of chanting rolled through the tunnel, and for an instant, the stone beneath Khalid's hands seemed to rippled and flow.   The back wall slowly sealed up behind him, doing little to ease Khalid's mind, even as he recognized the value.  They crawled on their hands and knees for what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been nearly that long.  At one point, Gorak called back,  “We're gonna hafta keep going.  I didn't smooth over a patch here, and there's way too many cracks to make me want to head out there and take a stroll around.”

Khalid tried not to look as he crawled past the rough spot.  What he did see out of the corner of his eye, made his breath quicken.  He immediately fought down the urge, concerned as he was about the amount of air for them in the small enclosure.

Gorak continued to burrow through the mountain, stopping once more to extend the tunnel.  Khalid could barely contain his joy when the tunnel turned sharply and he stumbled out the last few feet onto the rough floor of the main cave.  He'd never have imagined at feeling relief at being in a cave, but given that ordeal, he was grateful for the opportunity to stretch, if nothing else.  Picking up the light and focusing it down the tunnel behind, Khalid couldn't see any sign of debris.  Gorak had led them well past the point of danger but they pushed on and headed further down the tunnel, eager to put the cave in as far behind them as possible.

There was little to distinguish this part of the journey from the path before.  They had been under the mountains for the better part of five days and from what Ruwayd offered, they had at least a few more before reaching the other side.  Only the belief that should they need it, Gorak could carve a hole out of the side of the mountain, kept Khalid functioning clearly.  They moved quickly, trying to shield the light as much as possible, as they passed numerous fissures and caverns branching from the main tunnel.  There was little they could do to hide evidence of their passage and even their best attempts sent echoes up and down the caves.  Nervous as he was, Khalid was still taken by surprise when the native inhabitants discovered them.  The creatures came swarming out of the darkness soundlessly, half running, half loping towards them.  Their skin was the colour of uncooked dough, and hung off their slight frames in folds.  Reptilian tongues slavered and twined around a circular maw of fangs, beneath a smooth expanse of skin.  Khalid's recoiled as he realized the beasts had no visible eyes, and must have hunted them by smell, touch or some other preternatural sense.  Wicked flint axes, chipped and jagged, were clutched in meaty fists, while the beasts used the other to race low along the ground, like the gorillas Khalid had seen in the arenas of Gem-Sharad.

What the creatures had in ferocity, they unfortunately lacked in judgement.  Overcome with lust for the kill, they rushed headlong at Ruwayd, in the lead.  Unaware of the Janni's unique heritage, the two charging beasts in front vanished with a shriek into a wicked pit trap, obviously meant to ensnare their prey.  Ruwayd dipped in the air slightly as the thin sheet of slate, carved to fit perfectly into the stone floor, shattered beneath their weight.  Howls of pain echoed gruesomely off the walls, as the  beasts were impaled on the sharp spikes lining the bottom of the pit.

It only took a second for Shayla to react.  She spun on her heel, facing back down the tunnel and was ready even before another half dozen of the creatures appeared behind them.  The four in the lead vanished in a burst of flame, their bodies almost completely vaporized by the incredible heat.  Scorching smoke washed back over Khalid, burning his eyes as he hastily dug spell components out of a pouch at his waist.  Forcing the irritation out of his thoughts, he started the droning incantation of a summoning spell.

Ruwayd's flashing scimitar kept the other beasts from leaping across the pit and assaulting them from behind.  Weaving and thrusting while he hovered in mid air over the pit, he repeatedly foiled their attempts to reach him.  Enraged, one of the creatures hurled its axe at him, but a deft flick of his blade sent it smashing harmlessly into the cave wall.  Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, another beast leapt across the chasm, only to be intercepted by Gorak.  With a contemptuous shove from the tip of his cudgel, Gorak sent the hapless attacker tumbling backwards to join its companions on the spikes below.

Devastated in the open moments of the attack, the remaining creatures broke and fled, their howls of rage turned to fear at the viciousness of their defeat.  Ensnared within the complex ritual of summoning, Khalid wrenched forth a monstrous spider, laced with fell energies, only to open his eyes and discover the battle was over.   Khalid frowned at the glittering black arachnid, half relieved that the battle was over and half disappointed at the wasted spell.  With the wave of his hand, he sent it scuttling down into the pit, where the feeble cries of their wounded assailants were quickly silenced.  As they steadied their nerves and crossed the simple but flawlessly crafted trap, Khalid hoped that whatever those things were, that they were the dominant creatures in the area.  He was satisfied, at least, that word of their strength, assuming those things had the capability of speech, would dissuade any further attacks.

For a change, his hopes were rewarded and two days later the first whiff of fresh, frigid air reached them.  Even Gorak was invigorated and picked up his pace.  The cave lightened somewhat but to Khalid's disappointment, it was almost dusk when they finally reached the exit.  Even though the deepening darkness shrouded  the terrain below, Khalid felt a sense of significance as he stepped out into the high foothills of the Eastern Kingdom.  Patches of snow still lurked in the long shadows cast by the jumbled rocks and boulders that dotted the rugged hills, and from what Khalid could see, the terrain looked fairly similar to what they had encountered on the other side.  They dropped their gear on the ground and stretched, trying to relax cramped muscles.  Fortified from the cold by Gorak, they relished the open air, gathered around a sheltered fire, nestled in the crags of the barren hills.  Inhospitable as their surroundings were, they enjoyed themselves as though it were one of Arbaq's finest dining halls.   Although in a foreign land, in a wild and untamed region and surrounded by war, the tension of the long hard journey through the mountains fell away easily.  For a change, the conversation didn't focus on how to survive the coming day.   They talked long into the night, sharing those few stories they hadn't already told the Janni and being regaled with tales of Ruwayd's more scandalous adventures.  Before they realized it, the sky began to lighten, and the morning was upon them.  

Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, Khalid was somewhat dismayed at the prospect of crawling into the magical shelter but knew he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.  The Janni, however,  seemed invigorated, and grabbed his meager possessions as the others began tossing gear up through the portal.

“Alas my friends, although my debt will never truly be repaid, please let me take my leave of you now, having fulfilled what I pledged to do.” Ruwayd bowed low at the waist, not looking up as he continued.  “Long years have I been absent from my tribe, with no word.  It is not right that they should grieve for me, any longer than is necessary.”

“No need to be so damn formal,” Gorak grunted.  “You did us one helluva good turn getting us through those mountains, and that bastard holding you up there was overdue for a little spiritual recycling.  So everybody's a winner.”

“Yeah,” Shayla added, “thanks for getting us through the mountains.”  Khalid thought that Shayla sounded maybe a little less than sincere and he suspected that she still held a grudge against the Janni, in particular, for attacking her.  Still, she was making the effort at least.  

“Ah, thank you my friends, I am truly blessed.  Should ever you need my help, seek out Ruwayd of the Seven Hills tribe, and I will place my sword at your service.”

Khalid  reached out, and shook the Janni's hand vigorously.  “Ah, it was a honor to have met you, yes, quite.”  A thought occurred to him.  “Ah, you aren't planned on returning through the tunnels are you?  The path, yes, path is blocked.”

“No, my friend, I do not think that will be necessary,” he replied with a hint of a smirk.

“Ah, but the griffins?” Khalid asked.

“Yes, well the griffins, Khalid, the griffins were never a concern for _me_, exactly.” The sound of his laughter drifted down from above as he shot in the the air, quickly vanishing into the clouds.

Somewhat more sombre, they set off the next morning, having slept almost straight through the previous day.  Horses were useless in the steep and rocky terrain, forcing them to pick their way down carefully on foot.  Khalid's elation at being outside was quickly dampened by a chill sleet that hung in the air like a mist, obscuring their vision, and coating everything with a thin layer of slush.  Gorak's spell could ward off the worst of the cold, but it did nothing for the wet and before long, they were all soaked.  

Gorak took the opportunity to suggest that maybe summoning up a few mountain goats would be helpful to which Khalid responded with a suggestion of a few things Gorak could summon up, and where exactly he could pull them out of.  This set Shayla to laughing, until she remembered that she was still somewhat annoyed at Khalid and three of them dropped into a sullen silence as they trudged down out of the foothills.  Their progress was slow, but for the most part, Gorak kept them on a fairly decent path, clear of any significant obstacles.  Somewhat miserable and focused on the task at hand, Khalid was jerked out of his internal musing as a gravelly voice cut through the gloom.  “I seek the one known as Khalid ibn Bahir!”  The words were heavy and guttural, laced with a strange foreign accent.

“Sh*t!” Gorak growled.  “Dwerro by the sounds of it.”

It took Khalid a moment to recognize the strange inflections.  “Ah, no, that's not a Dwerro” Khalid muttered, his stomach clenching into a tight knot as he guessed at the speaker's native dialect.  “That's something much, yes, much worse.”


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## wolff96

It's alive!  

Good to see a new post -- I was beginning to think Khalid was lost to the sands of time.


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## The Axe

*Woohoo!*

It's been a while since I've been on, but it's surprising how well I remember the characters---nice characterization, and good storytelling on top of it!


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## EternalNewbie

CHAPTER 6: INTO THE EAST​
“What do we do?” Shayla hissed through her teeth, slowly clenching her hands into fists.  Khalid didn't even have to guess at what she had in mind.

“I know yer up there,” the speaker called out again.  “I jes wanna talk.  I don't mean you no harm.”

“Ah, that'd be a first,” Khalid muttered.

Gorak grunted, and stood up from his half crouch.  “Let's go.”

“What?” Shayla whispered incredulously.  “Just walk down there?”

“Look around,” Gorak growled. “You think whoever that is was just hanging around these barren foothills, a hundred miles from anywhere, on the odd chance that Khalid might drop by?  He knew we was coming and if he wanted to pick a fight I don't think he woulda introduced himself first.”

Khalid couldn't really argue with Gorak's logic, but it didn't do much to make him feel any better.  He was fairly certain that the strange inflections in the speaker's voice belied an otherworldly heritage, which served to lead him down a fairly concerning line of thought.  The time they spent in the mountains had done little to throw off their many pursuers apparently and if they couldn't hide deep within the mountains of the north, where could they?  Khalid, resigned, stood up and followed Gorak with a heavy sigh.  Shayla, looking dubious, trailed them down the path.

In the failing light, it took them several minutes to locate the stranger.  Scrambling up a steep incline, Khalid peered over and saw a figure sitting astride a chestnut coloured warhorse.  He looked human but as he was encased entirely in an imposing suit of matte black plate, it was difficult to be sure.  Thick rams horns curled out from the sides of the closed faced helm that sat atop his head and a dark black beard spilled out from underneath.  His armor had the look of expert craftsmanship, although Khalid could see where the scars of battle had been patched and repaired.  The shield that hung off his saddlehorn bore no crest and, like the armor, had apparently served its owner well.  He was heavily armed, not surprisingly, with an unadorned hand and a half sword hanging from his waist and a longbow slung across his back.  As he watched them approach, he turned his palms up, empty handed, in a universal gesture of peace.

“Alright,” Gorak grunted.  “You found us.  Now start talking.”

“My words are for Khalid alone,” he rasped.  He turned slightly to address Khalid.  “I don't have no quarrel with you or yours.  Let me speak my piece and then judge my intentions.”

Fighting down his unease, Khalid couldn't help but admit to his curiosity.  Before Gorak could reply, he spoke up, “Ah, yes, very well then, I will hear you out.  Let us move away a little, out of earshot but within sight of my friends, and I will listen, yes, listen to what you have to say.”  Trying to summon up some no existent bravado, he continued, “But I warn you, if you are playing false with us we will not hesitate to destroy you.  Yes, quite.”  The stranger nodded, and turned his horse back down the path.  Khalid moved to follow, when Gorak caught him by the arm.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” he growled.

Khalid shrugged, seeing the concern in their eyes. “Ah, no, not really,” he admitted.  “But I sense no falsehood in his voice or manner, and I cannot, yes, cannot help but be intrigued.”

“Alright.  Go if you must.” Shayla said.  “We'll stay right here, ready if you need us.”

“Ah yes, quite.”  Khalid replied, “Let's hope it does not come to that.”

Khalid moved away, joining the strange warrior down the path.  For several hours they talked as dusk deepened into night, until finally he rejoined Gorak and Shayla, a thoughtful expression on his face.  Shayla stood from where she had been teasing Emma with a bit of string, and Gorak glanced up from cleaning his armor.

“So?” Shayla asked.  “What's that guy all about?”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid replied, “he is most, yes, most unusual.”

“Who is he?” Gorak grunted.

“His name is Azarek.  He has been searching for me for quite some time.”

“What does he want?” Shayla repeated.

“Ah, yes, well we have not concluded our discussions yet,” Khalid replied.  “I returned only to prepare your shelter for the evening.”  He paused to open up the pocket dimension.  “I do not believe he poses any danger to us.  Yes, quite.”

“You got awful trusting all of a sudden,” Gorak growled, eying him suspiciously.

Khalid held up his hand, stopping Gorak from continuing.  “I assure you, he cast no spells upon me.  There are other factors, yes, factors at play here.”

“This ain't no time to be cryptic Khalid,” Gorak growled, clearly irritated.

“I will explain everything, yes, everything tomorrow.  Please, trust me for the moment.”

Gorak muttered something under his breath and turned around, obviously unconvinced.  Shayla shrugged and decided to take Khalid at his word, retreating into the magical shelter.  Khalid returned to his conversation with Azarek, speaking with him long into the night.  He returned to their camp in the morning to find Gorak sitting stoically beside the open portal, still keeping watch.  As he approached, Gorak growled, “Khalid's back.  We're coming up, Shayla.”

“Just a minute!” she called out sleepily.  Gorak gave her barely that before climbing through the gate.  Khalid followed him and promptly wilted under Shayla's scathing glare as she pulled her bedroll up around her shoulders.

“Alright,” Gorak grunted.  “Start talking.  What's the deal with that walking tin can down there?”

“Ah, it's complicated,” Khalid began slowly.  Sensing Gorak's mood, he continued on quickly.  “There are parts of his past of which he has forbidden, yes, forbidden me to speak, and I will respect that.”

“So what can you tell us?” Shayla asked.

“As you may have noticed from his speech, Azarek is not a native of this place.  However, my discussions with him have confirmed, yes, confirmed what I suspected.  Not only is he not from the East, he is not even from this plane of existence.”  He paused somewhat melodramatically to allow that to sink in.  Somewhat disappointed by the lack of response, he continued on, “Ah, well, not entirely anyhow.  Azarek is the bastard issue of an unholy union.”

“Just how unholy are we talking about here Khalid?”  Gorak growled.  “Like Vestalt kind of unholy?”

“Ah, yes, something like that,” Khalid replied.  “It is not as uncommon as you would perhaps imagine.”  Noticing Shayla's raised eyebrow, he added, “Well, not uncommon if you've been exposed to the type of education  I have.  Yes, quite.  They are known as Tiefling, but I would not call him such,” Khalid cautioned hastily.  “It is a term likely to cause offense.  These unfortunate creatures are not truly at home here or among the infernal realms and are often outcast among both.”

“So far, ain't nothing you said gives me a warm fuzzy feeling about this Azarek.” Gorak grunted.  “What's he want?”

“Ah, yes, well, he wants to join us.” Khalid replied.  “Ah, me in particular it would seem.”

“I hope you told him where to stick that bright idea,” Shayla muttered.

“Ah, no, on the contrary,” Khalid said.  “I agreed.”

“You did what?” Gorak grumbled, in that dangerously flat tone he used when he was trying to control his emotions.

“Azarek sees me as an instrument to exact revenge for past wrongs.  He has been counselled, yes, counselled that my survival will grant him the opportunity that he seeks.  Yes, quite.”

“Oh yeah?  And what do you think of that?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, yes, well it doesn't exactly fill me with joy,” Khalid admitted.  “I have not promised to aid him in his task, but the fact, yes, the fact that he found me when so many others have failed demonstrates the depths of his conviction.  Yes, quite.”

“How do you know he ain't just feeding you a line, waiting for an opportunity to hand you over to one of those 'others' that are out there hunting for your hide?” Gorak growled, still clearly annoyed.

“Ah, yes, I believe he was honest with me,” Khalid replied.  “But there is more, yes, more to it then that.  To an extent, you will have to trust me, when I say that I trust him completely.”

“I dunno Khalid,” Shayla said.  “We three have come a long way together but having this...whatever he is, hanging around, that's a lot to ask.”

“Ah, yes, of course I understand.  I will endeavor, yes, endeavor to explain.”  Khalid paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.  “The tainted blood that flows through his veins gives Azarek abilities beyond that of a normal mortal.  It also, however, carries with it some unique disadvantages as well.  Those beings we call devils or demons have a presence, a force, yes, force of will that far exceeds our own.  Their consciousness can often survive obliteration of their physical form in a way wholly different from our own, so strong is their mental fortitude.  Their...”  he hesitated, trying to find the words to describe the alien concept, “identity for lack of a better word, is far stronger than their incredible physical power.  At the root of this awareness, this sense of self, is a name that binds them together.  A name that provides an anchor for all that the creature is.  A true name, if you will, that contains its intelligence and demeanor in its entirety.”

“Obviously,” Khalid continued, “these beings guard this name, this key, yes, key to their identity with all means at their disposal.  For in the hands of somebody that recognizes it for what it is, it grants an enormous measure of control.  It can be used as a weapon, to warp the very fabric of what makes the creature what it is.  In the hands of a skilled magi, it can be used to compel the creature against its will or even tear apart its very essence.”  Khalid looked first to Gorak and then Shayla, as the realization dawned on them.”

“And he...” Shayla began, with some surprise.

“Yes,” Khalid confirmed.  “Azarek's mortal blood ensures that should you destroy his body, he will cease to be but still he carries this burden upon him.  And so committed to his goals is he, so consumed by what he seeks, he has shared this name with me, knowing, yes, knowing that it would be the one thing that would allow me to trust him explicitly.”

The gravity of Khalid's words reached through even Gorak's foul demeanor.  He whistled softly, and when he spoke again, at least some of the irritation had left him.  “You're sure about this?” he growled.  When Khalid nodded, he continued, “Alright then, maybe we can try this out.  But at the first sign of anything funny.”  He made a jerking motion across his neck with his hand.  “It's a quick cut and a shallow hole for your new friend.”

“Ah, yes, quite.” Khalid muttered.

They dropped out of the magical shelter and moved down the hillside to join Azarek, who was waiting patiently beside his mount.  Khalid made the introductions, taking no small amount of glee in Shayla's response as Azarek removed his helm.  He'd purposefully neglected to mention some of Azarek's more obvious manifestations of his heritage, just to see how she would react.  Encased in armor, there was little to suggest that he was anything other than human but as he removed his helm, any doubt as to his nature vanished.  The curling horns that swept down around the front of his helm were not a mere decoration of his armor.  Rather, the armor had been cunningly designed to conceal the fact that the horns grew out from just above his temples.  Once you got past the horns however, he looked more or less like an Easterner.  He was a shade paler than most, but you didn't really notice it unless you were right beside him. His eyes were a little off putting too; more pupil then iris, which made it hard to tell exactly who he was staring so intently at but besides those minor differences, his face was regular, even handsome.  That night as he removed his armor, Khalid was half expecting to see a tail, or cloven hooves, but Azarek seemed to bear no other traces of his infernal ancestry.

Shayla, obviously intrigued, made an attempt to draw out Azarek as they prepared their evening meal, but even with all her considerable charm, she failed to illicit much more than a one word response from him.  Frustrated and annoyed, she eventually gave up and decided to ignore him completely, which seemed to suit Azarek just fine.  As they road out down into the vast Eastern tundra in the morning, the awkwardness remained, and for the most part, they travelled in silence.  There was no need to discuss their destination; a solitary peak rose out of the empty plain, dominating the skyline to the northeast. 

Finally, Khalid broke the silence, “Ah, so how far do you think are from the mountain?”

“Hard ta say,” Gorak rumbled shielding his eyes from the dazzling sunlight with his hand.  “The map that Arbaq gave us ain't too accurate, and there ain't no way to tell how big that thing is.  A few days maybe, no more than a week at most I wager.”  Since, the barren landscape gave little of interest to discuss, Khalid turned to Azarek, bored enough to risk being rebuffed yet again, “Ah, yes, so something has been bothering me.  How exactly did you find me.”

“Weren't easy,” he replied and then, surprisingly continued in his heavy, rasping voice.  “I musta crossed this kingdom a half dozen times, seeking out every two bit charlatan and drugged out seer from here to the Great Ocean.  Prophesies and ranting, gibberish and graft is mostly all I got to show fer it.  But finally I got me an audience with this _magician_,” he put a particularly unpleasant inflection on the word, “in Caer Morag.”

“Ah, magician?” Khalid interrupted.  “How long ago?  Did he have access to his magic.”

“Maybe a year ago, maybe bit less.  Ain't always easy keeping track of stuff like that out 'ere.  I didn't see him do nothing and he spent all of about two licks of a dogs arse doing it.  He took one look at me, and sent me off.  Summoned me back tha next morning and gave me a map and a name.”

“Ah,” was all Khalid replied, somewhat disappointed.

“Khalid's name?” Gorak grunted.

“Nah, I already knew who I wuz looking fer by then, I just din't no where ta find 'im.  The name he gave me was fer some old crone and  I could tell right away that she weren't no crock, let me tell ya.”

“Oh?” Shayla perked up.  “Does that come from your...” she made a little curl in the air with the tip of her finger, mimicking the sweep of his horns.

“Nope.” His armor creaked a bit as he turned to look at her.  “I could tell jes by looking to the folk around 'er.  You don't look at nobody like that unless you _believe_.  She toll me where to find you.  Course,” he muttered, his harsh voice turning even more sinister.  “She din't tell me when.  Bin sitting up there bout three damn months I figure.”

Khalid leaned back in his saddle, considering Azarek's words.  What bribes and payments he must have made, to come so far and what tolls must have been extracted from him.  Of course, he'd saved his best bargaining chip for Khalid.  The one thing that he knew Khalid wouldn't be able to refuse.  Khalid wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.    The rest of the day's ride passed slowly as Azarek's laconic tendencies returned.  Khalid half dozed at the reins, directing his conjured mount to follow the others.  Wearied by the previous nights conversation, he was startled when Gorak spoke again.”

“We got some of Ruwayd's friends following us,” Gorak growled.

Khalid turned in his saddle, scanning the skies for Janni when he realized what Gorak meant.  On the horizon behind them, six specs were growing quickly.   “Griffons,” Khalid muttered despondently.

“Yup,” Gorak grunted.  “This should be fun.  There's not much cover around here.   Let's make for those trees.”  He pointed at a stand of a dozen shrivelled looking pine trees ahead.  They rode hard, whipping their mounts into a frenzy as they raced across the frozen ground.

Over the pounding hooves, Shayla called out, “We're not going to make it!”

Thinking quickly, Khalid reined in.  “Ah, get off your horses!  Quickly!  We'll abandon, yes, abandon them to the griffons and make our way to the trees on foot, while they're distracted.”

“Speak for yourself wizard.  Ain't nobody gonna eat this horse but me,” Azarek rasped.

“Yes, yes,” Khalid snapped, “fine.  Not yours, but the conjured ones!”

As Shayla and Gorak jumped off, Khalid sent the horses fleeing away from them, on tangents away from the woods.  Screeching as they dove in for the kill, the griffons wheeled in the air and followed.

Amid the shrieks of the dying horses, the four ran towards the sparse protection of the trees.  Panting and gasping, Shayla and Khalid collapsed on the ground, as Gorak skidded to a stop behind them.  Azarek dismounted and strapped on his heavy shield.

“Here they come!” Gorak growled.  “And they don't look very happy that their lunch just turned into purple smoke.”

“Yeah, well if those stupid buzzards are annoyed at that,” Shayla wheezed as she staggered to their feet.  “They're really gonna hate this.”    She gestured up in the air, and the three lead griffons were engulfed in ball of flame.  Charred and smoking, they banked hard in the air, crying out in pain as they fled back towards the mountains.  The remaining three circled warily, until Shayla sent up another burst of flame, exploding it high in the air.  Filling the air with frustrated screeches, they turned and followed their wounded companions.

“Well, that worked out okay,” Gorak grunted casually.

“Ah, yes, except that I can not arrange for transportation until tomorrow.  Yes, quite.” Khalid pointed out.  “So I believe we're camping here tonight.”

On the second day, they picked up a river that ran down out of the foothills and, according to their map, flowed all the way to the mountain.  Its banks cut a relatively straight path through the snow and ice, and they followed it for several more days as the solitary peak continued to grow on the horizon.   By the middle of the fifth day, Khalid was starting to think it might be some sort of weird arctic mirage until he began to make out features around its base.  Frowning slightly as he tried to work out what he was seeing, he took his hat off and mopped his sweating face.  Seeing Shayla fanning herself, he asked, “Ah, is it just me, or is it getting warmer?”

“It ain't just you.  That's grass down there, near the mountain.  Looks like a lake too.  That cloud around the base is steam coming up offa the water.” Gorak rumbled.  “Probably underground springs running all through this area, heating up the air.  I'm gonna go take a look around.”  He tossed the reins of his horse to Shayla and dropped out of the saddle, shimmering into the form of a hawk before he hit the ground.  Azarek rode up from the rear of the party, to take the lead. Within minutes, Khalid and Shayla had to strip down to attire that would have been suitable for Gem-Sharad.  Azarek seemed content to suffer within his steel armor.  As they rode on, the ground beneath their horses hooves turned from frozen earth and snow to lush green grass.  Khalid judged them to still be several hours away when Gorak returned, circling high overhead.  He swooped down and reverted into his natural form in front of them.

“We've got a problem,” he growled.

“What else is new,” Shayla sighed.

“There's a village up there,” Gorak continued, “on the lake.  I flew through it to check it out, and I think I might have spooked 'em.”

“How so?”

“Well it looks like nothing but a bunch of crude yurts and long-houses, but I think I caught at least two of 'em doing some sort of ritual.  And more than one of 'em stopped to take a good long look at me.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid replied, mulling over the situation.  “Then we must decide if we should present ourselves to them, or try to avoid the village and head directly to the mountain.”

“They might not be hostile,” Shayla pointed out.  “And if they live right under the thing, they might know what's inside, or at least have stories or legends about it.”

“They're gonna outnumber us pretty badly,” Gorak grumbled as he climbed on his mount, “if they don't take a shine to yer pretty little smile.”  He nudged his mount into a trot, angling it slightly away from the direction of the village.  “Normally I wouldn't worry too much about a bunch tribesmen in a village out in the middle of nowhere, but there's something strange going on there.”

“Yes, quite.” Khalid said.  “Still, I hate to pass up the opportunity to learn, yes, learn what it is we might face.”

As they debated, they turned further away from the village to buy more time before making a decision.  The sun was setting behind them when Gorak cursed and called Azarek up from the rear of the group.  “Looks like we don't get a choice no more,” he growled.  “I count at least a dozen men, running hard this way.”

The minutes felt like hours as they waited for the tribesmen to reach them.  Azarek strapped on his shield and drew out his sword, resting it across his saddle.  Khalid fiddled nervously with his spell components, feeling dreadfully exposed, sitting on top of his horse in the wide open terrain.  He was certain that they could at least outrun any difficulty in the short term, but didn't relish the thought of being harried by the locals across the tundra.

“You'd better put yer hat on,” Gorak growled to Azarek, “things are gonna get started real soon, and either way, yer gonna need it.”  Azarek nodded and donned his heavy metal helm, concealing his origins.

They tribesmen weren't precisely running when they spotted the party, but rather they moved in a rolling jog that quickly ate up the distance.  As they approached, they began to fan out.  Each one had a longbow drawn with arrow nocked, as they formed a semi-circle around the horses, keeping well back.  Khalid cursed under his breath as he watched how carefully they warriors spaced themselves out, severely limiting his options.  He was forced to agree with Gorak's assessment that these were more than mere plains folk.

The two groups eyed each other cautiously for a few seconds before the man Khalid took for a leader spoke up.  Unfortunately, whatever he was saying was incomprehensible gibberish to Khalid.  He looked over his shoulder at Gorak and Shayla, but saw only his own incomprehension mirrored in their faces.  With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Khalid rattled off greetings in all of the languages he knew.  Since these consisted mainly of the various dialects of the other realms of existence, he wasn't surprised with the lack of response.  He paused for a moment before trying the foul speech of the devils.  He wasn't really prepared to consider what a response from them in that tongue would imply, but he decided it was worth the risk.  Dredging up vague memories from his schooling, he tried what he thought was a reasonable greeting in the cursed tongue.

Azarek chortled behind his helm as the tribesmen glowered back in silence.  “'S'a damn good thing they din't unnerstand what you jes toll 'em we was gonna do to 'em.  ”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered.  “That's the problem with the infernal language.  Everything is expressed in degrees of torture.”  He spoke up again, “This is going to be a problem, yes, quite.  They don't speak any language that I'm familiar with.”

Gorak tried a few words of goblin but was met with the same stony silence.  Frustrated, the man turned and spoke to a smaller, cloaked figure standing behind him.  To Khalid's surprise, a female voice gave him a sharp rebuke.  The cowled figure turned back her hood, and Khalid's amazement turned to shock.
She was dressed in a similar fashion, clad in well worn leathers embroidered with patterns of beads, but seemed ancient compared to the men around here.  Deep lines and wrinkles covered the old woman's bronzed, weathered face.  Despite her advanced age, she seemingly had little difficulty keeping pace with the young warriors, the oldest of which Khalid estimated at a third her age.  There was no trace of fatigue in her voice.  As she walked past the taller man, his tone went from harsh to imploring, but she brushed aside whatever he was saying, and crossed the fifty yards that separated the two groups.  The warriors raised their bows threateningly.

The old woman ignored this as she stomped over to Khalid, a look of supreme annoyance on her face.  Reaching into pouch at her waist, she drew out a tiny, hollowed out gourd and motioned for Khalid to come closer.  Placing the gourd between her teeth, she whistled an odd, hollow tune through it and seized Khalid by the hand.  Cringing slightly at the old woman's touch, Khalid tried not to look threatening as the warriors trained their bows on him.  Preparing to defend himself against any attack, physical or magical, he was surprised when the old woman released his hand, practically flinging it away from her.

“You understand now?” she asked.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid stammered, caught off guard.

“Good, you speak for the others then.  Why are you here?” she demanded, with no preamble.  The strength of her voice was belied by her frail form.

“Ah, yes,” Khalid agreed, getting a hold of himself. “Perhaps you would share coffee with us,” he offered, thinking quickly about what he knew etiquette,  and deciding that Magol's type was probably the most appropriate in this situation.  “We have brought gifts and items, yes, items of trade from the West.  Let us sit and discuss these things and our purpose for being here.”

“We care nothing for your trinkets or your bribes,” the old woman retorted, her scowl darkening.  “Explain yourself.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid muttered, stalling as he searched for a way to placate the old woman.

What's she saying?  What's going on?” Gorak growled, clearly frustrated.  Whatever the old woman had done, it had only affected Khalid.

“Ah, she is not impressed.”

“Well, then tell her it ain't none of her business what we're doing here,” Gorak snarled.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered.  “I don't think I'll tell her that.”  He turned back to the woman, who clearly was following what he had been saying.  He offered her a partial explanation, hoping to deflect scrutiny from their intentions, if not their destination.  “Ah, we are on a pilgrimage, you see, to the mountain.  Yes, a pilgrimage.  These two are my guides, and she is my wife.  Yes, quite.  I am a scholar.”

  “Martok does not welcome visitors,” the old woman warned them.  She pointed at Azarek, “That one failed to mention that after he found you, he was bringing you back here.”

Khalid cursed under his breath, “Ah, that's the old woman that told you how to find me?” he said in the language of the devils, incredulously.  “You might, yes, might have mentioned that.”

“You din't ask,” Azarek grunted.

“Now what's she saying?” Gorak growled.  Khalid could sense his mood turning belligerent. 

“Ah, she's warning us to stay away from the mountain, of course,” Khalid said.

“Now, I ask again, what do you want with Martok?” the old woman demanded.

“Ah, the mountain?” Khalid asked, starting to run out of lies.  “We were led to believe it was uninhabited.  We are on a pilgrimage from the West, you see...”

“Turn away from this place.  Martok sleeps now and we dare not wake him.”

“Martok?  Who's Martok?  Is that the mountain, or something that lives in the mountain?” Khalid asked, somewhat confused by the old woman's usage of the strange word.  Whatever she had done seemed to be conveying meanings as much as translating words, but he couldn't quite grasp the connotation of the word.

“Martok is the mountain and the mountain is Martok,” the old woman replied cryptically.  “Long ago did the children of Martok worship at his feet, but their time has passed.  Now only Martok remains, locked in restless slumber.”

“Ah, yes, and what is your role in this?” Khalid asked.

“We abide against his awakening, and deal with those who would hasten the arrival of that day.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.  “If you will permit us a moment?”  He turned to Gorak and Shayla.  “Is there any use in guile?  They have lived in the shadow of this mountain for some time.  Surely they are not, yes, not wholly uneducated.”

“Maybe,” Gorak grunted.  “Let's stop playing games then.  Ask them if they're gonna stop us.”  Khalid somewhat hesitantly translated. 

The old woman pursed her lips slightly, and looked at the four of them.  “You are not welcome here.” she said finally.  “And should you think that you might sneak past our scouts, know this.  When the children of Martok departed this place, they left upon it a powerful curse, to ensure that none would supplant them as Martok's favorites.  Martok demands a heavy toll, should you seek to venture within.”

“And that is?” Khalid asked.

The old woman chuckled slyly, “His children surrendered that which they held most dear unto him to gain his favor, if you seek him out, he will demand the same of you.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid muttered.  “What else would it be.”  He drew the others aside and spoke quietly.  “Well, now what do we do?”

“She could be lying,” Gorak growled bluntly as Khalid relayed the conversation.  “Maybe they're just trying to keep us outta that place.” 

“Arbaq didn't say anything about a curse,” Shayla pointed out.

“Ah, yes, well, my faith in Arbaq's judgement is somewhat diminished these days.  Yes, quite.” Khalid responded  “I can potentially deal with any magical seals that bar our entry but curses are another matter entirely.”

“That's a helluva distinction to be making now,” Gorak growled.

“The timliness of the statement does nothing, yes, nothing to diminish its relevance,” Khalid retorted.  “We are on no specific time frame to procure what Arbaq requires.  Perhaps we should investigate more fully what may lie in wait for us within that mountain before we rush headlong into it.  Yes, quite.”

“What part of 'ancient Dwerro citadel' led you to believe this was gonna be easy?” Gorak snarled.

“Ah, the 'abandoned' part.  In case you haven't noticed, no part of this journey has gone according to plan.  By rights, yes, rights, we should be dead back in those mountains.  All I am saying, is that, for a change, let us prepare for the situation, rather than react to it.  Yes, quite.”

“How do you know we're gonna be able to find anything?” Gorak grunted as he considered Khalid's words.

“I don't, really,” Khalid admitted, “but you're telling me that there's a giant, yes, giant mountain, stuffed with relics of the Dwerro empire, and in the last three hundred years, nobody has tried to rob it, or study it.? Besides, it's entirely, yes, entirely possible that what we seek can be found within a library or alchemist's lab.”

“Shayla?” Gorak growled.

“I don't know,” she said.  “I got the feeling that what we were doing was important to Arbaq.  That maybe it was urgent.  But,” she admitted, “he's hard to read.  Maybe it's just a big business deal, or his reputation on the line.  And you know what I risk.”  She looked at Khalid.  “What we risk.”  Khalid knew what she meant and certainly wasn't going to disagree, guilty as he might feel.

“So where are you gonna look?” Gorak growled.

Khalid frowned and turned back to the old woman, “Ah, If we are forbidden to study the mountain itself, where else could we turn?  Is there perhaps somewhere in Caer Morag?”

“If whatever you can seek can be found in books, then certainly the cities of the south are the place to look,” the old woman replied, clearly indifferent to the question.  “But you would be best to simply return to the west.  The south winds blow heavy with the stench of war.”

“Ah, yes, Dwerro,” Khalid replied.  “Moving east from the mountains.  You know that when they get things settled, yes, settled in the south, they will come looking for this place.”

“It is a possibility,” the old woman shrugged off the danger, clearly losing patience with the discussion.  “But far from a certainty.  The children of Martok have not faired well during their exile.  Few if any remain, and the other Dwerro have sense enough not to come to this place uninvited.  As should you.”  Looking at all four of them in turn, she settled finally on Khalid and jabbed her finger at him.  “You are not welcome here,” she repeated.  “If you insist on travelling to Caer Morag, head in that direction and do not stray.  If you are still within our lands when the sun rises, you will be removed.”  There was no mistaking the threat in her tone.  With that, she turned and walked past the line of warriors.  The men slowly faded back, not turning away until the old woman and her guards were well ahead of them.

Abruptly dismissed, they stood around and watched as the tribesman departed.  Gorak fumed silently until they were out of earshot and then burst out, “Alright, so what are we really gonna do?”  For a while, they debated risking a confrontation with the villagers but in the end, decided that they had nothing to lose but a few weeks by travelling to the city.  As they talked, Khalid conjured up their mounts and they began to  gather up their packs.  The rode out slowly, under the light of the full moon, passing through rows of planted crops and tilled volcanic earth.  Within a few hours, they passed the border of the natives territory, clearly marked by a line of snow and frost that covered the ground beyond.  Unwilling to travel further in the dark, they pitched their camp just on the other side, and vanished into the safety of the magical portal.

In the morning, when Khalid woke up, Gorak was already gone.  Khalid gathered up his pack and dropped down into the snow, just as Gorak returned, swooping down out of the sky and change back into his natural form.  Khalid eyed him suspiciously.

“Ah, where have you been?” he asked.

“Leaving our friends a little surprise,” Gorak rumbled, with a grin on his face that served only to heighten Khalid's anxiety.

“Ah, the kind of surprise that is likely to result in mob of angry villagers tracking us to the walls of Caer Morag?”

“Nah,” Gorak chuckled.  “Not that I didn't think about it.  I left 'em the kind that just might gain us a little currency if and when we come back this way.”

Consulting the map given to them by Arbaq,  they traced out a route from the mountain to the city of Caer Morag that would keep them away from roads and other populated areas that might have drawn already drawn the attention of the Dwerro.  Slowly, as they headed south, the tundra turned to steppes and the weather turned from late winter to early spring.  In the first few days after leaving the mountain, the terrain was rugged and untamed but as they travelled, the sparse game trails had become well worn hunting paths.  They debated the merits of approaching one of the small towns or villages marked on their map, with the hopes of learning the whereabouts of the Dwerro army, but each time they rode past, opting to avoid suspicion and rely on Gorak's scouting to carry them past any danger.  By the end of the week, they were skirting small villages and crossing rutted, well worn roads daily.  As the risk of detection increased, fortunately the terrain turned to their advantage.  The sparse stands of trees that dotted the northern plains began to thicken and in places, became actual forest.  The ground, which had been flat enough to see to the horizon in the north, here rolled with gentle hills, aiding their efforts further.

The morning of the eight day after their meeting with the tribesmen found them picking their way carefully through well groomed forest of ancient trees.  Through a combination of caution and  luck, they remained unnoticed during the journey.   Although it was impossible to determine exactly where they were on the map, Khalid was certain that they were close to the city.  Twice now, they had been forced out of their way by Dwerro patrols and the last village they had come across, a half day back, had been abandoned and razed.  Khalid surmised that the Dwerro army had been through here in large enough numbers to scare off the population some time ago, but not in sufficient force to hold it. 

The shadows were lengthening among the trees when Gorak returned, swooping to the ground in front of them and shimmering back into his own form.  “We gotta be careful now,” he rumbled.  “We're real close to the city.”  Rather than scout ahead again, he led them on foot through the thinning trees.  Ahead, Khalid could hear a sound, like the echo of distance thunder filtering through the brush.  “Stay low,” Gorak growled.  “We're coming out on a small rise overlooking the city.”

The queasiness in the pit of his stomach rose in concert with the din coming from the valley as Khalid followed Gorak out onto the ridge.  From their vantage on a ridge on the north side, they could see down into the valley east and west of the city, and beyond, to the untamed wilderness that bordered the south.  With a gasp, all thoughts of concealment fled from Khalid's mind as he stared at the chaos in the valley below.  Everywhere he looked around the walls of the city flew the standards of Dwerro clans.  Huge barricades had been erected across the main road running east-west through the city, on both sides.  At regular intervals around the walls, regiments of Dwerro infantry were entrenched just beyond arrow range.   To the west, a battery of siege engines, monstrous counterbalanced catapults, shuddered and groaned as teams of Dwerro artillerymen swarmed around them like tiny ants, reloading them.  Khalid watched with a dreadful fascination as the crews finished their preparations and released the weights in quick succession.   The missiles were still in the air when the sound of the grinding crash from the machines reached Khalid a few seconds later.  The enormous stones flew threw the arc in a high arc and the skill of the Dwerro engineers became immediately apparent as three projectiles landed within a arm's width apart on a section of the wall.  The first shattered into pieces; the second buckled the wall and the third smashed low into the base of the fortifications.  For a second, Khalid thought perhaps they had missed their mark, when a large chuck of masonry  slowly toppled out onto the field below.  Dust and debris billowed out on the field as the weakened wall began to collapse, widening the breach.  Trumpets began to sound in the camps on that side of the city and glittering rows of Dwerro infantry scrambled into position.  On the hillside, the frantic task of reloading the catapults began again.

“If it wasn't for bad luck, we wouldn't have any luck at all,” Shayla muttered despondently as she watched the events unfolding below.  Unable to believe their misfortune, Khalid was forced to agree with her bleak assessment once again.


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## The Axe

*Yay!*

You're back! 

Still reading, still enjoying!


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## EroGaki

Just finished reading through the entire Story Hour. Cool story, cool campaign.


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## EternalNewbie

EroGaki said:


> Just finished reading through the entire Story Hour. Cool story, cool campaign.




Thanks.  It's always nice to hear from new readers...



The Axe said:


> You're back!
> 
> Still reading, still enjoying!




...and old ones 

* * * * * * * * * *​
“Ah, I don't think I want to watch this,” Khalid said, but overcome with morbid fascination, he couldn't force himself to follow through on the words.  Like the others, he watched as the scene below unfolded.  Bells tolled out from the section of town closest to the breach while the Dwerro regiments continued to reposition, forming up for the advance.  Row upon row of infantry clad in glittering mail were soon supported by a contingent of crossbowmen, firing relentlessly at the disorganized defenders who were rushing to blockade the crumbling defenses.  The siege engines unleashed another barrage of stones, most of which sailed over the wall, demolishing houses and buildings in plume of smoke and dust.  The sound of drums signaled the start of the Dwerro advance and the infantry moved towards the wall in lockstep to the steady beat.  From the wall, the besieged soldiers fired a volley of arrows down into the massed soldiers.  Here and there among the ranks, a Dwerro tumbled down and lay unmoving as the archers found targets, but it seemed a pitiful effort in the face of overwhelming odds.  

“Well that was a waste of two weeks,” Gorak growled callously.  He turned to Khalid, his eyes narrowing.  “Any more bright ideas?”

Khalid knew Gorak's belligerence was likely a cover for his concern but had to admit he didn't have an answer.  He hadn't thought past Caer Morag, pinning all his hopes on its library.  “Ah, well, maybe,” he stammered.  “I guess I don't really...”

“What the...” Shayla interrupted.  “Look at that!” she exclaimed, pointing at the city below.

The Dwerro host broke into a deliberate jog, still holding their lines as they approached the gap.  They were within ten yards of it when the earth in front of the wall erupted and a huge slab of stone rose up, sealing the breech.  Instantly the number of archers on the wall seemed to double and the shouted command to fire reached their ears seconds after the mass volley slammed into the advancing soldiers.  From hidden positions within the city, catapults flung baskets of fist size stones high into the air, smashing into the panicked troops at the rear of the attack.  The front ranks of the advance began to break and stall, while the archers on the wall drew back for a second barrage.

“Guess we know how they've managed ta hold off the Dwerro so far,” Gorak grunted in surprise.

Chaos reigned within the Dwerro ranks as they tried to recover from the deadly attack.   Trapped between the newly repaired wall and the soldiers moving up from the rear, those in the lead of the advance bore the brunt of the defenders rage.  Only the legendary discipline of the Dwerro kept the troops from being routed.  Those in the back ranks raised their shields overhead, moving up to cover those ahead of them, while those in the front fell backwards in step, presenting a steel shell to the defenders on the wall.  Arrows and stones still found the gaps within the formation, and occasionally a hole would appear as a Dwerro soldier fell.  Another shield always rose quickly to take the place of the fallen and methodically the Dwerro regiments retreated back out of range of the defenders.

“The wizard Nargamon?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid replied.  “It would appear that Zarum has not yet discharged his task.  Unchecked, the presence of a skilled magi within the ranks of the defenders could present a formidable, yes, formidable obstacle.”  Shayla frowned at the mention of the Dwerro they had rescued, still not completely at ease at having returned him to his people, in light of her ancestry.

“Alright, so it doesn't look like we're gonna be dining with Dwerro in Caer Morag tonight,” Shayla said.  “But there's still an awful lot of them between us and that city.  How are we gonna get inside?”

“Ah, Gorak can take care of himself obviously, and I will make arrangements for the three of us.  It will consume, yes, consume most of my ability for the day, but we should be able to fly over the army undetected.”  Khalid frowned in though as he eyed the distance to the walls.  “We'll need to get closer, yes, much closer to the city however, or we risk landing in the middle of a horde of angry Dwerro troops.”  He turned to Azarek, “And, ah, yes, I won't be able to do anything about your horse.”

“Jes great,” Azarek muttered.  “You gonna buy me a new one?”

“Ah, well, should the need arise, I can conjure one up for you.”

“I promised that stupid nag she was going inta my stew pot when I was dun wit her. Yer gonna make a liar outta me.” Azarek muttered darkly.  Khalid chose to ignore that.

“In any event, I can't do anything about it this evening.  We will have to proceed tomorrow.  Yes, quite.”

Saying he was going to fly them over the Dwerro army and actually doing it were two completely different things.  Gorak roused Khalid before dawn and he groggily flipped open his spellbook, forcing his sleep fogged mind to focus on the arcane words.  An hour later he was prepared, and they dropped down out of the portal into the early morning gloom.  Staying low, Gorak led them quickly through the sparse brush, their efforts to hide aided by the thin wisps of fog rising up from the damp ground.  After several nerve wracking minutes, Khalid finally judged them close enough.  Tugging on Gorak's sleeve, he gathered them close around and whispered a few last minute instructions.

“Ah, yes, you will not be able to see each other, but you can see Gorak, and I can see you.  Follow him, and I will keep either of you from straying.  Do not climb higher than you need to in order to clear the walls, it will only slow you down.”

Without waiting for Khalid, Gorak shimmered into the form of an eagle and launched himself into the air.  Always cautious, Khalid began by bending the light around Shayla and hiding her from view, before moving on to Azarek and them himself.  As he prepared the spell that would grant them flight, a Dwerro challenge rang out, startling him and almost causing him to stumble over the complex intonations.  Trusting his magic to hide them, he hurried as much as he dared, and finished weaving through the gestures of the spell.  A few seconds later, the three of them flew into the dawn sky, leaving a somewhat bewildered Dwerro scout behind.

Even though he knew he couldn't be seen and was fairly sure he had calculated the distance correctly, flying over the Dwerro army was more than a little unnerving.  They passed over orderly row upon row of tents and wagons piled high with stocks of weapons and shields.  Beneath them, the first signs of activity were appearing as the army prepared to take up the siege for another day.  They flew over the scouts patrolling the perimeter and finally crossed the trenches and breastworks that surrounded the Dwerro enclave and into the no man's land in front of the city wall  Feeling the weave of his spells beginning to unravel, he glanced up and spotted Shayla hovering just on the other side of the wall.  Picking out Gorak circling overhead, Khalid steered Azarek towards her, and guided them both away from the wall towards the burned out shell of a building, close the edge of the city.

They floated through a hole in the roof, down to the rumble on the ground, apparently all that remained of the second floor and most of one of the walls.  As they landed, Khalid dismissed the magical invisibility with a wave of his hand.  Almost immediately he was overwhelmed by a stench that rivaled his most potent magic.   When they stepped out through the gaping hole into an alley and onto a main street, it wasn't hard to see why.

Khalid had survived the siege at Knolton but the situation in Caer Morag was beyond anything he had ever witnessed.  Knolton was a fortified town of hardy hill folk, accustomed to rubbing elbows with unruly neighbors.  From what he could recollect, there hadn't been a true war in the East in well over a hundred years, and these villagers and peasants were wholly unprepared for a determined, well trained and superbly equipped enemy.  Caer Morag bulged with refugees.  They lined the streets and huddled in doorways.  Some camped in the ruins of their houses, sheltered from the foul spring weather underneath sodden blankets and patched tarps.  Most didn't even bother to beg as the group walked passed.  Nobody in the wretched city had anything to spare.

Khalid, absorbed by the misery around him, almost bumped into Gorak, who'd stopped to allow a weary looking group of men to trudge past.  Covered in soot, they were obviously part of a bucket brigade, returning from the wall. Save for them, Khalid noticed, most of those living in the streets were women and children, which came as little surprise to Khalid, having heard any number of unsavory rumors about the habits of the Dwerro army.  He started playing closer attention at the defenders of the town as they continued through the winding streets and the more he saw, the more his estimation of the wizard Nargamon grew.  It was painfully clear that the defenders were over matched by the Dwerro.  Not one man in five wore a uniform and even then, not all bore the same crest.  They carried whatever arms they could find and as many held ancient, rusty weapons as did hastily and crudely crafted new ones.   Armor for most, consisted only of as many layers of cloth as could be stitched together, with only the regulars wearing cuir bouilli or chain.  Khalid pulled his cloak tighter, trying to ward off the feeling of fear and despair.

“So where are we gonna find this Nargamon?” Shayla asked Azarek.

“Whar else?” he gestured with a nod of his head towards an imposing looking tower rising up from the center of town.  It lacked the threatening beauty of the Ivory tower, but it was immediately clear where the true power lay within the city.

“Another tower,” Gorak grunted, clearly unimpressed.  “On of these days yer gonna have to explain that to me,” he growled at Khalid.

“Ah it's simple.  Magi enjoy looking down on people,” Khalid replied. Seeing Shayla's raised eyebrow he added somewhat lamely, “Ah, well, most of them anyhow.  Yes, quite.”

Gorak snorted in amusement and led them further into the maze of crooked cobble stone  streets, following glimpses of the tower caught between buildings.  Emerging from the warren near the walls, they came across larger, more prominent avenues, but the grim mood in the city changed little.  Near the tower, they passed a group of new recruits, mostly young boys and old men, training half-heartedly under the stern watch of a wounded veteran.  As he cursed at them for falling out of formation, his hand fiddled absently with the bloodstained bandage knotted around the stump of his left arm.  Turning a corner, they left the square behind and turned on to a huge boulevard that ran through the center of town.  As it was in all cities, proximity to power denoted to wealth, and Caer Morag was no exception.  The street that led to the gated confines of the tower was lined with large, expensive looking shops and well appointed homes.  In times passed it had no doubt been impressive, but now the huge trees that lined either side had been cut down, scavenged for the war, and the bronze statues that stood at each intersection had been removed at the base, no doubt recast into something more useful.

Khalid spoke up as they approached the gates. “Ah, I should probably do the talking,” he said, somewhat unnecessarily, since only he and Azarek could speak the Eastern tongue.   Two weary looking guards, with  flat expressions and resignation in their eyes, stepped out of an alcove near the gate and challenged them.

“What do you want?” the soldier on the right asked brusquely, casually shifting the grip on his his spear, lowering it, but not quite leveling it at them.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid replied, “we wish to speak to the wizard Nargamon.”

“Nargamon's busy.  He ain't got time to meet with every refugee that wandered in off the plains.  There's a shelter over on Lion street,” he gestured vaguely.  “They might have food or blankets or something.”

“You misunderstand,” Khalid said, raising a hand and mumbling the words to a spell.  He floated a gold sultana out of his belt pouch and over to the guard, not so much as a bribe, but simply to prove a point.  “We have recently come over the wall, and bring news from the north and west.  We have crossed Dwerro held lands, and eluded their patrols.  There is much information we could share.”

The two guards exchanged a long look, before the silent one leaned his spear against the wall, and unlocked the gate.  “Wait here,” he ordered and then turned and jogged back into the small courtyard.  A few minutes passed until he returned, trailed by a young man in a dull gray robe.

“My name is Kaleb.  If you would follow me,” he gestured at the four of them, “I will show you to quarters where you can wait.  Nargamon will speak to you in a short while.”  He nodded to the two guards, who stepped back into their posts and held the gate open for them to enter.  Khalid studied the young man carefully as he locked the gate with a key on a chain around his neck.  He couldn't have been over twenty judging by the length of his beard, but the wand on his waist and battered book, held at his hip by a strap over his shoulder, showed the source of his confidence.

“Ah, so Nargamon,” Khalid asked as they stepped into the shadowed halls of the tower, “he is training apprentices?”

“Save your questions for Nargamon,” the young man replied.  “It's not for me to talk about.  These are your rooms, he said as he led them through a wing of the building extending off of the base of the tower.  By the dust on the floor, Khalid guessed that if Nargamon was training apprentices, it was far too few.   The each had their own room and despite the somewhat uncertain situation, the opportunity for some privacy overwhelmed them.  Khalid retreated to his room, and quickly began shrugging off his gear.  Glancing in a polished bronze mirror, he was somewhat taken aback with his appearance, having had no need to concern himself with it over the last few months.  Weeks spent hiking through the snow under the harsh winter sun had darkened his normally tanned skin by several degrees and the relentless  wind had weathered him.  A thick black beard, prematurely shot with gray, bloomed from his chin, and his hair, now shoulder length, was ragged and matted.  With the wave of his hand, he used a minor spell to clean himself up, but still felt somewhat under dressed for a meeting with the de facto ruler of the city.

An hour later, Kaleb returned and, with a polite knock on the door, summoned them to a meeting with Nargamon.  Shayla, Khalid noticed, had taken liberal advantage of the amenities and looked as though she had just stepped out of the Sultan's court, rather than the high peaks of the northern mountains.  Gorak of course, looked exactly the same, save for being slightly more annoyed at the long delay.  They followed  Kaleb to a broad staircase that spiraled upwards into the center of the tower.  As they climbed they passed doors and landings, and occasionally met others coming down from higher levels.  Just as Khalid began to break out in a sweat, they reached the top of the tower, and a small landing before a broad oaken door, bound with heavy steel bands.  Symbols, etched in white, bordered the frame, but didn't prevent Kaleb from reaching out and knocking on the door.  Opening it without a word, he gestured for them to enter, and shut the door behind.

As it turned out, Khalid needn't have fretted over his attire.  Stepping into the huge square room at the top level of the tower, he was  almost overcome with the smell of old food and stale sweat.  Shelves lined each wall from floor to ceiling, crammed with books.  Half a dozen tables were spread out around the room, which wrapped around the staircase in the center.  Each table with covered in a mound of books and alchemical equipment.

Behind a enormous desk, sat the wizard Nargamon.  He didn't look up as they entered, but stared silently at the book before him for a few long minutes, before dipping his quill in an ink pot and scratching out a few words on a scroll of parchment.   Khalid was forced to quickly abandon any preconceptions he'd had about Nargamon.  The man before them was hardly the regal commander.  His shoulders were thin and hunched; his skin sallow and pale from lack of sunlight.  His chin seemed determined to reach the floor, and was slowly pulling the rest of his face down after it.  He closed the book and turned his rheumy gaze on them, peering over the spectacles that dangled precariously on the tip of his long nose.  Brushing back a stranded of lank, greasy black hair, his breath wheezed through the numerous gaps in his teeth as he asked in Western, “Well?  What do you want?”

“Ah, yes, well,” Khalid began, “we come bearing information.  We have traveled from the west, through the Dwerro army recently.  We thought maybe some of what we learned might, yes, might be of use to you.”

“Maybe,” Nargamon snapped.  “But that didn't answer the question.  The question was: what do you want?”

Seeing little use in dissembling, Khalid replied, “Ah, yes, well what we would like, is access to the library.”

“The library.” Nargamon echoed flatly.  “You want access to the library.”  He placed the quill in his hand in an small bronze holder.  “Alright then.  I'm training apprentices, anybody that has ability, to help fight.  You swear allegiance to the city and then maybe we talk about what it is you want to find in the library.”

“Ah, yes, well, I am afraid we could not commit ourselves to something like that.  We are presently engaged on a separate task.  Perhaps when we have found what we seek, we will be in a position to aid you.”

“You've heard my offer.” Nargamon replied.  “This is not a negotiation.”

“We have information,” Gorak growled, his patience wearing thin.  “About the troops out there, we can tell you where they're located, what they're doing.”

“I already know that,” Nargamon said with a sneer.  He gestured at a map tacked up across the bookcases behind him.  The city was etched out in detail far beyond the ability of any human hand to create, and as Khalid looked carefully, he could see the individual Dwerro regiments moving slightly.  “The books in this room are but a fraction of the knowledge stored in this place.  You think I can just allow you to browse through that.  Who knows what you will deliberately or accidentally unleash?”

“Ah, yes, well, “Khalid interrupted, trying to calm down the situation, “surely there is some accommodation we can reach?  What we seek is not dangerous.”

A little of the belligerence seemed to seep out of Nargamon.  “So little time,” he muttered, almost under his breath.  “There's so much to do and so little time.”

“Ah, pardon me?” Khalid asked carefully.

“There's no point in lying to you.” Nargamon said finally, his cross eyed gaze focusing on Khalid.  “Do you know what this is?” he asked as he picked up an open book on his desk and tossed it to Khalid.  

He studied the images on the page below him, but couldn't make any sense of what appeared to be Dwerro runes etched around the strange images pressed into the thin sheets of bound bronze.  “Ah, no, I don't” Khalid was forced to concede as he set the book down.

“I didn't think you would,” Nargamon said somewhat condescendingly.  “It is a type of siege engine called a bombard, and it makes those trebuchets out there look like slingshots.  It uses a potent alchemical mixture of crushed stone and metal that the Dwerro call...well, I guess the closest translation would be “sun smoke”.  This book predates the Dwerro isolation and trust me when I say that they have improved upon the design in their absence.  The ones pictured in the book could throw a ten pound ball five hundred yards with enough force to kill a knight.  The three that approach the city are five times the size.  My divinations have revealed that the Dwerro preparations are almost complete and soon the devices will be assembled outside the city walls.  When that happens...”

“The Dwerro will pound the city walls ta dust faster than you can patch em up again.” Gorak finished for him.

“Precisely.”  Nargamon smirked, the edges of his smile tinged with desperation. “In a little less than a week, Caer Morag will fall.”


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Great work EN, and great to see this story alive and kicking again. This is definitely one of my favourite stories extant on these boards. Hope you can keep the updates coming ...


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## wolff96

I have to admit, I like the attitude of Nargamon.  He's got to be at his wits end, barely protecting his city and KNOWING it will soon fall...  and here come these PCs to complicate things.  

Great to see this story hour contine, EternalNewbie.  I love your characterizations and description.


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## EternalNewbie

wolff96 said:


> I have to admit, I like the attitude of Nargamon.




Heh.  Well, that makes one of us.  I absolutely hate the bastard .  But in all honesty, most of that is residual from the first campaign played in this world where I had to rescue his sorry hide from an Ogre Magi that was holding him 'hostage', almost getting burned alive by a bunch of suicidal goblins in the process. (Turned out he was macking it up with her the whole time.  As bad as that sounds, he was getting the better part of that deal - I think Nargamon's charisma is somewhere just north of 5 or so).

Anyhow, another little update to keep the story rolling along.

* * * * * * * * *​
“So why don't you take care of that?” Shayla asked.  “You know,” she wiggled her fingers at him. “Boom.”

“Ah, because he is not the master of this place,” Khalid said, his eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“I am the Master here,” Nargamon barked, banging his fist on the table as he rose to his feet.  Struggling briefly to master his emotions, he sat back down slowly.  He stared at Khalid with obvious annoyance.  “Now.” he finished, grudgingly.  “I can keep them from getting through the city walls but I can not defeat an entire army or obviously I would have done so already.” He turned his withering gaze on Shayla.  “By now, they may have discovered the Key, as we have.   Even if they haven't, they're bound to have a few relics scattered throughout the troops.  Most of the artifacts were removed from this place by the time I arrived, and those books which would be truly useful are heavily warded and quite possibly beyond my skill.  It is far too dangerous.”

“Your apprentices?” Gorak grunted.

“Useless.  You were skilled enough to make it past the Dwerro and over the wall, so I'd wager than not one of them has more than a third of your ability.  He looked at Khalid condescendingly.  “Well, half anyhow.”

“Have you told the people of the city?  The generals or commanders or whatever of the army?”

“What's the point?  There's nothing they can do about it.  Even if the soldiers, and I use that term in the loosest possible sense, could break out, the refugees would never make it.  And where would they go?”

“You have to tell them,” Shayla insisted.

“Look.  Have you ever taken a bunch of rats, thrown them in a cage and shook it really hard?”

“Obviously not.”

“Yeah, well if you want a idea of what it's like, go down there and tell those people what I just told you.  You'll get a real good look at what desperate people will do to one another, when they're caught in a trap.”

“Ah, yes, quite.”  Khalid muttered.  “So you want us to stop the caravan then?”

“I don't care what you do,” Nargamon snapped.  “I'm just telling you that, in about six days, Dwerro soldiers are going to be traipsing through the streets of Caer Morag.  And when that happens, I'm going to destroy this tower and get the hell out of here.”

“You can knock down this tower but you can't blow up a few fancy catapults?” Shayla asked.

“That's easier than you might think.  Around here, all you have to do is open the wrong door and...” He wiggled his fingers in a mocking little imitation of her. “Boom.”

“Yes, but provided we can intercept these devices before, yes, before they reach the city, you will permit us access to the books here?”

“Maybe.  That still depends on what you're looking for.”

“The secret, yes, secret to forging adamantium.  Or failing that, whatever information exists on a mountain, yes, a mountain called Martok.  It was once a Dwerro citadel.”

Nargamon shrugged.  “Well, that sounds like the sort of stuff that you'd find here but I can't promise you that you'll locate the answers you seek.”

“But you'll allow us to look,” Shayla pressed.

“Sure,” Nargamon relented finally.  “That seems harmless enough.  If metalworking and ancient Dwerro culture are really that important to you, then who am I to stand in the way?”

“Excellent.” Khalid exclaimed as he studied the map on the wall carefully.  “Then it makes sense, yes, sense to hit them here, at the furthest distance between the army at Caer Morag and the garrison at the bridge to Westgate.”

“Here.”  Gorak poked his finger at the map.  “It's about half way between, and the forest looks like it comes up real close to the road.  Good place to retreat back to.”

“If you want my advice,” Nargamon interrupted, “and the lost gods know you need it, I'd stay away from that forest if I were you.  It has a particularly unpleasant reputation.”

“Don't worry yer pretty little head over us,” Gorak growled. “We can take care of ourselves.

“Oh I'm not worried.  Not about you anyhow.  Now, if you wouldn't mind planning your collective suicide someplace else, I have work to do.”  Nargamon rather pointedly returned to the scroll in front of him.

They let themselves out and were met at the bottom of the stairs by Kaleb.  He inclined his head slightly, and gestured down the hall.  “Nargamon has offered you use of four rooms within the tower, if you wish.  He presumes that you will not be departing the city until tomorrow.”

Not really wanting to spend the evening within the magical portal if they did not have to, they took Nargamon up on his offer.  In truth, the rooms were only slightly more comfortable than the barren magical shelter, but anything was a welcome change to that flat gray expanse.  They rose early in the morning, but saw no trace of either Kaleb or their host.  Khalid prepared while the others packed up their belongings.  Without a word, the guards at the front let them out, locking the gate behind them.  They picked a random street and headed south, having decided the best way out of the city lay in that direction and the dubious safety of the woods.  Not willing to risk a forced landing on in the middle of the army, Khalid insisted that they get as close to the walls as possible.

They walked quickly through the city.  Khalid stared straight ahead, not wanting to see the faces of the doomed.  Even if they were successful in thwarting the Dwerro this time, it would surely only delay the inevitable.  His sorrow was tinged with more than a little guilt as the only thing he truly wanted to do was use his powers to flee this place and never return.  Absorbed in his own thoughts, Khalid glanced up and realized he'd led them astray as they came out to the city wall in the southwest corner of the city.  Gorak scowled and pushed past him, taking up the lead and following the wall along its length.  The streets here were mostly deserted, littered with rubble and debris from the unrelenting siege.  The Dwerro had not yet taken up the day's assault and for the moment, the streets were strangely quiet.  They traced their way along the wall for while, before coming upon a group of soldiers huddled around a small cook fire in the ruins of a building.  The men glanced up at their approach, but didn't even bother to challenge them, returning their attention back to the thin gruel that bubbled over the fire.   Khalid couldn't help but sympathize.   Of all the places in the city to be stationed, they had been charged with defending a brutally weakened section of the fortifications.  Ahead, the wall bulged out dangerously, the huge stones at its base cracked and uneven.  The shattered remains of the guard tower than anchored it to the next part of the wall lay mingled with the rubble of the houses it had crushed when it toppled.  There was little doubt that when the siege engines resumed the assault, the Dwerro engineers would focus their missiles here.

Gorak glanced at the pathetic looking soldiers and muttered something under his breath.  He shrugged the worn wicker basket off his shoulder, and turned to face the wall.  Curling his hands into fists slowly, popping each knuckle in turn, he leaned forward and placed his hands on the wall.  Lowering his head slightly, he began to chant, a low rumbling growl deep in his chest.  Beneath his hands, the stone began ripple outwards, like waves in a pond.  The cracks disappeared and the wall straightened as the huge blocks melded together.  When the last syllable rolled from his lips, Gorak stood before a smooth expanse of unblemished stone.

In typical fashion, Gorak didn't even look back as he picked up his gear and set off down the road.  Khalid glanced back over his shoulder, before joining him.  The soldiers were all watching them, but not one moved or spoke.  With a sigh, Khalid hurried to catch up.  Even stone didn't last long in the face of indomitable Dwerro will; how could these men endure?  He forced his mind away from such depressing thoughts, occupying himself the rest of the hike reviewing the spells he was about to cast.  They left in the same manner as they arrived, this time heading due south and landing in the band of woods along the near bank of the great river that split the kingdom.  Turning west immediately, they rode Khalid's summoned mounts when possible, but were forced to walk as often as not, while Gorak scouted overhead.   Trying to stay close enough to see the road as they traveled, more than once they were forced to move deep into the woods, to the banks of the river, to pass Dwerro patrols.  At first Khalid feared that the road would be too heavily traveled to permit them to assail the caravan, but as the days passed, they saw fewer Dwerro soldiers.  On the third day, Gorak scouted ahead and determined the forest came no closer to the road then where they were.

Khalid surveyed the area critically.  The road was still a good two hundred yards away from the bush here.  The space between was covered in the knee high stalks of last years growth, and the green shoots of spring.  A gentle slope led down to the road, bordered by a thin ditch on the far side, that would provide only the illusion of cover, should the plan Khalid was considering play out.

Gorak swooped down and changed form.  “It ain't much,” he grunted.  “If we press on, maybe we can still trap 'em on the bridge from Westgate.”

“Perhaps,” Khalid replied.  “But we, ah, do not know exactly where the caravan is.  We may come upon it in poor location.  And following, yes, following the caravan for any period of time exposes us to the risk of discovery.  Yes, quite.”

“Maybe,” Shayla said eyeing the area skeptically.  “But how are we going to keep them from rushing over top of us.  I'm not sure Azarek's charm is quite sufficient for the task.”  She shot him a wry smirk.

“Jes try me, darling,” he rasped with a wink.

“Ah, yes, well, I have a few ideas about that,” Khalid offered.  “And I think the element of surprise, dropping out of thin air, is too valuable to risk.”

“Yeah, I got a few tricks that should help,” Gorak rumbled.  “This might work out okay, if yer stuck on it.”

“Indeed.”

They set to work planning from the security of Khalid's magical shelter.  Gorak ranged out frequently, scouting the roads for any sign of the Dwerro column.  The next day, late in the afternoon, he climbed up through the portal, his expression grim.  “They're close,” he growled.  “They ain't going no further tonight, but they'll be here bright and early in the morning I'd wager.”

Shayla didn't miss the look on his face.  “How many?” she asked.

“There's one big bitch of a wagon, and about thirty Dwerro,” he grunted.  “At least.  I couldn't tell how many more might be in the back of that behemoth they've got carrying those things.”

“So we're gonna do this then?”  Shayla looked at Khalid.

“Ah, what choice do we have?” Khalid said with a confidence he didn't feel.  He knew the caravan would be guarded, but he had desperately hoped there would be fewer.  “I cannot help but feel as though we must try, for the sake, yes, sake of the city.”  Azarek stared at him intently, but said nothing.

Gorak looked at Khalid, then nodded and turned to Shayla.  “I agree.” he grunted.  “We've gotta try.  The forest is close; we can outrun them if we have to.  With a portal prepared we should be able to hide and regroup.”  

Huddled in a circle, they went over their plan in detail again before turning in for the night.  Sleep eluded Khalid for some time, as he considered the danger they faced.  He finally managed to drift off only to be woken a few hours later by the toe of Gorak's boot as he headed out to watch the road.  Khalid's grogginess faded almost instantly, his thoughts turning quickly to the task that lay ahead.  He dug out his battered spellbook and began to study.  Azarek grunted and rolled over, muttering something about waking him up when it was time to fight, promptly falling back asleep.  Shayla, despite having no need to prepare, yawned and stretched, sitting up and leaning back against the invisible boundary of the spell.  The minutes dragged past while Khalid silently mouthed the formulae to his most powerful spells, committing the calculations to memory.  He finished before Gorak returned, fortunately, but then was immediately faced with the prospect of the long terrible wait before imminent violence.   With Azarek's low rumbling snore marking the passage of each second, time seemed to crawl.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, Khalid spoke, “Ah, does it bother you at all, that the Dwerro have started this war, ah, for you basically and here we sit, preparing to thwart them.”  The instant the words left his mouth, he regretted than. 

Shayla, who had been staring off into the dim horizons of the pocket dimension slowly focused on him.  “They're not doing it for me,” she said softly.  “Or for the memory of the elves.  Or for honor.  These wretched creatures lost that a long, long time ago.” The corner of her lip curled slightly as a look of disgust crossed her beautiful face.  “It's guilt that drives them.  It consumes them.  The whole race.  It's festered in them for four hundred years and they've convinced themselves that this will make it all better.  But it won't.  It's woven into the fabric of their identity and they'll never tear themselves free.  Believe me when I tell you that this isn't going to end here.  They'll sweep across this land, and whatever kingdoms lie to the east.  And when they hit the great sea, they'll turn around and come back for us.  And you know what the really sad thing is?” she asked him, not waiting for an answer.  “Some day, their children are going to harvest the same bitter fruit as those poor wretches in Caer Morag.  

“Of course,” she continued, a fiery spark rising into her eyes.  “A few of them are gonna reap it a hell of a lot sooner.”

No sooner had she finished when Gorak poked his head through the opening.  “It's time,” he growled.  “Let's go.”

Khalid's heart began to hammer in his chest.  The hair on the back of his neck rose and he immediately glanced at Shayla.  He could feel the charge in the air, almost see the magical weaves gathering around her as she relaxed her self imposed restraints.  The gleam in her eyes turned into a raging fire.  “Well boys?” she asked coyly, a devilish smile playing across her lips.  “Are you ready to have some fun?”


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

> “Well boys?” she asked coyly, a devilish smile playing across her lips. “Are you ready to have some fun?”




  

Well, I hope we don't have to wait too long to find out!


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## TaranTheWanderer

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Well, I hope we don't have to wait too long to find out!




Well, I think EN has the next few parts as a rough draft...unfortunately, he's going to be away for a few weeks - touring France, I beleive.  I'll bug Galeman to post a map of the world in the meantime.  That is, if people are interested, and if Galeman has some time to kill...


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## The Axe

*One vote for the map*



TaranTheWanderer said:


> Well, I think EN has the next few parts as a rough draft...unfortunately, he's going to be away for a few weeks - touring France, I beleive.  I'll bug Galeman to post a map of the world in the meantime.  That is, if people are interested, and if Galeman has some time to kill...




I'd like to see the map---bug him for us, eh.


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## Galeman

A map, eh?  As Taran and the rest should clearly know, mapping is not my forte.  I will have to see if there is anything lying around that I'd be willing to share.  Most of my maps are local and crudely drawn but what would seem to be a class of 4 year olds.


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## EternalNewbie

Since Galeman hasn't got around to posting a map yet, I'll try and describe the area we're in right now (given my track record on updates, I can't exactly criticize him - really, I don't even remember if we had ever had an 'official' map for the game, just sketches here and there.  Gorak and I have played in the world before and have a pretty good idea of where everything is without a map, and the only map Shayla cares about is the battlemat, preferably with 4 or 5 enemies on it, nicely grouped in a 20 ft radius )

In the center of this 'kingdom' is a huge temperate forest (I don't recall there being any strong central authority in this part of the world - like the West it was just a loose collection of city-states, at least by the time we showed up).  The forest is ringed by a diamond shaped road (wider on the east-west axis then on the north-south one), with a city on each of the east, north and west points.  On the west point is 'Westgate' which guards the main pass through the mountains (the mountains run almost due north-south - this is the same pass we entered Malakai's caves from).  On the north point of the diamond is Caer Morag and on the east point is a city called 'The Hub'.  I don't recall if there was a city on the southern road, but if there was, it was razed by the Dwarves before we arrived in the East (there was a fairly important castle a few days south of Westgate as well, which was one of the first places to fall).  From what I remember, the south was mostly empty grassland, populated by some barbarian tribes, but none of the campaigns ever really ventured down there).

Running east-west through the middle of the 'diamond' (and the forest) was a fairly large river - I believe it came out of the mountains north of Westgate (there was an important bridge just east of Westgate) and then turned east through the forest, passing to the south of Caer Morag and the Hub.  North of Caer Morag was the bulk of the human settlements in this part of the world, small scattered towns and hamlets, mostly grassland with some smaller forests.  A little further north is a band of coniferous forest that splits the grassland from the northern tundra (we skirted around the western edge of this forest, when we traveled from Martok down to Caer Morag).

At this point in the campaign, I think we were vaguely aware of another kingdom, east of the Hub (none of the characters have any sort of geography knowledge), connected by a land bridge (maybe 20-50 miles across - it never got so narrow that you could see the ocean on both sides at the same time.  Might have been wider, I don't exactly recall).

Hopefully that's not too confusing - Galeman and Taran can correct me if I've got any of the details wrong.  The next update is in progress but it'll be a little while before it's finished - it's a fairly important one, and I want to make sure I do it justice.


----------



## Galeman

Just a few things there.  "Westgate" is just a western interpretation of the western cities name, Drak'nor.  The river that flows through the kingdom is known as the Saltrine and the wood is called the Brentwood.


----------



## EternalNewbie

Khalid, following Azarek's monosyllabic instructions, hastily assisted him into his armor.  Having been at best, a mediocre student of own profession, the intricacies of the buckles and straps that distributed the massive weight of the armor completely baffled him.  Unable to tolerate his nervous fumbling for long, Azarek finally pushed Khalid away and finished the task himself.  Shayla followed Gorak out of the portal while Khalid gathered up his belongings.  Dropping out of the portal right on Shayla's heels, he immediately pressed himself flat to the ground.  He raised his head up and quickly glanced to the west, blinking in the morning light.  A dust cloud of considerable size hovered over the road, heralding the imminent arrival of the military convoy.  Startled by the proximity, Khalid hurriedly launched into his preparations, casting a spell then reaching out and touching Shayla on the shoulder.  With barely a breath between, he drew out a scroll, frowning slightly as he spoke the final words of activation.  Pilfered from the clutches of Ruwayd's captor, it was a spell he was unfamiliar with and had never had the chance to fully study, but given the circumstances he was willing to expend it.  Again, he reached out and granted the magic to Shayla.

Gorak and Azarek were similarly involved, while Shayla kept a watch on the approaching Dwerro.  Azarek was planting arrows point first in a semi-circle around himself within easy reach, while Gorak, kneeling in front of Khalid, growled out the words to a spell with his hands buried in the damp earth.  Khalid searched around, picking out the markers Gorak had set the night before that indicated the boundaries of their first line of defense.  Crawling up beside Gorak, Khalid completed the last of his defensive wards, and tried to flatten himself as low to the ground as he could.  Azarek and Shayla mimicked him, their eyes on Gorak, who remained crouched, watching the road.  

The seconds that followed felt like hours while they waited for Gorak's signal.  Unable to clearly see the road through the grass, the sounds of the approaching Dwerro were more than enough to tear at Khalid's fragile courage.  Through the rising din, his mind worked to make sense of the chaos; the grate of flexing armor, weapons clanking, the snorts and grunts of the boarish mounts, a knights raucous laugh, and above all, the measured beat of the infantry's march.  Sweat slicked Khalid's palms and dripped down his face, and his mouth dried to the point he worried he would be unable to fulfill his role in the looming battle.  Briefly, his spirits soared as he contemplated the possibility that Gorak too had lost his nerve and would let the caravan pass.  He should have known better.

Gorak raked his hand across the earth, shouting words of power, and ripping open a shallow trench in the earth in front of him, that spread along the ground, parallel to the road.  A vast, howling gale erupted from the elemental rift, flattening the grass around them, and stripping the battered hat from Khalid's head.  Shayla rose up from the grass, not stopping as she stood, flying into the air under the power of Khalid's spell.  Her blazing curls danced in the wind, like the flickering flames that played across her long, delicate fingers.  Power resonating in her beautiful voice, she halted in the air, and leveled her hand at the Dwerro.  In an instant, half a dozen of the mail clad infantry vanished in a ball of fire, the glowing remains of their armor and weapons clattering to the scorched earth.

The Dwerro reacted like the professional soldiers they were, scattering into the ditch on the other side of the road while the screams of their comrades still hung in the air.  The four knights at the head of the column spurred their porcine mounts into a charge, and cut directly towards them, seeking to come around their left flank.  From the rear of the troupe, the fur clad battleragers rolled to their right, drawing out wicked two handed axes as they ran.  Clearly, they sought to encircle the ambushers, driving them against the line of infantry and the metal plated wagon.  Just like Azarek and Gorak had predicted.  	

Both groups hit Gorak's defensive works at the same time; piercing squeals from the mounts mingled with the shouted curses of the skirmishers. The blades of grass in front of them had grown razor sharp and hard as steel at Gorak's urging.  Invisible against the foliage, the  magical trap shredded the soft under pad of the boars hooves and sliced through the soles of the Dwerro boots.  The mounts bucked and reared, sending two of the knights tumbling to the ground.  The others tried desperately to control their resisting mounts under Azarek's steady gaze as he drew back his bow.  Loosing an arrow, one of the knights screamed out in pain as the arrow sunk deep into his upper thigh, between the plates of his armor.

Barely raising his head about the scant cover of the grass, Khalid called out the words to a spell, gesturing at the skirmishers on their right.  Already wounded and hobbled by Gorak's trap, they were rendered practically immobile as a blinding explosion in their midst coated them with golden dust.  On the other side of the road, the infantry tried to find cover from Shayla as they fitted bolts to their crossbows.  Firing in unison, most of the volley of bolts was scattered by the force of the gale roaring  in front of her.  The sole bolt that made it through exploded in a shower of sparks as it impacted on the defensive spell Khalid had enacted from the scroll.

Shayla kept her attention on the infantry as Gorak raised his hands into the air, calling again on the fury of the elements.  The grass on the opposite side of the road began to flail about, seizing hold of several of the Dwerro that were mustering to charge, and pinning them to the ground.  Azarek reached for another arrow and fired, then cursed in anger as a knight's hastily raised shield deflected it.  Seeing the knights whipping their mounts frantically, forcing them through knife-like grass, Khalid opened a gate over their heads, smothering them in noxious fumes and causing them to retch and gasp for air.   Launching into another spell, Khalid's voice mingled with Gorak and Shayla's, spells rolling from their lips with barely a pause for breath between.  Above, the rumble of thunder threatened from the clear  sky at Gorak's call, while Shayla incinerated another group of the crossbowmen.  A sharp report split the reverberated through the air as a stroke of lightening arced down from the sky and electrocuted a lagging berserker.  

Inside the giant wagon, the drivers lashed at the massive pigs straining in their traces, urging them forward; straight into another of Gorak's traps.  It proved barely effective however, as the huge beasts seemed unfazed by the thick mud the encountered.  Oblivious to the noise and chaos around them, the boars plodded on, dragging the wagon through the mire, hardly slowing despite the enormous weight of their metal barding and the pull of the caravan.  Their cover rolling away, and their formation broken by the savage attack, the remaining archers began to fire as quickly as each could reload.  Reserving her more powerful spells, she eviscerating a cowering archer with a handful of shining magical discs.  Foiled by the magic protecting Shayla, the archers turned their attention on Gorak.  The wall of wind scattered most of the bolts, but not all and Gorak's bark-like armor failed him.  He flinched aside as one dug a furrow in his leg, then staggered back as a bolt lodged in the thick muscles of his shoulder.  Shrugging off the wound, he called down another blast of lightening, half blinding Khalid as it touched the feathered crest of a knights helm.  Smoke boiled out from the cracks in his armor, as the Dwerro slid off his mount, tumbling to the earth to lie shaking and twitching at the feet of his mount.

Azarek, still in a kneeling position, drew back his compound bow for another shot.  Ignoring the crossbowmen, who where being systematically destroyed by Gorak and Shayla, Khalid returned his attention to the berserkers.  Repeating the words to his last spell, Khalid tore open another gateway, drenching the flanking skirmishers in toxic fumes.  Blinded and sickened, they staggered helplessly through Gorak's spell, streaming blood as the blade-like grass continued to pierce their feet.  Khalid stuck his head up, and surveyed the battle quickly, for the first time beginning to hope they might actually prevail.  The attackers on their flanks were incapacitated, and would be for some time.  Gorak and Shayla were handling the crossbowmen while Azarek fired relentlessly at any target that was presented.  Considering his next move, Khalid was about to launch into another spell when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye; the air shimmered and warped in an all too familiar way as a Dwerro unlike any Khalid had seen before materialized beside him.  Clad in a gold embossed cuirass crossed with a crimson sash and cloak, the Dwerro's skin was as dark as Gorak's.  The polished steel helm left the lower part of the warrior's face uncovered, and a long white mustache hung down almost to his belt.  Khalid absorbed all of this in an instant, before focusing on the huge warhammer that was descending rapidly towards his head.  The Dwerro's battlecry mingled with Khalid's shriek as he rolled out of the way.  Blue sparks erupted from the ground as the hammer thudded into the earth in the spot where Khalid's head had been only a second before.  

“Azarek! Gorak! Help me!” Khalid cried shamelessly as he struggled to get to his feet and away from the threat.  In a scene straight out of one of his many nightmares, the implacable Dwerro advanced, milk white eyes narrowed in rage and hammer held high for another blow.  Khalid knew it had been nothing more than luck that saved him from the first blow.  The Dwerro would not miss again.  Raising his hands in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable, Khalid closed his eyes in anticipation of the end.

The clear ring of steel on steel split the air.  Amazed to discover he was still alive, Khalid opened his eyes to find Azarek standing over him, shield raised protectively.  Thwarted again, the Dwerro spat out a vile curse as Azarek drew his sword.  Oblivious to the chaos around them, the two warriors circled warily, probing for a weakness.

Gorak, too pragmatic to be concerned with the niceties of a fair fight, glanced over his shoulder and broke the stalemate with the flick of his hand.  A bolt of lightning flashed down and blasted the Dwerro, sending him reeling backwards.  Azarek seized the advantage and lashed out, smashing a deep rent in the Dwerro's breastplate.  Dazed and wounded, the Dwerro mumbled out a word of command through numb lips as he leveled a blow at Azarek.  Stepping into the swing to steal the force of the blow, Azarek caught the hammer on his shield.  Again blue sparks erupted with a thunderous detonation, but whatever the intended effect, Azarek's inhuman will shrugged it off.

Overhead, Shayla continued to rain down destruction on the cowering soldiers.  Gesturing at the berserkers, she incinerated them in a blast of flame, briefly burning away the foul smoke that enveloped them.  Khalid, freed from any immediate peril, took the opportunity to blind a pair of archers that had failed to put enough distance between themselves.  Another bolt of lightening directed by Gorak eliminated one of the remaining knights and Shayla finished off the other with a jet of white hot flame.

Seeing few opponents remaining, Khalid looked to the caravan, rumbling away to the east.  “Shayla!” he shouted above the howling wind.  “We've got to stop, yes, stop the caravan!  Kill one of the boars!”  Finishing off the last of the archers with a stream of glittering darts, Shayla looked down and nodded, willing herself over the gale and after the wagon.

Gorak glanced up and shouted, “Wait damn you! Don't go alone!” but his words were lost in the roar of the wind.  Turning to follow, a grunt from Azarek pulled him up short.  The Dwerro warrior, hardier than he appeared, had shrugged off the initial assault, and was slowly gaining the advantage on Azarek.  Limping slightly, Azarek raised his battered shield to deflect another blow, staggering backwards as the Dwerro's swing clipped the bottom and slammed into his ribs, crumpling the edge of his breastplate and driving it deep into his side.  Reeling, Azarek's feeble counterattack was easily turned aside as the Dwerro pressured him relentlessly.

With a growl, Gorak spat out the words to a spell, his eyes still on Shayla.  As his hand burst into flame, he flicked a glowing cinder directly into the face of the Dwerro.  Only his hastily raised hands prevented the warrior from being blinded, as the searing flame burned his arms.  Forced to fight two opponents, the Dwerro immediately went on the offensive, trying to best Azarek and even the odds.  Backpedaling, Azarek took blow after blow on his shield, while Gorak stalked the warrior from behind, burning him badly each time he saw opening in the Dwerro's failing defenses.  The Dwerro, recognizing the threat too late, turned and swung and Gorak, driven him backwards with a  powerful blow from his hammer.  Azarek leapt forward and swung with all his strength, smashing his sword into the Dwerro's helm.  The metal crumpled and buckled beneath the force, like the Dwerro himself.  He slide to the ground, hammer falling from nerveless fingers.

Not sparing a moment for the fallen foe, Gorak jumped into the air, his body blurring into the form of an eagle as he sought to catch up to Shayla.  Hindered now by their defenses, Khalid and Azarek were forced to circle around, to avoid the trap.  Shayla reached the wagon, and was about to fly past it to deal with the draft animals, when a hatch on the roof popped open and a Dwerro, holding a massive crossbow, emerged.  Before Shayla could alter her course, the Dwerro aimed and fired.

For an instant, Khalid was sure the Dwerro had misfired.  The bolt tumbled through the air well  over her.  Like Shayla, he recognized the danger too late, when the projectile burst and a weighted silken net dropped over her.  Struggling frantically, Shayla thrust an arm through the bonds and screamed out words of power, her voice shrill and panicked.  A sizzling line of flame skipped across the metal plates on the roof, narrowly missing the rope and the Dwerro holding it, who promptly vanished into the wagon, closing the hatch with a bang.  In unison, a half dozen slots opened up on the sides of the behemoth and a volley of bolts soared into the air. A shower of sparks and debris exploded around Shayla as the bolts impacted on her magical shield.  Khalid couldn't believe that the magic held.  Until Shayla looked up, straight at him.  Against her pale white skin, he could see blood streaming from the the terrible gash on the side of her face.

Khalid was close enough to hear the twang of the bows when the second volley flew out.  This time, there were no sparks.  Shayla stopped struggling, going limp as she slowly spiraled to the ground, still being dragged behind the caravan.   Fear seizing his heart, Khalid ran heedlessly towards the wagon, while Gorak dived down from above and reverted back to his natural form.  Bolts whizzed past, as Khalid reached him.  Azarek, hindered by his clanking armor, ran past, still favoring his right leg.  Holding his shield out he tried to offer cover while Gorak struggled to cut the rope.  Seeing their assailants give up the pursuit, the Dwerro released the cord, hoping to leave their pursuers behind.

Gorak roared out the words to one of his most potent restorative spells, but when he touched her wounds, they didn't mend or close.  Standing up, he grabbed hold of Azarek, who gasped, then stood up straighter, placing weight on his wounded leg.  With murderous rage in his eyes, Gorak ran blindly  after the caravan.  Stunned as the realization of what had happened settled in, Khalid knew he couldn't abandon Gorak, and turned to follow.  Azarek cursed, and struggled to keep up.

In the rear of the caravan, a ramp opened, falling with a crash to bounce and jump along behind.  For a brief instant, they could see straight into the belly of the beast, before five armored Dwerro, with huge tower shields stomped out of the back, in perfect lockstep.  The ramp was drawn up, and the Dwerro, each dressed in a thick coat of mail and carrying light spear, formed into a phalanx in the center of the road.   Gorak slowed to consider the threat, but Khalid ran right past him.  Unfortunately, for the Dwerro, their carefully planned positioning turned out to be a terrible mistake.  Skidding to a halt, Khalid thrust out his hands and shouted out the words to a spell.  A chaotic torrent of blinding color swirled around the Dwerro warriors, overwhelming their senses.  Shields and spears dropped from nerveless fingers as the soldiers toppled over, rendered senseless from the magic.

Approaching the wagon, the grim reality of the situation became painfully evident.  Bolts continued to sail past, coming dangerous close.  “So whadda we gonna do wit this bitch when we catch er?” Azarek cursed, as he deflected a bolt harmlessly away with his shield.  “Knock politely?”

“Khalid?” Gorak growled, trying to staunch the flow of blood from the wound in his shoulder.  He was breathing heavily, and blood soaked his leather jerkin, dripping steadily into a growing pool at his feet.

Khalid wracked his brain for any possibility, any hope that might remain.  But this time, there was no goblin fire oil; no scroll to bluff with; no wand to block the caravan's passage.  “I have nothing left,” Khalid replied weakly.  “My powers, yes, are exhausted.”

Gorak, hands clenched into fists, threw his head back and howled in rage at the uncaring sky.  The three of them stood in the middle of the road, watching helplessly as the dust shrouded wagon trundled  slowly away to the east.  Tears of grief and frustration welled up in Khalid's eyes as the evidence of their failure rolled inexorably onwards to Caer Morag, while the price they had paid to achieve it lay unmoving on the ground behind.

* * * * * * * * * *​
Notes:
This was a great fight, despite the outcome.  Shayla just made the mistake of assuming that, since I've been playing D&D for years, I actually know what I'm talking about (which is rarely the case).  We should have been expecting some type of anti-wizard defense, but nobody was really expecting a net.  Worse still, I remember watching Galeman roll - I think he critted her 4 or 5 times and went through something like 70 pts of protection from arrows, and about 25 hps in 2 or 3 rounds.  At the end, I had no offensive spells left, after the color spray, and Gorak was around 1hp, with no cures left.

I also remember Galeman hinting that he didn't think we'd actually attack that many Dwerro  and *something* that we did, tipped our hand and cost us the surprise round.  We went first, but didn't get the surprise round - which meant Shayla was only able to get one fireball off before they all scattered.  I think if we'd surprised them, we'd have probably won but it was still nice to see our plan work pretty much the way we expected it too.  Except for the dying and the losing of course.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Owww!

Great fight, but a bummer of an outcome 



			
				EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> I also remember Galeman hinting that he didn't think we'd actually attack that many Dwerro




 But we're talking D&D PCs here ... turn down a fight? Never! 

Looking forward to more.


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## Crazy Eights

*cough* Bump! *cough* 

Sorry, couldn't help myself. Any chance we could get another update, EN?


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## Galeman

Well, we just got back together for another epic game earlier in August.  I know the story is running through Newb's mind, but he's struggling with an aspect of the next section.  I suggest a continual bombardment of threats, insults and emasculating remarks until he posts.


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## EternalNewbie

Khalid picked his way carefully beneath the boughs of the great trees, the events of the previous day weighing heavily on his mind.  Azarek and Gorak had taken out their anger on the unconscious Dwerro, offering them the same quarter offered human soldiers.  Amidst the carnage, they were somewhat surprised to discover that the strange looking Dwerro had survived.  Badly wounded, he apparently stayed conscious long enough to staunch the worst of his wounds, before lapsing into a coma.  Stripped, bandaged and bound under Azarek's watch, they decided to keep him alive for questioning, assuming he was some sort of leader, or elite commando.  After leading them safely into the woods, Gorak had shifted form and set off for Caer Morag to inform Nargamon of their failure.

He hadn't come out here to brood, he didn't have that luxury, but inevitably his thoughts turned to Shayla.  Her death had brought the grim realities of their situation crashing down and while he grieved for her as deep as he grieved for his own parents when they passed, he knew that now, more than ever, he had to rely on his own strength to thwart his enemies.  And therein lay the problem.  His research hinted at power exponentially greater than he now wielded, but the only method of unlocking it required holding four complex formula in his mind at once.  His only attempt to achieve that level of power had bordered on the catastrophic, and since then, he had struggled for weeks to simplify the spell, to no avail.

The situation had changed and the solution now lay within his grasp.  He recognized the expanding boundaries of his ability, the fruit of the relentless honing in the face of powerful and determined foes.  Forced to concentrate beyond reason, he had channeled more raw energy in yesterday's titanic struggle  than ever before.  The intricate arcane words rolled almost unceasingly from his tongue throughout the entire battle, and when they were finally turned away in defeat, his voice had been so hoarse from chanting, he could barely speak.

Khalid knew that the time had come to once again test the limits of his skill.  Settling to his knees in the center of a sun dappled clearing, he took a deep breath and focused his thoughts inward.  An image of Shayla, drifting down slowly through the air, shattered his calm.  Sighing heavily, Khalid opened his eyes and took in the beauty around him.  Everywhere, lush green trees swayed in the breeze, while a long butterfly danced and flitted between the shafts of golden sunlight streaming through the branches overhead.  Had she been here, Shayla would have...well, probably been bored to tears.  The thought brought a wry grin to his face.

Abandoning his work for a moment, he closed his eyes and slipped back into reverie.  Memories of Shayla bubbled up from the turmoil in his mind.  The first time he met her, standing in the doorway of his tiny hovel in Gem-Sharad.  His smile broadened as he remembered the shock he felt at her appearance in Gorak's camp.  The casual ease with which she abandoned her life of luxury to join two shiftless vagrants of questionable moral character had confounded him at first, until he got to know her.  He'd met few other people for whom emotion and action were so intimately entwined.  The fact that her temperament was as fiery as the magic she channeled was initially a source of chronic indigestion to him, but in time became one of her most endearing traits.  No matter what lay before them, he had always counted on her, knowing that at his side was fury, power and courage that no enemy could match.

He allowed those pleasant thoughts to occupy his mind for several minutes, finding that the memory of the passion with which she had lived her brief time blunted the sharp edge of his grief somewhat.  Relaxed, and at peace, he opened his eyes and returned his attention to the task at hand.  Chanting a simple mantra, one taught to every lowly apprentice to help clear the mind and gauge distances, he emptied his mind of all distraction.   Slipping into the strange spatial awareness that accompanied the chant, each leaf and twig leapt out at him in crisp relief.  Slowly he let his eyes unfocus and the splendor of the tiny glade faded away.  The first of the formulae leapt into his thoughts almost unbidden, followed quickly by the second.  The threads of magic began to gather around him as he struggled to hold the weave, denying it the outlet it craved.  The third formula was more difficult, and the variables began to slip away from him.  Beads of sweat began to collect on his brow, rolling down his face and dampening his scraggy black beard.  His breathing quickened as the formulas threatened run together, then evened out as he regained control.  Never before had he held so many complex calculations in his thoughts for so long.  Opening a magical conduit, shaping and controlling it took mere seconds to enact a spell.  Minutes had passed and still he maintained his focus.  Ever so slowly, he brought the fourth and final calculation into play.

It happened almost instantly.  He felt a strange sense of exhilaration as the boundaries of his consciousness expanded.  Power, heretofore unknown to him, coursed through his body.  He could practically see reality shifting around him.  The four formula settled easily in his mind and for once in his life, he did not need to struggle to control the magic, it flooded every inch of his body.  For a brief instant, he understood how Shayla must have felt.

The thought shattered his concentration and the formula vanished from his mind.  The magic evaporated from him, as quickly as it came.  Disheartened, he groaned as he stood up slowly, muscles aching from resting so long in the same position.  He turned to head back to their meager camp, then stopped.  Something was different.  With barely a thought, he reopened another conduit, easily drawing forth a small amount of power from the nether.  Even without his focus, the magic remained, enveloping him, swirling through his mind and body.  A flash of insight struck him, and for a brief moment his thoughts turned to Ruwayd.  Settling into place like the tumblers of an opened lock, the solution to a problem he hadn't even considered came to him.  Closing his eyes, he reached out into the void.

A second later, Azarek came crashing through the brush.  His shirt was open, and his long black hair, was loose, mingled with his beard.  It was clear that whatever he was doing, he had abandoned it in haste.  He held his sword, point low as he scanned the forest.  “Whut's going on!  Y'alright?”  Seeing no immediate danger, he glared at Khalid over the tips of his horns.  “If this is some kinda joke...” he growled.

_No joke.  Just an experiment._  Khalid replied.

Azarek's eyes widened.  It was obvious he had understood, even though Khalid's lips had not moved.  An evil grin replaced the look of surprise. “That's a neat trick.”

_Indeed._*

* * * * * * * * * *​
Exhausted, Khalid returned to the camp to find that Gorak had returned from Caer Morag.  All of the pride at the morning's successes vanished when he laid eyes on Shayla's unmoving form.  Gorak had wound back the blanket, and was gently cleaning her face, wiping away the dried blood.  He stopped and looked up as Khalid approached.

“Ah, you might have at least waited, yes, waited for me, before preparing her body,” he admonished.

“I did.” Gorak grunted.  “This ain't the right place.”

“Indeed.  I ventured, yes, ventured out into the forest this morning.  I think perhaps I found a suitable, yes, suitable location.”

“Good.” He gently picked up her shrouded body.  When Azarek, leaning against a tree and watching with undisguised curiosity, moved to follow, he growled.  “You stay behind.  This is personal.”  Azarek's expression hardened, but with a glance at Khalid, who nodded, he shrugged and pulled a dagger from his boot, absently paring his nails as they left the clearing.

Khalid and Gorak walked in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.  When the reached the clearing, Gorak looked around and grunted, “Yer right, this is perfect.”  He sniffed at the air.  “There's water nearby.  I'll be back.”

“Ah, should I begin, to, ah, yes, should I do anything?” Khalid asked haltingly.

Gorak didn't break stride.  “Nah.  I'll be back in a bit,” he called back over his shoulder, before vanishing into the forest.

Khalid, feeling somewhat useless, picked up where Gorak left off.  He brushed back her long auburn curls and was struck with how peaceful she looked.  The thought brought tears to his eyes.  In life, she had been anything but, and seeing her lying their, still and unmoving, bereft of the spirit and fire that had burned so brightly, overwhelmed him with sorrow.  He barely noticed when Gorak returned.  Slowly he shook off the grief that held him motionless.

Gorak walked around the clearing, digging out four polished braziers from his pack and setting them up in a diamond around the clearing.  Khalid glanced up through the trees, trying to see the sun, and was surprised to find that several hours had passed.  Blinking, he turned back to Gorak to find him laying out several smooth birch branches in a neat pile in the center of the braziers.  Watching silently for a few moments, he finally spoke, “Ah, Gorak, are you sure a pyre is appropriate?  I admit, I never discussed the topic with Shayla, but perhaps being buried here, in the forest, would be more in keeping with her heritage?”

“Let me do this my way Khalid,” he grumbled.

Respecting his wishes, Khalid withdrew slightly, and watched as he finished arranging the branches.  Over top of them, Gorak laid down a carpet of grasses and vines.  Somewhat bewildered, Khalid wracked his memory, trying to recall everything he knew about orcish funerary rights.  Having made a habit of keeping as much distance as possible between himself and Gorak's kin, he didn't come up with much, but from what he'd seen so far led him to believe that more cutlery would be involved.  Gorak continued his ritual in silence, not even acknowledging Khalid's increasingly restless presence.  Digging into the soft earth with his bare hands, he covered the pile with dirt before sprinkling the contents of his waterskin on it.  In all of his preparations, he paid no attention to her actual body, circling the mound several times before reaching into a pouch at his waist.

Khalid couldn't make out what he held in his hand, but the effect when he tossed it into the braziers was instantaneous.  Smoke, heavy and acrid burst from the pots, swirling up into the clearing.  A gust of wind blew a wisp of it into Khalid's face and he shied back instinctively, reaching to cover his nose but he found that it didn't burn his lungs as he would have expected.  In fact, it was almost...invigorating.  Apparently satisfied, Gorak shrugged off his tattered vest, stepped into the diamond and settled to his knees, facing slightly away from Khalid.  Eyes closed and head bowed, he extended his arms outward.  Slowly and rhythmically, his hands began to clench and unclench as the smoke continued to swirl from the braziers.  The slight breeze in the air should have swept the glade clear, but strangely, the smoke seemed to have a life of its own, eddying and pooling around them.

Feeling light headed from the smoke and mesmerized by the strange ceremony, Khalid couldn't have interrupted even if he had wanted to.  A rumbling drone started low in Gorak's chest, building slowly as he turned his head to the sky.  His unseeing gaze swept over Khalid, who was startled to see that his eyes had rolled back so only the whites were showing.  The smoke overhead began to swirl into a vortex above them and the hair on the back of Khalid's neck rose as he felt power unlike any he had ever experienced gathering around them.  Jets of flame erupted from the bronze braziers, leaping and dancing into the air.  Khalid realized his heart was beating in time to Gorak's flexing hands and the throbbing litany.  The sound of Gorak's voice became impossibly loud as the chant took on a life of its own, each word seemingly ripped from his throat.  Head rolling on his shoulders, the muscles in his back rippled and bunched as Gorak surrendered himself to the magic.  From the earth in front of him, a tiny shoot sprang up, grasping and searching as it slowly uncurled into the air.  It was joined by another, and then a third as the ground in front of Gorak began to writhe.  Buoyed by the surging plants, the willow branches appeared, jutting through the morass.  In an instant, vines shot upwards, snaking around wood.  The fires turned white hot and Khalid was forced to squint through the heat, while overhead the smoke boiled and churned in a whirling maelstrom.

Through the haze of smoke and throbbing chant, a thought struck Khalid and shattered his eerie calm.  Impossible as it seemed, the strange plant rising up in front of Gorak almost resembled a hand.  In a second, there was no doubt.  The construct arched to the ground as though pulling itself free from the earth, and surging in time with Gorak's voice, a head and shoulders appeared.  A sheen of mud flowed upwards over the branches as more vines and grasses wrapped themselves around the emerging skeletal frame.

Gorak arched backwards, muscles quivering as he struggled to raise his arms, mimicking the being in front of him.  The words streaming from his mouth blurred into an incoherent roar and it seemed beyond belief that his lungs could contain that much breath.   With a final surge, he jerked upright, bringing his hands together over his head.  A sound like a thunderclap split the vale, sending Khalid sprawling backwards and snuffing out the flames.  The shroud around Shayla's body collapsed as her body turned to dust.  The creature in front of Gorak turned back its head as the smoke collected into a funnel cloud, rushing down.  Silence, as oppressive as the roar of Gorak's chant, enveloped them.

Stunned and confused, Khalid clambered to his feet as Gorak pitched over, toppling one of the glowing braziers.  Blinking in the sunlight that once again flooded the clearing, Khalid shook his head, trying to make sense of what lay before him.  Curled in a tight ball on the earth, streaked with mud and leaves was the pale form of a woman.  Naked and shivering, long black hair covered her face.  Khalid refused to allow himself to hope, to believe, until she turned her face upward.  It was Shayla, there was no doubt.  And yet it wasn't.  Her features were finer, cheekbones more pronounced.  Her green eyes were now jet black and their alluring slant was now exotic, almost alien.  Where she had been slight before, now she seemed almost frail.

Transfixed, Khalid shuffled forward hesitantly. “Ah, Gorak...” His whispered voice shattered the unearthly quiet in the glade.  “What have you done?”  Gorak's only response was a tortured wheeze, as he fought weakly to push himself upright.  At the sound of his voice, Shayla's head jerked around towards him.  Looking into her eyes, the faint hope that flared within him vanished, as she stared back without recognition.  Then she began to scream.

* * * * * * * * * *​Notes:
* Woot! Let the min-maxing begin!  Nothing like a level in a front loaded prestige class to ratchet up your power level.


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## EroGaki

I'm guessing our good conjurer took a level in Mindbender?


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## EternalNewbie

EroGaki said:


> I'm guessing our good conjurer took a level in Mindbender?




He did indeed, much to Galeman's annoyance.  And not even the Complete Arcane version (it wasn't out yet) - it was the old, even more frontloaded, Tome & Blood version where you got the skill points at first level too.  I think it might have been easier to qualify for as well, but looking back over it, the updated class in the Complete Arcane is probably more powerful.  Still, I took it pretty much just for the telepathy, and it's one of those "why not" prestige classes where you don't really have to give up anything to get something fairly powerful (which Galeman isn't a fan of, and I can see why).  Although really, I don't think I've ever been clever enough to garner much of a tactical advantage with it and it did lead to a few interesting roleplaying encounters, so I don't feel too guilty about it.


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## EternalNewbie

Unable to gather his wits, Khalid stood dumbfounded by the scene before him.  Gorak lay face down in the dirt, unmoving and possibly unconscious, while Shayla, naked and shivering, huddled on the ground, screaming.  Shaking his head, a single thought pierced through his confusion.  He had to help Shayla.  Stumbling to her side, he dropped to his knees on the muddy ground and took off his tattered cloak.  Shayla didn't struggle, or even react as he draped it around her naked form and pulled her close.  She just continued to stare straight through him, emitting a keening wail that chilled his blood, her eyes focused on unseen terrors.

“Shayla,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice overcome with emotion.  “Shayla, my friend!”  Still she continued to scream, his words having no effect.   Placing his hands gently on either side of her face, he forced her to look at him and spoke again, more forcefully.  “Shayla!  It's all right.  Please come back to me.”  Her gaze settled on him, but there was no spark of recognition in her dark green eyes.  Taking a deep breath, he reached out.  _Shayla!  You are safe now. I am with you._

Shayla blinked once, looking at Khalid as though seeing him for the first time.  “Khalid?” she whispered, before collapsing against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.  Wracked with sobs, Khalid held her silently, awkwardly stroking her matted black hair.  He held her for several minutes, until she regained her composure.  As she pulled away from him, her tear stained eyes caught sight of Gorak, now struggling to get to his feet, muscles trembling with exhaustion.  The weariness that dragged on his features vanished as he turned to Shayla and Khalid.  He gave her a broad grin.  “Welcome back darling.  Miss me?” he growled, staggering to his feet and joining them.

Shayla answered by seizing him by the waist and dragging him back down to ground in a fierce hug.  The three of them sat silently for a while, oblivious to their surroundings, simply revelling in a bond they had thought broken.  After a while, Shayla leaned back and, recovering some semblance of her former self, smiled slightly.  “I bet I look absolutely terrible.”

Gorak threw a sidelong glance at Khalid, who shook his head slightly while he gnawed nervously on his lower lip.  Sighing heavily, Gorak rumbled, “About that...”

“Do I have a scar?” Shayla gasped, hands flying up to her face.

“Uh, not exactly,” Gorak replied, emptying his water skin into a small bowl from his pack and handing it to her.

“What did you do to me?” she asked quietly, staring at her reflection in the still water.  Carefully, as though she didn't quite believe her eyes, she ran her fingers over the line of her cheekbones and over the tips of her ears, brushing her jet black hair aside.

“Ah, Gorak reclaimed your spirit and returned it to the mortal realm.  You were dead.” Khalid answered, his words tinged with no small amount of awe.

Shayla frowned.  “I know that, Khalid.  I lived through that bit...or didn't, actually, but I remember.  But why like this.”

“Honestly, I dunno,” Gorak rumbled.  “Maybe its the influence of this forest or maybe that's just the way yer supposed to be.  After a while, the ritual just takes on a life of its own.”  He frowned at the absurdity of the statement.  “Well, you know what I mean.”

Staring at the water for a while, Shayla studied her new features in silence, before raising the bowl to her lips and drinking deeply.  Rising slowly to her feet, she said, “I think I'd like to get dressed now and then maybe rest for a bit.  Looking down, she offered them a wan smile.  “Well, at least you brought me back skinnier.”

With Khalid leading the way and Gorak steadying Shayla by the arm, they made their way back to camp.  Azarek stood up and sheathed his sword as Khalid approached.  “That sounded like a helluva funeral,” he growled.  “I know she were yer friend and all Khalid, but really, wailing like a women ain't no way to pay yer...” he trailed off in disbelief as Shayla stepped out from behind Khalid.

“The look on your pretty little face almost made that whole ordeal worthwhile,” Shayla said with a tired little smirk, offering a glimpse of her old self.  “Khalid, if you wouldn't mind.”  She waved her hand in the air.

“Ah, yes, certainly.”  With a few words and a gesture he opened a portal.

Azarek stared at her while she climbed up the rope and vanished.  “That yer handy work?” he grunted at Gorak, who nodded.  “Well ain't that sumtin.  I jes gotta say, when I firs laid eyes on you sorry lot, I thought that oracle was batshit crazy sending me ta you.  But after that,” he flashed them an evil grin, “well, maybe he weren't crazy after all.”

“Yeah, well, I'm ecstatic for you,” Gorak rumbled.  “But right now, we've got something else to take care of.”

“What's that?”

“Him,” Gorak grunted, pointing at the unconscious Dwerro.

“Ah, yes, Gorak, perhaps you should rest for a while.”

“I don't got that luxury.  We've gotta meet Nargamon outside the city, about a day from here.  We'll let Shayla get a few hours sleep and then we gotta move.  In the meantime, let's find out what he knows.  Get him up.”

Azarek's grin broadened.  Walking over to the bound Dwerro, he hauled their captive to his feet, rousing him with a vicious backhand.  Slamming the strange Dwerro against a tree, Azarek drove his fist into the barely conscious Dwerro's face.

Somewhat surprised by the sudden brutality, Khalid intervened.  “Ah, shouldn't we ask him some questions first?”

“Jus setting the tone of the conversation,” Azarek replied, drawing back for another blow.

Gorak stepped forward before he could deliver, hooking his arm and shoving him back.  “That's enough.  If you send him into the underworld, I'm gonna send you after him to bring him back.”  Turning to the Dwerro, he growled, “You understand me?”  The Dwerro stared at him blankly.  “What can you tell us about those devices.”  The Dwerro's only response was to spit out a mouthful of blood on his boot.  

“Great,” Azarek rasped.  “Now whut?”

“Not so fast,” Khalid said, studying the Dwerro carefully.  “I think perhaps, yes, perhaps he does understand us.  He just needs to be properly, yes, properly motivated.”

“Excellent,” Azarek growled with a grin. “My turn agin.”

“Ah, that is not exactly what I meant.  We are not asking the right questions are we, my friend,” Khalid said, addressing the Dwerro.  “What can you tell us about Martok?”

The effect on the Dwerro was immediate.  His eyes flashed open, burning with a strange hunger as he stared at Khalid.  “What you know of Martok?” he replied haltingly in the Western tongue.

“Ah, so you are indeed a child of Martok?” Khalid asked, ignoring the Dwerro's question.

“We all child of Martok.  He just like us more than others.”

“So you can lead us into the mountain?” Khalid pressed.

“Yes!  Yes!  I take you, show you Martok.  We all go together.  Grovel at his feet.  Bask in  glory.  Free me.  I take you!” the Dwerro replied, straining at his bonds.  Flecks of bloody saliva dripped from his lips as his eyes darted over each of them, seeking some sign of agreement.

Frowning, Gorak indicated that they should withdraw with jerk of his head.  When they were some distance away, he growled, “Well, that certainly changed his attitude.  Bit too enthusiastic for my liking though.  That can't be a good sign.”

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Khalid considered what he had learnt.  “Ah, yes, quite.  He did seem sincere however.  He may very well be our best, yes, best hope of gaining access to the citadel.  And by dangling the prospect of a return to his homeland before him, it is possible that we can persuade him to part with information of a more immediately useful nature.”

They allowed Shayla to rest for several hours, before Gorak roused her.  They quickly dismantled their tiny camp and set out for Caer Morag.  When it became clear that they were not going to release him and head north, the Dwerro became sullen and obstinate, hindering their progress at every opportunity and even Azarek's encouragement wasn't enough to goad him along.  Worse still, the road was now swarming with Dwerro patrols, forcing them deeper into the woods and making riding impossible.  Finally, tired of half dragging the Dwerro through the forest, Khalid summoned a horse and they threw him over the saddle, tying him down securely and handing the reins to Azarek.  As they picked their way through the forest, Khalid joined Gorak in the lead.  After walking for a while in silence, Khalid finally broached the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind since the ritual in the clearing.  “Ah, Gorak,” he began, “if it is not too soon, I would like to discuss with you the events of the day past.”

“We have discussed it Khalid,” Gorak growled.  “A dozen times or more in the years that I've known ya.  It ain't my fault ya don't listen.”“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid muttered, chastised.  “But if you would indulge me, I would enjoy the opportunity to expand my knowledge of the particulars.  Even beyond the limits of my power, I could not, yes, not conceive of such a feat”

“Particulars?” Gorak grunted.  “The power ain't rooted in the ritual.  The power comes from the connection between all things.  You use formula and calculation to seize hold of the arcane flow, bending it your will and forcing it to alter the world around you.  Priests and holymen are the same.”  Seeing Khalid about to protest, he silenced him with a glare.  “What I mean is that they use incantations and prayers to beg the gods to bring their power to bear on the mortal realm.”

“I don't see how that's the same at all.” Khalid complained.

“You want to hear the explanation or not?” Gorak growled.  When Khalid nodded, he continued.  “My strength comes from within, from following the bonds that join together the earth and stone, leaf and branch, blood and bone, spirit and soul.  All things are one, Khalid.”

Khalid considered his words, pairing them with his own knowledge and what little he knew of religion.  “You speak of gods,” he countered.  “Do you claim that we mere mortals are cast from the same mold as the likes of them?”

“More so than you might think.”

“Indeed?  How then do you explain their influence.”

“Oh, I'll grant you that they're a bit smarter than us, but all they're really doing is diverting souls with the clever illusion of an afterlife so they can hoard that energy for themselves, rather than letting it return to where it belongs.”

“So you do not hold them to be immortal?  Creators of all we behold, as the various priests would have us believe.”

Gorak chuckled.  “If that were true, the world would have been created a dozen times over.   A dung beetle lives his life amid a pile of sh*t, and thinks himself lord of a mighty kingdom.  In time, he dies and and his home becomes dirt.  Like the trees of this forest will.  Or the walls of Caer Morag.”

“Yes, quite.” Khalid muttered.

“Man.  God.  It don't matter.  Everything eventually returns from where it came.  And sometimes, if yer lucky, you come back again.”

“So then perhaps the absence of the gods is the natural course of things.  Perhaps they are simply dieing.”

“Maybe,” Gorak grunted.  “The thought had crossed my mind, but it just don't feel right.  One or two, maybe, but all of them, at the same time?   And it's more than that, I can feel it in the earth and in the water.  Everything is...fading.”

“Surely, you aren't suggesting that this situation imperils all of creation?  I would have thought it a bit more, shall we say durable, than that.”

“Look, I ain't got no proof of any of this, but I know what I feel.  Think of it this way.  Take a man's leg off at the knee, and he'll probably live.  Take it off at the hip and he'll probably bleed to death or die of infection.  That's what this feels like to me.  A whole lot of things went wrong all at once.  And now, the rot is spreading.”

“So what then, is the cure?”

“Buggered if I know,” Gorak rumbled.  “But none of that don't mean anything if we don't get clear of this damned war.”  He stopped and scanned the trees briefly.  “We gotta be close now.  I'm gonna go take a look around.  Stay put.”  Stretching out his arms, Gorak's form dissolved into that of an eagle and he took to the sky.

Khalid, Shayla and Azarek settled down to wait in the fading light of late afternoon.  Seeing an opportunity to earn some goodwill from their captive, Khalid suggested, “Ah, perhaps we should let him down.”  He nodded toward the bound Dwerro.

“Whut fer?” Azarek replied with a scowl.  “Jus so he can have another chance to boot me in the tenders like last time?”

“Ah, still...” Khalid pressed.

“Ya want him down, ya git him offa thar yerself.  Then ya can put him right back on thar when yer feathered friend gets back.”

Knowing that there was little chance of changing Azarek's mind, Khalid drew his cloak around is shoulders and sat down on the grass beneath the spreading branches of an oak tree, close to Shayla, to wait for Gorak's return.  The minutes dragged by, with only the sounds of the forest to break the monotony, since it was abundantly clear that neither Shayla or Azarek had any interest in conversation.  After what seemed like eternity but in reality was less than an hour, Gorak swooped down out of the trees and shifted back into his natural form in front of them.

“Found him.  Let's go,” was all he said, before leading them deeper into the woods.  The gloom beneath the trees began to deepen into night as they headed toward their rendezvous with Nargamon.  They were now far enough away from the road to feel safe enough to illuminate their path, which Khalid took care of with a gesture.

Soon after, a familiar if not particularly pleasant voice hissed, “Put that out.”

“Ain't no Dwerro around here, wizard,” Azarek retorted.  “'Cept this sorry sack.”  He gave the captive Dwerro a cuff on the side of the head.

“It is not the Dwerro I fear,” Nargamon replied.  “I told you there are things within this forest  that will not tolerate our presence.”	Cupping his hand over the light, Khalid allowed just enough illumination so they could see one another.  Nargamon regarded each of them in turn, lingering on Shayla a brief instant longer than the rest.  She had availed herself of one of the many magical trinkets they'd acquired on the journey, a magical earring that served to alter the appearance of its wearer.  None of them really had use for it before, save when Shayla tired of her wardrobe, but now she used it to adopt her old appearance.  The magic was weak however, and didn't truly mimic her previous form completely, but in the dim light it either fooled Nargamon or he didn't care enough to comment.  “So you failed,” he continued.  It wasn't a question as much as a statement.

“We ain't licked yet,” Gorak growled.  “I've got an idea or two left that might work.”  Khalid glanced at him in surprise.  He'd mentioned nothing of any other plan to deal with the canon.

“Oh, no doubt,” Nargamon replied snidely.  “Intrepid heroes that you are.”  He turned his attention to their prisoner.  “And this is the only benefit from your little excursion?  Has he provided you with anything useful?”

“Ah, yes, quite, although nothing which will help us defend Caer Morag.”

“Bah.  You dragged me out here for this?” Nargamon spat.  “I should be in Caer Morag, preparing the defence of my tower.”

“You mean looting everything that ain't nailed down and getting the hell outta there,” Gorak growled.

Nargamon shrugged, not even bothering to deny the charge. “At least the Dwerro won't get their grubby little hands on it.”

“Yeah well, I told you, I got one more plan, but there ain't enough time now for us to get back to the city.  That's why I need you.”

“I can't take you all.”

“Just me,” Gorak replied.  “And him.” he pointed at the Dwerro.  “I might need him.  And I'm tired of him trying to get loose and cut our throats.”

“If he resists, I may not be able to bring him.”

“He ain't gonna be a problem.”  Gorak growled.  “Are you?” he asked the Dwerro, pulling out his gag.  “Cuz after we finish up here, we're all gonna take a little trip to see Martok.”  

The Dwerro, suspicious at first, nodded eagerly at the mention of Martok.  “Yes, Martok.  I go.  We go.”

“Ah, Gorak, are you sure about this?” Khalid asked, his voice betraying his concern.

“Don't worry Khalid.” Gorak replied.  “You know me,” he said with a wicked grin.  “I ain't gonna do anything rash.”  Then he turned serious again.  “I see only one more shot at this and we can't get to the city fast enough travelling like this.  I gotta go.  You three just keep moving toward the city.  Stay in the forest and skirt the army on the south edge.  After I'm done, I'll fly out into the forest....”

“And we'll find you,” Khalid finished for him, pulling the tiny voodoo doll Halaal had given to Gormo from the rucksack, and tucking it into his robes.

“Ayup.”

“Are you sure this is the only way?” Shayla asked quietly, breaking her long silence.

“I am, darling.  Look after these two fools while I'm gone.”

“Let's go,” he growled, walking over to Nargamon.

Pulling back the sleeves of his robes, Nargamon placed one hand on Gorak's shoulder and another on the Dwerro's head.  Closing his eyes, he uttered a single word, and the three of them vanished.

The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, disheartened by Gorak's departure, until Khalid finally spoke.  “Ah, well, it is probably best to heed Nargamon's warning and not risk attracting attention by moving through the woods at night.  I will prepare our shelter and we will leave as soon as the morning light permits.

They ate a cheerless meal in the grey expanse of Khalid's magic before turning in.  Rising early in the morning, they broke camp quickly and set off for Caer Morag.  Without Gorak to lead them, they decided to risk moving into the lighter forest closer to the road, rather than chance becoming lost in the heavier brush.  While they walked, Khalid surreptitiously watched Shayla from the corner of his eye.  After a while, it became apparent that he didn't need to hide his scrutiny, since she was paying scant attention to him and everything else, save her next step.   She hadn't bothered to evoke the magic of the earring in the morning, and walked with her head bowed, long black hair hiding her elven features.  There was no question that she had changed in more ways than just physical; she'd been wounded before, badly, and always seemed to bounce back with remarkable resilience, a testament to her fiery will.   But this time was different.  She was more withdrawn now, speaking only when questioned directly, and quickly pulling back as soon as she was left alone.  He knew it was only a few days since  her experience, yet he feared to allow her to slip to deeply into herself, especially now that Gorak was gone.

When the sun hit its zenith, Khalid suggested a brief rest.  Sitting down on the grass next to Shayla, beneath the branches of an ancient oak tree, he began to rummage through his pack for something to eat.  Pulling out a strip of dried jerky, he bit off half of it and then offered the rest to Shayla when he saw that she had simply dropped her pack beside her, and was staring off into the distance.  At his gesture, she blinked and seemed to notice him, taking the food with a half-hearted smile, and taking a small bite.

“Ah, are you alright Shayla?” Khalid asked finally.

“I don't know,” she replied quietly.

“Perhaps it would help to talk about it?  Yes, quite.”

“I don't really remember much.”  She took a deep breath.  “Not clearly, anyhow.  I remember the fight well enough.  I remember pain and then falling.  But after that...after that it's like a nightmare, that I can't quite remember.”

“If it is too much for you to bear, you do not have to continue.”

She shook her head.  “It might be important, but it's hard.  I can't picture where I was or what was around me, but I can still feel it.”  A shudder wracked her slight form.  “The...wrongness of it.  Like I wanted...no, had to go someplace else, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get there.  And I know I wasn't alone.  I could feel the others around me, moving, brushing up against me.  All of them screaming without any voices.”  Tears began to roll down her cheeks and Khalid reached out, putting his arm around her shoulder.  “Then the next thing I remember, I'm sitting on the ground and you're holding me.  And now I'm back and I can feel the sunlight again and smell the forest and it's good...but everything is just a little bit different.  A little bit off.”  She held up her hand and stared at it as though it belonged to a stranger, turning it over and slowly curling her fingers.

Unsure of what to say, Khalid simply held her for a while longer, until the sense of urgency returned and they were forced to set out again.  They travelled as quickly as they could, but the rough terrain and frequent patrols hampered their pace.

In the afternoon, they risked moving a little ways out of the forest, to try and judge their proximity to the city.  “Ah, yes, we should be extremely cautious now...” he began, when the ground suddenly rumbled beneath his feet, strong enough to cause him to lose his footing.

“What tha bloodly hell was that?” Azarek growled, whipping his sword out of his sheath and glaring around at the trees.

A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Khalid replied, “Maybe we should risk moving to the tree line.”
They changed course and headed north to the edge of the forest, moving at a quick jog with Azarek in the lead.  With a curse, he pulled up suddenly, causing Khalid to almost crash into him.

“Ah, what is it,” Khalid asked then his jaw dropped open as he stared through the thinning trees, out over the plains.

“Is that...” Shayla started softly, then trailed off.

“Yes.”

Before them, far off in the distance, lay the city of Caer Morag, surrounded by the massive Dwerro army.  At its centre, a huge plume of dust and smoke was slowly settling to the ground, the last traces of Nargamon's tower.  The glittering ranks of Dwerro infantry rushed into formation, marshaling for the attack.  Then a sound like distant thunder rolled over them.  Once, twice and then a third time.

“Oh no,” Shayla whispered as the Dwerro bombards began their deadly work on the walls, sounding the death knell of the city.  Unvoiced, a single question weighed heavily on all of them as they watched the beginning of the end of Caer Morag.  Where was Gorak?


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## The Axe

*Woofta!*

Welcome back!


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## TaranTheWanderer

bump


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## TaranTheWanderer

Just a role-playing aside, if anyone's interested:

Obviously, Shayla's player was pretty miffed that her charcter died.  Fortunately we just got enough XP to level to 7th which gave us access to 4th level spells and thus reincarnate.  Since this was pretty much her first campaign, she didn't realize we'd be able to bring her back and she was relieved - until we told her she was going to lose a level and she might come back as a bugbear... or troglodyte!
Galeman allowed her to use her character points to influence the dice roll.  I think she was allowed to slide her result up or down the reincarnate table at a cost of 1 character point/percentage (expensive).
Anyways, her roll was great.  She rolled a human (I think), but Galeman wouldn't let her keep it since he "didn't witness the roll".  On her re-roll, she rolled an elf, which in my opinion makes for a better story anyways!  
Her character is pretty upset about what she experienced when she died; but I'm pretty sure she's actually mourning the loss of fireball


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## Guillaume

Back in the day, I started reading this story hour at the very begining. I really enjoyed it and when the updating stopped being regular, I just drifted away. A couple months ago, I noticed that post  were being made in this thread. At the time, I did not have the time to reread the story. So I filed the story hour away for a latter date. This weekend, I took the time to read it and I am glad I did. I'm looking forward for next month's update. Keep up the good work.

I promise not to sing this time.


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## TaranTheWanderer

So, I got sitting down with my toddlers crayons, and I came up with a map...I just have to figure out how to post it...


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## TaranTheWanderer

Updated the map after speaking with EN.  I forgot a few areas north of Caer Morag that are important later...I might have to increase the font...lemme know if you can't read it...


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## EternalNewbie

Gorak staggered, slipping away from Nargamon's grasp as a wave of  vertigo washed over him.  “It always feel like that?” he grunted, blinking in the clear white light of the tower's study, his mind trying to make sense of the instantaneous change in surroundings.

“I hope I didn't upset your delicate constitution,” Nargamon snapped, making a show of wiping his hands on his filthy robes.

“I think I'll fly next time,” Gorak grumbled, ignoring the barb.

“That suits me just fine,” Nargamon said.  Relenting a bit, he continued, “The feeling passes quickly.  You get used to it after a while.”  His complexion, even paler than usual, belied the truth of his words.

“You got someplace secure to stow him,” Gorak asked, pointing at the supine Dwerro, who was peering around Nargamon's study with an interest that was immediately disconcerting.

“Yes, yes,” Nargamon muttered, shuffling across the room to his enormous desk.  Flipping closed the covers of several open books, he searched around fruitlessly for a few moments, before shoving aside a stack of parchment and picking up a small hand bell.  He waved it twice, seemingly unconcerned that it made no discernible sound.

Leaving the bound Dwerro on the floor, Gorak walked over to the large map on the wall.  As he moved, he noticed a series of carvings etched into the stone floor, in a circular pattern, similar, but not identical to the markings they'd discovered in Shalazar.  Not really in the mood for a wizardly lecture, he dismissed it from his thoughts and turned to the task at hand, studying the positions of the Dwerro army on the enchanted parchment.

“Don't look like they've moved around much,”

“There's no need.  Yet.” Nargamon pointed out.  “The bombards have not arrived I suspect.”

A knock on the door interrupted them.  At Nargamon's invitation, one of his apprentices entered,   a young man, barely old enough to shave.  With all of the tact of a drill sergeant, Nargamon issued orders.  “Take our guest to the empty room on the third level, and lock him up securely in the summoning chamber.  Then find Kaleb and send him up here, with the Captain of the Guard's briefing report for the day.  And see if one of the other apprentices will volunteer for tonight.”

“Of course, master,” the apprentice replied, bowing low as walked over to the Dwerro.  Hauling him roughly to his feet he propelled him with a shove toward the staircase.

“And Victor,” Nargamon called after him. “I understand about your mother and father, but don't seek to assuage your grief with vengeance.  Not tonight anyhow,” he added, with a pointed look at the Dwerro.

“I wasn't going to,” Victor protested, but the slow flush that crept up his cheeks betrayed him.

“Of course not.  You are dismissed.”

Gorak snorted.  “He wouldn't have been able to hurt that little bastard.  He's a tough nut to crack.”

“It's not the Dwerro I'm concerned about.  I can't afford to lose any more apprentices, even the stupid ones, and Victor doesn't have the stomach for proper torture.  That Dwerro'd be out of his bonds and have his throat cut before he knew what was happening.”

A few minutes later, Kaleb appeared with a sheaf of parchment.  Nodding to Gorak, he bowed to Nargamon as he handed over the documents.  “The Captain reports nothing of any major import  today.  Two men killed from a collapsing building, but no contact with the Dwerro.  Fifteen more men are off the roster, suffering from dysentery, and the food rations are going to have to be cut again, if we want to last the month.  The duty commander reported all clear from the wall half an hour ago, and things seem pretty quite on the line.”

“Yes, yes,” Nargamon muttered absently, skimming over the parchment.  Tossing it aside, he looked at Gorak.  “So, no time like the present.  Let's get this great plan of yours into action.  What do you need?”

Yawning prodigiously, Gorak grumbled, “Place ta sleep, for starters.  It's been a helluva day, and I need to commune before I'll be ready.”

“Ah, what service I must have done to the lost gods, that they shower me with heroes such as these,” Nargamon replied causticly, rolling his eyes.  “Well, I wouldn't want to delay nap time.  Maybe afterwards, we can discuss lifting the siege.  Kaleb, show Gorak to the sleeping chambers.”  Another apprentice entered before they left, a middle aged man, who had the look of a farmer or labourer, more so than a wizard.

“Master,” he said gruffly, with barely a glance to Gorak.  “Victor told me you needed a volunteer for this evening.”

“Indeed, and you drew the short straw did you?  Hold up a minute you two, you can help put Kautter to bed.”  Gorak was about to reply but Nargamon didn't give him a chance, continuing without pause.  “Very well then.” Nargamon gestured at a chair.  “Let's get it done.”  Nargamon muttered a few arcane words as the man sat down, then placed his hand on the apprentice's forehead.  Instantly, the man slumped over, snoring loudly.  Looking immediately refreshed, Nargamon dismissed them with a few final commands for Kaleb.  “Get him downstairs and show Gorak to an empty room.  I need to continue the preparations, which will require some things from the library, so find me a runner and then get some sleep.”

Seizing the unconscious man by the belt and slinging his limp arms over their shoulders, they hauled him to his feet.  As they carted him down the stairs, Gorak asked, “What's all that about.”

“A most fortunate discovery of Nargamon's; a simple spell he came across quite early after his arrival.  It allows him to steal the sleep from another so he himself does not require rest.”

“I can see where that would be useful,” Gorak grumbled, shifting his weight to get a better hold on his burden.

“Definitely.  It allowed him to spend countless hours in the library, devising ways to protect the city.”

“No doubt,” Gorak rumbled, suspecting that more than simple altruism drove Nargamon.

“It's not without drawbacks however,” Kaleb continued, breathing heavily as he struggled to keep up with Gorak and not send the sleeping apprentice tumbling down the stairs.  “It requires a willing subject and without true rest, it becomes impossible to commit the complex arcane formula to memory, so it cannot be used indefinitely.”

A few minutes later, they arrived at the base of the tower where the sleeping chambers were located.  After heaving the sleeping Kautter onto a bed, Kaleb directed Gorak to an empty room.  Exhausted,  he shrugged off his pack and collapsed on the bed, not bothering to undress.  He slept long and deeply, despite being inside, having not really rested since the battle two days before.

He awoke the following day, stiff from his long slumber, but feeling immeasurably better.  In the windowless room, he couldn't see the sun to tell the time of day, but his own internal sense told him it was well past noon.  Sticking his head out the door, he accosted a passing apprentice.  “Where's Nargamon?” he asked gruffly.

“How should I know?” the apprentice replied disdainfully.

“Go find him and tell him I wanna talk to him.”

“I don't take orders from the likes of you.  Maybe if I see him, I'll pass along the message,” the man retorted.

Seizing the man by the front of his robes, Gorak jerked him forward, so close his tusks were practically gouging him.  “Don't think of it of it as an order,” he growled.  “Consider it a friendly suggestion in the interest of your well being.”  He released the man with a shove, sending him stumbling backwards.  Returning to his room, Gorak knelt down and cleared his mind of all distractions, seeking strength from the ebb and flow of the world around him.  Some time later, a tentative knock on the door broke his calm and brought his foul mood back.  Rising to his feet, he opened the door to find the sullen apprentice standing outside.

“Nargamon's at the top of the tower, in the observatory.  He says to meet him up there.”

Brushing past the man without a word, Gorak took the steps two at a time.  Despite his hardened physique, by the time he reached the landing at the top, he was breathing heavily and slick with sweat.  Grabbing hold of an iron rung embedded in the wall, he climbed up the short ladder and pushed open the trapdoor above him.

The observatory was a simple, nondescript circular room roughly twenty feet across with a single window adorning the north wall.  Nargamon was seated at a small writing desk, surrounded by books and strange mechanical devices whose purpose was unknown to Gorak.  It barely seemed to warrant the name, but considering that Khalid never spent any time looking at anything other than books, maybe it did, Gorak thought to himself.

Nargamon looked up from the device in his hands.  “So, now do you want to tell me what your brilliant plan is, oh great saviour?” he asked, not even making an attempt at pleasantries.

“Sure,” Gorak grunted.  “When those cannons arrive, I'm gonna fly out there and rust the barrels.  If they try to fire them after that, they'll simply blow apart.”

Nargamon blinked.  “You're going to fly out there.”  He pointed toward the window.  “Into the middle of the entire Dwerro army.”  He paused dramatically.  “Land beside their most potent weapons.”  Gorak grunted.  “And cast a spell?”

“Ayup.”

“That's a terrible plan.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Gorak growled through clenched teeth.  “We tried the good plan already, and you saw how that worked out.  We don't have a lot of options left if we're going to save this city and all these people.  And besides,” he sneered contemporaneously.  “At least its better then hiding behind the walls of this tower, getting ready to run.”

“Before you go getting all high and mighty, you'd better take a look at this.”  Nargamon picked up a spy glass from among the many artifacts on the desk and handed it to him.  With a word, the grey stone walls became as transparent as glass, offering a sweeping panoramic of the city and the army that surrounded it.

Gorak raised the bronze tube to his eye and scanned the troops below.  In their midst, at intervals around the west and north side of the city, Dwerro soldiers were swarming around five structures that hadn't been there the day before.  With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he kept searching, finally seeing the remains of the caravan, now stripped down and mostly dismantled.

“Damn it,” Gorak swore.  “I wasn't expecting them to get here that quick.  This is gonna be harder then I thought.”

“Indeed.  I suspect there are dead pigs littering the road from here to Draknor.”

“Five buildings,” Gorak spat.  “Clever bastards.  Now even if I can figure a way to get close enough, I gotta avoid the decoys.”  Peering through the spyglass again, he studied the wooden fortifications.  As he watched, a crow, circling over one of the buildings swooped low, trying to land on the roof.  Instantly the air was filled with crossbow bolts, as the Dwerro sentries took aim and fired.  The dead bird plummeted to the ground.  Gorak let loose a litany of vile epitaphs.

“Now what?” Nargamon asked, not even bothering to look up.

“They're on ta me,” Gorak growled.  “One of the survivors musta seen me shift and now they're using any bird that comes within a hunnerd feet of those buildings for target practise.

“So, what will you do?”  Nargamon asked.

“Gotta try,” Gorak grunted in reply.  “If I can get to just one of them, it might buy some time.”

“Suit yourself.”

Unwilling to concede to Nargamon's pervasive pessimism, Gorak left the observatory and headed back down to the courtyard.  On his way out, he passed Kaleb, returning from some errand in the city.  

Braver than most, Kaleb chanced Gorak's foul expression with a passing greeting.  “Headed out to scout the army?” he asked.

“I'm gonna do more than scout 'em, if I get the chance,” Gorak growled, not breaking stride.

Kaleb turned and fell into step beside him.  “While Nargamon may not show you any gratitude for your presence here, your efforts have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated,” he offered.  “Good luck, with whatever you have planned.”

“I'll need a damn sight more than luck to do anything useful out there,” Gorak muttered.

“Well, it's not much, but there are a few things I could do to aid you.”  He stopped, and cast a spell, touching Gorak lightly on the shoulder as he finished.  “In the unlikely event the Dwerro have magical concealment at their disposal, that should reveal any hidden foes.”

Gorak grunted, “Speaking of magical concealment, Khalid knows this spell...”

“Invisibility?  A staple for any wizard, I assure you.  But I doubt I have the ability to maintain the spell long enough to allow you to complete your task.”

“I can move pretty quick,” Gorak rumbled.  “When I have to.  Come with me.”

They left the tower courtyard and pushed through the huddled mass of refugees camped near the tower.  In time, they came to the ring of outer defences near the city wall, where tired soldiers, almost as miserable and wretched as the people they protected, waited for the next assault to begin.  Weary beyond even curiosity, the men ignored them as soon as it became clear that no new orders were forthcoming from the pair.  Stopping at the base of the wall Gorak searched the sky above the army, among the kites and crows that circled endlessly overhead.  He located a suitable candidate, and studied it closely for several minutes.  Satisfied, he grunted, “Alright.  Do your thing.”

“You are aware of the other limitations of the dweomer?”  When Gorak nodded, he launched into the spell, while Gorak shifted form, mimicking the form of a huge vulture  As he took flight, Kaleb called after him, “Start counting.  When you reach two hundred and fifty, you'd best be out of bow range of any Dwerro.”

Surging into the air under the strength of his large wings, Gorak raced for the nearest building.  Silently counting off the passing seconds, he fought through the slow burn of unused muscles in his chest.  As he hurtled through the air, a flicker of motion caught his eye, at the edge of his vision.  He craned his long neck around, searching the sky, but whatever it was, it was gone.  Dismissing it as a case of overactive paranoia, he cursed himself for wasting precious seconds.  Flying over the heads of the Dwerro troops, he closed in on his target with somewhere shy of a minute left on Kaleb's spell.  Flaring out his wings, he glided down to the roof of the building, perching above the barred double doors.   A few of the more astute Dwerro sentries glanced around at the faint sound, but, seeing nothing, turned back to the city walls.  Drifting to the ground, Gorak quickly circled the structure, becoming more infuriated with each passing second.  It became immediately clear that the Dwerro had carefully planned and constructed the defences with all of their considerable engineering skill.  The doors were tightly sealed, with barely a crack beneath them.  The planks of the walls had been sunk into the ground, and thick hide had been stretched across them, to fireproof them and seal the gaps around the roof.  The few windows that had been cut into the frame were covered with a fine steel mesh and shuttered from inside, so he couldn't see what lay beyond.  He could hear Dwerro moving around through the tiny opening, but still had no idea if one of the cannons housed in this building.  It must have been dreadfully unpleasant inside, judging from the heat that vented out from the windows, but it probably made the Dwerro feel right at home, in the sweltering darkness.

As the seconds of Kaleb's spell ticked away, Gorak finally had to admit his plan was hopeless.  Even if he could find an opening big enough to slip through, he didn't have the strength to shift his form enough times to get inside and then escape, even if he could survive long enough to complete his casting.  To try and get close to the bombard would be nothing short of suicide.  His only remaining hope was to wait until the cannons were unveiled, and the final assault commenced.

Thwarted, Gorak turned back to lend his strength to the defence of the city.  Flying over the walls, he spent a few minutes inspecting the meagre fortifications, trying to decide where best to direct his efforts.  As he circled, a nagging doubt began to worm its way into his thoughts.  Finally, unable to ignore it any longer, he banked sharply and flew toward the centre of the town, heading toward the tower.  Not willing to risk blundering into any of the tower's warding spells, he landed outside and reverted back to his own form.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong.  The gates to the courtyard were ajar and no guards were in sight.  Drawing out his cudgel, he moved quickly through the grounds and approached the tower.  His fears were confirmed when he saw the stout oaken door shattered on its hinges, and smeared with blood.  And even though he was expecting trouble, he was completely unprepared for what happened next.  

Out of the darkness of the tower, materialized was what, at first glance, appeared to be a woman.  Long black hair, glistening with an oily sheen, hung down to her waist,  framing her voluptuous figure.  Her chalk white skin was marred by a thin band of scales that crossed beneath her naked breasts, over the taut muscles of her stomach and wound around her shapely legs before vanishing into the fur of her cloven hooves.  Her features would have been beautiful, if they were not twisted with unholy cruelty.  Two tiny ivory white horns with crimson tips emerged from her forehead, just above her brow.  Like Vestalt, her eyes were blood red orbs, bereft of pupil.  Shifting the burden she carried in her arms, she stopped and regarded him with a look of utter contempt.

“Stand aside, Orcling.” she hissed.  “I will brook no interference with my task.”

Gorak struggled to fight down the unnatural lust that seized him, even through fear that had his heart hammering in his chest.  He knew he was facing an opponent beyond his measure.  His mind raced as he considered his options.  Focusing on the burden in the creatures hands, he realized what she had come for.   He slowly started to raise his hand, the words of a spell on his lips. 

Recognizing his intent, a pair of huge leathery bat like wings unfurled from the succubus' back, and closed around her protectively, shielding the unconscious son of Martok she carried.  “Raise your hand against me and you will grovel at my feet and beg for death before I finish with you.  Your time is up mortal.  Stand aside or die.”

 With a curse,Gorak abandoned the spell, and grudgingly moved back out of the devil's way.  The succubus shifted the wounded Dwerro in her arms, and walked past Gorak without sparing him another glance.  She stepped over the twisted metal of the ruined portal, and flexed her legs, springing high into the air.  The huge bat wings sliced through the air, driving her high up into the clouds and out of sight.

Exhaling slowly, Gorak watched her leave, then walked up the steps to the tower door, kicking aside the wreckage.  The scene that greeted him inside was the stuff of nightmares.  Blood coated the walls of the entrance, and he had to step past the bodies of the two guards that usually stood outside.  One looked as though he had been flayed alive, but not before he'd disembowel the other with his sword.  Beyond, two apprentices were locked in a death's embrace.  Gorak recognized one of them as the boy, Victor.  His hands were wrapped around the other man's neck, having managed to strangle him before the dagger buried in his stomach ended his life.  Glancing down one of the long hallways on the main level that housed the sleeping quarters, Gorak called out, “Anybody alive in here?”

At the end of the hallway, a door creaked open slightly, and Kaleb poked his head out.  “Gorak!” he practically sobbed in relief.  “Is that thing gone?”

“Yeah,” he grunted in reply.  “She got what she came fer.  Where's Nargamon?”

“I don't know,” Kaleb said shakily, as he approached Gorak, eyes darting nervously around.  The blood drained from his face as he walked into the main hall.  “I was in my chamber sleeping when she showed up.  I opened the door and saw one of the guards being...being killed.”  He shuddered.  “She walked right past, to the stairs, like she knew what she was looking for.  She glanced at me, and I could feel her, in my thoughts, beckoning me to join her, to serve her, and for a moment, I almost did.  But then somebody screamed and it broke the trance.  I barricaded myself in my room while the others...” he trailed off.  “After a while, the screaming stopped, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave.”

“Smart move,” Gorak growled.  “You couldn't do anything out here but die.”

“After it got quiet, I heard some explosions from up in the tower.  If Nargamon's anywhere, he'll be up there.”

“Let's go then.”  Without waiting to see if Kaleb followed, Gorak took the stairs two at a time.  At the second level, he stepped over the body of what looked to be Kautter, but since the corpse was missing its head, he couldn't really be sure.  On the landing of the third level, where the Dwerro had been kept, the door had been torn asunder and the bodies of two more guards were piled on top of one another in a bloody mess of limbs and entrails.  Without pause, Gorak headed up past the library on the floor level, to Nargamon's study on the fifth.  The door to his room was intact, and tightly barred.  The runes around the edges of the frame were glowing slightly.  “Nargamon,” Gorak yelled, not willing to risk banging on the door.  “You still alive in there?”

“Gorak?  Is that you?” Nargamon called out weakly.

“Yah.  Open up the door.”

“How do I know you're not bewitched by that devil?” Nargamon challenged.

“You don't.  But that bitch is gone and if you don't open up this door, I'ma gonna use Kaleb to bash it down and come in anyhow.”  Gorak growled, ignoring the squawk of protest from Kaleb.  Behind the door, Nargamon muttered an arcane word and the runes slowly faded.  Gorak  raised the latch and walked in.  

Nargamon was curled up on the floor, propped against the leg of his desk, clutching at his stomach.  His robes were shredded from shoulder to hip, and stained red with his blood.  His face was ashen grey and he was breathing in short, sharp gasps.  Gorak knelt beside him and pulled away his hands away from the wound.  Holding Nargamon by the shoulder, he muttered the words to a spell, and plunged his other hand into the wound, eliciting a harsh grunt of pain.  As the magic took effect, Nargamon's breathing evened out, and colour returned to his face.  Standing up slowly, he leaned heavily on the desk for support.

“So she got what she came for then?” Nargamon asked.

Gorak nodded.  “The Dwerro.”

“And my apprentices?”

“Dead.  Guards too.  Except for Kaleb here.  How'd she get inside?”

“I don't have mastery over all of the tower's defensive spells.  By the time I realized what was going on, she was halfway up the stairs.  I was not prepared to fight a creature like that.”

“Now what?” Gorak growled.

“Kaleb and I are leaving.  I don't care what you do.  Flee, or stay here and die with the rest of the city.  I have done all that I can but the outcome was never truly in doubt.  Although, thanks to your efforts, it came a little sooner than I was expecting.  I strongly suggest you leave the tower however, as I have no intention of allowing it to fall into the hands of the Dwerro.”

“So that's it then?” Gorak growled, still struggling against the obvious truth in Nargamon's words.

“The siege of Caer Morag is over.  You would do well to accept that and move on.  Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to finish gathering up what we need.”  Turning away from Gorak, he picked up a piece of parchment of the desk and handed it to Kaleb.  “Go to the library, and find these tomes, then meet me in the observatory.

Frustrated and despondent, Gorak stomped out of the room and down the stairs, heading for the city walls.  The panic down on the street was almost a palpable thing now, swirling around the huddled mobs like a foul wind.  Fighting through the milling crowds, he approached the western wall, and climbed up on top of a nearby building, to get a better look.  Along its length, he could see soldiers, gripping weapons tightly, pointing out into the field.  If Gorak had hoped to find more courage among the guards, he was sorely disappointed.  From their vantage point, they could see the beginning of the end.

Out in the field, the Dwerro bombards had been assembled and were slowly being dragged into position behind teams of huge pigs, struggling under the massive weight as they churned through the muddy fields.  Hundreds of Dwerro, marching in lockstep beside, kept a wary vigil on the city and the sky.  The siege engines were manoeuvred into a low hill, well beyond bow range and the draft animals were unhitched as Dwerro artillery men began to load the first of the devices.

Gorak saw the flash of fire and cloud of smoke an instant before the huge iron ball slammed into the wall, in an explosion of dust and rock.  Leaping down from the rooftop, he ran past the dazed soldiers near the impact, and up to the wall.  It was buckled dangerously inwards, the huge stones shifted and fractured from the force.  Placing his hands on the wall, Gorak muttered a few words, and the stone began to flow together, the cracks disappearing under his touch.  In a few seconds, the wall was repair, straightened and strengthened under the power of his magic.  A few nearby guards gave a half hearted cheer when they saw what he was doing.  Gorak almost allowed himself to hope for a second that they could prove Nargamon wrong.

But the Dwerro engineers, having found the range with the first shot, quickly extinguished that brief spark.  Almost in unison, the three cannons fired.  The first shot clipped the top of a wall, and in an instant, half a dozen soldiers vanished an a fiery blast of iron and stone.  The second shot demolished a weakened guard tower, anchoring a section of the wall, and the third hit right beside it, sending stone shards flying into the stunned guards and opening an enormous breech in the wall, fifty feet from where Gorak was standing.  Shaking his head to clear the confusion, Gorak stumbled away from the site of the damage.  Through the shattered gap in the wall, he could see the Dwerro preparing another volley, as the clans formed up for the attack.  Gorak was finally forced to confront the fact that nothing he could do, would stop the inevitable.

In a grim punctuation to the thought, in the centre of the city, Nargamon's tower vanished in a deafening roar of fire and stone, that sent debris raining down over the city.  With a heavy sigh, Gorak shifted his form and took to the air, while below, a few dozen soldiers watched him fly away, the same expression of hopelessness and fear mirrored on every face.


* * * * * * * * * *​ 
“Anything?” Shayla asked, her voice heavy with concern.

Khalid held up the tiny voodoo doll and concentrated.  Having never really used it before, he wasn't sure what to expect.  “Ah, yes, perhaps.”

“That thing work if'n he's dead?” Azarek muttered curiously.

Shayla shot him a look filled with venom, while Khalid grimaced.  He was wondering the same thing himself.  “Ah, yes, well, I'm not exactly certain.”  He held the doll up a little higher and tried to sharpen the image of Gorak he held in his mind.  “It seems to be directing me toward the city.  Yes, quite.”

“Maybe it points to the biggest piece of him,” Azarek mused sagely.

“Enough,” Shayla cursed, punching him in the arm.

“Ah, yes, wait, it seems to be moving now.” Khalid said with relief, as an enormous weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.  “Yes, quite.  He's definitely on the move.”

They turned around and headed back into the forest, following the magical pull of the voodoo doll.  In a little less then an hour, the found Gorak sitting on the ground beside a small stream, his chest bare and dripping with water as he washed the dust and grime away.

Shayla practically flew into his arms.  Burying her face in his muscled shoulder, she whispered, “We were so worried.  We thought you were dead.”	

“Indeed,” Khalid added.

“You should know by know it takes more than a Dwerro army to do me in,” he rumbled with a tired smile.

“So jus whut in the hell happened in there?” Azarek rasped curiously.

“We can talk about it as we move,” Gorak rumbled.  “The Dwerro are gonna be busy for the next little while, and we should use that time to put a little distance between us and them.

Following Gorak's lead, they moved along the edge of the forest, parallel to the city.  The inexorable thunder of the Dwerro bombards dogged their steps, heralding the end of the months long siege.  As night fell, they emerged from the trees, and stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sooty orange glow of the funeral pyre that was Caer Morag spread across the horizon.  Unable to do anything but mourn the pour souls trapped within, they turned they backs upon the city and once again set their feet upon the road.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Just caught up with the last couple of episodes, and all I can say is "Holy **** Batman!" 

Not a good outcome all round - no library, no captured dwerro.  Still at least all the characters are alive this time. 

The reincarnation of Shayla was incredibly cool, btw.


----------



## EternalNewbie

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Not a good outcome all round - no library, no captured dwerro.  Still at least all the characters are alive this time.




Survival = victory in Galeman's campaigns, and we lived to fight another day.  As Gorak pointed out, we were pretty lucky to be so close to 7th when Shayla got killed, although she lost almost a full level and a half after the reincarnation (not to mention fireball and a pile of hps from turning into an elf - she was pretty frail after this), dropping down to halfway through 5th.  Still, we had a few rough sessions here - you can always count on Galeman not to pull any punches .  It was a bit frustrating losing the Dwerro like that - and not only losing him, but actually contributing to the downfall of Caer Morag in the process.  I don't really remember why we thought it was a good idea to move him to the tower, but it was probably along the lines of how I portrayed it.  It was a bummer at the time, though, in retrospect, I'm not sure how well we would have done if we didn't move the Dwerro, and that succubus had got the drop on the rest of us.  

I remember Gorak agonizing over whether or not to try and kill the Dwerro when he ran into the devil, but he didn't really have much of a choice.  He was set up to help defend the town, and didn't really have much other than call lightning to fall back on.  I was chatting with him after I posted this last update, and it's really quite amusing how often we screwed up, ran away, or just plain failed at what we were trying to accomplish


----------



## EternalNewbie

CHAPTER 7: THE LONG ROAD HOME​
“So how much further is it?” Shayla asked, leaning back in her saddle and taking a long pull from her water skin.

“Ah, yes, well, I'm not exactly sure,” Khalid replied, studying the creased and faded map of the East that Arbaq had provided them so many months ago.

“Bah,” Azarek growled, “this road 'ere only goes ta one place.  How hard can it be ta figure it out?”

“Ah, yes, all of these villages look the same,” Khalid complained helplessly.  “Ah, I have no idea which one this is.  Yes, quite.”

He felt he had a point.  So far, every village and hamlet they encountered was depressingly similar:  devoid of inhabitants and more often then not, burned to the ground by Dwerro raiders.  After the fall of Caer Morag, they had spent a long, tense night debating their next course of action.  In the end, frustrated by their failure to prevent the Dwerro from claiming the city, they had decided to follow the road to the east to a city known only as the 'The Hub' and warn them of the inevitable approach of the Dwerro army.  They made good time on the back of Khalid's summoned mounts, gambling that the bulk of the Dwerro forces would be involved in the siege.  Thus far, the road had been entirely empty of travelers, much less Dwerro, to Khalid's relief.  Shayla and Azarek however, seemed almost disappointed and Khalid suspected that they were both secretly hoping to encounter a patrol, to exact a little revenge.

“It can't be much farther.” Shayla added, corking her water skin and looping the strap over her saddlehorn.

“Indeed,” Khalid replied.  “A day, perhaps two at the most.”

The sound of flapping wings heralded Gorak's return.  In eagle form, he swooped low overhead and then shimmered back into his own body.  “This ain't no picnic,” he growled.  “If you keep stopping every half mile the only thing we're gonna find at the Hub are Dwerro.”

Khalid dismissed the jibe without comment.  They'd all been a little short tempered since the fall of the Caer Morag.  By his reckoning they had to be at least two days march ahead of the army, which in all likelihood was tied up with dealing with the populace and probably hadn't even moved yet.  They were confident enough to ride out on the road during the day, with Gorak constantly scouting and searching for signs of pursuit.  “Ah, well, the mounts will hold for a few more hours, and it's not quite dark yet,” Khalid said, tossing the reins of the summoned horse to Gorak.

A few hours later, they turned and headed south towards the forest, before dismounting.  Wearied from the long day spent on the road, Khalid stretched and then stumbled through the words to a spell, conjuring up the magical portal.  He was as tired mentally as he was physically, having spent most of his time in the saddle reviewing the final formula to a new spell.  Sure now that it was ready to be tested, the thought was enough to the spring back into his step.  It had been some time since he'd added new weapons to his arsenal but now, with his increased skill, several new options became available.  The culmination of several months of work was about bear fruit.  He began to mumble through a few of the phrases, measuring his rhythm and inflection.  Dropping his pack, he moved away from the portal, drawing out his battered leather tome from his robes.

“Oiy,” Azarek called out.  “Where ya ofta?”

“Ah, yes, I have a new spell I plan to enact.”

Swinging his saddlebags off his shoulder, Azarek rasped, “This I gotta see.”  He sounded genuinely interested, much to Khalid's surprise.

Shayla released the rope, “Me too.  Hey Gorak,” she called up into the portal.

Gorak's head emerged into view through the open portal.  “No way” he growled.  “I still remember what happened the last time.”  He vanished again.  “I'll leave the rope out, just in case...”

“Very well,”  Khalid agreed absently, stopping at edge of a small rise looking back over the meadow towards the road.   Against the backdrop of trees, they'd be hard to spot by anyone passing on the road.  The light was beginning to fade, but it was sufficient for his purposes. 

“So whut's this gonna do?” Azarek asked curiously.

“Ah, yes, well, my search continues for new allies,” Khalid replied cryptically.  “I fear that my usual servants have been, compromised, yes, compromised.”

“Angels then?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, no, not exactly.”  Khalid replied.  “It seems, ah, well, somehow improper, to order an divine being to hack something into tiny, yes, tiny pieces.  I seek to cast my net a bit wider, shall we say.”  Furrowing his brow, he finished the conversation by launching into the start of the ritual.

Several hundred feet away, a pinprick of hazy purple flame flashed into view.  It quickly expanded outwards in a perfect ring, leaving behind a black, endless void instead of scorched earth.   For a few seconds, nothing happened as Khalid struggled to hold open the portal with magic while imposing his will upon the creature on the other side.  Slowly, the flawless black sphere began to ripple, then a thin, tiny tentacle emerged.   Almost tentatively, the milky, translucent appendage reached out, uncurling in the air.

“Ugh,” Shayla muttered, as a half dozen more tentacles exploded from the portal, flailing about wildly.  The base of each was easily the thickness of Gorak's leg.    Beneath the surface, cloudy purplish lumps of muscle bunched and flexed.  One, near the edge of the expanding flame coiled around a thick ash tree.  “That's repulsive.  Hey Gorak, you should check this out,” she called out over her shoulder.  “Khalid just summoned the biggest, angriest squid you've ever seen.”

“No thanks.”

“Uh, Khalid,” Azarek rasped, carefully watching the expanding boundary of the spell.  “How big is that thing gonna get.” 

“Ah, do not worry,” Khalid said grandly as he completed the last of the phrases.  “It is completely under my control, yes quite.  Release the tree.” he commanded with a wave.  The tentacle continued to flow around the tree, bending it down almost in two.

He tried again directing the full force of his will at the beast.  _Release the tree!_.  With a groaning crack, the tree shattered at the roots, flinging clots of dirt into the air.

Shayla took a step backwards, away from the increasing reach of the creature.  “Keep that thing away from me.  If it gets any closer, it's gonna smell like burnt calamari around here.  She turned and vanished into the portal.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid replied, hastily tying off the weaves.  “That should do it.”  The last part was muttered under his breath.  He exhaled heavily and the portal seemed to stabilize, almost forty feet from edge to edge.  Pouring out from the void were dozens of the tentacles, desperately clawing at the empty sky.  

“So whut in tha hell is it?  Azarek rasped.

“Ah, I'm not exactly sure, but it doesn't appear to be able to fit through the portal.” He sighed with disappointment.  “I can only assume, this is but a part of some vastly larger creature.  Not exactly, what I was hoping for, yes, quite.  Although I suppose I could find some use for it.”

“That right there,” Azarek pointed at the mass of squirming appendages, “hasta be one of the most disgustin' things I've seen, an' tha's saying sumptin, coming from me.  If you let it out near anybody, it's gonna do terrible, awful things to 'em.”  He let loose a sharp barking laugh. “I love it.”

* * * * * * * * * *​
Forty miles later, Khalid got his first glimpse of the Hub.  He black mood only darkened as he surveyed the shantytown that surrounded the city proper.  Unlike Caer Morag, with its stone walls and fortified tower, the Hub seemed little more than a rambling jumble of houses and tents, laid out in no particular order.  Beyond the refugee encampment, a timber palisade interspersed with stone towers split the town in two, encircling the more permanent and prosperous looking dwellings.  They guided their horses through the milling press of people, towards the western gate of the city.  The tension and fear of the populace was all too noticeable, though they lacked the hopeless desperation that had pervaded Caer Morag.  For the moment.  Approaching the wall, Khalid could see the signs of hasty improvement, which failed to inspire much confidence in him.  If Caer Morag had been unable to turn away the Dwerro tide, these people had little chance.  The only encouraging sign was a significantly larger number of regular infantry, dressed in a mix of leather and chain, sporting green and black tabards that mirrored the flags hanging limply from the stone towers.

Near the gate, they pace slowed to almost a crawl.  Despite being open, it seemed as though the guards were turning most people away, preventing them from entering the inner city.  Sweating under the warm spring sun, they waited anxiously, growing more and more impatient, until finally they reached the front of the crowd.

A middle-aged guard stepped in front of them as they approached. Barrel chested, his cheeks were flushed from the heat and sweat dripped from under his steel helm, running down into a thick grey mustache.  “We ain't letting nobody into the city,” he announced before they had a chance to speak.  “There's no room for any more refugees.  Yer gonna have to find someplace to camp out there.”  He gestured at the tent city behind them with the tip of his pike.

“Do we look like refugees to you?” Gorak growled, his patience exhausted from the long wait.

The guard's gaze scanned their worn, dust covered clothing, lingering on Gorak's thick dreadlocks and Khalid's mangy, tattered beard, he replied.  “Well you sure as shyte don't look like the sultan of Gem-Sharad.  Now move along, there might be some folk behind you that actually belong in the city.”

“We want to speak to somebody in charge,” Gorak growled.

“I'm in charge here!” The guard replied angrily, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

“Somebody more important than you,” Gorak retorted.

Khalid, trying to head off an unpleasant situation, injected before the guard could respond.  He leaned down out of his saddle.  “Ah, we have just come from Caer Morag.  Unless you would prefer, yes, prefer that we inform all of these people here that the city has fallen, perhaps there is some place a little more private we could go to speak to your superiors?”

The sergeant's face turned deathly pale.  Realizing the chaos that would engulf the crowd if the news that Caer Morag had fallen spread among them, he glanced around hastily to see if any one had overheard.  “Why didn't you say so?  Stay right here,” he ordered, then spun on his heel, heading for the walls.  “Lieutenant!  Lieutenant!” he called out, heading to a small group of soldiers conferring together on the other side of the gate.  A youngish looking man glanced up at the guard's approach.  The sergeant whispered hastily into his ear, and the young man nodded, then waved away the line of guards to allow them to enter the town.  Leading them to a small building attached to the base of the wall, the young man ushered them inside.  “Wait here a moment,” he said as he closed the door.

A few minutes later, he returned followed by another soldier that, given the resemblance, Khalid had to assume was his brother.  Both had light, sandy blood hair, cut military short and pale blue eyes.  They could have been twins, although Khalid suspected that the one who had greeted them was slightly older.  They wore the same insignia of rank, a red armband emblazoned with two gold chevrons.

Gesturing at them to take a seat around the small wooden table in the center of the room, the older of the two spoke.  “I'm Jared, and this is my brother Jakob.”  After Khalid made the introductions, he continued.  “So do you mind telling us what you said to get Gustav so upset.”

“Ah, yes, well, we have information that your senior officers will find most, yes, most interesting,” Khalid replied.

“Oh I'm sure the Captain will be along shortly.  The good sergeant has gone to find him.  In the meantime, why don't you start with us?”

With a glance at Gorak, who shrugged, Khalid forged ahead.  “Caer Morag has fallen.”

The brother's jovial expressions turned grim and they exchanged a long look.  “Maybe you should go see what's keeping Gustav,” Jared suggested, straightening in his chair.  Jakob stood up and left the room, while Jared turned his attention back to them.  “Go on.”

“Five days ago.  The Dwerro have a new type of siege engine they call a bombard.  When they brought it to the field, they breeched the walls of Caer Morag in mere hours.”

Jared exhaled slowly.  “Hours?” He shook his head, almost in denial.  “We'd almost begun to hope that maybe they'd manage to hold out until we figured out a way to lift the siege.”

“Ah, yes, well as far as we can tell,” Khalid continued, “the army has not yet decamped.  You still have time to evacuate the civilians.  Yes quite.”

“Evacuate them where?” Jared replied, frustration evident in his tone.  “The Hub is the last of the free city states.  The towns and villages nearby have been destroyed or abandoned.”  He looked at them shrewdly for a  moment.  “But you might not know that, seeing as how you're not from around here.  What are two Westerners, a desert Orc and...” he paused, looking at Azarek carefully,  “...whatever you are, doing wandering around in the middle of a war?”

“Ah, yes, well,” Khalid stuttered, trying to think quickly.  “Ah, just passing through.” he concluded lamely, unable to come up anything better and not really wishing to get into their personal motivations.

“Of course,” Jared replied with a mocking smirk.

“Look,” Gorak growled, “we just thought you might like a little warning is all.  What you choose to do wit it, that's your business.”

Jared rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger,  weariness making him look older than he was.  “No, I understand and I do appreciate what you've done.  But if Caer Morag can't hold, we don't have much of a chance.”

Khalid had pulled out the map and was studying it carefully.  “Ah, this map indicates there are more settlements further east.  Across this land bridge.  Surely they will not turn you away? Yes, quite.”

“They will spare us no aid,” Jared said, bitterness lacing his words.  “Not that they could if they wanted too, now.”  Reaching out his hand, Jared took the map and laid it out on the table.  “The road's blocked.  It's raining.”

“Raining?” Gorak scoffed.

“Yeah, raining.  Right here.”  He pointed to a dull green area south of the road.  “And it has been, for six months straight.”

“Ah, is that a swamp?” Khalid asked, squinting at the map.

“Yep, except now it covers most of this area here,” he traced a circle some fifty miles wide, stretching almost from the northern coast of the land bridge to the south.  “The road is all but gone.  This village here,” he touched a small unnamed dot along the road, “had mostly been abandoned by the time we made it through.  It's probably under water by now.  There's nothing but mud and pools of stagnant water, and more reeds and swamp shrub then should reasonably grow in that amount of time.”

“Dwerro?” Khalid asked.

Jared nodded.  “They have to be involved somehow.  We suspect that there are several hundred of them hiding out in the foothills here.” He pointed at a shading of mountains, two or three days north east of the city.  “My brother and I made that run a few months back.  As far as we know, we're the last to make it through, either way.  The road is littered with traps and obstacles, not to mention Dwerro raiders.  There's no way to get these people through.” 

“So there is nothing that can be done?” Khalid asked, sympathizing with the young man.

“We'll fight.” Jared shrugged.  “What else can we do?  If we had more horses, maybe we'd be able to deal with them.  Horses are faster than those pigs they ride, so our light cavalry fares pretty well but we don't have any heavy horse to speak of, and our infantry doesn't measure up.  Hell, there isn't a man alive in the army that's seen a real war.”  He sighed.  “But that isn't your problem.  Thank you for your warning.  I'm going to ask you to remain here, as I'm sure the Captain would like to hear the account, first hand.”

They didn't have to wait long until Jared returned, with the Gustav and the Captain in tow.  Waving the sergeant away, the Captain ordered the two young lieutenants to act as scribes, and proceeded grill them about the siege.  Given their unique involvement, Gorak in particular was able to provide a highly detailed disposition of the Dwerro forces, although he was rather circumspect as to how he came by it.

Several hours later, the Captain released them. As they turned to leave, Jared fell into step beside them.  “You have the run of the town of course, to resupply if you need to,” he offered.  “Although prices are like to be dear.  Food is being controlled by the council now, so it's hard to come by, but for the right price, you should have no trouble finding what you need.  I can perhaps, show you a few places.”

“Chaperon?” Gorak grunted, tactful as always.

“Ah, well, I just though perhaps I could be of some service,” Jared offered with a grin.  “That's the official line, anyhow,” he continued with a smirk.  “Listen, if it's not me, it'll be somebody else that's not nearly as useful.  They just want to make sure you don't go stirring up panic until things have gotten organized.”

“Ah, yes, fair enough,” Khalid replied, not seeing any choice in the matter.  “We shall collect what we need and be on our way quickly then.”

Jared turned out to be telling the truth about the useful part, quickly introducing them to several merchants able to provide them with supplies.  Having had little opportunity or need to spend any of the wealth Arbaq had supplied them with in Gem-Sharad, they quickly spent sums of money Khalid would have once considered fortunes.  Seeing no real need to stay in the city, given their alternative, they headed for the city gate.

“The east gate?” Jared commented, as they walked.  “After what I told you, you're still going to head east?” he said, his voice twinged with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

“What's it to you, where we go?” Gorak growled.

Stopping in front of the barred gate, Jared waved at one of the guards to unlatch a small sally port. “Nothing at all.  But damn me if you aren't the oddest bunch I've seen come through these parts lately.”  He grinned at them.   “What are you people doing here?” he asked once more.

“Ah, passing through,” Khalid replied with a wink, stepping through the gate.  They made their way to the outskirts of the refugee camp before sunset, taking shelter out of sight from any curious onlookers.

They struck out the next morning, leaving before the sun was more than put a pale smudge on the horizon.  Their hurried pace chewed up the miles quickly and the city was soon far behind.  After the first day, they encountered no more people on the road.

The second day, proved far more eventful.  Gorak was off scouting ahead when the road in front them exploded in a shower of dirt and debris.  Reigning in hard, the summoned mounts reared and pawed at the air, as two enormous stone statues emerged from the ground, facing one another across the ten foot wide expanse of road.  Vaguely humanoid, they were so crudely cast as to be almost unrecognizable.   Unfinished stone plates covered their body, and thick, stumpy fingers curled into fists at their sides.  They towered over the road, and Khalid guessed them to be about fifteen feet high.

Dropping down out of the clouds, Gorak  swooped in low and shifted form.  “Where'd those things come from?” he growled.

“Outta tha ground,” Azarek rasped, urging his skittish mount forward another step.  The statues pivoted on their base, expressionless faces now staring blankly at them.

“Azarek” Shayla muttered darkly under her breath, an unneeded warning in her tone.

Studying the statues carefully, Khalid suddenly clued into where he'd seen their kind before.  Gorak had summoned a creature almost exactly the same, albeit smaller, in Malakai's caves.  The two statues were earth spirits, bounded to a rocky form on the material plane.  But this was a different type of magic, to hold them here as guards indefinitely.  Khalid studied them carefully, noticing that both had a shiny metal collar wrapped around their necks.

“Ah, they seem to be bound here, against their will, I should think, yes quite.” Khalid said, as Azarek backed away.  “By those collars around their necks, I suspect.  I should think they will be easy, yes, easy enough to get rid of,” he continued, muttering a few words and briefly suppressing the magical bonds.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Gorak growled, but before he could grab hold of Khalid, the spell left his fingers.  The elemental on the left bulged at the neck, shattering the collar and sending fragments of mental flying through the air, then vanished into the ground as quickly as it had appeared.

“Khalid,” Gorak growled dangerously.

“Ah, yes, well I thought perhaps, yes, as they say, the enemy of my enemy,” Khalid stuttered, glancing around nervously.  He was practically thrown out of his saddle as the ground behind him erupted.  Swelling to twice its previous size, the elemental towered over them.  It brought its massive fists crashing down, shattering the paving stones of the road and roared in a voice that sounding like moving mountains. “RETURN ME!”


----------



## wolff96

And that's what Khalid gets for trying to do something nice...  Poor guy can't catch a break!


----------



## EternalNewbie

“SEND ME BACK!” the elemental roared, once more bringing its fists crashing down upon the road.  

Khalid doubled over in his saddle as a wave of rage washed over him.   “Ah, we can't!” Khalid gagged, struggling to form coherent thoughts through the static of anger that was not his own. Azarek wheeled his mount around, interposing himself between the creature and Khalid.  

“Khalid!” Gorak growled.  “What's it saying?”

Answers fell into place.  Only he could understand the creature, but he had never studied the terran tongue to communicate with earth spirits.  He brought his will to bear, clearing his mind of any thoughts but his own.  _We can not do that. None of us have that ability and attacking us will not change that._  Forming the image of a Dwerro in his mind, he forced it upon the elemental.  _They are responsible.  Only they can return you._  He wasn't entirely certain about the last part, but confronted with several tonnes of highly agitated and impressively mobile rock, he was prepared to stretch the truth a little.

“WHERE?” the being demanded.

“Somebody do something!” Azarek hissed, fingering the hilt of his sword and clearly not relishing the idea of attacking a block of angry stone.

“Ah, do nothing until I tell you.” Khalid admonished.  _To the west, several days._  The thought had barely formed in Khalid's mind when the elemental vanished into the earth.  Khalid glanced around nervously, half expecting the angry spirit to emerge from the ground beneath him.

“What the hell did you do?” Gorak growled.  “You jus sat there staring at 'em while it was grinding and grumbling, and then it went away.  An I might buy a harem girl trembling in fear at the sight of yer pretty face, but that big heap of rocks din't look like the type to jus toddle off because of one skinny wizard.”

Khalid, having grown more practised in the use of his newly discovered talent, explained.  “Ah, my time with Ruwayd gave me some rather specific insights into his rather unusual method of communication.  Yes, quite.  It seems that not only have I become able to broadcast my own thoughts, I am becoming adept at deciphering the thoughts of others, at least to the extent of discerning the meaning of their words.”*

Gorak exhaled slowly.  “Next time,” he growled at Khalid, “maybe a little more warning is in order.”

“Ah, yes, well, as I suspected, they have no cause to be angry with us,” Khalid replied with a bravado that was belied by the tremor in his voice.

“So what do we do about that one?”  He pointed at the other elemental, still standing motionless beside the road.

“Ah, yes, well, I hate to see any creature enslaved by the Dwerro.  I propose we free it as well.  Yes, quite.”

“What if it's crazier then the first one?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, I should think we can manage one of these creatures, if it is indeed hostile beyond reason.”  He glanced at Gorak, who nodded.

“Easy for you to say,” Shayla muttered.  “You both can fly.”

“Don't worry darlin',” Azarek rasped, “I'll pertect ya.”

“I feel safer already,” Shayla replied dryly, rolling her eyes.  “Well, whatever then.  If you're gonna do it, get on with it.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid said, launching into the ritual that would suppress the magic of the collar.  Like the first, as soon as the spell took effect, the elemental reached up and seized the band, tearing it free and casting the twisted scrap of metal away.  It turned slowly and seemed to study them each in turn with its glittering, coal-black eyes.

“Thank you for freeing me from that enslavement,” the elemental rumbled.  “Can you return me my native realm?”

_No.  We have no knowledge of the magic that brought you here.  It was merely within my power to disrupt the shackles that held you._

The elemental emitted a low grinding noise that Khalid took for the equivalent of a sigh.  “Where is the other that was bound here?”

“So what's this one want?” Gorak grunted, looking from the elemental to Khalid, who waved him silent.

_Unfortunately, we set him free first.  He was not quite so self possessed as you.  He left, heading west, seeking out the architects of your imprisonment._

“The length of time we have been imprisoned here weighs heavily on us both.”  The creature curled its hand into a huge fist and Khalid could see a stream of grit and stone drifting down to the ground.  “The earth of this place is too weak.  Maintaining our physical presence requires constant effort.  In time,  our strength will fail and we will crumble into dust.”

_I wish there was more that we could do aid you._  The sympathy that accompanied the thought was genuine.

“You have done enough.  We will find our own way back.”  The elemental began to sink into the ground as it flowed toward them.  “I must find the other now.”

“Where'd it go?” Azarek rasped, looking around at the ground.

“Ah, it's leaving.  It's going to follow the other.  If they don't find a way back soon, they will, undoubtedly die.  Yes, quite.”

“How depressing,” Shayla muttered.  “At least they'll get a chance to get their revenge on a few Dwerro, if nothing else.”

“Yah,” Gorak grunted.  “If they both don't go nuts and carve a swath through the Hub first.”

Khalid frowned, staring back toward the west.  He hadn't really thought of that.  With a sigh, he turned his mount around and rejoined the others on the road.  They put a few more miles behind them before breaking for the evening.  The next few days brought no new surprises and except for the occasional break to eat, they rode on uninterrupted.  

It was well past noon on the third day when Gorak returned from scouting.  Changing form in front of them, he dropped the last few feet to the ground and landed on his feet.  Shayla took one look at him and remarked,  “So do you actually picture yourself scowling like that while you're shifting, or is that just your natural expression?”

“Funny.” Gorak grunted. “You won't be laughing in a few days when you're soaking wet.  Our friend Jakob wasn't kidding.  From up there, I know what he was talking about.  That rain cloud stretches for miles, farther than I can see.”

Mid morning on the following day brought a bruise coloured smudge to the horizon, eerily reminiscent of the black cloud that precipitated their adventure, what felt like a lifetime before.  Its presence cast a pall over their already strained mood.  Conversation, which had been sparse, almost completely ceased and  Khalid, Shayla and Azarek rode in silence while they awaited Gorak's return.  Unsurprisingly, he alone among them seemed unfazed by the perpetual storm clouds that darkened the sky ahead.

Shayla in particular seemed troubled by what lay ahead.  Khalid had been surreptitiously watching her since the events in the forest.  In the days immediately after, she had worn the magical earring almost constantly, using it to mimic a form similar to her old appearance.  Recently she'd practically abandoned it, choosing instead to appear in her new form.  The tight fitting black leathers she'd acquired in the Hub served to make her pale skin stand out all the more, and she rarely bothered to even pull back her long, straight, black hair.  Occasionally, Khalid caught glimpses of the old Shayla in her banter with Gorak, but  she almost never smiled.  It was clear that while Gorak's magic had removed all traces of physical wounds, there were others of a deeper sort that still plagued her.

Offering her his hand, Khalid helped her into the magical dimension he created that night, and then pulled in the rope, sealing the entrance.  Breathing a sigh of relief, as he often did when he was once again protected by the security of his magic, Khalid began to unpack his bedroll.  Drawing out a hard baked biscuit from the supplies they'd acquired in town, he sat down with his spellbook, absently nibbling on the bread.  He barely had time to review his recent notes when Shayla spoke.

“So I think it's time we discussed exactly what we're doing here.”

“I thought we was gonna go check out this rain cloud,” Gorak rumbled, looking up from his pack.

“What exactly is that going to accomplish?” she asked.  

“Ah, well, the people of the Hub...” Khalid began.

“Can save themselves,” Shayla interrupted.  “We're not going to win this war alone, and nobody else seems to give a damn enough to try.  You heard Jakob.  This road is littered with traps.  Eventually we're going to run into one we can't handle.”

Khalid frowned.  “Ah, well, when you put it that way.  The Dwerro are undoubtedly watching the road.”

“I still think we should check out this swamp,” Gorak rumbled.

“Of course you do,” Shayla replied, somewhat causticly.  “It's the most miserable, unpleasant, dangerous place nearby.  But we could spend months wandering around in there without finding any clue as to what's causing it.   And while that might be your idea of a good time, it sure isn't mine.”

“So we just run away?” Gorak growled.

“Run away?” Shayla retorted.  “From an unwinnable war against an implacable foe?  If that's what you want to call it, then sure.  But in case you forgot, we made a deal with Arbaq.  And while we never promised him we'd succeed, if we're just going to give up on that, he at least deserves to hear it from us.”

“Ah, she has a point, Gorak,” Khalid said.  “It pains me to see what the Dwerro have done, but to throw ourselves heedlessly against their might, well, perhaps our current course of action merits a sober second thought.  Yes, quite.”

“Even after what we went through at Caer Morag?”

“At least there, we had a reason for what we were doing,” Shayla replied.  “This is just aimless wandering.  And you can bet that the Dwerro have a measure of our skill now.” She looked rather pointedly at Khalid.  “Zarum owed you a favour for saving his life, but the rest of them won't be that friendly.  Given what he told us, you have to believe that they're searching for you.”

Khalid's frown deepened as he considered her words.  “Ah, yes, well, I do now,” he muttered.

“Fine,” Gorak grunted.  “Let's sleep on it.  If you both feel the same way in the morning, I won't argue.”  

The exchange soured Khalid's mood to the point where even the prospect of a few hours study wasn't enough to hold his concentration.  Abandoning his work, he pulled his bedroll up around his shoulders, and drifted into a fitful, uneasy sleep.  Beset by nightmares of grasping Dwerro pulling his spellbook from his cold dead hands, he awoke more tired then he had been the night before, but with his mind made up.

Gorak took one look at his expression and then glanced at Shayla.  Without even asking, he knew what their answer would be.  “So now where?” he growled.

“Home,” was all Shayla replied.

“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.

“Just to let Arbaq know we failed?” Gorak growled.  “That's a helluva long way just to say we're sorry.”

“Ah, perhaps would should return to Martok on the way back.  I suspect, yes, suspect that Vestalt had more on his mind then just ruining our day when he kidnapped the Dwerro we, ah, well, kidnapped.”

“Well, if he does, hopefully it will take him time to get organized on this side of the mountain.  Either way, we still got that curse to think our way through.  But it's something at least,” Gorak relented grudgingly.  “North then?”

“It would seem the logical choice.  Yes, quite.”  Pulling out their map, he spread it out on the hazy floor of the pocket dimension.  “Ah, I see no reason to return to the Hub.  It is possible, albeit unlikely, that advance elements of the Dwerro army have already reached the city.  I would suggest that we leave the road immediately.  Save for these few scattered hamlets along the coast to the northeast, and some villages along the rivers and lakes, the northern plains seem relatively uninhabited.  We should be able to avoid any unwanted attention with ease.  Yes, quite.”

The decision made, they abandoned their shelter and climbed onto Khalid's summoned mounts.  Turning off the road, they skirted the edge of the foothills to the north that Jakob had warned them about.  While not as easy as the road, the grasslands were smooth and relatively flat, and their steady pace ate up the miles.

A few days after they'd left the road, Khalid awoke from a sound slumber, in the middle of the night.  Glancing around the tiny extra-dimensional space, he tried to find the source of his disturbance.  With some concern, he realized that the opening to the portal had been unsealed, and the rope had been lowered.  Gorak and Azarek were in their bedrolls, asleep, but Shayla's blankets were piled in a rumpled ball.  Moving quietly, so as not to wake the others, Khalid gathered up his robes, and climbed out of the shelter to investigate.  Shivering in the cool night air, he pulled his robes over his head while his eyes adjusted to the dim light of a full moon.  Overhead, a canopy of stars glittered around the enormous orb of the moon.  Shayla was standing a few dozen feet from the entrance, with her back to him and seemed unaware of his presence.  Hands balled into fists at her sides, she muttered a few words under her breath, then stood motionless.  Khalid, unsure of what was going on, approached her cautiously.  A few seconds later, her shoulders slumped and her head tilted down, her long black hair falling in front of her face.

“Ah, Shayla?” he asked.  Jerking around at the sound of his voice, she quickly rubbed her sleeve across her eyes.  “Ah, sorry, yes, quite.  I did not mean to startle you.  Is everything all right?”

“No,” she replied.  Seconds passed, and then her words came tumbling out, frustration marring the melodic sound of her voice.  “Nothing is all right.  I can't seem to sleep much anymore and when I do, it's just nightmares of that place.  Ever since I came back, everything is wrong.  I feel weak and tired, and angry.  I can't concentrate and I can't feel the flow of magic like I used to.”  She closed her eyes and began to chant.  Khalid could see her struggling, could sense the weaves gathering around her.  Her eyes flew open and she pointed a long slender finger out over the plains.  Expecting a burst of flame, Khalid shielded his eyes from the light, only to hear a faint hissing sound like a rustling breeze.  Squinting into the darkness, he could see that the grass in front of her was curled and dead, still sizzling slightly from the noxious jet of vapour that streamed from her hands.

“Two weeks ago, there would have been a smoking crater out there the size of Arbaq's study,” she said bitterly.  “Now that's the limit of my control.  Magic I mastered months ago.  And even that is tainted and different.”

Unsure of what to say, Khalid moved up beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.  “Ah, yes, well, I'm sure that with practise you will regain your skill.  The ordeal has been taxing, in ways I can not begin to comprehend.”

She sighed.  “I suppose your right,” she replied, but Khalid could sense the doubt in her voice.  “Just do me a favour, and don't tell Gorak what I said.  I don't want him to think I'm not grateful for getting me out of that place.”

“Ah, yes.  Of course.”  He pulled his robes tight around his shoulders against the chill.  “It's late, you should return to the portal and try to rest.  Morning will arrive far too soon.”

Shayla shook her head.  “I think I'm going to stay out here a bit longer.”  Seeing Khalid about to object, she raised a hand to stop him.  “Don't worry Khalid, I'll be fine.  For all my complaining, I'm not completely defenceless.”

“Very well.”  He left her to her brooding, and returned to his bed.  Despite her assurances, he stayed awake until she returned, rolling over and pretending to be asleep, knowing that his concern would only make her feel worse.

They didn't speak of it again, and true to his word, Khalid said nothing to Gorak about their discussion.    The unending sea of grass before them bore little signs of civilization.  In places, stands of trees dotted the landscape, untouched by any axe, and teeming with wildlife.  Able to outpace them easily in his animal forms, Gorak spent time hunting and foraging.  More out of boredom then any real need to supplement their stores Khalid suspected, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about a little variety.  

Khalid spent much of his time in the saddle, poring over his spellbook, putting the finishing touches on one of his newest endeavours.  Having discovered a way to greatly fortify his magical invisibility at the expense of its duration, he was reviewing his notes to ensure he hadn't overlooked anything when Gorak returned from scouting.  Reverting to his natural form, he joined them on foot, and they dismounted to stretch their legs a bit, after half a day on horseback.  Gorak took the lead, ranging out ahead a dozen yards or so.  Holding his reins in one hand, and his spellbook in the other, Khalid absently followed Shayla and Azarek, mouthing the words to the spell over and over.

A strange whistling sound caused him to glance up from his book.  In front of him, Shayla had stopped, and oddly, a swath of the waist high grass around her was sifting to the ground.  Before his mind could make sense of the scene, she turned around slowly.

“Khalid,” she managed weakly, a bloody bubble bursting on her lips before she sagged forward, reins dropping from her hand while the other clutched at the foot long ebony spine buried deep in her chest.  Before he could so much as move, a hideous shriek split the air and chaos descended on them.

* * * * * * * * *​Notes:
*  Heh, I'm pretty sure at this point in the game there was a fairly in depth discussion of just what telepathy allows you to do.  The description of telepathy is a bit vague - if I remember correctly, it just says that it allows you to "communicate" with any creature that has a language.  In the end, Galeman decided to allow Khalid to understand all languages as a result.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

EternalNewbie said:
			
		

> “Khalid,” she managed weakly, a bloody bubble bursting on her lips before she sagged forward, reins dropping from her hand while the other clutched at the foot long ebony spine buried deep in her chest. Before he could so much as move, a hideous shriek split the air and chaos descended on them.






Nice cliffhanger.

I was wondering if the party had a clear goal in mind setting off after that rainstorm ... I guess not really.

Anyway, looking forward to more, whichever direction they go ...


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## EternalNewbie

We had a bit of an identity crisis here - for a while, we actually thought we were heroes, aiding people in distress for purely altruistic reasons.  But as you see, we got over it pretty quickly and got back to serving our own self interests.

Heh, actually, I suspect there might have been a long break between games at that point, and when we sat down to play again, we reorganized our priorities, turning away from the war to focus on the Arbaq situation.  For the most part, Galeman's perfectly happy to let players ignore the story arc and wander around causing mayhem, making up adventures on the fly.  At this point however, we were pretty deep into it, so we figured we'd make his life a little easier, and play along... 

In retrospect...maybe we should have gone to the swamp


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

EternalNewbie said:


> We had a bit of an identity crisis here - for a while, we actually thought we were heroes, aiding people in distress for purely altruistic reasons.  But as you see, we got over it pretty quickly and got back to serving our own self interests.




Glad to hear it - wouldn't want you going all mushy on us. 




> In retrospect...maybe we should have gone to the swamp




Well OBVIOUSLY ... that was always going to be the case ... unless you actually had gone to the swamp.


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## TaranTheWanderer

I think we were dragging our feet.  We set out originally to go into Martok, but we hit a serious snag: the curse - "to enter Martok you must give up what you value the most!".  I'm not sure how that comes across in the Story Hour, but no-one wanted to do that so our next option was to go to Caer Morag and find a solution in the library and when that failed we were out of luck.  I think our aimless wandering came from the fact that none of us wanted to face Martok.  So our characters were putting off the inevitable.  By the time we hit the edge of the storm, we decided to re-focus.  This happens one other time later on in the story hour where we know what we have to do but, for some reason, put it off...

If you're wondering what the characters value the most, I think it's pretty fair to say it's their power - although for Gorak, it was a toss-up between that and his snake 

- Shayla's power is rooted in her force of personality and it defines her: from the beginning when her father gave her her inheritance then kicked her out because she was "different".  I think she's trying to prove herself (but that's just my opinion);
- Gorak is trying to be omiscient/immortal/"one with the universe" - escape his mortal bonds;
- and Khalid...well I shouldn't speak for Khalid, but I think it's obvious...it's all about the chicks!


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## EternalNewbie

Khalid recognized the beast from his studies at the White Tower, although he could scarcely believe his eyes.  Huge webbed wings, like those of a bat, propelled the feline body through the air with uncanny speed.  The black mane that surrounded the feral, lion like head was mangy and tattered.  A long, sinuous tail, studded with needle sharp quills of varying sizes arched high over the creatures back, as it wheeled in the air, turning for another pass.  Oddly, a swirling cloud of ravens trailed in its wake, descending out of the clouds in large numbers.

With Shayla mortally wounded, Khalid saw little possibility of victory.  Given the ease with which the creature had felled her, trying to drive it away without her considerable power would be next to impossible.  His options for dealing with a flying opponent were severely limited and while Azarek had his bow, it would take incredible skill and accuracy to pierce the creature's thick hide as it raced past.  Even if Gorak could manage to occupy it, there was little chance they could protect Shayla from another pass, out here on the open plain.

_Azarek!  Grab Shayla.  Gorak, we've got to get away from this thing.  Without Shayla we cannot hope to defeat it._  Uncoiling the length of rope wrapped around his waist, he tossed it to the ground while he hastily went through the complex formula that opened their sanctuary.  Azarek, sweeping the shield off his back, held it high over his head and ran to Shayla's crumpled form.  Seizing her by the front of her tunic, he picked her up with one hand and threw her over his shoulder.   Staggering back to Khalid, he flexed his legs and hurled her upwards through the magical portal.

The creature roared in anger when it saw its prey escaping into thin air.  It swooped low toward Gorak, who was turning to rejoin the others.   The long segmented tail whipped down, sending a cloud of spikes buzzing through the air.  Barely able to raise his shield in time, Gorak grunted and staggered, falling to his knees.  The largest of the spines were driven deep into his darkwood shield, but several more landed true, sinking into the thick muscles of his legs and abdomen.

Khalid grabbed hold of the rope as Azarek's boot disappeared above him.  He stopped, looking back over his shoulder at Gorak, who was still several dozen yards away.

Seeing him hesitate, Gorak roared, “Go damn you!  Don't wait for me!”  

The creature banked hard above them, gaining altitude and position for another pass.  Khalid's heart hammered in his chest and he saw the resignation in Gorak's face.  Both of them knew there was no way he would make it to the portal before the creature attacked again.  Dropping to the ground, he turtled under his shield.  “Go!” he roared again, as the beast closed on him.  Seizing the rope with his other hand, Khalid reluctantly heeded the command and climbed up.

Inside, Azarek was futilely trying to stem the flow of blood from Shayla's wounds.  “She's still alive,” he rasped, pressing a tattered strip of cloth around the wound in her stomach.  “Barely.  But if Gorak don't get in 'ere right quick, he's gonna need to fetch her outta the underworld agin.”  Khalid breathed a sigh of relief, fumbling around at his waist for a healing potion.  Before he could administer it, Gorak's head appeared through the gateway.

“Little help?” he growled, clutching at the edge of the portal.  Azarek leaned over and seized his arm, dragging him through the entrance, then pulled the rope up behind.  Oozing blood from countless wounds, he dragged himself over to Shayla.  “Sit her up,” he directed Azarek.

“Ah, can't you just heal her?” Khalid said anxiously.
“Ain't no magic of mine gonna fix her with that spike lodged in her guts.”  He looked at Azarek.   “We can't pull it out, the barbs will rip her apart.  We're gonna have to time this real good.  It ain't digging into anything too vital, so you're gonna have to drive it right through her at the same time I mend her up.”

Placing one arm around her shoulders, Azarek propped Shayla up and grabbed the spine in her abdomen with his other hand.  “Khalid,” he rasped.  “Yer gonna have to steady her.  I'ma gonna need  both hands fer this.”  Moving to his side, Khalid helped hold her upright.  Azarek took a deep breath, then, with a look at Gorak, nodded his head.

Gorak closed his eyes and gathered his focus.  Sweat dropped down his face as he began to chant, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.  Opening his eyes, he held his hand above the wound.  “Now,” he barked.

Shayla's eyes flew open and she gasped in pain as Azarek drove the spike into her stomach, seizing it on the other side and pulling it clear through.  Gorak plunged his hand into the wound, and completed the spell.  Drawing it out, covered in blood and bile, he left behind a smooth patch of unbroken skin.

With a shuddering groan, Shayla leaned heavily into Khalid.  “Why,” she muttered weakly, “does that always happen to me?”  

Khalid held her close for a moment, until she stopped shaking.  Turning to Gorak, he asked, “Ah, how did you escape the beast?”

“Bitch must have run outta ammo,” he grunted.  “Gave me one more good dusting, but couldn't finished the job before I got in here.”  He pulled his waterskin off his belt and held it out to Azarek.  “Ya mind?”  As Azarek unscrewed the top, Khalid realized that Gorak hadn't yet let go of his shield.  Taking a long pull, he tossed the empty flask to Khalid.  “My turn now,” he growled.  Holding up his shield arm, Khalid could see half a dozen spikes buried in the wood.  The largest, in the middle, had passed clear through, piercing the thick muscles of his forearm and protruding from the other side.  Examining him closely, Khalid realized that Gorak was covered in wounds.  Dozens of spikes, ranging from several inches to almost a foot long covered the length of his body, buried deep in his legs and shoulder.

“Drive 'er through or yank 'er out?”  Azarek asked.

“Yank it out,” Gorak growled.  “You'd have to pound on that bastard for an hour to get it through the darkwood and its thicker at the base then the tip.  Gonna have to clip the barbs off first, and then cut the straps of my shield.

“Better bite down on sumthin'” Azarek growled, taking off his helm and setting it on the floor.  “This is gonna hurt.”

“Don't I know it,” Gorak growled.  “Jus get on wit it.”  Leaning over, Gorak rested the barbed tip on the top of Azarek's helm.

Azarek pulled out the magical dagger from its sheath, he cut the leather straps that held the shield in place on Gorak's arm, then placed the edge against the spine.  Raising the Dwerro hammer over his head, he brought it down on the edge of the knife without so much as a warning.  Gorak grunted in pain as the tip snapped off.

“That wasn't so bad,” he growled with a shaky grin.  “Now for the fun part.”  He rolled over on his stomach and stretched out his arm.  “Make the first pull a good one, cause I sure don't wanna do this twice.

Azarek stood up, placing one foot on Gorak's hand and the other on his shoulder.  Bending over, he grabbed he shield with both and pulled, yanking it free.  Gorak sat up, clamping his other hand over the wound.  “Now take that knife and cut the one outta my shoulder, and maybe that big one in my leg too.”

Never squeamish, Azarek obliged him.  By the time he was finished, Gorak's skin had turned ashen grey, and his breathing was uneven.   Blood streamed over his skin, collecting in pools around him.  “That oughta do 'er,” he grumbled.  Muttering a few words under his breath, he directed his healing magic inward.  The small spines clattered to the ground as his injuries mended.  Looking at Khalid, he asked, “So jus what in the nine hells was that thing?”

“Ah, I've read about creatures such as that.  It's called a manticore.  It is the bastard offspring of cursed magic.  Parts of various beasts fused, yes, fused together by a crazed magi.  Supposedly, a pair of them maganed to escape, and breed, evidently.  However, they have not been seen in centuries.  I had thought them only legends.”  He offered them a wry grin.  “Ah, but then again, I probably would have said the same about dragons, a year ago.  Yes, quite.”  Falling silent for a moment, he replayed the encounter in his mind.  “What did you make of the crows that trailed the monster?”

“Dunno,” Gorak grunted.  “Seemed a bit off, eh?  Crows is smart though.  Maybe they're just opportunists.  Too small to be a meal and lots of carrion left over.  Anyhow, it ain't them we gotta be worried about.  That thing won't get the drop on us twice.”

The took the day to recovered from the ambush.  In the morning, Gorak cautiously dropped out of the portal and had a look around.  Signalling the all clear after a few minutes of scouting, the others joined him and they resumed their trek.

Mid afternoon found them atop a small ridge, looking down over a shallow lake basin.  A small cluster of houses surrounded the bank, spanning the single river that cut the valley.

“So we going in there, or what?”  Shayla asked.

“Ah, well, we've been on the road for some time now.  A hot meal and a decent place to sleep would be a welcome, yes, welcome change.”  Khalid offered.

“Sure,” Gorak grunted.  “There can't be Dwerro this far north already.”

Decided, they rode toward the tiny hamlet.  As they neared, a sense of unease began to weigh upon Khalid, although he couldn't place it's source.  Finally, he figured out what was bothering him.  “Ah, it might be only early afternoon, but wouldn't you expect at least a few of the chimneys to be smoking?  Surely, yes, surely someone in town should have a fire lit.”

“Yeah,” Gorak growled in agreement.  “I ain't seen anybody moving around down there since we came over that hill.  Better get ready.”

Azarek settled his helm and strapped on his shield.  Unsheathing his sword, he nudged his horse into the lead.  Nearing the town, Khalid noticed that the fields had been tilled but not planted, although it was well into summer.  Weeds and grasses had taken root among the rows and the wildflowers hummed with the sounds of bees, but there little sign of any habitation.  Turning, they moved onto the dirt track that passed as the main street of the town and headed toward the harbour.  A lone crow watched them from the eave of a squat log house, cocking its head to the side as they passed.  With a shrill cry, it took to wing, and vanished into the clouds overhead.

“Ah, that's ominous,” Khalid commented.

“There,” Gorak barked, pointing at one of the houses.  “I just saw that shutter move.  Maybe there's still somebody around here after all.  Hang back a bit, I'm gonna go check it out.”

Staying close enough to help if need be, they watched him approach the small house.  Abandoning all pretence of stealth, he hammered on the door.  “Open up.  I know yer in there,” he growled.

There was a faint sound of movement from within, then a querulous voice replied, “Go away!  There's nothing here for likes of you but death.  Leave now while you're still able!”

Gorak looked back over his shoulder and shrugged, at a loss for a course of action.  Receiving nothing in the way of a helpful suggestion from the others, he pounded on the door again.  “We're ain't going nowhere until you tell us what's going on.  Now open up this door before I kick it down.”

The voice inside didn't respond to his challenge.  Gorak dismounted and was preparing to carry through on his threat when the door on a house a few feet away opened with a bang.  A wizened old man stuck his head out and called,  “He ain't gonna open that door.  None of 'em are.”   

Khalid studied the old man for a second before responding.  Tufts of white hair surrounded his bald crown, and his peasant garb was stained and dirty, hanging off his slight frame.  His rheumy eyes were narrowed in a permanent squint, staring out from hollow cheeks.  “Ah, then perhaps you can tell us what's going on here, why your fields lie fallow and the people hide in fear.  Is it the Dwerro?”

“Dwerro?  No, there ain't no Dwerro around here,” The old man replied.  He was about to continue, when a shrill voice rang out from inside.  

“What are you doing, you old fool!  Send them on their way before you bring down doom on all of us!”

“Quiet woman!” he barked.  “What doom could we suffer that's worse than this?  Come winter, we're all gonna starve anyhow.  And you heard the big fella.  If we don't let him in, he's just gonna open the door with his foot, and I reckon a sore leg ain't gonna improve his mood none.”  He waved them over.  “You best get outta the street.  It ain't safe.”

The followed the old man into his tiny house.  The furnishings were sparse but the interior was tidy.  A simple table and set of chairs adorned the room, which appeared to serve as both the kitchen and main living area.  As they entered, the single door leading off the room slammed shut.

“Don't mind her,” the old man instructed.  “She's always mad at me for some reason or another.  Might as well be a good one.”

Cutting through the pleasantries with his usual tact, Gorak asked, “So you wanna tell us what's going on around here?”

“This town is cursed,” the old man replied simply.

Snapping his fingers, Khalid interrupted.  “Ah, the monster yes?  The flying beast?  It is what keeps you trapped within your homes?”

“So you've seen it then?” The old man seemed surprised.  “And you got away?”

“Obviously,” Shayla muttered.

“Well, don't that beat all.  Usually when that thing shows up, somebody dies.”

“Ah, yes, that thing is called a manticore.  It's an aberration, born of fell magics.” Khalid instructed, speaking slowly so as not to confuse the old man.

“Might as well call it death,” the old man replied, with a resigned shrug.  “That's what it is.  To this town anyhow.  But it ain't no more then we deserve.”

“Maybe you'd better start from the beginning,” Gorak growled.

“I'm trying, but you all keep interrupting,” the old man grumbled.  “It started showing up a few months back, after Edgar and Beowin and their boy were driven outta town.”

“I think I know where this is going,” Shayla muttered.

“Well, ain't you a clever one then.  The boy always was a bit off, if you know what I mean, but not so much as to get everybody all stirred up.  Had a bit of a reputation for being nearby when there was strange goings on.  But his folks was well liked, so nobody really paid it too much mind.”

“Until?” Gorak grunted.

“Until all the pigs turned up dead and the cows milk went sour,” the old man replied.  “After that, people weren't so forgivin'.”

“Always with the sour milk,” Shayla muttered bitterly.  “That could have just been a coincidence.”  Khalid glanced at her, somewhat surprised by the anger in her voice.  “I couldn't sour milk if my life depended on it,” she muttered under her breath, scowling.  

The old man nodded.  “Maybe so, but when people's livelihoods is on the line, well, they don't think none to clearly.  They drove the boy and his folks out of town.  Now, Edgar and Beowin, they were begging and pleading with folks they'd known their whole life, not to do it but the boy, he just got real quiet like.  With the whole village standing their at the edge of town, murder in their eyes, he just turnt around, calm like it were just another day on the farm, and levels a look cold enough to freeze water in high summer.  In a voice like thunder, he tells them all their gonna regret what they done, and see their lives ruined the same way.  Folks didn't pay no mind to him and just went back to their daily business.  But the boy, well, he sure showed them.”
“And where were you during all this?” Shayla asked.

“Listen little girl,” the old man replied, bristling at the implication. “I ain't got but a few more years to make my peace with the gods, but I ain't in no rush ta get on with it.  The boy din't kill none of my livestock, but if I'd put up a hollar, those pitchforks woulda been jabbin inta my behind just as quick.”

“So what are you gonna do now?” Gorak asked.

“Wither up and die, I suspect,” the old man replied in a hopeless tone.  “The granary's bare and every time we try to go out and plant, a huge flock of ravens shows up and drives everybody out of the fields.  People are too frightened to leave their houses.”

“Sounds like it's high time to pack it in and leave,” Gorak suggested.

“ Some folks tried to make a run fer it a while back, but that manteeker or whatever you call it dropped their bodies right there in the town square, to show us all how far that'd get us.”  The old man sighed.  “No sir.  I think we're all done fer.”

“Ah, there are perhaps a few things we need to discuss,” Khalid said, motioning at Shayla for their magical pack.  Digging out a cloth wrapped bundle of rations, he handed to the old man.  “If you would perhaps adjourn to the other room, so that we make speak privately.  Yes, quite.”

“Young fella, right now I'd just about sell you my house for that food.  Take all the time you need.”  The old man scooped up the package and left the room, closing the door behind.

“Ah, yes, well, are we going to involve ourselves in this?” Khalid asked.

“I don't see why we should,” Shayla snapped.  “These people brought this mess on themselves, and I'd rather not have a repeat of yesterday.  Once was enough.”

“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.  “But nevertheless, we may have cause to return to the east in the future.  With the Dwerro firmly in control of the south, we might come to rely on these remote villages.  And it is in place such as this that rebellion might form.”

“Hah,” Shayla scoffed.  “These peasants aren't exactly the guerrilla warrior types.”

“Yes, but still,” Khalid responded, looking at Gorak, “the value of supplies and sanctuary cannot be overestimated.  What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Seems like its got a lot of possibility of getting messy,” Gorak growled.  “But I'm not sure we've got a choice.  We can make a run for it.  I can maybe get us clear before that thing finds us but if the weather holds, it's gonna be hard to avoid being spotted.  If we risk it and get caught, we're gonna be easy pickings out on the plains.  We already ducked it once but I'm guessing he ain't the sort to just let that go.  Maybe its best if we pick the spot to settle it.”

“We are agreed then?” Khalid asked, looking back to Shayla.

“Fine,” she relented.  “But my power isn't what it used to be.  We're gonna have to pull it in damn close.”

“And the ravens will have to be addressed,” Khalid added.

“Right,” Gorak grunted.  “I'm gonna go take a look around town, see what kinda options we got.  You three stay put.”  He raised his voice.  “Old man.”  The door opened and the old man stuck his head into the room.  “Where's this granary?”

“Up the street, near the center of town.”

“Alright.  We're gonna see if we can't fix your little problem here.”  He pulled open the door, shifted form and flew out into the street.

The old man watched him go with a look of surprise on his face.  “Watch out for them birds, it's how he keeps tabs on us,” he called out after him.  Turning to the others, he said, “If he hadn't just done that, I'd have laughed out loud.  But maybe you can at that.  My thanks.”

“Don't thank us yet,” Shayla replied.  While they waited for Gorak to return, they prepared themselves for the coming battle, knowing that the beast could descend upon them without warning.  

Half an hour later, Gorak returned.  “This might just work out,” he growled.  “The granary should give us cover.  It's solid, with lots of room for the three of us and the door is big enough for it to squeeze through.”

“That's not good,” Shayla commented with a frown.

“Ah, yes, on the contrary,” Khalid said, recognizing Gorak's intentions.  “We might be able to goad him into your range if he thinks he can finish us off.”

“Whut about them birds?” Azarek asked.

“Ah, yes, if I take up a position near the front I should be able to deal with the vast majority of them,” Khalid replied.

“I got a few things that might help but if there's magic controlling them, we'll have to get rid of them the hard way.” Gorak added.

“So how we gonna get it down here? Azarek rasped.  Gorak just looked at him, with an evil grin.

“Glad I asked,” Azarek muttered.  He glanced at Khalid, who was looking at him hopefully.  “Fine,” he growled.  “I'll be the bait.  When?”

“Tomorrow, if he don't come for us sooner,” Gorak rumbled.

They spent a tense evening within the dubious shelter of the old man's home, taking advantage of his hospitality though he had little to offer them.  Early in the morning, shortly after Gorak had finished communing, they made their way quickly to the center of town.  Throwing up the latch, Gorak swung the two heavy wooden doors open and walked inside.  Khalid and Shayla followed him into the two story brick building.  Taking up a position by the door, Khalid kept a close eye on Azarek while Shayla moved further back.  At Gorak's signal, Azarek slipped of his shield and flipped it around, holding up the hammered steel back.   Turning it slightly, he caught the rays of the early morning sun, causing it to flash into the sky.

The temperature inside the granary rose with the sun, and Khalid began to sweat heavily.  Despite the heat, a shiver ran through him when Azarek finally put his shield back on and drew his sword.  “Get ready,” he growled.  “Here it comes.”


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

Congrats to EN and his wife (who plays Shayla) on their new baby.  Also to Galeman, our DM, who's getting married this weekend (on my b-day, no less!).


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## pogre

TaranTheWanderer said:


> Congrats to EN and his wife (who plays Shayla) on their new baby.  Also to Galeman, our DM, who's getting married this weekend (on my b-day, no less!).




Congrats indeed...wait, no...Forget all this real life stuff! Ignore this bump at your own peril!

Seriously, I'm awed you came back to continue writing this great SH. I know when it started I only had two kids, now I have four - I have increased my workload and resposibilities - so, I totally understand the real life stuff. I have not roleplayed much at all this year. I certainly have not had an active SH for over five years.

EN the first 6 months with a baby can be tough, but hang in there man it gets a lot better.

Good luck Galeman. It's the best/worst life move you have ever made. Fellow married men know exactly what I mean. 15 _blissful_ years for me (in case the better half reads this  ).


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## TaranTheWanderer

Bump.

Because there could be an update in the works very soon.....


----------



## EternalNewbie

Azarek sprinted through the door, turning sharply to his right and pressing his back up against the wall.  “Ravens,” he rasped, lifting his shield up to cover his face.

Khalid, standing across from him on the other side of the main doors, readied his spell.  A thought nagged at him, something about grain dust, but he quickly pushed it aside.   As the first few ravens flew past, he unleashed his magic.  A torrent of white hot embers swirled through the door, incinerating dozens of the birds.  Shayla cursed and ducked aside as tiny smoking corpses tumbled across the granary, crashing into the back wall.  The air inside filled with smoke and the screeches of the dying ravens.

Impressive though it might have looked, the spell did little to diminish the maelstrom of talons and feathers that engulfed them.  For every bird felled, ten more took its place, flying through the door to claw and peck at their exposed skin.  “Khalid!” Shayla shrieked, trying to protect her face, “do something!”

Edging away from the main door, Khalid tried to maintain his focus.  Concentrating through the pain, he brought his magic to bear again, this time angling the flames straight up at the mass of birds whirling above.  The smoke became so thick he could barely see the others through the haze.  Gagging on the smell of charred carrion, he stumbled backwards toward the small side door.

Gorak spat out the words to a spell, setting both his hands alight with flame.  Waving them in front of his face to keep the ravens at bay, he roared over the din.  “Azarek!” Gorak roared, “what's that big bitch doing?”

Azarek, faring better than the others thanks to his armor, stepped out in front of the door, the edge of his shield held level with his eyes.  An odd ringing filled the air as several birds ricocheted of his metal clad body to fall stunned upon the floor.  “Jus sitting there!” he yelled back.  “No wait!”  He cursed.  “It ain't taking the bait.  It jus took off.”

The stench and smoke and pain became too much for Khalid.  He had expected his spells to have more effect and consequently had only prepared two castings.  Groping for the handle of the door, he flung it open, and staggered out into the sunlight.   Gorak and Shayla, realizing the situation was turning against them, fled toward the main entrance. 

Khalid sidled along the outside of the granary, trying his best to remain unnoticed.  Unsure of where the manticore was, he decided to put as much distance between himself and where he knew it had last been.  Ravens fluttered around him, swooping and diving as they tried to find a way into the building.  From inside, he could hear Gorak shouting in anger and pain.  Feeling worse than useless, Khalid continued on.  Turning the corner, he realized that he'd made a terrible mistake.  The manticore was directly ahead of him.  He cringed and was about to run but the beast didn't shower him with spines.  It seemed not to have noticed him, and continued on its course, flying away from the village, out over the barren fields that surrounded the town.  Having little magic available to deal with an airborne threat, he considered the wisdom of interrupting the creature's flight.  He allowed the creature to fly a little further away before resolving to make one last attempt.  If the creature was a conjuration, or ensorcelled in some manner, he could yet cause its master some grief.  Muttering the words to a spell as quickly and quietly as he could, Khalid unleashed his spell.  When the final syllable left his mouth, he stood there slack jawed, blinking in surprise.

Khalid's magic unravelled the spell surrounding the beast.  The manticore shimmered and warped back into the form of a young man, who promptly emitted a blood curdling shriek and plummeted several hundred feet to ground.  Khalid averted his eyes at the last second, although he knew instantly that the sound of the impact would forevermore haunt his thoughts every time he took to air.*

“Well,” Shayla remarked, emerging from around the side of the granary, with Gorak and Azarek in tow.  “I bet he wasn't expecting that.”

“Probably wouldn't have bounced so high if'n he was,” Gorak grunted in agreement.  “Nice work, Khalid.”  Behind them, the remaining ravens scattered into the sky, the magic binding them ended with the death of their master.

With what Khalid felt was an over abundance of morbid curiosity, Gorak, Shayla and Azarek went to inspect the remains of their fallen foe.  Khalid reluctantly tagged along, trailing well behind.  A single glimpse told him everything he needed to know.  The sorcerer, the boy Garon presumably, had not survived the fall after Khalid had dispelled his shifted form.  His broken body lay twisted upon the earth, his threadbare peasant garb, covered with blood.  Although he knew the boy had left him little choice, he still felt no elation at their victory.  With a sigh, he turned to head back to town, when Azarek brought him up short.

“Whadda ya make of that,” he rasped, nudging the body over with the toe of his boot.  Spattered with gore was a long black cloak, made from what appeared to be feathers.

Shayla muttered a few words under her breath and stared intently at the garment.  “It's radiating magic,” she said.  Bending down, she removed the clasp, then picked it up gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, trying to avoid getting blood on her hands.  “No sense leaving it for those yokels in town,” she added.  “Gorak, you wanna help me out here?”  Khalid glanced over, somewhat unsettled by her tone, but her face was an expressionless mask.

Gorak grumbled out the words to a spell, dousing the cloak a deluge of water.  It came instantly clean, the blood running off it in rivulets and pooling at Shayla's feet.  In the mid-morning sun, the black feathers shone with an oily sheen.   Shaking the water from it, Shayla folded it up and placed it within their magical haversack.  A small frown crossed her face as she threw the rucksack over her shoulder.  “There's something else...” she trailed off, eyes narrowing in concentration.  She moved a few dozen paces away from the body, scanning the ground.  Some thirty feet away, she knelt down and picked up a polished black staff, from where it lay hidden in the long grass.

Finding nothing else of interest, and having no desire to gloat over their vanquished enemy, they returned to town.  As they approached, doors began to open and people flooded out into the street.  Word of the battle spread quickly, and soon the entire village surrounded them.  Tears of gratitude dampened more than one cheek, and they were bombarded with thanks from all directions.  Somewhat embarrassed and ill at ease in the crowd, Khalid sought to stay close to Gorak and Shayla.  Soon, one voice rose above the din.

“The whole village thanks you for what you've done.  We don't have much, but what we have, is yours.”  The crowd quieted down a little, and a middle aged man with the build of a smith stepped forward.  The man's blond hair was fading to grey, but his powerful frame showed little signs of age.  Khalid judged him to be some sort of unofficial leader of the town, based on the way the others looked to him.

“I doubt you got anything we need, but thanks anyhow,” Gorak rumbled.  “Now, are there any places around here he might hole up?  He may have left a few surprises behind, and since we're not going no place today, we might as well take a look.”

The speaker glanced around the gathered crowd.  From behind him, a tentative voice spoke up.  “The last two times he flew over the town, he came from over the lake.  There are some low cliffs over that, that have some crevices and fissure's running through 'em.  Might be that there's a place there he coulda found.”

“Right,” Gorak grunted.  “In that case, there is something you can do.  Somebody lend us a boat.”

A dozen offers were shouted out.  Gorak pointed at the man closest to him.  “Fine, we'll take yours.  That should do 'er.”

“Ah, yes, well there is something else I require,” Khalid added.  When they turned and looked at him, he blurted, “Jewellery, yes quite.”  Ignoring Gorak's strange look, he continued quickly.  “Heirlooms, broaches, rings, earrings, necklaces and the like.  I will, yes, will not take much.”

“It's the least we can do,” the blond man replied.  “We'll take up a collection.  But there ain't no rich folk here, I'm afraid you're gonna be mighty disappointed.”

“Ah, yes, well, no matter.” Khalid replied, indicating that they should head down to the waterfront.

Khalid's spirits sank when they reached the lakeside and he realized the proffered conveyance was little more than a row boat, with an ominously well used bucket resting in the bottom.  The owner was about to climb in when Gorak stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “We can manage from here,” he rumbled.  “Wouldn't want you wandering into anything that went boom.”

Despite his misgivings, the little boat proved seaworthy and with Gorak at the oars, it practically leaped through the water.  After a few minutes, the village began to recede into the distance.  Some time later, the far side of the lake became more than just a distant smudge on the horizon.  Soon, cliffs loomed large overhead, and Gorak changed their course slightly, angling for a rocky beach at their base.   Azarek jumped over the side as the boat entered shallow waters, dragging it on to the beach  while the others gathered their things.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Gorak scanned the rock face.  “Stay put,” he grunted.  “I'll go take a look around.”  Shifting form, he flew into the air, racing along the cliffs.  He returned mere minutes later, landing in front of them and changing back.  “Found it.  Ain't too far away.  Easy enough to get to.”

After a short walk down the rocky beach, they arrived at the cave.  With a frown, Khalid realized that he and Gorak had very different definitions of easy.  Still, with the help of a rope hauled up by Gorak, they made it up the twenty feet to the narrow crack in the stone.  Muttering a few words under her breath, Shayla used her magic to illuminate the area.  What looked from the outside to be nothing more than a small fissure in the rock opened up into a substantial cave.  Azarek started to step forward but was stopped by Gorak's hand on his arm.  “Might wanna let Khalid check it out first,” he growled.

Khalid uttered a few arcane words and dragged his fingers across his eyes.  Peering into the room, he looked for any trace of magical weaves or other unnatural energies, but found nothing.  “Ah, it would appear there there are no magical, yes, magical traps or wards securing the area,” he said.  Shayla, duplicating the spell, confirmed his assessment with a sigh.

Gorak grunted.  “Good.  But that don't mean there ain't no traps of a more straight forward sort lying around.  Best be careful.”

There was little to see within the tight confines of the cave.  Centuries of runoff filtering through the limestone had worn smooth the walls and ceiling.  The floor, not surprisingly, was crusted with bird droppings. Already unsettled from the long boat ride, it was all Khalid could do to keep the smell from overwhelming him.  Scattered about on the floor of the cave were the boys personal effects.  Tattered blankets and pilfered tools were strewn amid a jumble of bones, both fish and animal.  Gorak walked over and kicked through a pile of debris that may have been a sleeping pallet, but found nothing of interest.

Shayla moved toward the back of the shelter, sweeping the light in front of her as she moved.  At the rear of the refuge, she stopped, focusing the light at her feet.  Khalid looked up from the pile of garbage he was gingerly picking through and frowned.  “Ah, Shayla?  Did you find something?”

“There's a book here,” she said.

“A book?” Khalid asked, his previous unease quickly forgotten.  He stood up quickly and joined her.

“Some kind of diary I think,” she continued.

“Ah, of course,” Khalid added, trying to hide his disappointment.  When he reached her side however, it was clear that it was not the discovery of the small, tattered sheaf of bound parchment that held her attention.  On the floor in front of her lay two poorly preserved corpses.  Little more than bones remained, but unlike the rest of the cave, it was clear that these had been carefully arranged, facing each other with their hands intertwined.

“The boy's mother and father,” Shayla said, her tone flat.

“Ah, yes, so it would seem,” Khalid agreed, eyeing Shayla out of the corner of his eye.  “Ah, Gorak, I think there's little here of interest, perhaps, yes perhaps it is time to depart.”

“Ayup,” Gorak grunted, sweeping the ground with his foot one final time.  “Nothing here but garbage.  Let's go.”

Rowing into the wind, the return trip took twice as long.  Gorak and Azarek took turns at the oars, holding a steady pace through the swelling waves.  It was near dark when they reached the dock, cold, wet and tired.  Khalid was grateful for the helpful villagers who directed them to a small house set aside for their use.  Within minutes, they were settling into their accommodations while Gorak stoked a fire to ward away the damp chill of the lake.  Not wishing to impose upon the hard pressed townsfolk, Khalid pulled some dried rations from the magical haversack and passed them around.  Absently chewing on a strip of dried jerky, he sat down.  Wearied by the day's events, his eyes were half closed when a knock on the door disturbed him.  Seeing a decided lack of motion from his friends, Khalid stood up and walked over to the door, grumbling under his breath.  Opening it, he found the tall blond man that had spoken for the village earlier, standing outside.

“Sorry ta bother you, but I've gathered up the things you wanted.”  He handed Khalid a small leather pouch.  “Everyone gave what they had.  Ain't much, like I said, but around here, if you can't eat it or wear it, well, it just ain't much use.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid muttered, feeling somewhat guilty.  “If you please, wait here just a moment.   He stepped back into the room, and upended the pouch on the table.

“Is there anything else you folks need?  I wish we could throw you a proper feast, but the only grain we got left has got to go in the ground.”

“Yes, well, of course we understand the last few months have been trying on you, and no thanks are required.  Yes, quite.”  Khalid replied, sifting through the small pile of gold and silver jewelry.

“The boats will be on the lake tomorrow, at first light.  If you stay a few days, I bet we could do something up half decent.”

“Ah, yes, well, I'm afraid we will be resuming our journey in the morning, so I regret that won't be possible.”  He extracted a ring from beneath a tangled spool of gold chain.  “Aha!” Khalid exclaimed.  Holding it up the light, he examined the stone.  An iridescent sheen glittered over the jet black pearl.  “Ah, I had not dared to hope I would find what I sought.”  Turning to the elder, he asked, “Do you know who this belongs to?”

“Marie, I think.”

“Ah, yes, excellent.”  He pulled out a dagger from its sheath on his belt, using the tip to gently pry loose the stone.  “This is all I require, yes, quite.  You may return the rest to their owners and give this to Marie.”  He pulled a glittering red ruby, easily twice the value of the stone he had taken, from the hoard Arbaq had provided them, and handed it to the villager.  

The villager looked at him strangely as he tucked the pouch into his shirt.  “I'll see that she gets it.  If there ain't nothing else, I'll just get out of your way.”

 Bidding him goodnight, Khalid retired to his bedroll.  Tired as he was, his unsettled thoughts chased away all hope of sleep.  Turning over, his gaze fell upon Shayla, sitting cross legged with her back against the wall of the small hut.  Through the faint light cast by the dieing coals, he could tell she was awake.  In her hands, she held a small book.  Feeling his eyes upon her, she glanced up, her dark eyes shining.  Unsure of what to say, Khalid finally rolled over, and tried to get some sleep.

They left the small village early in the morning, with little fanfare.  More than a few of the locals were awake, busy resuming their daily routines so long interrupted.  All waved and offered them a greeting but they didn't stop to exchange pleasantries.  Riding out in the plains on summoned horses, within a few hours, the lake and the tiny village were long behind them.

Stopping briefly for lunch, Gorak pulled out their worn map and studied it carefully.  “We've got a choice to make.  If we keep heading north west, we're gonna hit this big forest here, right in the middle, and while that don't bother me none to much, I'm guessing it's gonna make riding next to impossible.”

“Ah, yes, well, I can't say I'm much in favour of crossing the country on foot.”

“Din't think you'd be.  So we got two options then.  Turn north and circle around the forest that way.  That's gonna take some time and it'll put us pretty far north.  Further then we want to be, I think.  We're gonna be skirting the tundra up there and that might not be too much fun.”

“Whut's the other choice?” Azarek rasped.

“Due west, right now.”  He traced out a line on the map with his finger.  “Wit a little luck, we just miss the south part of the forest, and hit this road here, the one leading north outta Caer Morag.  It'll get us through the forest quick, and we can turn north west again here, and run straight out to the mountains.  I bet we'll be able to see the peaks once we clear the bush.”

“We'll probably run into Dwerro on the road,” Shayla added, not sounding particularly displeased by the prospect.

“Maybe,” Gorak agreed.  “But we're a few hundred miles north of Caer Morag and there ain't a lot out here, except this town here in the forest.  That's a lot of ground to cover, for them short little bastards, and I can't think they'll be up here in force.”

Changing course, they turned west and headed into the setting sun.  That night and the following day proved uneventful.  They were truly beyond the reach of civilization now, with nothing but windswept plains stretching around them in all directions.  Travelling in their usual fashion, they pushed Khalid's summoned mounts mercilessly to the limits of their endurance, while Gorak circled high overhead, scanning the horizon for threats.  Finally, Khalid called a halt amid the quickly fading rays of setting sun.  Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, he slid off his mount gingerly and moved to prepare their shelter, when Gorak landed in front of them.  His customary scowl was a shade deeper then usual, a fact that Khalid had, over time, learnt to recognize.  “Ah, what is it?” he asked wearily.

Scratching absently at his jaw, Gorak grunted.  “Maybe nothing.  I spotted a line of torches, headed this way.  I'm guessing a few dozen men, maybe more.”

“Ah, Dwerro?” Khalid asked, a worried furrow forming on his brow.

“Don't think Dwerro need torches,” Gorak grumbled with a smirk.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid muttered.  “Who else would be this far north?”

“Dunno, but I aim to find out.  Don't lock the door.  And,” he continued quickly when he saw Khalid about to speak, “don't say it.”

_Be careful_

Gorak barked out a short laugh.  “Ain't I always?”  He dropped to all fours, his body blurring into the form a large grey wolf.  He turned, and bounded out into the darkness.

With a sigh, Khalid tossed the length of rope he kept wrapped around his waist on the ground, and opened their shelter with a gesture.  Climbing inside without waiting for Azarek or Shayla, he tossed his pack aside and sat down to wait for Gorak's return.

* * * * * * * * * *​Notes:
* Heh, I totally wasn't expecting this (neither was Galeman I don't think...).  It never even occured to me that it might be a polymorphed caster, probably because in another 3.0 campaign, my wizard had his troll suit unzipped while surrounded by monks, and I knew how dangerous it could be.


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## wolff96

Hey, an update!  Awesome.  

Did you ever find out more about why the sorcerer was attacking the village?  Revenge for murdered parents, I'm guessing?  Also, what was up with the swarms of birds?  Or do I need to just go back and re-read the last update?


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## EternalNewbie

wolff96 said:


> Hey, an update!  Awesome.
> 
> Did you ever find out more about why the sorcerer was attacking the village?  Revenge for murdered parents, I'm guessing?  Also, what was up with the swarms of birds?  Or do I need to just go back and re-read the last update?




Well without giving too much away, I think it was pretty much just for revenge.  I can say that if Galeman had a plot line associated with this little side quest, it ended when Khalid turfed the sorcerer.  None of us were overly thrilled about how this turned out, as I think it was pretty clear that there was a way to resolve it without killing anybody.

Still, if you're going to go around picking fights...you should probably make sure you're going to win.  Or at least not fail at running away...


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## TaranTheWanderer

EternalNewbie said:


> On the floor in front of her lay two poorly preserved corpses.  Little more than bones remained, but unlike the rest of the cave, it was clear that these had been carefully arranged, facing each other with their hands intertwined.
> 
> “The boy's mother and father,” Shayla said, her tone flat.
> 
> “Ah, yes, so it would seem,” Khalid agreed, eyeing Shayla out of the corner of his eye.  “Ah, Gorak, I think there's little here of interest, perhaps, yes perhaps it is time to depart.”
> 
> “Ayup,” Gorak grunted, sweeping the ground with his foot one final time.  “Nothing here but garbage.  Let's go.”




I think this really accents the tragedy.  Nicely written EN.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

TaranTheWanderer said:


> I think this really accents the tragedy.  Nicely written EN.




Yup. Good update EN. Here's hoping for more ...


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## EternalNewbie

Khalid jerked awake.  He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but after the events of the last two days he was physically and mentally exhausted.  Forcing the confusion from his mind, he glanced around for the sound of the noise that roused him when Gorak's head appeared through the entrance.  Gripping the edge of the portal, he hauled himself up and pulled in the rope.

Azarek, leaning back against the boundary of the dimension, pushed his helm up from over his eyes with his finger.  “So who wuz they?” he rasped.

“Nomads,” Gorak grunted. “From the far north, judging by their dress.”

“They gonna be a problem?” Azarek asked.

“Not fer us.  Looks like they're setting up for some sort of ritual.  There's maybe thirty of 'em.  They had guards posted, so I didn't risk getting close.  Whatever they're doing, they're serious about it.”  Azarek grunted and, not seeing the need for further discussion, pulled up his bedroll and promptly went to sleep.

They broke camp late after Gorak had thoroughly scouted the area.  Khalid was more than a little relieved when he returned to report that the nomads had moved on.  Out of idle curiosity, they ventured past the site of the abandoned camp, which wasn't hard to find.  A large patch of grass, about fifteen feet across had been burned away.  Embers were still glowing amid the piles of ash and charred wood.  The purpose of the fire became immediately apparent as Azarek sifted through the debris with the toe of his boot, uncovering a bit of charred bone.

“Funeral pyre,” he rasped.

“Wonder why they came this far south?” Gorak rumbled.

“Ah, yes, well, I doubt we'll ever know,” Khalid replied.  Out of habit, Shayla muttered a few words under her breath and dragged her fingers across her eyes.

“Whut ave we 'ere,” Azarek rasped, bending down and brushing aside some of the ash.  “Well now, whoever he wuz, I don't figure he's gonna get much use out of this no more.”

“Wait a minute,” Shayla cautioned, just as Azarek pulled free a long hand and a half sword from the remnants of the pyre.

“Gah!” Azarek cursed, flinging the blade aside.  “Bloody hell, that just ain't right.”  His normal pallor seemed a shade lighter.

“I tried to warn you,” Shayla said.  “That thing is magical.”

“I don't give a good gods damn what it is,” he growled.  “But I sure as shyte know why they burned it with him.”

Khalid took the opportunity to study the weapon, being careful not to touch it.  The blade was unremarkable, save that it seemed completely untouched by its recent immolation.  Well over three feet long, it bore no signs of use, and looked razor sharp.  The hilt however, was more then a little disturbing.  It appeared to be carved from a single piece of bone, whether human or animal. Khalid couldn't tell.  Etched into it were humanoid figures, bearing expressions of indescribable agony and suffering.

“It could be powerful,” Shayla continued.

“I don't care,” Azarek rasped.  “That thing don't like me and I don't like it.”  He paused to wipe his hand on his cloak.  “ I ain't touching it again.”

Although more than a little curious, Khalid couldn't help but agree.  “Ah, yes, it could be quite, yes, quite dangerous.  And if Azarek has no interest in it, the weapon itself would do the rest of us little good.”	

“I'm good with that,” Gorak grunted.  “We don't need another distraction.”

Somewhat uncharacteristically, Shayla let the matter drop without another word and they resumed travelling.  Several uneventful days passed, and the terrain gradually became a little less bleak as they headed southwest.  Khalid took advantage of the relative calm to complete his analysis of several unusual items they had acquired upon their travels.  Crushing the black pearl with the hilt of his knife, he began to chant, sprinkling the dust in the air.  The powder began to sparkle and glow, drawn toward the magic emanating from the items in front of him.  Slowly, the magical weaves were revealed in a detail that far surpassed that of a simple detection spell.  He studied them closely, his mind working to unravel the mystery of their function.  After several long hours, he leaned back against the boundary of the pocket dimension with a satisfied sigh.

Looking up to find the others staring at him curiously, he gestured at the equipment in front of him and began to explain.  “Ah, yes, having recently acquired the final component of one of my more useful, yes, useful divinations, I have unlocked the secrets of several things we have taken from our vanquished foes.”  He pointed at the dagger they had acquired from the gnoll assassin sent after them by Malakai, who had met his end in the snowy reaches of the mountain pass.  “The dagger, although it appears to be metal, is something else entirely.  Hilt and blade are a single, yes, single piece which I  suspect  was carved from the fang of some giant creature, perhaps a serpent or spider.  The magic has made it harder, yes, harder than steel.”

“Not too shabby,” Azarek rasped.

“Ah, yes, indeed,” Khalid said.  “But that is not all.  The magic also has also preserves and rejuvenates a venom gland contained within the hilt.  When the command word is spoken, the blade will inject a deadly toxin into your opponent.”

“The Dwerro war hammer,” he continued.  “Is a particularly powerful item.  Ah, although I have little knowledge of these things, I judge it to be of unparallelled craftsmanship.”  He glanced at Azarek, who nodded.  “The magic bears the burden of its weight for the wielder, making it feel extraordinarily light, while still delivering punishing blows.  Ah, although I do not have a scale, I suspect it is at least twice as heavy as an ordinary hammer, but feels like it weighs half as much.  And if that were not sufficient, when a command word is spoken, the hammer becomes infused with magic, delivering a concussion blast upon contact, sufficient to render most creatures senseless.”

“Nice,” Gorak grunted.  “Yer damn lucky that little basterd din't clip you with it back at Caer Morag.”

“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.

“What about the stuff we took off that boy?” Shayla asked quietly.

“Ah, most unusual items, both of them.” Khalid replied.  “Although I have no idea where he would have acquired them out here, I find it hard to believe he possessed the ability to craft them.”  He lifted up the staff, balancing it easily in the palm of his hand.  “The staff is the means by which the boy controlled the birds.  A murder of ravens has been bound to it, allowing the wielder to summon them at will.  In addition, it grants the bearer minor prescience in combat, flashes of insight which aid in parrying blows.”

“And of course,” he continued.  “I have saved the best for last, yes quite.  The cloak has only a single function.  Once every twenty-four hours, for as long as an hour, it will transform its wearer into a raven and back again.”

“Useful,” Gorak grunted.  “Now who gets what?”

“The hammer is of little use to any of us save Azarek,” Khalid replied, and seeing no objection from Shayla or Gorak, passed it over to him.

“I'll take that staff,” Gorak rumbled.  “It ain't no cudgel, but it'll free up my hands for casting.  Khalid passed it over to him.

“Ah, as both Gorak and I possess the means to fly, the Shayla should take the cloak.  It's power will provide a potent means of defense and escape, yes quite.”  He passed it over to her, and she pulled it around her shoulders, fastening the golden clasp at the neck.  The jet black feathers seemed to make her pale complexion almost luminous in the dim light.

“The dagger is yours then,” Gorak grunted to Khalid.

Khalid shrugged.  “Ah, since I place the odds of poisoning any foe I attempt to use it on roughly equal to the odds of poisoning myself with it, I think Azarek should take that as well.  He slid the blade into its sheath and passed it over to him, hilt first.

Their ill gotten gains divided, they turned in for the night.  Some hours later, a sound that haunted Khalid's nightmares shocked him awake.  Half asleep, he fumbled around frantically, until his fingers closed on the worn leather cover of his spellbook, still tucked within the rucksack beneath his head.  Gorak lay still beside him, and without having to look, Azarek's rumbling snore indicated he was still asleep.  Rolling over he looked around for the source of the rustling paper that had disturbed his slumber.  Sitting some distance away from them was Shayla, knees drawn up to her chest, holding a book in her hands.  Fairly certain that it wasn't one of his, he squinted in the dim light, trying to make out what she was reading.  Then it dawned on him.  Shayla had kept the boy sorcerer's diary, although to what end, he wasn't sure.  Sensing his scrutiny, Shayla glanced up and met his gaze, holding it for an instant before returning to her reading.  Bothered without really knowing why, Khalid closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep but it was a long time in coming.  When Gorak roused him with the toe of his boot, he felt as though he'd barely slept at all.

The following days passed in a blur of travel.  They rode hard from dawn until dusk, climbing into Khalid's shelter long enough to sleep before setting out again.  A smudge of green to the west gradually swelled until it filled the horizon, growing in size until individual trees were evident.  Gorak's assessment proved unpleasantly true; unlike the pruned glades to the south, this was a proper forest, filled with ancient gnarled trees packed close together and thick, unyielding undergrowth that hampered their travel.  Less then an hour after they passed the first stunted tree, they were forced south by the dense brush, to seek out the road running north from Caer Morag.  That night, they set up their camp, as it were, on a small rise overlooking the road.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and even though it was only early morning, Khalid could tell it was going to be unpleasantly warm.   Mounting up, they rode down into the shallow valley, picking the road and heading north. Soon the sun was visible only as shafts of light filtering down through the branches above and they were enveloped in the cool gloom of the forest.  All around them were the sounds of the forest.  The inhabitants of the woods were seemingly unconcerned with their presence, but still Khalid couldn't help but feel something sinister lurked behind every bole and branch, watching and waiting.

Gorak, choosing a more suitable form, dropped to all fours and loped off into the trees, disappearing from sight.  Although some attempt had been made to clear back the trees from the road in the not too distant past, the forest it seemed, was winning the battle, closing in around the road.  Khalid sighed and huddled deeper into his robes.

“What is it?” Shayla asked.

“Ah, I do not care for this place,” Khalid muttered.  “I prefer my trees pressed, bound and covered with ink.  Yes, quite.”

“Well, I can't imagine the Dwerro like it any better than you do.  I don't see them having too many skilled woodsman among their ranks, so I bet we don't have to worry about them in here.”

“Ah, yes, small comfort I should think.”

Despite Khalid's unease, they were not disturbed by any denizens of the forest during their first day on the road.  Consulting the map over dinner, they estimated it would take at least three more days travel to reach village marked upon the map at the centre of the woods, and possibly two more days to put the forest behind them after that.

It was late on the second day on the road, when Gorak bounded from the trees and shifted from his lupine form.

“That can't be good,” Shayla muttered.

“Never is,” Azarek rasped.

“Better get  yer game face on,” Gorak growled.  “I spotted a coupla bodies on the road up ahead, near what I'm guessing is a bunkhouse for folks travelling through the woods.”

“Recent?” Shayla asked.

“I din't get close enough to tell,” Gorak replied.

Belting on his shield, Azarek unstrapped the Dwerro war hammer from his saddle and laid it across his knees.  Nudging his horse forward, he took up the lead with Khalid and Shayla trailing behind.  Gorak, drifting into the trees, paced them while staying out of sight.

Even though the brush had been cleared away from the road, the thick trees limited visibility to a few dozen feet ahead.  Khalid fiddled nervously with the spell components at his waist, anticipating any manner of foe lurking in the cool shadows of the forest.  He strained his ears for any sound of an ambush, but the sounds of the woods betrayed nothing unusual.  After a few tense minutes, they rode into a large clearing around wooden building.

The trees here had been cut back fifty feet in all directions around the single room structure.  Old stumps poked up through the long grass, and like the rest of the road, it seemed as though no one had been maintaining it recently.  The log building seemed well constructed, with a stout door and shuttered windows, although the roof over one corner sagged ominously.

It was immediately apparent that some sort of struggle had taken place here.  The grass around the side of the building was blackened, radiating out from a point near the corner closest to them.  Four bodies lay on the ground in the centre of the circle.  Inspecting them from a distance revealed little to Khalid, so badly damaged were the corpses.  They were obviously humanoid, five or six feet tall, but that was all he could discern from the edge of the clearing.

Scanning the trees warily, Azarek hefted the war hammer and urged his mount forward with his knees.  Khalid and Shayla edged apart a little, watching him from the tree line.  Azarek continued down the road until he was in the centre of the glade and then stopped, waiting.  After a few moments, Gorak stepped out of the trees across from them  “Looks clear,” he growled.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Khalid rode up to join Azarek, who hung his shield on his saddlehorn and dismounted.  Muttering a few arcane words, Khalid checked the area for arcane weaves, but found nothing out of the ordinary.  He clambered off his horse and moved closer to the bodies.

Gorak walked over beside Azarek.  “Pretty good ambush,” he rumbled.

“Ayuh,” Azarek grunted.

“Ah, how can you tell?” Khalid asked.

“Weapons are still sheathed,” Gorak growled.   “It was over before they knew what hit 'em.”

“Fire?” Khalid asked, surveying the scene.

“I don't think so,” Shayla replied, kneeling down and pulling up a handful of sod.  “This grass isn't burned, it's...” she paused, a frown creasing her features, “dried up is the best I can figure.”

Gorak grunted in agreement from where he was inspecting the fallen.  “The bodies ain't burned neither.  They're mummified.  Like they been out in the desert for a month.  The metal is fine, but their clothes are the same.”

“You think that's off,” Azarek rasped.  “Lookit this.”  He reached over and grabbed the corner of the sagging cabin.  Without even trying, he tore free a fist sized chunk of wood from one of the beams.  Closing his fist, it crumbled into dust at his touch.

With a growl, Gorak voiced the question that they were all thinking. “So whut in the nine hells happened here?”


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Good to see an update .


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## wolff96

Indeed.  And if they're running into foes with access to _Horrid Wilting_, this may be about to take a turn for the horrific.  Yikes.


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## EternalNewbie

wolff96 said:


> Indeed.  And if they're running into foes with access to _Horrid Wilting_, this may be about to take a turn for the horrific.  Yikes.




I remember thinking something along the same lines...

* * * * * * * * * *​“Ah, whatever magic did this, is beyond, yes, beyond my measure.” Khalid said.  “Nothing in my schooling has hinted at a spell such as this.”  He glanced at Gorak.

“Pretty clear what it did,” Gorak grunted.  “Sucked the water right out of the air.  I can make the stuff, but none of the wisemen I ever met could pull this off.”  Reaching down, he fished a small silver necklace out from under the armor of one of the bodies and, with a jerk, snapped the chain.  Holding it up to the light, he studied it carefully, absently rubbing his chin.

“Ah, what's that.”  Khalid asked.

“Not sure exactly,” Gorak grunted.  “Seems familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it.  They've each got one.” He gestured at the other bodies in the clearing.

Azarek peered through the shuttered window of the cabin, before gingerly prying open the door.    “There's more of 'em in here, same as the others.”  Khalid joined him, peering over his shoulder into the gloom of the cabin.  A peculiar dusty smell, like aged parchment, wafted out from the tiny room.  Shafts of sunlight filtered through the roof where the wooden slats had splintered and buckled.  Near the damaged corner of the room were three more bodies, one slumped over the broken wreckage of a table, the other two lying on the floor, on bedrolls.

“Let me see,” Gorak rumbled, jostling Khalid aside and walking into the room.  The planks under his feet crumbled as he moved and the building creaked ominously.  He knelt down beside the bodies and looked them over.

“So whadda ya think?” Azarek rasped.  “Seems a wee bit too much carnage for a robbery.”

“I'd say somebody was trying to make a point,” Gorak rumbled.

“How so?” Shayla asked.

“If I had ta wager,” Gorak replied, “I'd guess that these two groups had nothing to do with each other.”

“Ah, what led you to that conclusion?”

“The four outside were all wearing these,” he held up the chain.  “These three ain't.  What's more, those four outside are woodsmen.  They're wearing camouflaged leathers and carrying hunting knives and short bows.  These two here, look like mercs to me.  Chain shirts, broadswords and shields.  Probably escorting that one,” he pointed at the body near the table, “out of the war zone.”  He leaned back on his haunches.  “And this obviously wasn't about the loot.  They've still got their weapons and kit, what's left of it.”  He stood up and walked out of the cabin.  “Nope, this weren't no hold up.  Whoever did this didn't want no witnesses and brought out the heavy artillery to get 'er done.”

“Ah, yes, well, then perhaps we should be on our way then,” Khalid said, glancing over his shoulder nervously.

“Not yet.  I'm gonna go hunt around a bit, see if there's anything else we might help us avoid getting jumped by whoever did this.”  Gorak began to walk toward the edge of the clearing.  “Stay put and don't mess up anymore tracks then you already have.”

Rounding up the mounts, Khalid waited anxiously for Gorak.  Half an hour later he appeared from the brush behind the hut.

“Ah, find anything?” Khalid asked.

“Not really,” Gorak admitted.  “I'd say this whole thing went down a day or two ago.  The woodsmen met up here, they all came in from different directions.  The three inside the hut came up the road.  Whoever did this came outta the bush to the west.”

“Ah, are you sure?”

Gorak gave Khalid a withering stare.  “I know the difference between moccasins and iron shod boots.”

“So where'd they go?” Azarek asked.

“Dunno.” Gorak grunted, clearly annoyed.  “They did a pretty good job covering up.  I'm guessing they stuck to the road a while where they won't leave any tracks, then turned into the woods.  They're skilled enough that I'd having the scour every inch of the tree line or risk riding right past.  That is if they didn't head south and I already missed it.”

“Then we're done here,” Shayla remarked, grabbing her saddle horn and throwing a leg over the back of her.  “And the sooner we're away from this place, the better.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.

The sense of dread Khalid had finally managed to shake returned with a heretofore unknown zeal.  He saw the shadow of an enemy behind every tree and the rustle of branches in the wind sent him reaching for his spell components.  Finally, when he though he could stand it no longer, the forest parted in front of them, stretching out into a broad meadow.  The road continued on, leading them past rows of tilled earth to the small hamlet that had been marked on their map.  In a distant field, a lone figure stood up to watch their passage.  As they rode past, Khalid offered the man a hesitant wave but he didn't return the greeting.  With a frown, Khalid nudged his mount onward.

Smoke from hearth fires curled lazily into the clear blue sky from the roofs of low wood houses.  Here and there, between the buildings, they could see villagers going about their business.  The road seemed to pass through the center of the town and since there were no walls or gates, they walked into the village unchallenged.  Ahead, a young child darted out of a side street, chasing after a wooden ball.  Surprised, the girl stopped running and stared at them.  A middle aged woman hurried out after her, clucking her tongue disapprovingly until she noticed the strangers.  Before they could even offer a greeting, the woman had scooped up the child and vanished into a building, closing the door behind her with a bang.

“Ah, well, yes, not the friendliest bunch, are they?” Khalid commented.  “What should we do?”

“Can't really blame 'em.  If there's an inn or a store in this place, you gotta figure it's on the main road,” Gorak replied with a shrug.  “Keep an eye out for a sign.”

They continued on for a while, passing a few old men sitting on worn wooden chairs under the shade of a porch.  As they approached, the men stopped talking and watched them pass in silence.  This time, Khalid didn't even offer a greeting.  After they passed, one of the men spat on the road behind them.

“I gots to say,” Azarek rasped, “travelling with you lot really takes the pressure off.”

“I don't think we're exactly winning them over.” Shayla muttered, a hard edge in her voice.  The attitudes of the villagers were clearing irritating her.  

“Yeah, well, fer a change it ain't me they're all bunched up over,” Azarek replied with a laugh.

“What do you mean?” Shayla asked.  “They done everything but throw rotten fruit on you.”

“He's right,” Gorak growled, glancing over his shoulder at the young men that had stepped out of a house behind them, and were trailing along, acting casual but looking anything but.  “It's me they got a problem with.”

“How do you know?” Shayla asked, scowling at the two men following them.

Before Gorak could answer, a door ahead flew open and two young boys tumbled out, tangled  up in a furious wrestling match.  Arms and legs flailing, they rolled on the ground, both struggling to gain an advantage until the larger boy flipped smaller one over and pinned him down, almost at Gorak's feet.  He raised his fist to give the helpless boy a good whallup when he looked up and saw Gorak staring down at him and froze.  The boy on the ground seized the momentary lull to push him over and jumped to his feet.  He was about to capitalize on his good fortune when he too realized they had an audience.

“Orc!” he shrieked and took off running up the street, followed only a step behind by the other boy.

“Bet we get us a proper welcome now,” Azarek rasped, pulling his shield off his back and resting his hand on the haft of his war hammer.

“Easy,” Gorak grumbled.  “Let's not give 'em any excuse.”

Minutes later, they were intercepted by three stern looking, heavily armed, men.  With a sinking feeling, Khalid realized that there was little chance of it being a pleasant conversation.  The men were all dressed in a similar fashion to the four bodies outside the hut in the forest.  Their leather armor was well worn but expertly maintained and all three had a bow on their back.  The one in front looked to be in his late fifties, judging from the lines on his face and grey in his hair, with a physique that would have been the envy of a man half his age.  The man on his right looked to be about the same age, with a full grey beard and heavy brow, while the woodsman on the left was a fair bit younger.

“What do you want?” the older man demanded.

“Ah, a chance to obtain fresh supplies and perhaps a warm bed,” Khalid replied.

“We don't have anything to spare,” the man said.  Looking past Khalid, at Gorak, he added.  “You're not welcome here.”

“Ah, yes, of course, well then we will be on our way,” Khalid said.  “But have spent many weeks travelling through the Southlands.  We have news that may be of interest to you.”

The older man looked as though he was going to refuse, when the younger man put his hand on his arm and spoke.  “We haven't had any word from the south in almost a month.  We should at least hear what they have to say.”

Glaring at each one of them in turn, the old woodsman finally relented.  “Fine.  But they're your responsibility, Geoff.   And I want them gone tomorrow, before the sun peaks.”  With a jerk of his head, he indicated the other man should follow him as he left, leaving them standing in the middle of the street with Geoff.  

Suddenly aware that about a dozen villagers were now staring at them, from windows and doorways, Khalid broke the uncomfortable silence.  “Ah, yes, well, while we have nothing to hide, the tidings we bear are grim, and are perhaps best discussed in private.”

“Of course.  There's nothing you'd call an a proper inn here in town, at least not anymore, but I can find a place for you.  I'm afraid you're going to have to endure my company for the evening.  The situation here is...tense, these days, as I'm sure you can appreciate.”  Khalid, speaking Eastern, made the introductions as they walked.  “You'll have to forgive Erik,” Geoff said as he directed them into a one room cabin just a little past the centre of town.  “Responsibility weighs heavy on him.  It's been a difficult time.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Gorak grunted when Khalid translated.  Pulling Sousee out of her basket, he laid her down on the floor.

“Tell me.”  Geoff replied in passable Western.

“Caer Morag has fallen.  'Bout three weeks ago.  The Hub was still holding, when we rode through, but they hadn't faced anything 'cept the forward skirmishers.  The land bridge to the eastern kingdom is blocked, with Dwerro dug into the hills on the coast.  That's about the farthest north we seen 'em so far.  There's a village east a few days that hasn't seen any sign of Dwerro.  And the way stop south on the road was hit, but can't say exactly whut done it.”

Geoff's expression, already grim, hardened even more.  “What do you mean hit?”

Khalid replied before Gorak had a chance, trying to come up with a way to soften what he knew would be difficult news, and mostly failing.  “Ah, yes, well, when we passed by, there were several bodies outside, and a few more inside.  The four outside, ah, well, yes, I suspect they were from your village.  They were dressed like woodsmen.  Those inside appeared to be fleeing, yes, fleeing the war.  Whatever did it was powerful, yes, powerful, and fast.  I don't believe they had the opportunity to fight back before the magic overwhelmed them.”

“What kind of magic?”

“Ah, nothing any of us has encountered before.  It was as though all of the water was pulled from the air.  All of the plants in the area were dead, and the building heavily damaged.”

“I need to talk to Erik, right now.  Don't go wandering about until I get back.”

“That an order?” Gorak grunted.

“Call it a suggestion made in everybody's best interests.  The last thing we need right now is an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Fine,” Gorak grunted.  “But don't take all day.”

They didn't bother to unpack their gear after Geoff left, sensing that their stay in the village was likely to be short.  Although not overly concerned for their safety, Khalid was discouraged by their reception in the village.  The months of constant trekking through dangerous territory was beginning to weight heavily on him, made worse by the knowledge that many more weeks of arduous travel lay ahead.  They passed the time quietly lost in their own musings, until Geoff returned bearing the same troubled expression.

“So,” Gorak grunted.  “You wanna tell us whut's going on 'round here?”

Pulling back an empty chair from the table, Geoff sat down heavily, rubbing his brow with a thick, calloused hand.  “Much of what you've told us, we had already deduced for ourselves.   The Dwerro advance was rapid and precise.  Word of the fall of Drak'nor had barely reached us before the South road was cut off.  Some refugees made it through, but not many.  From them, we learnt of the siege of Caer Morag.  To those that made it, we offered what aid we could but ours is not a large village.  The forest provides for us, but it is not without its perils and we are not its only residents.  Several tribes of Orcs call the woods home.  For the most part, they have kept to themselves, past encounters having shown them the folly of harassing us.”

He sighed and took a pull from his water skin before continuing.  “After the patrols from the South stopped, they became more bold.  We did what we could to discourage them, but they began to push further into our hunting grounds, even going so far as to attack refugees upon the road.”

“Well,” Gorak rumbled.  “We ain't got nothing to do with that.”

“Trust me, I know the difference between the forest and desert tribes,” Geoff replied.  “But others are not so forgiving, especially in light of recent events.  From what our scouts have been able to determine, a new leader moves among the Orcs, rallying them to his cause.  Enmity between the forest clans has always given us an advantage but this new warlord...” he trailed off.  Shaking his head, as though to deny the unpleasant reality, he continued.  “Not only has he welded the forest orcs together under his rule, now tribes from the plains are filtering in.  One of my men even caught sight of the markings of one of the hill tribes.  Those lot haven't united under a single ruler in a hundred years.”  He paused, shifting his gaze to stare out the open window.  “Folks around here are cut from tough stock but without Caer Morag to support us, we're going to be hard pressed.”  Geoff pushed his chair out and stood up.  “I wish we could offer you more, but there's little enough to spare these days.  Now, if you'll forgive me, I need to organize a search party.”

“For who?” Shayla asked.

“We sent out seven trackers to keep tabs on the orcs last week.  Two return and you found four of them dead at the way stop.  There's still one unaccounted for, and he's overdue.”

Gorak, an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face, spoke.  “It might be that I can help you out wit that, witout you having to risk any more of your men.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but what do you want in return.”

“Look, take it or leave it pal, makes no difference to me.  I just thought maybe you're a little short on friends these days and could use a hand.”

“You've got that right,” Geoff said, having the good graces to look chagrined. “These days, it seems like the whole world is out to get us.  If you want to help, they're gonna strike out tomorrow.”

“Works for me.   Meet me tomorrow morning, just before daybreak.  Bring me something that belonged to that fella, and point me in the direction of some fresh water.  Pool'd be best.”

Geoff nodded and stood up. “Tomorrow then.  I'm going to have to ask you to stay here for the night.  Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm going to have to post somebody outside the door.”

“You're putting us under guard?” Shayla asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

“It's as much for your safety as it is ours.  If you need anything, just ask him, his name is Hekter.”

After he left, Khalid turned to Gorak.  “Ah, what did you have in mind?”

“I told you before, everything is connected.  If this lads boots touch earth, or even if'n he's buried under it, I kin find him.  Won't take too long, and we can be on our way.”

They passed a quiet evening under the watchful eye of one of the rangers.  He responded to their few requests politely, if somewhat impassively.  They weren't provided any food, which wasn't unexpected given the circumstances, but they were given clean water and bedding for the four simple wooden cots in the room.  Khalid, more then a little curious about what Gorak had planned, forced himself out of bed early.  Gorak had just finished his morning commune when Geoff knocked on the door.

“So if you still want to help, now's the time.  The scouting party is going to set out in the next hour or so.”

“We're ready,” Gorak rumbled.  “You got something that belonged to this fella?”  When Geoff nodded, Gorak continued.  “Good, then lead me to some fresh water and we'll see if we can't spare your boys a stroll.”

Geoff led them through the early morning gloom, across the fields and into the woods.  Pockets of mist, sheltered from the weak sunlight beneath the trees, swirled and eddied around them.  After about an hour, they were able to pick out the sound of a gurgling stream ahead.  As they approached the banks, Geoff stopped and looked in both directions.  Nodding to himself, he pointed.  “There's a bend in the creek, up this way a bit.”  Following him a few hundred yards further, they reached a small pool, where the bend in the stream created a swirling back flow.

“Ayup.” Gorak grunted.  “This'll do.”  He settled to his knees.  “Alright.  Give me something of his.  Wouldn't hurt if you described him to me.”

Reaching into his pack, Geoff pulled out a wadded ball of cloth.  “Hope this will work,” he said, handing Gorak a set of smallclothes.

“Well, it don't get much more personal than that.” Azarek laughed.

“He's out on a walk.  His place was pretty empty.” Geoff explained, with a hint of a frown, as though the sound of his own voice rattled a bit.  Turning to Gorak, he said.  “He's about my height, brown hair, brown eyes, hair past his shoulders.  Scar on his right cheek.  He'll be dressed like me, sporting two short blades and a long bow, green fletching on the arrows.”  He added a few more details, while Gorak finished his preparations.

“Alright,” Gorak said finally.  “Gather round, cuz if this works, it ain't gonna last long.”  He began to chant in his deep voice, his right hand clenched into a fist and holding the clothing in his left.  At the culmination of this spell, he brought his hand down and broke the surface of the water.  As he pulled his hand out, the water behind began to freeze, spreading out into disc about four feet wide.  Slowly, images began to coalesce on the frozen surface.  A youngish looking man, dressed as Geoff had described appeared in the center, leaned back against the base of a tree at the foot of a small hill.

“He's alive,” Geoff said, breathing a long sigh of relief.

“Ah, he's not alone.” Khalid said, catching a flicker of movement at near the edge of the ice.  “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Surely he can hear him.” Shayla muttered under her breath, as the Orc crept through the brush, sword in hand.  The woodsman, oblivious to the danger, remained seated with his weapons sheathed.   Khalid held his breath, awaiting the inevitable bloodshed.

The ranger suddenly realized he wasn't alone.  He stood up and spun around, hands on the hilt of his swords.  The Orc raised his blade, a wicked snarl on his lips.  They stood there for an instant, then the ranger through back his head and laughed, offering out his hand to the Orc.  The Orc, mirroring his grin clasped him by the forearm.

“Ilsadora save us,” Geoff exclaimed.  “He's doomed us all.”


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Excellent stuff as ever, EN.


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## The Axe

Dig it.


----------



## RedTonic

I'll just leave this bump right... here.


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## TaranTheWanderer

I have seen, with mine own eyes, the first draft of the next post...it's coming!


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## TaranTheWanderer

No, really...it is coming!  Bump


----------



## EternalNewbie

“We have to go after him,” Geoff pleaded, turning to Khalid.

“Pay attention,” Gorak growled.  “I can't keep this up forever.”  The ice at the edges of the disc began thin and splinter, drifting away downstream.

“I know that place.” Geoff said.  “Looks like they're on the south side of the hill.”  He continued to study the scene carefully, committing it to memory.  A few seconds later, the image cracked in two, and the pieces floated away, melting into the water.

Gorak tossed the clothing aside and stood up.  He lifted up his gaze from the pool, and stared at Geoff, the scowl on his face darkening.  “You've got maybe five hunnert people in that village, maybe two  hunnert able bodied defenders at most.  Whut could he really tell 'em other than that?”  Before Geoff had a chance to respond, Gorak continued.  “Whut's really going on here?”

“He's a traitor to his kith and kin.  He needs to be dealt with,” Geoff retorted, flushing slightly in indignation, but not, Khalid noted, answering the question posed by Gorak.  “It's going to take almost an hour to get back to the village, then another hour just to get right back here.  The hill is this way,” he pointed almost directly away from the village, “another four hours or so.  I need your help, if I'm going to have a chance.”

“That's a pretty serious request.” Gorak grunted.

“From what I've seen, you four are pretty serious people.  I wouldn't ask unless I thought you could handle it.”

“Ah, give us a minute.” Khalid asked.  Geoff nodded and walked away.

“You wanna do it, don't you?” Shayla asked Gorak, a hint of accusation in her tone.  

“Ah, they are in a difficult situation,” Khalid replied, trying to gauge Gorak's intentions.

“I gotta say,” Gorak grumbled.  “I am feeling a bit sympathetic to their cause.”

“Any excuse to spend time marching through the bush.” Shayla muttered. 

“That might be part of it,” Gorak agreed.  “And I don't got much use fer traitors.  I'd like to meet the man that would throw his family, everybody he knows, to the wolves.  Khalid, whadda ya think?”

“Ah, yes, well, most of the arguments I made the last time we were in this situation are still relevant.  There are too few safe places remaining in the east and these people need our help.”  That wasn't all, and Khalid was honest enough with himself to admit it.  Their failure at Caer Morag still gnawed at him, enough to spur him into action he wouldn't have otherwise considered.

Azarek remained silent, but the look of disgust on his face made it clear what his choice was.

“At this pace, we're never going to get home,” Shayla complained.

“We ain't in that big a hurry,” Gorak rumbled.  “And besides, I get the feeling there's something else going on here.”
“Ah, I sensed it as well,” Khalid offered.  “What do you suspect?”

“I ain't quite got it figured yet,” Gorak grumbled.  “But whatever it is, these are good people in a hard spot.  Can't say I'd think much of myself of we just left 'em twisting.”

“Do I get my say in any of this?” Azarek rasped.

“Not really.” Gorak replied.  Ignoring the black look he received in return, Gorak turned to Shayla.  “It's on you darling, what do you say?”

“Fine.” Shayla said, throwing up her hands in air, in exasperation.  “I'm not happy about it, but then again I'm not gonna feel any better staring at Khalid's hound dog expression all the way to Gem-Sharad.  If we're going to do this thing, let's get it done.”

“Alright,” Gorak said, in a louder tone so Geoff could hear.  “We're with you.  Lead the way and let us know when we're getting close.”

They made surprisingly good time through the heavy brush, guided by Geoff's intimate knowledge of the forest.  Picking up well hidden game trails and low running creeks, they moved almost unhindered through the trees.  Although he couldn't see the sun, Khalid judged it about midday when Geoff called a halt.  “You wanted to know when we're close?  Well, the hill is about a half mile southeast of us.”

“Good enough,” Gorak grunted.  “Stay put.”  He raised his arms and shifted form, flying up above the trees.  Geoff watched him fly away, a pensive expression on his face.

A few minutes later, Gorak landed in front of them and reverted back to his natural form.  The wicked grin on his face told Khalid everything he needed to know.  “They're still there,” Gorak growled.  “Camped up on top of that hill, and they didn't spot me.  The party got a little bit bigger, but it ain't nothing we can't handle.”

“What are we facing?” Shayla asked.

“Four ogres and that Orc, plus your man there.  Shouldn't be a problem to nip in, bury the goons and truss up your friend.”

Geoff looked grateful, if a bit hesitant.  “Are you certain?  I have no choice but to ask for your help, but the stakes have increased significantly.”

“Oh I wouldn't worry about that,” Shayla replied, with only a hint of sarcasm.  “I'm betting Gorak's already worked out the plan.”

With a wink at her, Gorak settled down onto his haunches and sketched out the terrain in the dirt with a short stick.  After a few minutes of discussion, they had a rudimentary plan worked out and everybody knew their roles.  Khalid took the opportunity to fortify his defences, before granting himself and Shayla the ability to fly while Gorak rumbled out the words to one of his favourite spells, causing the wispy clouds overhead to gather and rumble ominously. Thus prepared, they followed into step behind Geoff and headed toward the hill.

From Gorak's vision they knew the hill, while not that tall, was fairly large, a little less than fifty feet from the bottom to the top at a difficult but not impassable incline.  Both the top and the area around the base were covered by only sparse vegetation, undoubtedly the reason it had been chosen for the meeting, since it eliminated any chance of surprising their foes.   Khalid had finished running through his memorized incantations for only the fifth time, when Geoff held up his hand to stop and put his finger to his lips.  Khalid could see gaps in the trees ahead and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

Gorak looked at each of them in turn, and when they all signalled their assent, he sprinted the last ten feet into the clearing.   Holding his hands out at his sides, he began to chant in a huge voice, slowly raise his open palms to the sky.  Following a step behind, Khalid could only grin at that shouts of confusion.  In front of them, in a huge area, the scrawny grass and shrubs dotting the ground, trebled in size, becoming lush and green.   His words still hanging in the air, Gorak lunged forward, vanishing into the thick foliage at a dead run.  

The ogres weren't so fortunate.  Shouts of confusion rose up as Khalid willed himself into the air.   Struggling against the impeding plants, they moved forward slowly, their muscled bodies snagging on the tough briers that surrounded them.  Seizing upon the opportunity, Khalid tore open a rift, drenching two of them in noxious rust coloured fog.  Grinning to himself as the sounds of violent retches replaced bellows of anger, he glided forward while looking back over his shoulder.

One of the ogres fought clear of the brush onto a patch of bare stone that bisected the hill.  Picking up speed, he charged forward, a wicked axe held high overhead.  Shayla, rising out of the trees, fixed him with an intense stare and mumbled out words of power.  Twin jets of flame erupted from her fingers, scorching terrible wounds across the ogre's torso.  The burst of fire was trailed only slightly by a green fletched arrow, shot from Geoff's bow.  A second, in the air before the first buried itself in the ogres chest mere inches away.  Azarek, war hammer in hand, moved to intercept the beast before he could reach Geoff.  The ogre, grievously wounded and now more falling down the hill than running, swung awkwardly at Azarek.  Twisting to meet the blow, Azarek skillfully turned it aside rather than try to absorb the force of the blow, sending a shower of sparks cascading to the ground.  Caught off guard by the lack of resistance and carried forward by his momentum, the ogre stumbled past.  Pivoting on his lead foot, Azarek swept around behind him, his hand almost at the end of the shaft of his hammer.  Swinging in a huge arc, the hammer struck the ogre at the base of his skull with a sickening crack.  Collapsing, the ogre slid along the ground a half dozen feet before coming to rest, twitching on the ground.

Gorak raced unhindered through the thick undergrowth, calling out the words to a spell in his huge voice.  Gesturing over his shoulder, where the sole ogre left unscathed, the Orc and the ranger were trying to flee, the grass and shrubs, already grown thick and lush, became animate, writhing and grasping at everything within the span of his magic.  Ensnared, the three struggled in vain against the crippling effects.

Shayla, turning her attention to one of the retching ogres unleashed another blast of flame, causing him, to howl in agony amid gut wrenching gasps.  Seeing no immediate threats, Khalid conserved his energy, waiting for a situation to develop that required his intervention.

The words to his last casting barely off his lips, Gorak began anew, this time summoning a ball of elemental fire, directly at the feet of the Orc.  A blinding stroke of lighting followed almost immediately, felling the screaming Orc, who burst into flames as he collapsed upon the glowing orb.  Geoff and Azarek, kept at distance without clear targets,  held their weapons at the ready, awaiting instructions from those with better vantage.

Her face an expressionless mask, Shayla continued to focus her considerable power on the two ogres suffering from the effects of Khalid's toxic mist.  Relentless, she battered away at them, alternating jets of flame with orbs of force, finally driving them to the ground. 

Khalid, circling the battlefield, was forced to dodge aside as a fist sized rock sailed past his head.  He watched as the orb of flame burned its way through the weeds to brush up against the ogre, who was still twitching from a bolt of lightening arcing down from the heavens.  Seeing the ranger struggling closer to the boundary of Gorak's magic, and feeling as though he should be helping, tossed out a tiny spark that burst in a cloud of golden dust that clung to the ranger and ogre.    With more than a small amount of disappointment, he realized that his spell has been only half effective, blinding the grievously wounded ogre.  The ranger, contorting his body, twisted from of the branches that held him.   Momentarily free, he lunged forward, his feet barely touching ground as he sought to escape.  Frowning, Khalid warned the others.  _The ranger is fleeing.  He's broken free of Gorak's snares and heads south._

“Whut to you expect me to do about it?” Azarek yelled.  Weighed down by his cumbersome armour and forced to circle the worst of the magic, there was little hope he could catch the woodsman.

“Nevermind,” Gorak growled.  “I got him.  Finish off them ogres.”  Raising his arms above his head, the brought them down sharply, feathered wings propelling him into the air.  

Shayla, not needing the added instruction, continued her deadly assault while Gorak flew off into the trees.  As the last ogre fell, a bolt of lightening split the sky.  The rumbling thunder still lingered in the air as a second bolt flashed down.  Khalid, not overly concerned for Gorak's safety in the present circumstance, drifted down toward Geoff an Azarek.  Seconds later, Shayla joined them.

The waited silently for a few minutes.  Khalid was about to suggest flying off to find Gorak when he appeared out of the trees behind them, hand resting on the shoulder of the ranger.  With a shove, he sent the ranger sprawling forward, falling at Geoff's feet.

“It's harder to motivate him proper if'n he's already half dead,” Azarek rasped, eyeing the blistering burn that covered the ranger's left side.  The dagger in his hand leaving no doubt as to his meaning.

Gorak shrugged.  “He needed some convincing that the first one missed on purpose.”  

“What did you tell them?” Geoff demanded, the rage in his voice barely concealed.  Gavin simply looked away, a look of grim resignation on his face.

“Want me to ask him?” Azarek asked, curling his metal clad hand into a fist.

 Before Geoff could answer, Shayla let out a low whistle, and stood up from where she had been rummaging through the ranger's belongings.  “Well, whatever he told them, they sure paid him well for the information.”  She held out a hefty sack of gold and gems, taken from Gavin's pack.

Geoff rubbed his hands over his face as though to scrub himself clean of the unpleasant situation.  Indecision etched clearly on his features, it was clear to  Khalid that he was weighing the safety of his village against his sense of morality.  In the end, the needs of the village won out and he turned his back on Gavin, and nodded to Azarek.

Azarek walked over the the man, and drove the toe of his iron shod boot into his solar plexus.  “Last chance before I start cutting off bits that won't grow back.”    As he knelt down, drawing a dagger from his belt, Gavin's will broke.

“Everything,” he gasped, still struggling for breath.  “I told them everything.”

“You betrayed your oath?” Geoff's face paled.  “How could you?”  Gavin didn't reply, but Khalid could clearly see the shame lurking behind his defiant gaze.

Gorak, his glance shifting from Geoff to Gavin, growled.  “What do you know about this Orc?  The one that's got 'em all riled up.  You meet him in person?”

Gavin, clearly relieved to break away from Geoff's disbelieving stare, said, “Only once.  It's not hard to see why they rally to him, he is an imposing figure and uncommonly persuasive for a full blood.”  He looked back at Geoff.  “And he has power.  He could be the one.”

Geoff closed his eyes and turned titled his head back.  Taking a deep breath he asked, “Are you sure?”

“I think so.  I never got too close to him, but from what I saw he could fit the legends.”

“Maybe he's lying,” Azarek rasped.  “Gimme a few minutes alone with him to ask him proper.”  Khalid was a pretty good judge of character, and didn't sense any falsehood in the man's manner or words.  He suspected Azarek was just disappointed.

“Why would I lie?” Gavin asked.  “They don't owe me anything now that our business is done.  They'd just as soon kill me as look at me.  The best I can hope for now is that your hired thugs just rob me of my gold.”

“You got that right,” Shayla replied, a hard edge in her voice.

But Khalid could see that Geoff was torn.  Executing a man you had known all your life was not a simple thing, and the emotion that filled his gaze was not anger, but pity.

“Maybe we should talk things over,” Gorak growled.  “Gag him.”

Azarek complied, and they drew away a little, out of earshot.  “I don't think I can do it.” Geoff admitted, before anybody spoke.”

“Yer kiddin'?” Azarek spat.  “This sorry sack jus sold you out to some filthy Orcs...”.  He glanced at Gorak, “No offence.”  Gorak just glared at him.  “Damnit,” he cursed, leaning back against tree.  “I never get to have no fun.”

“I fought beside him.  I owe him my life, as do a dozen others in the village,” Geoff replied.  “He was a good man once, I'd like to believe he could be that man again.”

“Yeah, well, might I just add that, speaking from experience, our loose ends tend to bite us in the ass,” Shayla said. “This guy is just one more headache that we can cure right now.”  She turned to Geoff.  “You wanted us in this?  Well, we're in it now.”

“Well,” Azarek rasped, pushing himself up.  “That's two votes fer and one aginst, by my reckoning.  Khalid?”

“Ah, yes, well,  perhaps, yes, perhaps Geoff is right,” Khalid replied.  

Azarek scowled at him, and then turned to Gorak. “A'right, Orc, break the tie and lets get on wit it.”

Gorak rubbed his jaw and regarded Geoff silently for a few minutes.  “I ain't so sure.”  Azarek snorted in disgust, clearly surprised.  “I'm not so sure I want the blood of a worshipper of Ilsadora on my hands.  Maybe we've helped out enough here, without getting our hands into some really unpleasant business.”  He pulled a tiny silver chain out of a pocket in his vest, the one he had taken from one of the bodies at the way stop, and tossed it to Geoff.  “I'm betting that under his armor there, I'm gonna find one of those.”

“Ah, Ilsadora?” Khalid asked, puzzled.  It wasn't a name he was familiar with.

“Yeah.  Ilsadora, Mother of the Green.  Took me a while to puzzle it out.  Known as Shedaska, the Jade Princess, in the West.  Not so popular there, what with the desert and all, but some of the jungle tribes pay her tribute.  As far as gods go, she ain't a bad one, if you're inta that sort of thing.  And I figure these lads are into it, in a big way.  The woodsmen at least, and probably the whole village too.”

Geoff nodded. “We never sought to conceal that fact,” he replied, somewhat belligerently, his eyes locked on Gorak.

“But you ain't exactly singing her praises from the rooftops, these days, eh?”

Geoff lowered his gaze.  “We aren't immune to whatever has happened to all of the other faithful.  Our prayers are met with silence.”

“Maybe she just got bored wit you lot, and buggered off,” Azarek rasped.

“A possibility all have considered, in our hearts if not aloud.  But it's just as likely that the problem lies with each of us.  Perhaps they are still speaking and we can no longer hear.  Either way, we don't believe it was by choice.”

“You're still not telling us the whole story,” Gorak growled.  

“You're right,” Geoff admitted.  “And when I tell you, you'll understand both the reason why and the depth of our desperation.  Our village was built to hide something ancient, something dangerous.  Orc priests and mystics have sought what we have kept hidden away for centuries.  And now that we need her the most, when we are discovered, Ilsadora can not aid us, nor we her.”

“So what is it?” Shayla asked, straight to the point.

“An idol that is said to bear a tiny sliver of the essence of Rasha'gaur.”

Gorak's eyes narrowed.  Glaring at Geoff, he snarled, “That's just a myth.  Something for the crazies to trot out to incite other crazies into doing something stupid.”

“I wish it were,” Geoff replied.

Khalid stroked his beard, a worried frown on his face.  He didn't recognize the name but he was taken aback by the vehemence in Gorak's tone.  But that wasn't what concerned Khalid the most; it was the other note in his voice bothered him.  Something he hadn't heard in a long time.  

Fear.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Oooooh!

I look forward to the next quarterly update.


----------



## EternalNewbie

“Who's Rasha'guar?” Shayla asked.

“The Orc-Father.  The patron of the entire race,” Geoff replied.  Turning to Gorak he added, “You see now why we were reluctant to allow you into our village.  Even telling you this much is in violation of my oath and may condemn me to the same fate as Gavin.  But after what I witnessed today, I think maybe you're the only chance we've got of coming through this.”

“Lucky for you, I'm the one Orc that ain't got no use fer gods.”  Gorak growled, regaining control of his emotions.  Barely.

“Ah, what power does the idol hold?” Khalid asked.

“Our holy writings tell of a ritual which will raise an avatar upon the earth.  An embodiment of the god himself.”

“Ah, I knew I didn't want the answer to that question,” Khalid muttered.

“Why all this messing around with a piece of rock.  Why not just show up down here and cause some havoc?” Shayla asked.

Khalid, sifting through his knowledge of planar beings, hit upon several possible conclusions, finally abandoning all but the most likely.  “Contained within mortal flesh, he would be vulnerable.  The ability of the other deities to interfere, indirectly through their followers, would present a grave risk.  I suspect its possible that whatever power Rasha'guar imbued in a mortal artifact could be completely destroyed upon this plane.”

“But without the other gods to keep him in check...” Shayla trailed off, looking at Geoff.

“He'll grow in power until nothing on this earth can stand against him,” Geoff replied.  “I still cannot fathom why he would do it.  Rasha'guar values power above all else.  To willingly sacrifice some of his divine essence, to diminish himself upon the heavenly plane to store his power upon the mortal realm is almost unfathomable.  Perhaps he alone of all the gods had the wisdom to foresee this day.”

“Or maybe he jus figured it was a matter of time before the rest of them gods blasted him into divine dust and wanted a second chance tucked away someplace safe.” Gorak rumbled.

“Ah, it doesn't really matter does it.  The possibility alone is worth ensuring this thing does not, yes, not fall into their hands.”  Khalid declared.  Azarek glared at him.

“Do I have to remind you what happened the last time we tried to be heroes?” Shayla retorted.  She pointed at her jet black hair.  “I got a permanent makeover.”

“I'm with Khalid on this one darling,” Gorak growled.  “Ain't nothing good gonna come of them Orcs getting their hands on that statue.”

“You sure about that?” Azarek rasped.  “Can't see it being a problem for you.”

Gorak shrugged.  “Oh I'd do better than you lot, a'right.  But I'm only half-orc and that's gonna put me at the bottom of the heap.  Can't say I care much for the thought.”

“We can't allow this to come to pass,” Khalid pleaded with Shayla.

She turned away, flicking her long black hair over her shoulder.  “I know that,” she admitted.  “But this is gonna get messy.  Mark my words.”

“Always seems too, with you lot,” Azarek rasped.  Can't say it's good fer the lifespan, but it'll keep you sharp, a'right.  But haven't made the important decision yet.”  He pointed back in the direction of the ranger.  “What to do wit that fool.  Let's hear your vote.”

Gorak glanced at Khalid.  “You want him alive.  Then you deal with him.”  He turned to Azarek.  “And what makes you think your vote counts?  You follow or you leave.”

They returned to the bound ranger.  Pulling the gag from Gavin's mouth, Gorak knelt down beside him.  “How much time do we have?” he growled.

“It's a matter of hours now, I'd guess,” Gavin replied, trying to edge away from Gorak.

“Ah, we can perhaps make a few more miles yet today, but I must admit, I am quite, yes, quite exhausted,” Khalid pointed out, pragmatically.  “I will make little difference until we have had time to rest and I do not relish the prospect of trying to out manoeuvre Orcs in the dark.”  

“Yer right.  I'll warn the village.  You do what you can.  Khalid, worst case, can you get everybody into the village like you got us into Caer Morag?” Gorak asked.

“Tomorrow, yes, although that will require a great, yes great deal of my strength in advance of any battle.”

“I know that,” Gorak growled.  “Jez be prepared.”  He closed his eyes, concentrating.


Before he could shift, Geoff spoke.  “Wait. Erik's not going to believe you.  Tell him 'The sun never sets upon the Green'.  He'll know then that I trusted you.”  Nodding, Gorak shimmered in the form of a hawk and flew away through the trees.

“Yes, quite.  We are in agreement then, yes?”  Khalid addressed Geoff.  “I will of course, defer to you in this judgement, but I do not care for the thought of executing this man.” Geoff, with a long glance at Gavin, nodded, then turned his back and walked away.

“I still can't believe we're just going to cut that piece of shyte loose.”  Shayla muttered, shaking her head.

“Ah, yes, I just said that I didn't want him killed.  I never said I was going to let him go unpunished,” Khalid replied.  Gesturing at Azarek he added,  “Relieve him of his weapons and cut him free.”  Grumbling under his breath, Azarek grudgingly complied.  The ranger rolled away from Azarek and crab crawled back against a tree, watching them warily.  He clearly didn't believe that they were going to release him.

“Geoff has asked that we spare your life and I am inclined to agree with him,” Khalid said.  “He still has faith that you can redeem yourself.”  Folding his arms into the sleeves of his robes, Khalid leaned forward and spoke down to him.  “Ah, I, on the other hand, am not a religious man.  You are being given what too few people get.  A second chance.  And I intend to ensure that you use it.  Remember that we found you, in your own lands, with ease and can do so again.  There is no mountain high enough, nor cave deep enough, to hide you from us, so I suggest that you consider this a parole, not a pardon.  Leave this place and spend your life atoning for your betrayal.  Fail to do so, and I will see that you suffer the judgement you deserve.”  Khalid stared straight into the mans eyes, holding his gaze.

_We will be watching you_

Gavin jerked upright, glancing around nervously as thoughts that were not his own echoed in his mind.  Satisfied, Khalid turned his back as the man scrambled off into the bush, vanishing between the trees.

“Clever,” Shayla admitted, watching him run off.  “But do you really think you accomplished anything?”

Khalid shrugged.  “Ah, consider it a social experiment. I do fully intend to check up on him, at some point.  Perhaps fear will lead him to do good, until it once again becomes its own reward.  If not...” Khalid shrugged, “it would seem to me that we may yet have use for desperate men like him, yes?”

Azarek chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder.  “Jez when I think I can't stand you no more, you go ahead and surprise me.  The look on his face was almost worth not stringing him up for the buzzards.  Almost.”

“Ah, yes quite,” Khalid muttered.  “Perhaps it is time we were on our way,” he suggested in a louder tone, glancing up at the fading light filtering through the trees.  

They wasted no time falling into line behind Geoff, but it was less than an hour later when he called an abrupt halt.  Motioning them close, he pointed out Orc tracks heading at an angle toward the village.  More and more, their place slowed as the shadows lengthened.  Soon, they found more tracks heading in the same direction, not even trying to conceal their passage.  One group looked to be about two dozen strong, although they didn't spare the time to count.  Taking care to  make as little noise as possible, Geoff crept forward, only ten feet ahead of Khalid.  

A half dozen steps further, he knelt to the ground and waved them back.  They dropped low and pushed into a small thicket, waiting for the Orcs to pass.  Voices, no more than a dozen yards away, split through the gloom. Khalid practically held his breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible.  Geoff curled up around the base of a tree, pulling his mottled green-brown cloak up around him.  A sharp laugh reached them, followed by an unintelligible stream of Orcish as the voices receded.  With a sigh of relief, Geoff removed his hand from the hilt of his longsword, and crept back to the rest of them.  “I think there is a serious encampment nearby.  A staging point, or at least a large war band.  Those two were sentries.  There's still plenty of forest between us and the village, so I'm confident I can get us around them.  But I'm not confident I can do it in the dark with you three.”

“Agreed,” Khalid replied.  Waiting a few more minutes, he cast a spell, the arcane words distressingly loud in the still forest.  Clambering up the rope, they entered the bland grey sanctuary of Khalid's pocket dimension.  For the first time all day, they were able to relax as Azarek sealed the gate behind them.  Sitting down to a bland, cheerless meal, Khalid couldn't help but wonder how Gorak was faring.


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

Updated the Map.


----------



## EternalNewbie

Muscles surging, Gorak  crested the tree tops and headed straight for the village.  Quickly nearing the town, his eyes, sharpened by the transformation, picked out flickers of movement between the trees below.  Grimly, he redoubled his efforts, racing through the sky.  What would take more than half a day on foot took him less then an hour to cover in flight and soon the first houses at the edge of the village came into sight.  He was more than a little relieved to see that the assault had not yet begun and the town below bustled with activity.  He flew toward the centre of the village, circling above a long, low building, three times the size of the largest house.  Leather clad rangers and villagers swarmed around it, erecting wooden battlements along the edges of the roof.  A fifteen foot tall watch tower, newly built by the looks of it, sat in the centre with a ranger on the platform at the top scanning the tree line in all directions.  Spotting Erik among the men on the roof, Gorak swooped in low and shifted back to his normal form, eliciting more than a few startled gasps.

Erik, watching him with an decidedly unfriendly expression, spoke up as the men looked around in confusion and reached for their swords.  “Put your weapons away,” he barked.  “This one's friendly.  Or stupid.  Either way, he's not much of a threat.”

“Not to you at least,” Gorak growled.  “There's four ogres and an Orc buried in a shallow grave out there that'd disagree.  Before you get your panties in a bunch, Geoff said to tell you, 'The sun never sets upon the Green'.”

Although the scowl didn't leave his face, Erik seemed to relax slightly.  “Alright, he trusted you enough to make sure we wouldn't kill you outright.  Now tell me, why isn't he here to vouch for you himself.”

“We found your boy Gavin.  Seems like he didn't like the odds too much on this side of the wall, and cut hisself a deal with the Orcs.”  He leaned in close to Erik.  “He told them everything and you'd better believe I know what that means.  You're gonna have a whole mess of Orcs in here any time now.”

Erik, anger simmering just below the surface of his impassive demeanour, replied, “We pulled in our scouts this afternoon.  There's Orc sign all over the edge of the woods in large numbers.  If Geoff broke his oath and told you,” he held up his hand as Gorak started to protest, “for whatever reason, then you know what's coming.  You'd better clear out of here.”

“I don't think so,” Gorak rumbled.  “We're gonna see this one through.  And by the end of it, trust me, yer gonna need us.  The other's will be here by morning.”

“Well, that'll help,” Erik replied, mastering his emotions.  “If we live that long.  Know anything about sieges?”

“More than you lot, I'd wager.” Gorak growled.  “We're one for two.  We're turned back a tribe of Orcs at Knolton but the Dwerro at Caer Morag, not so much.  And both of them towns had ramparts.  You might have considered a wall at some time in the last few hundred years, you know.”

“You can't wall out the Green,” Erik answered piously.  Seeing Gorak's grimace, he relented.  “But I'll give you that one.  I'd feel a lot better if there were a half dozen feet of stone between us and the forest right about now.”

“Normally, all you'd have ta do is ask me nicely, but I don't think we've got the time.”

“Well, unless you could conjure me up another hundred blades to man it, it probably wouldn't matter much anyhow.”  Erik sized him up with a sidelong glance.  “I figured the tan fellow in the red dress for a wizard, but you don't look the sort.  Earthbrother?”

“If that's what you want to call it, sure.” Gorak agreed.

“Still can't see how you figure you're better off on this side then the other.”

“I've delivered more than one of Rasha'guar's holy men to their final reward, Ranger.  I don't think that's gonna endear me to him a whole lot.  And I got those other fools to think of too.” He shrugged.  Besides, only thing Orcs like killing more than humans is other Orcs.”

“And why might that be?”

“They put up a better fight,” Gorak replied with a grin.  Turning serious again, he asked, “What have you got planned?”

“There's no way we can hold the perimeter.  We're fortifying an area around this building, pulling down some houses and blocking up the roads.  We'll give them just enough resistance in the outskirts to make them cautious, then pull back to inner defenses.  If Gavin betrayed us, they won't stop until they reach this building or they're all dead.  We'll give them a few soft spots to push through and funnel them here, bleeding them every step of the way.”

Gorak nodded.  “Can't argue with that.  What about the women and children?”

“Everybody able to wield a sword has got one.  The rest are hidden away in safe rooms in houses near the centre of town.”

“Well, the rest of my crew are stuck on the other side of the lines until morning and there ain't nothing I can do about that, so I might as well pitch in.”  With a nod to Erik, Gorak dropped off the roof and headed over to a group of men dismantling a house.  Picking up one of the huge timbers from the wall of the building and setting it on his shoulder, he walked it over to where a group of men were sharpening stakes to create a wooden palisade.  Tossing it to the ground in front of them, he headed back for another.  He worked in silence beside the men of the village, sensing their unease with his presence.  Gradually, they began to relax after it became clear he was easily doing the work of two men.  When a young girl came around with a wine skin, one of the men nodded his head in Gorak's direction, and she hesitantly walked over to him, offering him a drink.  Taking a long pull of what turned out to be a fairly powerful fermented fruit juice and handing it back to the girl, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and got back to work.

He toiled tirelessly through the afternoon, barely pausing to catch his breath.  He tossed a final armload of wood upon a heap of oil soaked branches, one of a dozen scattered around the centre of the town, placed both as a barrier and a counter to the unparallelled Orcish night vision.  Stretching his arms over his head, he attempted to relieve his aching muscles as he walked back to the ranger's barracks, climbing up on the roof to rejoin Erik, who was quietly surveying the defenses from his vantage point.  They watched in silence for a time, while the villagers continued their work.  

Finally, Gorak spoke.  “So I gotta ask.  Why keep that thing here?  Why not destroy it?”

“We never could figure out how.  More than a few died trying,” Erik replied.  “Even if we knew how, would you do it?  Raise your hand against a god?  It's one thing to kill a few of his followers.  It's something else to destroy part of his being.  How long could you withstand the terrible hatred of a savage and powerful God?”

Gorak, thinking back to the unpleasantness the dogged them since they left Shalazar, grumbled.  “Long enough.  But I kin see your point.  Not that it matters much now.”

“Not at all,” Erik agreed.

Here and there among the houses, torches were lit and Gorak knew that many more had been placed in the event the Orcs attacked in the night.  Eventually, they were engulfed in true darkness, the sun vanishing at the appearance of the twin moons, beneath a glittering canopy of stars.  The village had begun to quiet, when a sound Gorak hadn't heard in at least a decade reached his ears.  What started out as a low throbbing became a rumble that gained in strength, rolling over the town like a wave.  Gorak's blood surged as his heritage overtook him, his hands clenching involuntarily into fists.  He looked around at the faces of the men beside him, hardened soldiers, seeing the blood drain away.  They may not have been born to it, but they knew the sound as well as he.  Orcish war drums.

“Well Orc,” Erik said loudly, speaking over the rising din, “looks like you're gonna get your chance to prove which side you're really on.”

“Soon enough,” Gorak agreed, listening to the tempo.  “They ain't in no rush yet.  They'll let you stew on it for a bit while they work themselves into a frenzy.  By now, they know you're cut off and there ain't no help coming.”  He paused, staring out into the darkness.  “It's gonna be a long night and one helluva an interesting morning.”


----------



## TaranTheWanderer

Just a bump....Heads up...


----------



## EternalNewbie

A particularly violent snore from Azarek startled Khalid awake.  Seizing the cowl of his robe, he pulled it over his head in a vain attempt to recapture the fleeting remnants of sleep but all too quickly thoughts of  the coming day boiled up in his mind and immediately rendered sleep impossible.  Rolling over, he sought out the portal and seeing nothing but darkness, decided it was still several hours before daybreak.  Stifling a prodigious yawn, he scrounged around in his pack for his spellbook.  Pulling it out, he sat up and realized for the first time that Shayla, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the magical dimension, was staring at him.

“Ah, I hope I didn't disturb your sleep,” Khalid whispered hoarsely, knowing that waking the others would lead to the day's grim preparations, something he was too groggy to yet contemplate.

“I don't sleep anymore,” Shayla replied.  “Not really.  Not since I crossed over.”  It was rare for Shayla to bring up what had happened on the road outside Caer Morag, and Khalid was never quite sure how to react.  Not knowing what to say, he said nothing.  She seemed only half aware of him and continued on without prompting.  “  Now I just...sit.  Very still.  And I don't dream either.  I think maybe I'm starting to forget what it was like altogether.  Isn't that strange?”

“Ah, yes, I, supposed that would very well be an unusual experience.”  Khalid studied her carefully.  “But lack of sleep aside, how do you feel?”  Before a battle, the old Shayla had practically hummed with energy.  A concentration of power that infected her actions, her gestures and even her speech.  Now, she seemed calm, almost serene.  It was, in an unusual way, distressing.

“Don't worry Khalid.  I'll be ready.  I feel fine.  I feel...strong.”  She replied, absently scratching her familiar, Emma under the chin.

“Yes, quite,” Khalid replied somewhat hesitantly, eliciting a long stare from the cat, eerie in its similarity to her master's.  

Before he could press the issue, Geoff awoke and stood up.  Looking out the portal, he said, “We should get moving.  It's going to be light soon.” 

Khalid gathered up his things and kicked the heel of Azarek's boot, who awoke with a snort.  Grumbling under his breath, Azarek began the tedious process of assembling his heavy plate armour.  With Geoff's help, he was ready in a matter of minutes.  Settling his helm over his horns, he slung his huge hand and a half sword over his shoulder, and belted the Dwerro war hammer around his waist.  With a grunt at Khalid, he indicated his readiness.

Pushing the rope outside, Khalid opened the portal, then quickly stepped back, startled by the sound of drums that flooded into their quiet refuge.

“The Orcs are on the move,” Geoff said.  “We have got to get to the village.”

Dropping out into the dim, predawn light, Khalid groaned inwardly.  Outside the air was warm and damp, even in the early morning among the shade of the trees.  It would not be a pleasant day.  They took up the same positions as the night before with Geoff leading a dozen feet ahead and Azarek taking up the rear, every step dogged by the sound of drums.

* * * * * * * * * *​
“Erik,” a breathless villager called up from the street below.

Erik broke away from conferring with his lieutenants at the base of the tower on his rooftop command post and walked to the edge.  “What is it, Stephen?”

“Arron said to tell you there are Orcs massing to the south.  We can see them moving along the tree line.”

“All right.  Richard.  Markus.  Darryl,” he singled out three villagers from a group of men standing guard near the door of the barracks.  I want you to run out to the other forward positions and get me a report.  Stephen, stay put until the others get back then run the news back out.”  Glancing at Gorak, he said, “If your friends don't get here soon, the only way they're gonna help is by digging our graves .”

“Tell me about it,” Gorak growled.  “They're caught behind the lines.  I'm gonna go try and get them through.  I'll be back before the fun starts.”   Before Erik could stop him, he stepped off the edge of the roof and flew off to the south.

* * * * * * * * * *​
“I've been looking for you for hours,” Gorak growled, shifting back into his Orcish form and dropping to the ground in front of Khalid.

“Whut did you expect?  The idea was to stay hidden from Orcs, remember?” Azarek pointed out with a smirk.

“The plan was to help the village,” Gorak growled.  “Not wander around the woods for a day and a half.”

“Blame the ranger,” Azarek rasped.  “He's such a good tracker he finds Orcs even when he ain't looking for 'em.”

“You're in fine form today,” Shayla remarked caustically.

“Imminent violence always puts me in a good mood,” Azarek replied with wink.  “And this time I don't even hafta dangle my cod out in the breeze to get it,” he added with a barking laugh.  “Anyhow, the Orcs is thick as flies on shyte in this wee little spot of forest, and so far, we ain't be able to sneak through.”

“Ah, and we are not yet close enough to the village,” Khalid added.  “I would not risk, yes, risk the magick unravelling and depositing us in the middle of the Orcish horde.”

“I'll lead you through.  Stick close.  We're gonna move fast.”  Raising his hands over his head, he chanted words of power.  In the hazy clouds above, thunder rumbled.  “And if we see the son of a bitch that's stirring up this rabble, I'll end this thing right now.”

“Ain't nothing but a whole lotta blood gonna end this now,” Azarek muttered but Gorak was already in the air.

The humidity was a physical thing now, clinging to their skin and clogging their lungs.  Khalid had been in fair share of unpleasant situations, but the harrowing run through the woods ranked up there with the worst.  All around them were the sounds of the Orcish horde, screaming and chanting to the rhythm of the drums.  Gorak, in the form of an owl, flitted from tree to tree, occasionally disappearing from sight to scout ahead.  Every so often he would swoop down in front of them, turning their course to avoid Orcs in their path.  The constant thunder of drums eliminated the need for silence, so they concentrated on following Gorak with all possible haste.  Dripping with sweat, Khalid kept pace easily.   Azarek however, unaffected by the heat but burdened by his massive armour, struggled to keep up.  Just when he thought he sound of the drums would drive him mad, Gorak flew back into sight, circling above their heads before rising up into the trees.   Khalid took that to mean they were close to the village, and immediately began to invoke his magic.  Finishing his first spell, he allowed the magick to flow inward and breathed a sigh of relief as his feet rose several inches off the ground.  Turning to Azarek, a flicker of movement caught his eye through the trees.  Hastily launching into another spell, garbled Orcish, much closer than before, echoed around them.

While Khalid was casting, Shayla closed her eyes and muttered a word of command. The jet black feathers of her cloak began squirm and writhe, flowing across her body.  Bowing her head, she seemed to almost collapse in upon herself beneath the drape.  Vanishing, in her place, a raven rested on the ground.  Flexing her wings, she flew into the trees, following Gorak.

Arcane words rolling together into an unending stream, Khalid touched Azarek on the shoulder, and with a grin he shot upwards over their head.  Without stopping for breath, Khalid spat out the words to a final spell, reaching down to touch Geoff on the head as he willed himself into the air.  Needing no instruction, Geoff followed as Orcs poured into the small clearing below, howling in anger at their fleeing prey.

Above the tree tops, Khalid could barely make out the village clearing.  Gorak and Shayla were already some distance ahead, with Azarek trailing them.  Propelling himself forward with the full force of his magic, he sailed through the air, red robes flapping in the wind.  Covering the miles quickly, through the occasional gap in the foliage below, he could see Orcs heading north, converging on the village.  Minutes later, houses came into view and they passed over the tree line.  To Khalid's dismay, beneath them the Orcish horde surged towards the village.  Even at his current height, Khalid could pick out distinct tribes among mob.  Some were almost naked, wearing little more than loincloths, their bodies and faces covered in warpaint.  Others ran beneath a banner of a clenched fist rising from a black sun, their spears festooned with shrivelled human heads.  

Distracted by the scene beneath his feet, Khalid recognized his peril only an instant before it was too late.  Willing himself straight up into the air, a swarm of arrows fired from the town passed just below him to fall among the Orcs.  A dozen or more tumbled to the ground, but their losses were barely a ripple in the tide that swelled from the trees.  They quickly reached the first houses and he could see how desperate the situation was.  Orcs were swarming through the streets and alleys and the outer defenders were already hard pressed.  As they flew over a fierce battle raging in one of the side streets, it was clear the townsfolk wouldn't be able to hold and several were already turning to flee.  Gorak banked hard and circled back.  A bolt of lightning flashed down from the hazy sky, directly in the centre of the ravaging Orcs.  The unfortunate recipient of the blast was completely obliterated while those around him reeled away dazed, buying a few precious seconds for the villagers to retreat. 

From rooftops across the town, archers fired into the Orcish mob.  When the Orcs swarmed forward, climbing up walls and gaining the rooftops, the archers retreated back across wooden planks, pulling them along behind to prevent attackers from using them.  In close quarters, the short bow the villagers favoured was quick and deadly, but Khalid saw more than one group cut off and swarmed.  Knowing he could do little to save them without weakening himself, Khalid gritted his teeth and flew on, saving his energy for when it would be most useful.  Picking out the command post on top of the barracks, he headed straight for it.  Passed the immediate threat of arrows, he allowed himself to descend, picking up speed in the process.  Behind him, a another crack of thunder split the air, but Khalid didn't even bother to look.  The square around the barracks swarmed with defenders.  Villagers armed with spears and swords manned makeshift palisades blocking the roads leading in.  In the centre a dozen archers with arrows in hand stood ready.      Khalid could see Erik standing on the roof of the barracks, surrounded by several other rangers.

As Khalid touched down on the roof, a second behind Azarek, the ranger in the watchtower called out, “They're through Miller’s crossing!”  Almost as one, the archers raised their bows and began to fire, arcing their arrows high into the air.  Although they couldn't see their targets, they knew their village and they had the range.  Moments later, Geoff landed and Shayla swooped in and reverted to her normal form beside them.  Gorak continued to circle high overhead for a minute longer, calling down another blinding flash of lightning on some unsuspecting Orc.  With a final screech, he tucked in his wings and dropped from the sky, pulling up and shifting an instant before he hit the roof.  The screech turned into a stream of curses as he shifted form.

“Ya find the bastard leading this rabble?” Azarek rasped over the noise around them.

“No!” Gorak growled.  “That son of a whore is hiding among the peons.”

“Erik!  Erik!” A villager shouted, as he clambered over one of the barricades.  The soldiers manning it reached over and pulled him across. Blood streamed down his face from a cut on his scalp and his hand was pressed tightly against a garish wound that had cut through the leather armour over his ribs.  He staggered over to the barracks, barely able to stand.  “They're breaking through in the west!  The outer defences are gone and we're being driven back.”

Erik cursed.  “Too fast.”  He shook his head in disbelief.  “They're pushing us back too fast.  We need to hold them!”  He turned to issue an order, when the ranger called down from the watch tower.  “The South is overrun!  They're through on all sides.”  For a second, Erik said nothing, then he turned to Geoff.  “You trust them with our most sacred charge?”  Geoff simply nodded.  “And they're that good?”  he pressed.  

Gorak, a sneer on his face was about to reply, when he caught sight of a pair of Orcs forcing their way into the square through a narrow alley.  With a flick of his hand, a bolt of lightning streaked down an electrocuted the one in the lead, who dropped to the ground, twitching.  Before the archers could react, another bolt flashed down and the second Orc simply exploded, spraying blood and gore over the stunned defenders.

“How much more proof you gonna need?” he growled, with a evil grin.

“They're our best hope, Erik,” Geoff added.  

Erik, chewing on his lower lip, seemed momentarily torn with indecision. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and when he opened them, all the anger and frustration was gone, replaced with a calm resignation.  “Get them below.  Now!” he barked.

Nodding, Geoff stepped off the roof and floated the to the ground.  “Follow me!”  Gorak and Shayla dropped down into the street, while Azarek and Khalid, using the fading power of Khalid's spell, flew after him towards a nondescript house on the edge of the square.  The sounds of combat surged down the street, a deafening riot of ringing steel and screams of rage and anger.

Erik gestured into the centre of the square and the rangers on the roof began dropping down into the street.  The last to descend, Erik drew his longsword as he landed, advancing to the south.  
“For your village!” he called out in a huge voice that carried across the square, above the noise. “For the Green!” he roared, pulling out a wicked hatchet with his other hand.  The archers dropped their bows in the street, and began drawing swords.  “FOR ILSADORA!”  The rangers charged forward, directly at the huge surge of Orcs that crashed into southern defences of the plaza, like a force of nature.

Khalid had defended the ramparts of Knolton and stood on the walls of Caer Morag, but he had never been this close to a full on battle.  In those few seconds while the ran across the square, Khalid witnessed heroism and savagery he could have barely conceived.  Savage Orcs, inflamed with religious fervour attacked relentlessly.  Villagers, defending hearth and home, battled back with desperation.

Reaching the building, Geoff hammered on the door with the butt of his sword.  “It's Geoff! Open the door!”  An instant later, a bolt drew back and the door opened.  Stumbling inside, Khalid was surprised how small the interior of the building was.  The walls were twice as thick as any of the other buildings, and the door was plated with iron.  From the outside the house appeared to have shuttered windows, but within the walls were solid.  In the centre of the room, a solid oak table had been overturned and two rangers, with arrows nocked to their bows, stood ready.  The ranger that let them in slammed the door behind them and threw the bolt.  The sounds of battle vanished, leaving them in a disconcerting silence broken only by the sound of their laboured breathing.

“Erik ordered us below,” Geoff said, moving around the table.  The two rangers pulled it aside and  reached down, pulling up the floorboards.  Beneath the wood, two iron rings were set into a thick slab of stone, and it took both of them to lift it free.   A narrow staircase descended into the darkness below.  Shayla muttered a few words and lit the area, shining the light down.  Geoff led the way, ducking his head to clear the floor, with Khalid tripping on his heels.  Azarek, hooking the Dwerro warhammer on his belt, drew his sword and followed, platemail screeching along the narrow walls as he hunched down.

Gorak glanced up and was about to motion for Shayla to go next, when the thick beams along the wall began to creak and groan.  In an instant, he knew what was coming.  He seized hold of Shayla by the collar of her cloak and hurled her away from the wall, sending her sprawling to the ground.  “Get back,” he roared, scrambling backwards, desperately hoping he was far enough away from the centre of the spell.  The rangers, surprised by his actions, hesitated for just a moment before following his command.   A moment too long for the man standing closest to the southern corner.  He gasped and sank to the ground, tearing at his chest.  His cheeks sank in, the skin splitting like dry bark as his eyes rolled back into his head.  The roof began to sag dangerous while the floorboards shrivelled and cracked.   A second later, the corner of the building crumbled into dust and sunlight flooded in.

Words on his lips before the wall even started to fall away, Gorak hurled a spell out the gap, hoping to buy time.  Orcs voices, from all around the building shouted and cursed.   “Get below!” he roared again.  The rangers scrambled for the trap door, practically falling down the staircase in their haste.  

Shayla was just getting to her feet, when an Orc stepped into view, slugging through what had become thick mud, almost knee deep.  His face was a mass of scars,some fresh, that turned his brown skin, grey.  Gold caps adorned his tusks and rich pelts covered shirt of polished steel chain.  He was tall for an Orc, stooping slightly to peer into the house, but lanky and lean for his race.  In his head hand, held low in front of him, was either a gnarled wooden branch or a mummified foot, twisted and blackened.  On one knee, Shayla lunged forward and with a flick of her wrist cast a handful of glittering disks spinning through the air.  The first sliced through the Orcs thigh, almost at the hip, the second took him in the arm as he raised it in defence.  The third, but for a twitch of the ' neck would have severed the artery in the throat.  With a hideous curse, the Orc dodged back behind the safety of the wall.  Continuing her motion, she gained her feet in one smooth stride and dropped through the hole.

Gorak leapt forward, following her into the staircase.  Twisting around, he had the presence of mind to grab the stone slab and pull it back into place.  Flipping closed the iron hooks around the edge, he secured it tightly.  Joining Shayla at the bottom, he headed down a narrow hallway, lit only by a single magical fire, burning without fuel in an small iron sconce.

“Stick to the left side,” Geoff called out from somewhere up ahead. 

Another few steps and they came to a branch in the tunnel. Following Geoff's instructions, they squeezed past one of the rangers that had been guarding the room upstairs.  When they passed, he knelt down and touched a small rock at the base of the wall.  It twisted under his grasp, and an audible click echoed down the hall.  Twenty steps further the tunnels rejoined and then opened up into a large square room, some forty feet on a side with ceilings almost half that.  More of the magical flames burned along the walls, evenly spaced to illuminate the entire area.  Scriptures and verse had been inscribed on the wall, interspersed with holy glyphs.  Along the far wall, directly opposite the entrance was the source of all the strife above.  The statue was almost six feet in length and at least four feet high, carved from a thick, translucent crystal.  The bottom half was smooth and square but the top had been chiseled away, forming a crude semblance of a baby orc.  It's mouth was open in a scream of pain or rage, tiny hands balled into fists.  The carving didn't rest upon the surface, but seemed to be emerging from it.  The whole thing was made more disturbing for its sheer size.

“Ah, the room is awash with magic,” Khalid said, dragging his fingers across his eyes and peering around.  “But just the glyphs.  Not the rock.”  He moved to examine the carving more closely.  Folding his hands within the sleeves of his robes, he leaned over and studied the statue, careful not to touch it with any part of his body.

“If you lot dragged me down here inta this death trap to die over a piece of stinkin' rock,” Azarek growled.  “You'd better hope we wind up on different levels 'a hell.”

A drop of something wet and warm splashed on the back of Khalid's neck and rolled down his throat.  Reflexively, he wiped at it with his hand.  Pulling it away, he frowned and then glanced up at the ceiling, eyes widening.  “Ah, your sacrifice will not be in vain, I think,” Khalid said.  The others followed his gaze and looked up.  Blood was beginning to ooze through the ceiling, running in rivulets to pool suspended above the statue.  As they watched, a single drop congealed and fell.  

Straight into the whelp's open mouth.


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## TaranTheWanderer

bump.  Anyone else?


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## The Axe

TaranTheWanderer said:


> bump.  Anyone else?




Yep!


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## RedTonic

I'm here! Patiently awaiting the next sweet installment.


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## wolff96

Yup.  Bumpity-Thump.


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## iamarobot

I just started reading and am really enjoying it.  Thanks!


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## Neurotic

Update please?


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## Neurotic

And again!


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## TaranTheWanderer

I got word that EN is slowly plugging away at the next update, but I have yet to get anything to proof-read.  Darned RL stuff always getting in the way!

In the mean-time, I can field any questions about the campaign if anyone has any.  Maybe it'll movtivate him


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## Neurotic

You mean he's reeaaalllly slllooooowwwlllyyyy goooiiinnng att iiiiit


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## Neurotic

Two weeks and more again, so ...... BUMP! ......


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## EternalNewbie

Another drop fell.

“That can't be good,” Gorak growled.  “We'd better put a stop to that right quick.  

“Anybody got a bucket?” Shayla asked with a grim smile.

“I don't think it's going to be that simple,” Geoff replied, an inscrutable look on his face.  Cupping his hand, he held it out and caught the next drop.  Despite his clenched fingers, the drop squeezed through and followed the other into the statue's mouth.  Several more followed, each finding its way to the same place, while the pool overhead continued to grow.

“Well, somebody better figure something out,” Shayla muttered.  “Because I'm guessing that the real fun is going to start when that thing gets full up.”  

It was hardly noticeable but the falling blood was starting to gather within, turning the crystal a pale pink.   Khalid didn't need a divination to tell him that they were in the presence of powerful magic.  He could feel it all around them, like the dull throb of a rotting tooth, writhing its way into this thoughts.  The others were clearly just as affected.

“As scary as that hunk of stone is,” Azarek rasped, “in about a minute, we're going to have more immediate concerns.”  To prove his point, a dull thud echoed down the hall followed quickly by a second and third, spurring them into action.  Gorak began to chant, his skin becoming thick and rough, while Shayla pulled out a scroll and spoke the triggering word, surrounding herself with glowing bands of armour.  Khalid hesitated for a minute before moving up beside Azarek.  Pulling out a small diamond from his belt, he knelt down and crushed it with the hilt of his dagger.  Chanting, he gathered up the dust in his hand, and exhaling with the final word of the spell, blew it over Azarek.  The diamond swirled around him briefly, coating his flesh.  His craggy features seemed to harden, becoming even more angular and pronounced.

Khalid held up his hand and interrupted the question.  “A spell similar to that of Gorak's, only your skin will be as hard as diamond.

Azarek ran his hand across the edge of his bastard sword, eliciting nothing more than a gravelly screech. “Nice,” he growled.

“Indeed,” Khalid said.  “But remember it is only your skin that has hardened.  The shock of a powerful blow may still pass through your body and bruise the organs within.”  Rejoining the others, he took up his spot along the back wall.  On his left was Shayla, almost in the corner.  To his right were the rangers, Geoff and another ranger, a young man, barely old enough to shave, stood behind the alter, with the other further down along the wall.  Geoff, unlike the other two, didn't have his bow out, and was simply standing, staring at the ceiling, his eyes focused on the falling blood.

Azarek stepped up to the door, angled slightly off to the side so as not to be directly in the line of fire.  Crouching slightly behind his shield, he let the tip of his sword rest on the stone.  Gorak moved over to the wall in the middle of the room behind him.

A few seconds later they heard the crash of shattered stone falling down the stairs, and Orc voices flooded the hall.  Azarek shifted his weight onto his back foot, and raised his sword.  The room shuddered with a mechanical grinding sound, causing the older ranger to grin wickedly.  “That oughta slow em down a bit.”  The Orcish war cries became screams of agony and surprise.

An orc entered from the tunnel, charging forward at a dead run, a wicked iron axe held high over his head.  Before he could strike, Azarek stepped forward with his shield, stopping him in his tracks with a bone jarring impact.  Lashing out with his blade, he hacked a deep wound into the Orcs arm, trying to drive him backwards and block the doorway.  The orc, shaking off the wound, held his ground, allowing another to force his way into the room.

Gorak's thick growl drowned out Shayla's melodious voice as they both began to cast.  The older ranger drew back his bowstring and fired, but fear of hitting Azarek caused him to miss wide.  Khalid held back, waiting for a better opportunity to unleash his depleted arsenal of spells and was dismayed to see that the younger ranger was frozen in place, cowering in fear in the face of the growing onslaught.  More concerning was Geoff, who still had not drawn a weapon.  He stood transfixed by the thickening stream of blood, a pensive, almost serene expression on his face.

Shayla completed her spell, flicking a handful of magical darts at the wounded orc.  Jerking backward under the impact, the orc collapsed as the last dart pierced his eye, killing him instantly.  Her attack barely bought Azarek enough time to turn his attention to the other orc when the fallen one was replaced by another howling warrior.  Trying to stem the tide, Gorak finished chanting, conjuring up a globe of pure flame and rolling it into the passageway.

A shouted command from down the hall caused the two Orcs battling Azarek to shift their positions, fanning out on either side of him as they battered at him with their weapons, somewhat ineffectually thanks to Khalid's magic.

From his vantage point almost directly opposite the tunnel, Khalid saw the next threat emerge into the ruddy glow of Gorak's spell.  The Orc's face, painted bone white, was streaked with blood.  He was almost naked, save for a thick leather harness festooned with daggers that crisscrossed his chest.  In each hand was a long serrated knife, the teeth thick with gore.  Sprinting down the hall, he  leapt head first over the flaming barrier.  He hit the ground in a roll, tumbling under Azarek's slash and, barely breaking stride, he was back on his feet, charging forward at a dead run.

Realizing somewhat belatedly that his choice of position left much to be desired, Khalid backpedalled, shrieking out the words to a spell.  His timing was perfect.   The Orc, only a few feet away, took the full force of his spell directly in the face.  The explosion of colours that erupted from his hands overwhelmed the Orc, rendering him senseless.  With vacant eyes, the orc stumbled past Khalid, smashing face first into the wall.  Staggering backwards, his nose shattered, the blades tumbled from his hands and clattered to the ground.

“Geoff, help me!” Khalid pleaded, trying to jar him loose from the catatonic fascination that held him motionless.  For all its theatrics, the spell he cast was a minor one and had bought him a few seconds reprieve at best. When the confusion passed, Khalid had no doubt who would bear the brunt of his rage.  But even his peril wasn't enough to rouse Geoff.  The older range however, heard the cry and tossed aside his bow, pushing past Geoff.  Unsheathing a pair of short swords as he moved, he drove both blades up to their hilt in the stunned Orc's stomach.

More Orcs pushed their way into the room, ignoring the burns they suffered jumping over Gorak's spell.  The unfortunate one closest to Shayla barely saw the inside of the room before she cut him down with a flurry of razor sharp discs of pure force.  Gorak broke into another chant finishing with a snap of his fingers that caused his right hand to burst into flame.  Drawing back, he pitched a burning missile at one of the Orcs, wounding him badly.  Azarek continued his relentless onslaught, abandoning his defence to Khalid's magic and slashing wildly at his opponents.

Thinking to buy them a brief reprieve from the pressing horde, Khalid began to cast, angling a tiny golden spark past Azarek and down the length of the passage.  The spell detonated with a silent  flash, briefly chasing away the darkness.  Howls of rage echoed through the chamber, indicating that more than a few succumbed to the blinding effects of his magic.  Despite his success the sheer number of glowing, dust covered Orcs that jammed the tunnel did little to improve his morale.  Seeing no immediate opportunity to help, Khalid took a step towards Geoff to grab and shake  sense into him, when he nodded once, and looked around, seeming to see the battle for the first time.  “I understand,” in response to an unheard question.  Then, he began to sing.

It seemed ludicrous under the circumstances but Geoff's voice, a deep rolling baritone at odds with his rough and craggy appearance, filled the room, drowning out the sounds of battle.  The words of his song evoked images of cool glades and running streams; rustling branches and shining meadows.  A tiny pinprick of golden light materialized in front of him, above the statue.  He raised his hands up slowly, in time with the rising swell of his voice and the light expanded, forming a glittering bowl that captured the stream of falling blood.  Extending his hands above his head, Geoff turned his face up towards the ceiling.  The bowl continued to grow, flooding the room with a glow akin to sunlight and forming a  barrier that covered the entire ceiling, trapping the blood and preventing it from reaching the statue.

Khalid felt his spirit soar and for the first time, began to believe they might yet survive the ordeal.  The Orcs, shaken by a ritual more powerful than their own, quailed beneath the light.  Azarek seized the advantage and bashed aside his opponent's feeble defence, nearly decapitating him with a brutal slash.  Gorak and Shayla continued their furious attack, driving the Orcs back into the mouth of the tunnel.

The painted orc beside him, shocked free of the magical confusion by the agony of his wounds, pulled a knife from the bandolier on his chest.  Even mortally wounded, he struggled with the ranger, managing to stab him in the neck with his blade.  The ranger jerked back, pulling his swords free, causing the orc to groan and sink to his knees.  He lashed out again, but the orc managed to feebly parry his blows, taking another wound but denying the killing blow.

Blinded Orcs, staggering over the flaming orb, stumbled into the room only to be cut down in the crossfire from Shayla and Gorak.  Azarek kept his opponents at bay but was unable to score a telling blow, while the Orcs in turn were frustrated by his heavy plate and hardened skin.  The ranger at his right continued to struggle with the orc, taking another wound to the thigh, before running the edge of his blade across his throat, leaving him to die gasping in a pool of blood.  Abandoning his bow, he moved up to support Azarek and prevent the Orcs from surrounding him.

Still seeing no need to intervene, Khalid watched Azarek and the ranger systematically demolish the lead orc; one of them would faint to draw his defence while the other stepped in to strike.  A flicker of motion caught the corner of his eye.  The young ranger, obviously heartened by Geoff's singing, was finally joining the battle.  Khalid turned to extoll him into action as the look of fear melted away, replaced with a vicious sneer.  

But he wasn't looking at the Orcs, Khalid realized in horror.

He was looking at Geoff.

“NO” Khalid screamed as the young man lunged forward, burying his dagger to the hilt in Geoff's armpit, just above his armour.  Geoff sagged forward, slumping over the statue.  The traitor pulled out his knife and readied for another strike.

_AZAREK! Help Geoff!_

At Khalid's mental shout, Azarek spun around on his heel, taking a blow to the back of the head that without his magical protection would have broken his neck.  Instantly recognizing the danger, he charged across the room.  Diving over the statue, he tackled the ranger and  dragged him to the ground before he could strike again.  Gorak, flicking another flaming missile down the hall, looked over his shoulder and, seeing Geoff fall, started towards him.

Pushing himself upright, Geoff struggled to continue his hymn, managing a few more words before he took a breath and began to choke on blood from a punctured lung.  Gasping, he fell forward again, his lifeblood washing over the stone orc and flowing into its mouth.

And then, the light went out.


----------



## The Axe

EN, your writing was pretty good already at the beginning of the story hour, but I think it's clear you're really improving!


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## Lwaxy

Just finished reading all of it. Can't wait to see how the story continues.


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## Neurotic

Monthly bump!


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## Lwaxy

First bump of the year.


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## Neurotic

bump!!!


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## EternalNewbie

The Axe said:


> EN, your writing was pretty good already at the beginning of the story hour, but I think it's clear you're really improving!




I suspect that it's more that the story itself has become more interesting, rather than any improvement on my part (there's only so many ways to describe casting sleep...) but thanks.

And thanks for all of the bumps during the long delays between posts - I've cracked the page on the next update at least and have it mostly mapped out. I just need to sit down and finish it.  Maybe throwing that out there will motivate me to get it done...


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## Lwaxy

Let's poke this thread carefully


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## Lwaxy

Bumping this carefully on the head again


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## Neurotic

No more careful poking.

** POKE!! **


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## Lwaxy

*gets out the hot poker*


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## TaranTheWanderer

So, tax season is almost done...probably time to finish that update????


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## Neurotic

I give up. Give me a nudge when you decide to update.

Thanks


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## EternalNewbie

Gorak sprinted to Geoff's side, roaring out the words to one of his most potent restorative spells.  Grabbing Geoff and hauling him to his feet, he shouted, “ Keep singing!  Keep the ritual going!”

“I can't,” Geoff replied, his voice trembling and hoarse.  Despite Gorak's aid, his face was chalk white from loss of blood and his hands trembled with exhaustion.  He struggled to stay standing.

“Gorak!” Shayla shrieked between spells, giving him a second's warning before a charging Orc split open his skull with an axe.  Spinning on his heel, Gorak gripped his staff in both hands, raising it over his head and catching the blow with the haft.  Stepping forward, he used his massive strength to drive the attacker away from Geoff.

Without Azarek at his side, the ranger at the door was hard pressed.  Lacking heavy armour or a shield, his fluid defence was not enough to keep the Orcs at bay.  Inspired by Geoff's fall, they redoubled their efforts to gain control of the entrance but before the lead attackers could drive him back, Shayla came to his aid.  Drawing on her considerable reserve of power, twin jets of flame leapt from her fingertips, passing on either side of the ranger, incinerating the Orcs trying to flank him.

Khalid, seeing no way to help either Azarek or Gorak, both locked in close combat with their foes, cast another spell to temporarily blind the reinforcements crowding through the door.  Geoff, leaning heavily on the statue, seemed once again incapable of action, his expression one of pain and something else...almost rapturous. The flow of blood continued unabated and the statue was now more than two thirds full.  The distant look fading from his eyes, Geoff took a deep breath and heaved himself up onto the pedestal.  Turning over, cradled between the Orcs outstretched arms, he lay back, allowing the blood to wash over him, soaking his armour and streaming off his face.  Then he opened his mouth and began to swallow the blood pouring from the ceiling.

Khalid's revulsion quickly faded when he realized the effect Geoff was having.  The blood that coated him was pulled into the statue, but little more.  Eyes closed in concentration, his throat moved reflexively as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of blood.  Seizing on a glimmer of hope, Khalid realized his companions were too engaged to see what was happening, and sought to rally them.  _Geoff may yet thwart the ritual!  We must buy him more time!_

Gorak took a punishing blow, only partially borne by his magical protections before lashing out and driving the tip of his staff into the Orc's chest with bone crushing force, doubling him over in agony.  Before he stave in the Orc's head, the Orc stumbled backwards, slashing defensively to keep Gorak at bay.

Azarek, still wrestling with the ranger on the ground, was unable to turn the fight to his advantage.  His knife made useless by Azarek's hardened skin, the ranger dropped it and focused his efforts on squirming free. Heavy plate hampering his mobility, Azarek managed to use his weight to keep the ranger down but  struggled to do any meaningful damage.

The blinded Orcs stumbling through the entrance bought a few seconds reprieve before Gorak's flaming barrier vanished.  Shayla, ignoring the front ranks, concentrated on thinning the ranks behind, casting a handful of magical darts down the passage.  The older ranger, the sole bulwark against the pressing horde, fought valiantly to keep the Orcs away from her.  

Between Gorak and Shayla, the air in the tiny room was thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh, making Khalid's eyes water and his throat burn.  Almost depleted of offensive magics, he kept a close eye on Geoff and the pool of blood on the ceiling.  To his overwhelming dismay, it seemed virtually undiminished.  A blinded Orc, stumbling over the body of one his kin brushed against another similarly impaired Orc.  For a few moments, chaos reigned as the two Orcs swung wildly imperilling everyone around them, including the Orcs trying to enter the room.

Gorak, still trading blows with the axe wielding Orc, roared in pain as the Orc recovered his balance and attacked.  Holding the staff in both hands, he countered with a feint and then delivered a powerful strike to the neck, shattering the Orc's jaw and crushing his throat.  The Orc dropped to his knees, axe falling from his hands as he clutched at his neck and gasped for breath that wouldn't come.  Gorak followed through, swinging his staff over his head and bringing it down with all his considerable strength, breaking the Orc's collar bone.  Stepping back from the mortally wounded Orc, he clutched at the ragged wound in his stomach and began to summon the power to restore himself.

A strangled cough pulled Khalid's attention from the battle and back to Geoff.  His stomach was grossly distended, straining the buckles on his armour and his face was chalk white, streaked with the blood he was unable to choke down.  Moving quickly to his side, Khalid pulled out his knife and cut free the binding straps.  Geoff was beginning to struggle, unable to keep pace with the flow of blood any longer.  Khalid, seeing no other way to intervene, reached out with his thoughts, placing the words directly Geoff's mind.

_You are not alone.  Your friends still stand at your side and hold the room._

“Azarek!” Shayla screamed.  Risking a glance over, Azarek immediately caught her meaning.  Relinquishing his dominant position he rolled over onto his back, dragging the ranger with him.  Wedging a knee into the man's chest, Azarek propelled him upwards and held him at arms length as Shayla completed her spell.  The first jet of flame raked across his body, searing away his leather armour and flesh, exposing the muscle beneath.  Before he could scream, a second jet took him full in the face, blasting off his helmet and setting his hair alight.  Oblivious to the flames, Azarek heaved the dieing man away, sending him crashing into the wall beside.

The older ranger, now bearing half a dozen wounds, struggled to catch his breath.  Seeing an opportunity, he gathered himself up and lunged at a blinded Orc stabbing him in the stomach.  Fatigued from wounds and battle, he couldn't recover fast enough to avoid the Orc's unexpected counter.  Instead of recoiling from the blow, the Orc dropped his weapon and seized hold of his arm, pulling him off balance.  Another Orc stepped around his wounded kin and hacked off the ranger's arm at the elbow.  Stunned by the grievous injury, he was slow the react as the Orc swung again.  The axe sheared through the ranger's leather armour and sank into his chest, felling him instantly.

Azarek struggled to his feet beneath the weight of his armour, trying to collect his sword and shield to seal the breech left by their fallen companion, but he was slow to recover.  Gorak made a move towards the ranger, but more Orcs poured out of the passage, barring his way.    For a moment, they held defensive positions around the door, while another Orc stepped through behind.  The twisted scars of flesh seemed to writhe beneath the flickering torchlight, as he surveyed the room and those that stood to oppose him.  “Dogs,” he cursed.  “Rasha'guar will feast upon your hearts this night.”  In his hand, a gnarled club, blackened and twisted, seemed to seethe with a malevolence all its own.  

Shayla, never one to be intimidated by a few words, framed her response in the form of a blast of flame that burned away the fur pelts draped over the Orc's body and heated the links of the chain shirt beneath until they glowed red.  Along his arms and neck, the skin began to blacken and blister under the assault.

Khalid, almost drained of spells, saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. As the last syllable of the arcane words passed from his lips, the ground beneath the Orc's feet burned away with a flash of purple flame.  

What happened next was the stuff of nightmares.  

Dead bodies were hurled around the room, landing in grotesque heaps as a forest of squirming tentacles erupted from the ground. The Orc advancing on Gorak lunged forward, only to be snagged around the neck by a whipcord thin tentacle, and hauled backwards.  Before he could catch his balance, he was dragged closer to another, and then was swarmed by a half dozen other appendages of varying thickness.  He shrieked as he was slowly pulled apart, limb by limb.  The Orc that had killed the ranger was encircled by a tentacle thicker than Gorak's leg, pulsing with dark blotches of muscle.  He had no breath to scream after the first, as he was slowly crushed to death.  The blind Orc beside him was seized and flung upwards against the ceiling with such force that it drove the top of his helm down level with his shoulders, killing him instantly.  

The scarred Orc, surrounded by his dieing marauders, struggled forward with inhuman determination.  Tearing his hand free from of the grasping tentacles, He began to chant, his guttural voice rising above the screams of the injured.  “You are nothing before the might of Rasha'gaur,” he screamed, eyes bulging, consumed with religious fervour.  Burned skin began to flake away, revealing greyish scabs beneath.   Raging forward, bloody froth staining his lips, another tentacle snared him before he could pull entirely free.  Twisting to face Gorak, he beckoned, “Join me brother! The hour of glory is upon us!  It is not to late to take your place at his side.”

 “Brother,” Gorak spat, his lip curling into a sneer. “If you wanna be in the arms of your false god that bad, all you had to do, was ASK!” he roared.  Raising his hands above his head, he curled them info fist, and jerked them down  The temperature in the room became explosively hot, as the ceiling above the Orc seemed to tear away, replaced by a gaping rent of billowing flame.  An instant later, a column of elemental flame poured from the rent, incinerating everything beneath.   For a moment, Khalid could see the shadowy form of the Orc writhing in the flames, before the light and heat forced him to look away.  When the flare subsided, little remained of the Orc was a  charred lump of flesh, streaked with molten steel, slowly being torn apart by the curiously unharmed tentacles.

Billowing smoke filled the small room, sending Khalid down to his knees in search of breathable air.  Glancing up, through the haze, he could see the edges of the pool of blood on the ceiling pulling towards the centre.  He could barely contain his elation.  The ritual was drawing to a close and he began to hope he might yet live this terrible ordeal.  Geoff, still draped across the statue, continued to drink, his stomach now grossly distended, continuing to swell, ripping apart his armour.  Hands curled into claws, his body seemed to tremble and twitch, trying to escape the punishment his resolve forced upon it.  But for all his strength, Khalid could see him begin to fail.  His eyes flashed open, bugling from his head, and blood began to stream down the sides of his face as he gasped for air.  Losing his struggle, he vomited up a mouthful of blood and began to choke.

Looking at the statue, Khalid began to panic as the blood began to fill it once again.  The whelp was almost full and the ceiling was still coated with blood.  Afforded a brief respite by the waving tentacles Khalid wracked his mind for a solution.  Seizing hold of one last desperate thought, he concentrated for a second, recalling to mind the words of Geoff's hymn and shifting his focus to include his allies in the room.  _Sing_ he commanded.  _With whatever breath you can spare_.  With his long years of training juggling several magic formula in his mind at once, Khalid kept the lyrics and rhythm of song flowing out to his friends.  Gorak and Azarek  raised their voices, more chanting than signing, as Shayla's clear tone rose above them both.  The effect on Geoff was immediate.  His body relaxed and he stopped struggling as the familiar words renewed his faith and strengthened his will.  Moments later, the pool shrank to the size of a dinner plate and then it was gone, the final stream of blood splashing down on Geoff.  

Shayla carefully pulled the downed ranger back, away from the grasping tentacles and checked for any sign of life.  Catching her look, Gorak didn't bother moving, turning his magic inward to bind up his own wounds.  Azarek gathered up his weapons and moved as close to the door as he dared, pausing briefly to stomp on the throat of a dieing Orc.  Feeling the threads of magic holding the portal open begin to fade, Khalid could see figures moving in the darkness behind the receding mass of appendages.  Forcing his troubled mind through the meagre catalogue of spells remaining to him, he grimly pulled out a wand from his belt, and stepped behind the alter.  Inspired by Geoff's selfless sacrifice, he steeled himself for the end, and prepared to sell his life dearly, in the company of the only friends he ever had.


----------



## EternalNewbie

As the last of the tentacles withdrew, Azarek gathered himself up for a charge, sword held back over his shoulder.  He took a half dozen steps forward as a figure emerged from the tunnel.  Seeing Azarek bearing down on him, the man yelled, “Hold! Hold! Allies!” and tried to duck Azarek.  Pulling his blow at the last second, the blade whistled past his head while Azarek staggered past, carried forward by the moment and crashing into the ranger coming behind.

“'Bout damn time,” Gorak growled as more rangers crowded into the room.  “I'm up to my arse in roast Orc down here.  Word was quickly passed back along the tunnel, and the press near the door subsided.  A few men entered the room, helping Azarek to lift the unconscious Geoff from atop the the altar.  Khalid fought down his desperate need to leave the suffocating room that had almost been his tomb, to allow Geoff to be carried out.  Moving to follow, he caught sight of Gorak through the haze, kneeling down near the remains of the Orcish priest.  He brushed aside the pile of ash and charred bone, uncovering the twisted black staff.  Before Khalid could say anything, he reached down and picked it up.  A shudder rippled over his body and his eyes widened, then he shook his head and grinned slightly. 

Khalid, a worried frown on his face glanced about to see if anyone else had noticed.  Somewhat unsettled by the sight of the powerful weapon, he reached out to Gorak.  _It would perhaps be best, if you do not emerge carrying that.   The villagers are already on edge and to see it in the hands of an Orc...._  He left the rest of the thought unfinished.

Gorak scowled at him, then nodded grudging and dropped it into the magical haversack.  Khalid breathed a sigh of relief, the hurried to follow the others out of the room.  From down the hallway on the right, a thick stream of green Orcish blood flowed past their feet.  The dim light made worse by the smoke in the air, Khalid kept his hand on Shayla's shoulder.  Following the others, Khalid stumbled over an Orc with his leg torn off, the lower half caught in a wickedly concealed trap and the rest of his body a trampled mess from the crush of the frenzied mob.  Peering around his friends, Khalid could see the stairs, packed full of dead bodies.  Orcs fleeing the room had encountered those fleeing from above, resulting in terrible carnage when the rangers attacked from the rear.   Azarek shifted his grip on Geoff, hooking him under the arms and walking backwards up the stairs.  Shayla, seemingly in no rush, waited for him to turn the corner, finally allowing Khalid out of the tunnel.  Blinking in the light, strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled up the last few steps.

Two men were carefully shoring up the the sagging roof with a large beam.  Through the shattered remains of the door, he could see Gorak standing the square, talking to Erik.  “...the attack in the South was a feint.  As soon as they realized that, they started shifting back north, and we linked up with them two streets over, by the forge.  We'd bled them for every inch of the square and counterattacked as soon as we had the strength.  We drove a wedge through their reinforcements coming in from the North,  by that time, mostly cripples and cowards straggling in.  We turned 'em back into the alleys and ground the rest up against the cabin.  They were so eager to get the relic, they were jammed up tight, with barely enough room to swing a weapon.”

“You cut it pretty close,” Gorak growled.  “Another minute and we were broke.”

“I can't imagine,” Erik replied.  “What you did for us...”

“Most of it was yer man Geoff.  Without him, it all woulda went for shyte.  Khalid will fill you in.  I'm gonna go check on the worst of the wounded.  Might be I can do one or two of 'em a good turn.”  He turned and walked after the two men who'd taken Geoff from him, toward the barracks.”

Khalid took a moment to process the terrible cost of the battle.  Heaped around him were the bodies of dead and dying Orcs.  Those that hadn't been killed outright were shown no mercy.  Groups of young  boys moved among them with drawn swords, aiding them on their way.  Women searched the faces of the dead, calling for stretcher bearers for wounded men, some dropping to their knees in grief at the discovery of a loved one.  Wails of sorrow mixed with laughter and sobs of relief, as people began to emerge from hiding.  Behind him, two men were shoring up the sagging corner of the building with timbers pulled from the shattered defences.

Turning his attention to Erik, Khalid related the events of the battle with flawless accuracy.  His grim satisfaction turned to reverent awe as Khalid described Geoff's heroic actions.  Several other rangers had gathered around, after overhearing the conversation.  After he finished, he could hear the whispers swirling through the dark, filtering throughout  the village.  Reluctant to be badgered into empty speculation about something he was wholly unprepared to discuss, before any of the villagers around him could speak, he asked Erik,“Is there, ah, someplace, perhaps that I could take my rest?”

Azarek at his side, he followed a villager through the darkening streets to a small, unassuming cabin.  Having lost track of Shayla in all of the chaos, he instructed the villager to find both her and Gorak and tell them where to find him.  Opening the door, he found a tidy and serviceable room.  Although it was adequately furnished, Khalid knew that there was only one place he would find an untroubled night's sleep, and opened a portal.  Shaking with exhaustion, he dragged himself through the opening and collapsed on the ground.  He was vaguely aware of Azarek joining him, before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke several hours later and grabbed a few biscuits from the magical haversack, to sate a raging hunger.  Not anticipating any further trouble in the village, he decided to let Azarek sleep and dropped out of the shelter.  Pausing briefly to mutter a few words and strip the soil and sweat of combat from his body, he set out in search of Gorak or Shayla, neither of whom had apparently sought him out during the night.  Stepping out into the sunlight, he judged it around noon the following day.  Not really knowing where else to look for his companions, he headed back to the main square.

The industrious villagers wasted no time in erasing the scars of battle.  The square was bustling with activity.  He needn't have worried about food, as several tables had been set up, laden with food for the taking.  Men worked, shoring up building and hauling away bodies.  Those of friends and family were covered in makeshift shrouds and carted away to the cemetery; those of the enemy hurled on a raging fire.  He caught sight of Erik across the square, talking to Gorak and Shayla, and about a half dozen men wearing armour and heavily armed.  Approaching the group, Khalid was surprised to see that some of them were young men who he was sure weren't dressed that way two days ago.

“...to the East, follow the creek bed and check that camp over at Heron's pond.  Circle back along the ridge if you don't find anything and head back here.”  The men dispersed, gathering up rations and supplies.

“Ah, you're going out there?” Khalid asked, somewhat surprised.

“We slaughtered them.  Less than one in ten are left I wager and the worst hit were the fanatics from the forest tribes.  We've counted their dead, and I think we might have wiped two clans out, to a man.  The stragglers will be from the hills or the plains and they don't know this forest like we do. We've got a real chance to end the Orcish threat in these woods for generations to come.  And I mean to take it.”

Gorak nodded in agreement.  “Good luck with that.  I'm going to need a few more days with the wounded.  Still a few that are touch and go here.”

“Ah, how's Geoff?”  Khalid asked.

“Better,” Gorak grunted.  “Or at least smaller.  I figure that's gotta be a good thing.  He hasn't woke up yet and that's probably for the best.”

They spent the next few days recuperating in the village.  On the third day, it was clear that both Shayla and Azarek were bored, and not likely to become better company because of it.  Having recovered physically, if not entirely emotionally, from the battle, Khalid sought out Gorak to discuss their next move.  He found him among the wounded, most of whom were well on their way to recovery thanks to his extraordinary skills.  There was no question that the casualties would have been significantly higher, if not for his help and all thoughts of distrust had long since vanished from the village.  Seeing him approach, Gorak grunted a greeting.

“How fare the wounded?” Khalid asked.

“Well enough,” Gorak rumbled.  “Their healers can manage from here.”

“Ah, and Geoff?”

Gorak sighed.  “Nothing physically wrong with him.  The lights is on, but ain't nobody home.  Nothing more I can do for him now.”

“Ah, yes, well, then as much as I do not wish to venture out into the wilderness again, it is perhaps time to resume our trek home.”

“Ya,” Gorak grunted.  “This place ain't gonna be safe forever.  Best not to get too comfy.”

The chatted for a few minutes longer, before Khalid took his leave.  Turning over an idea in his mind, he sought out Azarek and bid him follow as he returned to the rangers barracks.  Walking to the back of the long room filled with cots, he opened the door to room where Geoff lay.  Approaching quietly, he knelt down at the side of his bed and studied him carefully.  He had to agree with Gorak; there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with him.  A fresh, pink scar was visible below his right arm, where he had been stabbed, but his stomach had returned to his normal size.  His face was peaceful, and his breathing deep and even.  He looked like nothing more than a man in a deep sleep.

“Ah, I'm going to attempt something and I do not know what the results may be,” Khalid said quietly.  “Stand guard, and watch.  It is likely that nothing will come of this.”

Placing his hand gently on Geoff's forehead, he closed his eyes.  Reciting a mantra to clear the mind, he slowly shut off his senses, one by one, and extended his consciousness.  _Geoff.  Can you hear me?  It's Khalid.  Receiving no hint of awareness, he tried again.  The battle has been won.  You're safe and the village has been saved._

It was the smell that reached him first.  Thick, and loamy; the forest just after the rains. He opened his eyes to see trees all around.  Birds and other animals chattered and conversed, filling the air.  Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, illuminating the hollows and casting dim shadows all around.  A flicker of motion caught his eye and again he reached out.  “Geoff!”   The shocking harshness of his voice shattered the harmony, causing birds all around him to take flight.  Khalid was no fool; he had long ago developed the confidence to trust his instincts.  This was no dream.  

The thought gave him little comfort.

_He cannot not hear you_, replied a voice carried on the wind.  Or perhaps the voice was the wind, rustling the trees.  Khalid couldn't tell.

“Who are you?” Khalid asked, searching the trees.  Again the briefest glimpse of a form, walking alone along the treeline.  

_You know who I am._  He did.  He relaxed only a little, still a little wary at how easily he had been overwhelmed and inherently cautious around a being of such incredible power; power that other men might call a goddess.  “Is Geoff okay?” he asked.

_He is safe._

“When will he return?”

_He is not ready.  His body is healed but his spirit is damaged.  In time, he will be whole again and he will rejoin his brethren._

Satisfied.  Khalid quickly considered his next question.  Talking to a being of such power was an opportunity he did not intend to waste.  “What is...”

The pain was unbelievable.  A thousand stars burst before his eyes and he felt an extreme sense of vertigo, like he was falling without end.  Grasping at his head, it was all he could do to retain his sanity as his reality changed in a split second.  Reeling in confusion, he struggled to raise his defences before the next onslaught, but the words wouldn't come.  Only in the presence of a devil had Khalid felt as helpless as he did now.


----------



## pogre

Good stuff! Hard to believe this thread is almost nine years old!


----------



## EternalNewbie

pogre said:


> Good stuff! Hard to believe this thread is almost nine years old!




Seriously.  Looking back at some old comments I made, I peg this part somewhere around the summer of 2005.

We actually played a session not too long ago which was awesome...playing that is, not the session itself.   That was disasterous.  Of course, in Galeman's game, if there isn't plenty of disaster and tragedy, we don't really feel like we've accomplished anything.


----------



## EternalNewbie

Struggling to regain his senses through a fog of pain, Khalid's first thought was that he'd been attacked by Vestalt's minions.  Trying to scramble away from the pointed horns with that filled his vision, he flopped about like a landed fish, until slowly his vision cleared, and Azarek's face coalesced in front of him.   Blinking in confusion, he asked, “Ah, what happened?”

“You asked me to keep an eye out for anything funny,” Azarek rasped.  “You went stone still for about half an hour, then started mumbling and drooling all over yerself.  So I woke you up.”

“By bashing me with your shield?”  Khalid moaned, rubbing his jaw.

“Hah,” Azarek barked. “That weren't nothing.  Shaking ya didn't work, so I gave ya a little nudge is all.”

Annoyed as he was, Khalid couldn't really find fault with him.  Brushing away Azarek's outstretched hand, he stood up and closed his eyes, trying to re-establish the connection.    Ilsadora?  Geoff?  But this time there was no response, save for a faint whiff of pine that could have been no more than a memory.  With a sigh, Khalid and went to find Gorak and Shayla.  Holed up within the privacy of the magical shelter, they discussed it late into the evening.  Khalid repeated the details several times, and, painful as it was for her, Shayla recounted her experience, at least as much as she could recall, in the hopes they could find some common thread.  In the end, it came down to a single question.

“Are you sure?” Gorak growled, for the tenth time.

Khalid sighed.  “Ah, it seemed as real as this does now.  I could feel the warmth, yes, warmth of the sun upon my face and smell the pine upon the breeze.  And I do not doubt the power of the being.  Yes quite.”

“But was it Ilsadora?” Shayla pressed.

“Ah, I can only guess.  Our...exchange...was cut short.”

“When you got clobbered,” Gorak grunted, scowling at Azarek.

Azarek shrugged off the comment. “He asked for it.  Don't blame me jus cuz I enjoyed it a little.”

Ignoring that, Shayla asked, “Do we tell Erik?”

“Ah, I see no reason not to.  Let them do what they will with the information, yes, quite.  There can be no denying the presence of a higher power within the vault, and his sacrifice has already renewed their faith.  The most obvious explanation is likely the correct one in this situation,” Khalid replied.  “It's the implications, yes, implications, that concern me.”

“A'right,” Gorak grunted, cutting the conversation short.  “Then I think we're just about done here.  Probably best we head out in the morning.”  No one disagreed, and they retired for the night.

Having done little but study the last few days, being awoken on Gorak's schedule was more than a little grating.  Slowly Khalid collected his things and exited the portal, joining the others in the small house that had been given over for their use.  The main square was a flurry of activity, with Erik at its centre.  Dozens of people, rangers and villagers alike, crowded around him while he calmly organized everything from the provisioning of the town to the daily patrols.  When he caught sight of them at the edge of the crowd, he extracted himself from the townsfolk and joined them.  Seeing that they were carrying all of their gear, he said, “You're welcome to stay as long as you like, but I'm guessing folks like you have more important places to be.”

“Home,” Gorak grunted.  “And we got a mountain range and half a desert to go yet.  Best we get started.”

“I understand.  Just know that nothing we can do will ever repay what you have given us.”

“Ah, there's something else you should know,” Khalid interrupted.  He quickly covered the details of his experience.  “I do not pretend, yes, pretend to know what it means but we thought you should know.  Yes, quite.”

To his surprise, Erik reached out and clasped his arm.  “I can't begin to thank you enough, for everything you've done, especially how we, how I, treated you before.  I won't ignore the lesson in humility, Ilsadora has seen fit to teach me.”

Gorak grunted.  “You had your reasons and we had ours.  Worked out well enough for both of us I figure.”  His scowl deepened.   “But you know, Orcs maybe the least of yer problems.  The Dwerro ain't gonna be busy down south for ever.”

Erik nodded.  “We'll send out scouts.  We'll have some warning at least.”

“Warning won't be enough to save you from the Dwerro army,” Shayla replied.

“No,” Erik agreed.  “It won't.  But if they come this far north, they'll find nothing but a few crumbling old buildings in a clearing in the trees.  Once we drive the Orcs out and control the forest, there won't be an army in the world big enough to flush us out.”

“That's a hard life fer village folk,” Azarek rasped.  “You sure yer ready fer it?”

“Those Orcs chipped a little bark off, but it’ll only grow back thicker.  We've deep roots in this forest.  With the goddess watching over us, we will come to thrive beneath the leaves.”  The tone in his voice edged upon zeal.  

“Ah, she may not yet be able to intervene in mortal realm again,” Khalid cautioned.  “She said nothing...”

Erik smiled.  “Maybe.  But her courage is our courage in these dark times.  Perhaps witnessing our small triumph will lend her some small amount of hope, in return for the faith she has given us.”  
Khalid couldn't help but notice while objects of worship for Ilsadora were there to see before, now every building sported dedication to the Goddess.  True faith might be enough shelter from the privations to come, he thought to himself.  They parted ways with Erik shortly thereafter, and after checking in on Geoff one final time, they rode out of town.  Once again, like Knolton, Khalid found himself the centre of far more attention than he felt he deserved, as townsfolk came out to bid them safe journey.

* * * * * * * * *​
Two days into the journey, and Khalid was already missing the casual indolence of the last days in the village.   Recent events had done little to quell his disquiet with the trees, and the prospect of running into fleeing Orcs was all too real.  Being mounted and on the road, they gambled that they'd be able to overrun or escape any of the scattered bands foolish enough to cause trouble.  But it was more than just physical discomfort that soured his mood.  Once clear of the village, Gorak had pulled out the twisted staff, and carried it at his side.  Khalid had long since learned to trust his instincts, especially the paranoid ones.  The presence of the staff made him decidedly uncomfortable and not only because of its association with the basement.  He caught Shayla's eye and motioned at the staff with a nod of his head.  She leaned back in her saddle and shrugged, but Khalid caught her watching Gorak more and more often as they left the trees behind, and rode out onto the plain.

A few days later, Khalid's suspicions grew to the point where he could not help but voice them.  _Gorak_, he began, with a glance over to Shayla.  _We need to discuss the staff_.

“What about it?” Gorak grumbled.

_We need to give it proper study, it could be unpredictable or dangerous._

“Relax,” Gorak grunted.  “It's just a weapon.”

_I should think it’s more than just a weapon.  In any event we should discern exactly what it is capable of._

“I think I got a pretty good handle on it,” Gorak grumbled.  “It ain't nothing to worry about.”

The last thing Khalid did when somebody told him to stop worrying, was stop worrying.   “Ah, Gorak,” he said.  “If you know something...yes quite.”

“Well it obviously does that thing that sucks all the water outta the air.” Gorak growled.

“Are you certain?  Is, yes, is that all it does?” Khalid pressed.  “How can you be sure?”

Realizing that he couldn't continue to be evasive, Gorak relented.  “It told me.”

“Told you?” Shayla asked, in that deadly calm voice that usually meant somebody was about to get seriously hurt.

“Yeah,” Gorak rumbled.  “It told me.  It's a weapon alrigh'.  Damned powerful and conscious of it.

Khalid switched again, directing his thoughts only to the three of them.  G_orak, such things do not...think...the way we do.  They are often times infused with singular purpose that they will carry out to the exclusion of all else.  The most powerful can overwhelm a man's mind._

“It tried that.  Din't work.  It knows who’s boss.”

_What does it want?  You perhaps received some glimpse of its purpose?_

“Well,” Gorak grumbled, starting to look a little defensive.  “Maybe something.  I got the feeling that it don't like cities and civilized folk much.  That’s why it got on so well with them Orcs.”

“Great.  It's capable of widespread carnage, and it hates cities.”   Shayla muttered.  “What if it went off in Gem-Sharad?  How many people would it kill?”

“It can't do that,” Gorak growled.  “It can't activate isself.  It needs somebody to use it. And besides, that ain't nothing new.  You can't tell me there weren't nothing that dangerous floating around Gem-Sharad before?

_Unquestionably.  But the institutions that held those forces in check have been swept away.  And new powers rush to fill the void.  Thus far, we have managed to claw and scratch our way to near the front of the pack, through a combination of ill luck, suffering and a measure of bravado that is rarely substantiated by our actions.  I certainly see the allure.  But in the wrong hands...we bested it once, sacrificing half a town to do it.  In that was in the hands of one ignorant, albeit charismatic, forest Orc.
_
“It's gonna take more than a shrivelled up stick…” he paused and glared at Khalid, “or a shiny egg to order me around.  Ain't I proved that already?  

_We can't afford to underestimate it.  It will be relentless.  Its very identity is tied to its purpose.  It will wait until you're wounded, or confused, to strike again.  Perhaps it will remain docile for a time, until you come to depend on it, and when you need it this most, it will demand your surrender.  If you refuse, it matters not, for the next to retrieve it may not be that strong.
_
“One of these times, we're gonna run into something that don't poison or burn too well,” Gorak replied, “and this thing'll help.  If I can control it, we're a force to be reckoned with.  The shyte that's dogging us, maybe for once, we got the edge.”

_Perhaps.  But given our recent success, it's equally likely that we'll end up putting a powerful artifact into the hands of Vestalt, who will no doubt find a way to employ it.  It's my opinion that it's too dangerous to use, and too dangerous to carry with us.  It's best destroyed, but given our present situation, I think we have to settle for concealing it._

Azarek rolled his eyes.  “Ya don’t throw a sword away just cuz one end’s a little pointy.  If you ain’t gonna risk getting cut, you ain’t never gonna win the fight.”

“I’m with Khalid on this one,” Shayla said, cutting him off.  “It’s too dangerous.  We’re not going to let it do what it wants, and worse, we took it away from somebody that would have.  It’s going to turn on us.  It’s just a matter of time.”

Gorak absently tossed the staff to the ground.  “I think yer wrong,” Gorak growled.  “But I can’t have you doubting me all the time, or we’ll end up dead fer sure.   We’re in this now.  Only way we live to see another day, is if we trust each other.”

Khalid half expected to be smote by some unseen power, but the staff just lay there.  Gorak shrugged.  “I just figured maybe I shouldn’t be holding it, if I was gonna say that.”

“Who’s going to pick it up?” Shayla asked.  “We can’t just leave it there.”

“Relax,” Gorak rumbled, riding over to one of the stunted pines that still dotted the increasingly bleak landscape.  Muttering a few words, he plunged his hand through the bark.  The tree sagged a little as he pulled out a smooth pine box.   Gorak grunted at Azarek, who slid off his horse and helped him manoeuver the awkward branch into the box.  Repeating the incantation, Gorak ran his hand along the side and sealed the staff within.  “That’s the best I can do for now.  We find us a good sized chunk of rock, and I’ll bury it.”

Khalid, lacking a better suggestion, nodded, and they resumed their journey.  Just before noon the following day, Gorak returned from scouting ahead.  Shifting back into his natural form, he growled, “I think I found some place that’ll work.”  He led them away from the thin rutted path they were following through the gently rolling terrain to a thin stream.  As they followed its banks it gradually widened until it merged with another and became almost a proper river.   A few miles further on, the gentle murmur of the water grew louder as it tumbled down a waterfall to a murky pool below.  They picked their way down the rocky incline to the base of the falls.   Unstrapping the box from the back of his horse, Gorak placed his hand on the rock and uttered the words to a spell.  At his touch, the rock rippled and flowed away, forming a small opening, just large enough to accommodate the staff.  Sliding it into place, he repeated the words and dragged his hand across the stone, leaving no trace of his work.

Breathing a sigh of relief that the staff hadn’t managed to strike them dead, a flicker of motion caught his eye as he was about to speak.  Swooping down from overhead was a giant owl, larger even then the eagle they had faced many months ago in the desert.  Gorak, absorbed with the task at hand, was similarly caught unaware as the bird settled at the rocks on the top of the falls.

In a manner all too familiar, the bird began to writhe and shift, wings melting into arms, talons drawing back into booted feet.   The steel grey feathers became a long coil of grey hair.  Only her eyes remained the same.  The cold, calculating menace of a predator.  The woman, never taking her eyes from them, tilted back her head in a decidedly wolflike manner and sampled the air.

“You stink of blight,” she declared, her lips curling slightly.  “Who are you?” she demanded.  “And what are you doing here?”


----------



## KerlanRayne

it's alive! IT'S ALIVE!

Still here. Is this game still running or are you just writing it up after the fact? What levels are they at this point in the story, and what levels are they right now, or whenever it ended?


----------



## EternalNewbie

KerlanRayne said:


> it's alive! IT'S ALIVE!
> 
> Still here. Is this game still running or are you just writing it up after the fact? What levels are they at this point in the story, and what levels are they right now, or whenever it ended?




Heh, I'm amazed that anybody read this thing in the first place, much less is still following it after all this time.  The game hasn't ended, but it's pretty much dormant at this point.  We all live in different cities now, and while there was some brief hope Galeman would move back to this side of the country at least, for now it doesn't look like we'll be playing again regularly anytime soon.  When I first started writing this up, it was mostly for the character points.  Now I'm just trying to get it down so we don't forget everything that happened on the rare occasions that we do get together.  I have high hopes, that if nothing else, we'll all be gathering around the table in the retirement home to wrap it up...That being said, I've probably covered about 2/3rd of the story so far.  

After the Orc attack in the forest, Khalid and Gorak just hit 8th level (I know because I bust out some new spells in the next fight), Shayla is level 7 and Azarek is 6 I think (I never should have made him a Tiefling, I think he's actually only a 5th level Fighter here)...heh I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I know exactly what level my wizard was in 2005.  That says...something...about me, probably nothing good...

Last game we played, I think we hit 11th, or just a bit shy.


----------



## EternalNewbie

CHAPTER 8: A MOUNTAIN CALLED MARTOK

Khalid, still weary from the battle in the village and fretting over the fate of the staff, was in a rare mood.  “Ah, our business here is none of your concern,” he snapped.  “And you’re no bed of roses from the downwind side either I suspect.  Yes, quite.”  He glanced at Gorak for support, but his expression was inscrutable.  Shayla was watching him as well, her eyes flickering between him and the woman standing above them. Azarek rested a hand on his sword, but the woman remained still, neither moving to attack or relenting, she studied each of them in turn before fixing her gaze on Gorak.  Receiving no signs of encouragement, Khalid lost some of his fleeting bravado.  “Ah, and who are you, to accost us on our journey?”  Again, there was no response.   Khalid, never one to look for a fight, was beginning to find the silence almost unbearable.  Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, there was a subtle shift in Gorak’s posture.

“Name’s Gorak.  That’s Khalid and Shayla,” he growled.  “We ain’t gonna trouble you none.  We’re just passing through.”

“I am Olyna,” the woman replied, her tone cool, but no longer threatening.  “Leave you shall, but first, I would know what you have brought into my realm.”

Khalid chewed on his lip.  _What do we do?_ he asked the others, silently.

Gorak shrugged, “You didn’t want it with us, and we gotta be moving on.”

Tired and frustrated, Khalid relented. _Very well._

“It’s a staff,” Gorak grunted. “Orc weapon.”

“Why bring it here?”

“It’s evil, and powerful.  We won’t use it, and it don’t like that.  Where we’re going, it’s just gonna be a lodestone around our neck, until somebody takes it away from us.  It’s best buried and forgotten.”

“And you decided to bring it here,” Olyna replied.

“Here is the middle of nowhere,” Shayla pointed out.  “Seemed as good a place as any.”

Olyna appeared to consider that.  After an almost uncomfortably long look at Gorak, she spoke.  “It may well be.  I will agree to let you leave it here.”

Khalid, somewhat concerned by the sudden change of heart, asked, “Ah, yes, but how do we know that you won’t try to use it.  Yes, quite.”

“I have no desire to be either slave or master.  I have encountered that thing before and I am not ignorant to its purpose.  It defiles all around it.  It will stay buried here until the stone crumbles into dust.”

Khalid considered himself a pretty good judge of character, but he nevertheless turned to Gorak for reassurance.  His casual shrug provided little.  With a sigh, Khalid stuffed his concerns down deep.  Like it or not, they had bigger problems, and the weapon was a distraction they could ill afford.  As they turned away, the druid shifted her form and took flight.  She followed them for a brief distance, before climbing high out of view.

“What was all that about,” Azarek rasped.

“Khalid ain’t the only one that can get his point across with his mouth shut,” Gorak grunted.  “I trust her enough.  Let’s leave it at that.”

A hundred miles later, Martok was a gray smudge on the horizon, and before long, came to dominate the skyline ahead.  The sense of vague unease he’d felt upon first seeing the mountain returned, honed to a jagged point like the mountain ahead.   “Ah, are we still committed to this plan?  Our reception, yes, reception at the village was less than welcoming last time.  Yes, quite.  Perhaps we would be better to turn south and skirt the mountain all together.”

“That means we took a long, long walk with nothing to show for it,” Shayla pointed out.  “Well, not exactly nothing,” she added, with a toss of her jet black hair. The sarcasm was more than a hint.

“We got information,” Gorak growled.  “That’s more than we had before.  That devil took the Dwerro for a reason and heading back West, we’re gonna walk right back into that shyte storm.  I’d like to see if maybe we could at least find an umbrella.”

Khalid had been trying to put that thought out of his mind, with only marginal success.  He couldn’t argue with either of them, but he didn’t have to like it.  Shifting in his saddle, he settled into a good worry, as the miles rolled by under the hooves of their summoned mounts.  Without having to care for the horses, they rode hard as always, eating in the saddle and stopping only to sleep.  A few days later, Gorak returned from one of his patrols, and shifted in front of them.  “Welcoming party is out in full force,” he grunted.

“Don’t suppose they looked happy to see us?” Azarek rasped.

“Hard ta tell.” Gorak grumbled. “Khalid, magick me up a horse.  No sense looking like we got something to hide.”

They eased up on their pace, turning slightly to meet the villagers head on.  For once, Azarek mostly behaved himself and left his weapons sheathed.  Before long they saw the warriors from the village, standing in a semi-circle as before. They reigned in a respectful distance away, and Khalid spoke, “Ah, we have no quarrel, yes, quarrel with you.”

He was only half as surprised when the old woman stepped from behind two men.  “So, you’re back.”

“Ah, and you speak the Western tongue,” Khalid replied, his eyes narrowing.

“The time fer playing games is long past, don’t you agree?”

“You were expecting us,” Shayla said, more a statement then question.

The old woman laughed, a wheezy, rasping sound.  “Oh, I just knew you were gonna find your way back here.  I been keeping an eye out on you folk.”  She tapped the center of her forehead, with a sly grin at Khalid.  “More and more, when people ask powerful questions, it is your name that comes back the answer.  A wise person might suggest you take better care to conceal your activities.  Or at least your involvement.”

Shayla rolled her eyes.  “Next one we meet, we’ll ask for her opinion.” The emphasis grated on Khalid.

“Hah,” the old woman barked, with a smirk.  “That fire in your belly might have been enough to stave off your enemies until now, but folks out there are starting to take notice.”

“Don’t we know it,” Gorak grunted.

“We know you were at the fall of Caer Morag and more.  And the winds bring whispers of a great slaughter in the forest to the south,” she continued, her eyes narrowing.  “In fact, it would seem you’ve left a trail of bodies in your path since you walked down from the mountains.”  Her smile was gone now, as she looked at each of them in turn, taking their measure.

“More than a few before that too,” Shayla muttered, her tone bordering on ominous.

“No doubt,” the old woman replied, her expression unreadable.  Then she spun on her heel and began heading toward the mountain and at brisk jog.  Khalid looked at Gorak and Shayla, his hopes rising that they could finally head back to the questionable safety of Gem-Sharad.  A moment later, the old woman dashed them.  “Well, come on then,” she called over her shoulder.  “We’ve got a lot to discuss and I’m in no mood to do it out here.”

The warriors spread out around them, not so close as to threaten, but there was no questioning the direction they were riding in.  Khalid didn’t get the sense they were in immediate danger but the old woman did nothing to alleviate his concern, proving as reticent as she was spry and running ahead of them in silence.  Hours of silence later, they arrived at the village.  Near the center of town, the old woman finally spoke.  “Well you ain’t gonna fit inside on top of them horses.”  With a jerk of her head, she motioned for them to follow as she parted the deer hides hanging over the door, and led them into the large yurt.

Several of the warriors remained near the door, but none of them followed her in.  Khalid blinked as he entered the gloomy interior, pausing for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust.  A small amount of light filtered in through the open hole in the center, above the fire pit.  The inside was surprisingly similar to the nomadic tents he’d had occasion to visit with Gorak while perusing for exotic herbs in the outskirts of Gem-Sharad.  Tapestries hung from the walls, and thick rugs covered the hard packed earth. A small wooden bookcase was packed with scrolls and papyrus, along with other artifacts whose purpose was not readily apparent.  The old woman motioned to a young girl kneeling near the door, and she quickly left the tent, returning with cool water and a platter of hard, foul smelling cheese. Figuring they wouldn’t bother feeding him if they meant to kill him, Khalid relaxed slightly and took a slab of cheese.  The overpowering aroma made his eyes water, but where free food was concerned, he rarely let taste interfere.  The settled down on their knees near the middle, while the old woman settled into a low chair along the wall.

“So you’re a lot friendlier this go round,” Gorak growled with his usual tact.  “What changed?”

“A great deal,” the old woman replied, leaning forward in her chair. “We appreciate what you’ve done for us.  That harvest you raised when you left will last us two seasons at least, and we may yet get another planting in.  And Caer Morag has fallen.  But you knew that. You were there.”

Khalid saw no reason to deny it.  “Ah, a most tragic situation.  The city sacked, the tower destroyed, yes, destroyed.”

That seemed to surprise the woman.  “Nargammon destroyed the tower?  I’d never had guessed he’d have the power do it.  That tower has stood for centuries.  The Dwerro will not be pleased.  What else do you know of the South.”

Khalid, using his talent, kept up a ready stream of dialogue with Shayla and Gorak as he carefully crafted their story, touching only the larger picture without delving too deeply into their activities.  It was clear the old woman had some knowledge of their travels, but even Khalid’s relative skill at judging people left him unsure of how much the old woman really knew.  “And, of course, as you have heard, there was a battle in the southern forest, yes, quite.  There was a great gathering of Orc clans from the mountains and the hills around, but the villagers laid waste to their horde.  We were unfortunately, yes, unfortunately caught in the middle. The Dwerro will soon secure Caer Morag, and then press, yes, press north.  The rangers will make their lives miserable, yes, miserable, but there is nothing truly standing between them and Martok now.”

“We caught one,” Shayla added.  “A son of Martok.  And let me tell you, if the rest of them are like him, they’re gonna be showing up here real soon.”

“Perhaps. But there are few of them remaining,” the old woman replied dismissively.  “Why did you return here?”

"We didn’t find what we were looking for,” Gorak grumbled.  “So we still need to get into that mountain, and I think maybe you know something that’d help us.”

“I know a lot that would help you,” the old woman, said with a cackle that set the hairs on the back of Khalid’s neck up.   “But everything has a cost.”

“Well maybe your information is for sale, but I’ll give you this one for free,” Shayla said.    Khalid knew what was coming, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.  “No sooner than we grabbed that dark skinned Dwerro, a devil snatched him up.”

The old woman ceased chuckling.  “What did you say?” she demanded. All traces of mirth were gone from her voice.

“Ah, it was a succubus,” Khalid replied.  “A fell creature who’s only desire is to tempt,yes, tempt men to their doom.  It is likely that it was acting under anothers orders.”  It was as much of the truth as he was willing to admit.

“To what end?” the woman asked, the concern evident on her face.

“Dunno,” Gorak grunted.  “But maybe if we can get into that mountain, we can figure it out.”

The woman considered that for a moment.  “Leave me,” she said.  “I must speak with the elders.  Lodging will be prepared for you.”

Summarily dismissed, they followed one of the guards to another yurt, similar in appearance if somewhat less comfortably appointed.  The warrior remained just outside, making it clear they weren't permitted to wander.  With little else to do to pass the time, Khalid as he always did, turned to his studies.  New formula lay just within his grasp, and time to work on them had been short in the past few days.   Azarek, bored by inactivity, stretched out on one of the thick rugs. Titling his helmet over his eyes, he was soon fast asleep, rumbling snores soon drowning out the sound of Khalid's quill scratching across the parchment.  Gorak and Shayla sat in idle conversation, with Emma curled up on her lap.

The light creeping through the tent flap slowly dimmed as the minutes turned into hours.  With no summons from their host, they bedded down in the yurt for the evening.  Khalid felt somewhat exposed sleeping outside the confines of his magick but was conscious of offending the tribes folk by disappearing.  Setting a watch was also discussed, but ultimately they felt safe enough to rely on Emma and Sousee to alert them of trouble, and opted to take the opportunity for a decent night's rest.  Khalid couldn't deny the comfort of the thick rugs and pillows, and nervous as he was, fell fast asleep almost as soon as he lay down.

Gorak shook him awake, and for a few moments, Khalid wasn't sure if he'd slept for minutes or hours, as the sky was still dark outside. Making himself somewhat more presentable with a cantrip, he followed Shayla outside, where a faint smudge of gray on the Eastern horizon confirmed he had slept through the night, and dawn was approaching. Muttering under his breath about the uncivilized hour, he followed the tribesman back towards the old woman's hut.  When they arrived, their guide pulled back the flap, and waved them inside.  This time, she wasn't alone, flanked on either side by several of the other elders, and a younger man Khalid assumed was the leader of the warriors.  The old woman motioned for them to sit.  In what Khalid took to be an encouraging sign, an attendant offered them each a cup of sweet smelling tea, before backing out of the yurt.

The old woman stared intently at them for a moment, before speaking.  “We have decided to help you,” she said finally.  It was not the answer Khalid expected, and a flash of panic rolled through him at the prospect of once again clamoring into the bowels of the earth.  He pushed the thoughts deep down inside to deal with later, and tried to focus on the old woman.  “It's clear now, that you are no mere treasure hunters wandering blindly to your doom.  Fools instead, perhaps, but an abyssal presence on the loose, our goals align for the moment.

Gorak grunted at being called a fool, but waved for the old woman to continue, when she stopped and stared at him.

“We have a way to shield you from Martok's gaze, when you cross the boundary into his domain.  Once you ventured inside, you're on your own.”

“Ah, yes, quite interesting,” Khalid interjected.  “How does it work?”

“Long have we lived in the shadow of Martok,” she replied.  “In days past, the ritual was taught by the spirits of our ancestors that keep us safe.”

“And you're sure this works?” Shayla asked pointed.

The old woman smiled wryly.  “You're asking for a degree of certainty I can't give you, my dear.  It hasn't been attempted in centuries.  Our stories say it does.”

“Why not go yourself an' check it out,” Gorak grunted.

“Our presence this close to Martok is like a thorn in his paw.  It has festered over the years and we can feel his anger, even in slumber, growing.  The risk of disturbing him would be higher, if our own people were to try to breech the seal.”

“And this way, maybe it doesn't come straight back to you, if this ritual is nothing more than smoke in the pan.”  Shayla muttered.

The old woman smiled her gap tooth'd grin.  “So astute, for such a pretty young thing.” She seemed amused by Shayla's derision. “Nevertheless, this is all the aid we are able to provide.  It will take some days to prepare the ritual.  We will lead you to the base of Martok, and point you in the direction of an entrance we believe was less used.  Assuming you still wish to go?”

Gorak, without waiting for the others, grunted ascent.  “We spent half a year stomping around dodging Dwerro and almost getting killed.  Time we did what we came here to do.”

“Very well,” the old woman continued.  “But there is something we require to complete the ritual.”

“Here it comes,” muttered Shayla.

The old woman graciously ignored Shayla's comment and continued.  “The tooth of a dragonkin.” 

Khalid snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, well fortunately, we happen to have...” he started, then trailed off as Gorak scowled at him.

“I didn't take any of it's damn teeth, before we got chased off,” Gorak growled.  “Just the scales.”

“Yes, quite,” Khalid said somewhat dejectedly.  “Well, ah, at least we know where we can possible get some.”

“Uh, are you forgetting about that very large, very angry, talking dog that chased us off?” Shayla pointed out.  “Even if the corpse is still there, I doubt he's gonna let us pick over the carcass again.”

Khalid sighed, “Ah, well, yes, but what choice do we have?”

The old woman raised her hand to silence them.  “We know of another,” she said.  “But it will not be easy.”

“Never is,” Gorak grunted.

“There is a tribe of ogres in the foothills, that venerate one of the least of the dragonkin.  While a true dragon's tooth would be better, it should suffice for our purpose.  They will not sit by idly however. They consider the beast a totemic spirit of their tribe.”

“Ogres we've dealt with.  Describe this dragon thing.”  As he listed to the village hunters, Gorak nodded in understanding.  “Wyvern,” he grunted.  “Stupid and feral.  Not to dangerous if we can avoid the poison.  Probably hangs around the ogres for scraps of meat.”  He slapped his thigh, “Just his teeth?  Might not be much more than that left after we're through with him.”

“Just the teeth,” the old woman replied.

“Alright then,” he grunted.  “We'll be back in a few days.”

After a journey of several days toward the mountains, the found the ogre village nestled among the hills.  Gorak shifted form, and scouted it quickly from the air, coming up with a rough plan of attack.    Stout timber walls encircled a collection of a dozen wood beamed structures, housing a little over a dozen ogres.  Although there was a watchtower, it seemed mostly neglected and they suspected that the ogres relied on the wyvern to warn them of danger.  A small cave further up in the hills was likely the wyvern's den.  The plan decided, Gorak once again ranged ahead, scouting to see if the wyvern was out of its nest.  Finding nothing, he circled back, and they set they plan in motion.

The ogres were caught completely unaware as Shayla, Azarek and Khalid descended invisibly from the clouds.  The fight, if it could even be called that, was short, and brutal.  Shayla began by incinerating a group in the center of the village.  As their dying screams drew others out, Khalid went to work incapacitating them with toxic mist, followed by summoning a mass of tentacles as they creatures tried to flee for shelter.

Gorak landed on the wall, but before he could shift and cast a spell, he was forced to dodge aside as a boulder crashed into the wall at this feet.  Azarek, shield held in both hands, swooped down in front of Shayla and deflected a huge rock that would have crushed her had it landed.

Between the confusion sown by Khalid's magick, and the relentless destruction wrought by Shayla, the ogres were quickly overwhelmed.  As they had hoped, the sounds of battle drew the wyvern from it's nest.    With a shriek from it's serpentine maw, it took to the air, racing toward the village, the sun glinting off its bluish white scales.  But Khalid was prepared for this, and before it could close the distance on them, the air around it began to shimmer and thicken.  The creature struggled mightily but it was all it could do to stay aloft as it's muscles seemed to work against it, twitching and jerking as it hovered in the air.  It was an easy target for Gorak and Shayla, unable to even flee as the mental impediment Khalid placed upon its mind rendered practically immobile.

They flew over the smoking ruin of the village and landed beside the body of the wyvern.  With a few pokes from his staff, Gorak satisfied himself that the creature was dead, and started to work on removing its teeth, along with a few choice scales.

Tired, but unscathed, they set off back toward the village, where they handed over the teeth to the old woman.  

“Very well,” the old woman continued.  “we will begin the preparations. I suggest you do the same.”

With their limited resources left from months on the road, there was little for the group to do but wait, once they had restocked their rations from the villages stores.  Gorak inquired about watching the ritual, but was politely, but firmly refused, and chose not to push the matter.  At dawn, two days following, they were summoned again to the old woman's presence.

“It is done.” She motioned with her hand, and one of the other elders brought forth three clay jugs, slightly larger than their waterskins. “At the precise moment the sun dips below the horizon tomorrow evening, you must bath yourself in this, and then step through the portal.”

“Ah, precisely?” Khalid inquired.

“We must continue the ritual here, and try to pull Martok's slumbering consciousness to us, and away from you.  The timing is important,” she replied.  “Argan will lead you to the base of the mountain. Two days should be more than enough time for you to reach the gate. If you don't,” she shrugged, “the choice is yours if you wish to continue.  It may work, it may not.”

“There's a lot of mights and maybes in this plan,” Shayla muttered.

“Just like always,” Gorak grunted as he took a jug.

The old woman sighed, “I know the risk you take here and I wish you good fortune.  Events are rushing forward to a conclusion that none of us can foresee.  Martok is part of that.  Upon your return, we will discuss what you have found and hopefully all become a little wiser.”

With nothing left to say, they packed their gear on Khalid's summoned horses, and followed their guides out of the village.  The ride around the lake would have been almost idyllic, if it not for the looming presence of the great mountain hanging overhead.  Eventually their guides led them down to the shore, where several bound reed canoes lay hidden in the brush.

“We should camp here tonight.  You can cross over before dawn,” Argan said. In the fading light, he pointed out the start of the path. “It's treacherous to climb at night, but shouldn't take you more than a day to reach the hidden entrance.  And it is not the eyes of the living you need to avoid, so day or night, it makes no difference when you climb.”

They set up a meager camp, with no fire, and spent a fitful night at the mountain's base.  In the morning, the loaded up the canoe with their gear.  Gorak walked away into the bush a few steps and then, to Khalid's surprise, returned without Sousee.  Seeing his arched eyebrow, Gorak replied to the unspoken question.  “I don't think she's gonna be much help in a cave, and I don't want her stuck in some musty old tomb if something happens to us.  I set her free.”

“We'll keep a watch for a few days,” Argan said, by way of farewell.  “In case you need us when you exit.”  Gorak clasped his wrist in acknowledgment, and they pushed off onto the lake, as the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon.  Behind Gorak and Azarek's powerful strokes with the paddles, they crossed the lake in short order, hiding their canoe as best they could among the sparse vegetation at the base of the mountain.

Gorak picked out the start of the path, which, from far away looked nothing more than a natural crevice, but, much to Khalid's relief, hid a cunning carved staircase into the rock.  Even so, without handholds, parts of the climb were unnerving and dangerous.  Sweating under the weight of his gear, and the relentless sun, Khalid paused to mop the sweat off his face.  “Ah, how much further?” he asked, somewhat plaintively.

“Hard ta say,” Gorak grumbled, shielding his eyes with his, and leaning back dangerous to look up the mountain.  But we ain't there yet, and we're losing the light.  No time to rest now.”

They pushed on, as quickly as was safe.  Finally, as the sun was no more than a thumbnail of color on the western horizon, they came to a small sheltered alcove, with a landing barely big enough for the three of them.  Gorak spent several tortured moments searching for the hidden clasp, as the light slowly faded, before giving a satisfied grunt.  “There it is.”  Shifting what looked to be a natural stone in the wall slightly, a mechanical click sounded from behind the door, and the rock face swung inward.  Gorak peered at the horizon for a moment and held up his hand, as Khalid and Shayla dug the flasks out of their packs.  Holding it above their head, they waited for Gorak's signal.  When his arm dropped, they upended the contents over their heads.

For a brief moment, Khalid felt refreshed as the cool liquid washed over him.  In a second however, it all evaporated, leaving only a slightly oily sheen on his face and hands.

“Now or never,” Shayla muttered.

Khalid, struck by the possibility of losing that which he held most dear, hesitated for only a second as Gorak, followed by Shayla stepped through the doorway.  With a deep breath, he forced himself forward then closed his eyes and he crossed the threshold and waited.  A slight shudder passed through him, that could have been nothing more than his own nerves.   Listening briefly in the darkness, to see if they entrance had been detected, Gorak eventually motioned at Shayla, he enacted a quick cantrip and lit their way.  Khalid did the same, and breathed a sigh of relief as his magick still worked.  Following Gorak, with Shayla in the middle and Azarek taking up the rear, they made their way down through a roughly carved passage, barely widen enough for Gorak's shoulders.  After a few minutes of walking, they came to a broad landing, overlooking a large shaft in the mountain.

The landing and shaft walls were perfectly smooth and polished, much different from the walls of the tunnel.  The shaft extended up and down as far as their light permitted them to see.  Resting at the end of the landing was a huge iron cauldron, suspended by thick chains that vanished into the darkness above.  While Khalid and Shayla took up watch, Gorak and Azarek examined the mechanism in the cauldron.

“This lever,” Azarek rasped.  “Release.”

Gorak nodded.  “Brakes here, on the winch.  I think I see how this works.”

With little other alternative, they piled their gear carefully into the cauldron.  Chains attached to the lip kept it from tipping over and dropping their too their deaths, but getting in was unsettling nevertheless, as the cauldron shifted and swayed.   There was enough room for the four of them, but little more.  Gorak nodded at Azarek, who pulled the release.  “Down first,” Gorak grunted.  “Dwerro like living under the rock,” he added, by way of explanation.   Lacking a better reason, Khalid agreed.

The Dwerro engineering seemed unaffected by centuries of neglect, and the descent was smooth, with only a slightly rattling of the chain, that was far too loud for Khalid's comfort.  Still, after almost half an hour, they'd seen little signs of movement or any hint they'd been discovered.

“Maybe we should pick up the...” Gorak grumbled, when Azarek roared.  “Get down!”

The three of the dropped to the bottom of the cauldron as Azarek raised his shield just in time to take the brunt of a huge blow from above. Holding his shield in two hands, he struggled to keep it above them, as whatever was attacking them continued to rain down blows.   Through Azarek's frantic defense, Khalid could just barely making a figure clinging to the chains overhead.  It was emaciated and twisted, and seemed to be covered more with ridges of bone then skin. It's narrow face lacked a mouth, but it's blood red eyes burned in the darkness.  It was gripping the chains with trippled jointed feet, head pointed down toward them, as its enormous arms, tipped with razor sharp scythe's instead of hands, slashed at Azarek's shield.  A whip like tail swirled behind it, with a barbed tip that lashed down between the slashes, trying to slip past their defenses.  Ducking low again, as the creature lashed out, Khalid barely avoided losing his head, and the things wicked appendage sheared through the soft iron rim of the cauldron.

“Oh that's enough of that,” Shayla cursed.  And extended her hand past Azarek's shield as she chanted.   The creature above was engulfed in roaring flames as a ball of fire exploded directly only him.  To Khalid's immediate dismay, the thing seemed totally unhurt, as it scrambled back up the chains, that were now glowing red with heat.

“Ah, Shayla,” Khalid yelled.  “Fire cannot harm it, it's some sort of devil.”

“Well we need to do something,” Azarek roared.   “I can't hold it here forever.”  Gorak had strapped on his ironwood shield, and crouched above them beside Azarek, trying to provide more cover.  Khalid wracked his brain, trying to thing of a way to use any of his spells to drive the creature back, but his repertoire was uniquely unsuited for this position they were in.

“No fire eh?” Shayla muttered.  “Keep it busy for a minute, when it comes back.”  She closed her eyes and began to chant softly.

“What else am I gonna do,” Azarek rasped, drawing his sword as the creature reermged from the darkness.  Stabbing upward with his large blade was little more effective than Shayla's magick, but the creature seemed to enjoy toying with him, slashing back with its blades.

Khalid could feel Shayla drawing in her power, as she muttered under her breath for much longer this time.   Finally, after several agonizing seconds, her eyes flicked open, burning with rage.  “Give me a shot!” she screamed, raising her hands above her head.  Gorak and Azarek pulled their shields apart for a brief moment, giving her a clear line of sight to the creature.

This time, the explosion was soundless.  The devil was enveloped a huge greenish cloud, that sizzled and crackled as it settled on the red hot metal.  The creature above threw its head back in a silent scream, as its skin smoked and bony armor became pitted and cracked from the caustic mist.   Gorak and Azarek overlapped their shields again, turning aside the creatures final slash before it scurried back up the chain into the darkness.

“Did I get it?” Shayla asked.

“Ya sure did,” Azarek rasped, “Sent it running.”

The held their position for a few more moments, listening in the darkness.  The creature didn't reappear and Gorak and Azarek stood up, still holding their shields above the cauldron.  “Ah, do you think it's gone,” Khalid asked somewhat pointlessly.

A slight tremor shook the cauldron.  “It's still up there somewhere,” Gorak growled peering around the edge of his shield.  “I can almost make it out.”

“Ah, what's it doing?” Khalid asked.  A question that was answered an instant later, as the cauldron tilted dangerously to one side, sending them sprawling and almost dumping Azarek over the edge.  A length of chain, one of the four stabilizing the lift, hurtled past them into the darkness.

The cauldron shook again, and a shower of sparks fell on them from above.

Shayla turned to Khalid with a look of fear in her eyes, and cursed exactly the same thing he was thinking.

“Oh ****.”


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## Neurotic

Cliffhanger and then 6 months of nothing...


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