# Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos:  The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

This story is mainly told in journal format from the perspective of one of the PCs in my homebrew Kingdom of Turgos campaign. The narrative is occasionally punctuated by other letters or journals of NPCs and other PCs. Turgos is a kingdom in my campaign world, which uses some Sep-inspired concepts and constructs (particularly its religious concepts), while maintaining its own originality. The PCs started at 1st level. They are currently beyond epic. Evora Faro, the journal-writing pc, will provide the background on the characters within the context of the journal. I will drop footnotes from time to time to explain things in the story to give context that can be absent from a journal-based story. 

Feedback is, of course, appreciated. It gives us the drive to continue on. This is a collaborative effort between me (the DM) and one of my players (who plays the journal writing PC). So, sit back, relax and enjoy the tale!

P.S. This thread was reposted after the “big crash,” but without reader commentary.

P.S.S.  This campaign is taken from several adventures, morphing them into what I needed for the campaign.  It's great fun doing it this way, but some of the adventures have been so modified that they are not even recognizable.  Can anyone guess them all?

Chapter 30: 1430
Chapter 31: 1661
Chapter 32: 1910
Chapter 33: 2241
Chapter 34: 2363
Chapter 35: 2613
Chapter 36: 3805
Chapter Interlude: 3896


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## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Tales of Turgos:  Introduction*

As I am not by trade a scribe or poet, the reader shall please forgive the often less than graceful means by which I comment this tale to parchment in an effort to ensure my hopeful message shall not be lost in antiquity within a fortnight of the passing from my mortal coil. 

My name is Evora Faro and I am a priest of Canaan. Devout, loyal to His Word, but at odds with the inhuman machine which so cynically, fearfully, rigorously and imperiously controls chosen aspects of His Word in implacable and arrogantly feigned service to the masses of His good-willed, hungry and innocent faithful. They, the Curia, the elite, self proclaimed High Priests of Canaan are the true enemies of mankind. No demon lord, no warlock, no succubus, no ravenous, incensed dragon, can burn such a trail of destruction and desolation as that wretched, cloistered vestibule of corrupted vermin. As I write this I wrestle with the horrifying truth that I have become a hero to some, a role and title with which I am not at all comfortable, a beacon, perhaps, to many, and a pariah to those I once revered and trusted. I tremble at the knowledge that I am but a scant few incendiary sermons away from being labeled a heretic and hunted down for my crimes. Shall the eyes of the Curia ever fall on these pages, my fate shall be sealed. 

So be it. I am not a servant of Man. I have nothing to fear from Man. I am a servant of Canaan, the Father, Lord of Light, Master of Justice, Mercy and Forgiveness, and His estranged consort, Sankari, the Mother, Guardian of Life, Keeper of the Hearth, Mistress of the Seasons, the one known to her devotees as simply The Green. 

I write this over a rare interval of rest, such as it is. We are at sea, sequestered in a dank, unseemly merchant’s vessel sailing for yet another troubling destination. A bleak isle branded “Demon Claw.” My hands tremble from fear and the chill of the ocean wind that splits through the thin layer of water stained wood that surrounds me. A pitiful defense now that I think of it. A paltry wisp of a shield which keeps that throng of opaque, churning waters at bay. The weather has been most unkind to us for most of this scrap of our trek, but I trust in Canaan’s will and I do not fear. I endure, though my battered stomach bleats for solace. 

Where shall I begin? I have seen so much. Great heroism. Great foolishness. Great sacrifice. Death that comes of anger. Death that comes of selflessness. Rebirth and renewal. Miracles and wonders bestowed by both Canaan and The Green. Evil most foul and goodness most humbling. In the months I have traveled with this unorthodox congregation of fated brethren, my faith has, in turn, been shook, it has atrophied, it has strengthened and, finally, it has solidified. 

Turgos is changing and I find myself changing with it. I fear that those who condemn change as anathema are doomed. Thresholds of revelation that were once obscured by pride and fear of those who seek to control them, have been at long last revealed to me and those I call my friends. We have no choice. Our path is not one of victory, of glory and honor. It is a path of healing and we have long since past the point of no return. Our fates are sealed. Our journey has just begun.


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## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 1: Reunion (part 1)*

I will not lie that it first came as a great surprise to me that this disparate band of colleagues were all childhood friends. Before I joined their ranks and earned their trust, they had known each other for most of their lives. They had all grown up in the protective bosom of the agricultural barony of Goldfire Glen. Peaceful as any small town could be, well protected by Underhill Keep, with its high walls and humble assemblage of well-meaning, if not hearty, soldiers, unflappably loyal to their lord, the Baron Derren Underhill, Goldfire Glen had earned a solid reputation as prosperous and welcoming. Even the High Priest of Canaan, the rotund and sweet natured, Father Nimitz held views of heterodoxy that fit perfectly with the city’s diverse population of farmers and smiths. 

Devotees to Canaan and The Green lived in peace there. Respect between the two religions was unquestioned and unwavering. Alas, had such enlightened views survived on such a grand scale after the first wave of horrors befell Turgos. Fear is a mighty weapon. Fear of the unknown can carry a man to the bottommost pits of insanity, but fear of the known, of the other, of the different; it is not gold and jewels which bring the roots of all evil to simmer, it is this fear given face, given flesh and blood that can be smote with a righteous hammer that gives the purveyors of evil the most delight. How effortlessly we are all corrupted. 

But I digress. 

Lilian and Gabriel Evenshire were orphaned siblings raised by the Church of Canaan in Goldfire Glen. The fate of their parents was unresolved. They had vanished while on a mission of the Church in a far off place called Rappan’Athuk. (The elders never spoke of it directly. I had heard whispers of this dread place in my days at seminary. It is a stronghold of evil in Turgos, somewhere in, or beyond, The Wildlands.) Having no other family to claim them, the Church had little choice but to nurture the children themselves. 

Both had grown into healthy young adults. Both took to the artistry of combat. Lilian’s path balanced humble, divine supplication to Canaan’s Will with the skills of the blade and shield. She became a champion of Canaan and was well respected by both the Baron and the Church. Gabriel’s anger and impatience made him ill-suited for devotional work.  But he was strong of heart and muscle and became an adept brawler.

Four more friends rounded out this group. Jordan Gunderson, an erratic eccentric entranced by the arcane arts. Shale, a dedicated priest of the Green. Boots, a soldier, who had been kicked out of the baron’s brigade for reasons he refused to discuss, and finally Aesendel, a bartender who was also a talented sorcerer. It was at the Feisty Fox, a seedy tavern and inn that catered to all kinds of transients and vagabonds, where Aesendel worked and Gabriel called home. It was also at this watering hole where our story truly began. 

Days before, each of these cohorts received an unexpected invitation which read:

“My dear friends, please do me the honor of joining me one day hence at the Feisty Fox to celebrate my achievement of reaching the First Valence. Thank you. The Acolyte Hu-Li in Residence at the Tower of Balian, the Ever-Watchful.”

Each recipient, in turn, all agreed that it must be Jordan. He was always a bit off, and they all knew he had gone off several months prior to study with the elusive, enigmatic Arch Mage, despite several of their protests that doing so was a mistake. Balian lived a day’s journey from Goldfire Glen, within the foreboding walls perched upon an outcrop of granite, that was known far and wide as the Tower of Balian the Ever-Watchful. It’s façade was covered with ivy and surrounded by a decrepit stone curtain wall that Balian, more concerned with perusing dusty tomes than aesthetically pleasing landscaping, had never quite gotten around to repairing. It rose from the precipitous northern flank of the hill. It teetered improbably above a cliff, but has successfully withstood harsh assaults from both, the weather, and several years previously, a large gang of irate Hill Giants. As the story goes, Balian was so angered at being jostled from his studies by rocks pounding the outer walls of the curtain, that he stormed to a window and uttered a tremendous incantation turning all of the Hill Giants permanently into ducks. The ducks remained and populated the moat surrounding the wizard’s tower defecating with abandon on absolutely everything. Locals were often warned not to mention the ducks if ever in the wizard’s presence as it remains, for whatever reason, a troubling memory and is likely to put the prickly prestidigitator in a dangerous mood.

It was under tutelage of this volatile temperament that Jordan’s already fragile conscience was molded. I met this Balian, and fell under his spell for time. I still, though the thought of it sends icy shards dancing up and down my whole countenance, bear his mark. Perhaps the residents of where we are headed will have the means by which to extract this scar on my soul. 

Forgive me. Back to the story at hand.

Upon receiving the letter, the fair warrior maiden, Lilian, decided to procure a gift for her longtime friend. Unsure exactly what suited Jordan’s tastes, she ventured into the market district of Goldfire Glen and found herself in the cloud filled shop of Menion, The Herbalist. Entranced by the overwhelming collage of scents that filled the small store, Lilian fought the growing urge to breathe deeper and allow herself to be intoxicated by thick, dry mists. Menion greeted her with his usual preternatural serene demeanor. 

“How may I help you, great champion of Canaan.” He slowly breathed at her. Lilian was known in every corner of the town and she was used to being recognized, even when out of her armor. 

“I am looking for a gift.” She replied, trying hard not to take in too much of the sweet smelling air. “For Jordan… that is… the…” and she unfolded the note she had received to make sure she was correct. “The Acolyte Hu-Li.” 

“Jordan? He’s coming back?” Menion’s nearly closed eyes flickered for a moment at the sound of the name.

“Yes.” Answered Lilian. “He has reached some milestone in his studies and wishes to celebrate. I want to offer up some token of congratulations but I am a bit flummoxed as to…”

“Token?” Menion came around from behind his counter. “Token, you say?” His gait was relaxed, but something in his arms, some excited energy took hold and forced them to suddenly flit about like drunken gnats. He maneuvered through the tight maze of pillars that held the regions finest examples of dried herbs and seasonings and suddenly knelt down next to a shelf that held an impressive collection of glass vials. His trembling hands grasped one of the larger vials and, in an instant, his fingers relaxed. He turned to Lilian. “If you’re looking for a token for the likes of Jordan, you will not fail with this.” 

Lilian took care to mark the strangeness of the vial’s shape. The bottom was round, a perfect sphere from which grew two cylindrically shaped protrusions. One was very small, but an aperture on one side of the globe, while the second was wider, and cocked at a slight angle as it rose nearly a full foot and a half from the round base. 
“What is this?” Lilian innocently inquired.

“'Tis a device…” Menion looked around, making sure no one else was about, and lowered both his voice and his head. “… that in the hands of someone like Jordan, can, with but a small pool of water, some specially chosen dried herbs, and a wisp of a flame, open up visions of the distant past and the near future. Trust me. It’s precisely what Jordan needs.”

“Herbs?” asked Lilian, strangely intrigued “What sort of herbs?” 

“Let me show you.” 

As Menion bagged up the necessary herbs to be used in the divination device, he asked Lilian if she knew of his old friend Jazzad, a ranger who visits every year around this time. Lilian simply shook her head. “I’m afraid I do not.” 

Menion went on while carefully measuring the herbs. “He lives in the Wildlands and, well, he’s a few weeks late for his usual rendezvous with me and a few other friends and, quite frankly, I’m a bit worried about him. I even went to Captain Tiberon about this and he reminded me that it was against the law for anyone to be sent into the Wildlands, so it was forbidden for the city guards to assist in locating Jazzad.”

He tied the small bag and handed it over to Lilian and finished his story.

“But then with a wink an a nod, old Tiberon told me that there was nothing preventing a person from going out into the Wildlands on their own. But I’m just a simple herb peddler. I can’t go out there. That would be suicide!”

“Are you asking me to go look for your friend?” Lilian knew the question and the answer before Menion did. His face turned ashen and his heavy eyes blinked silently for a long moment.

“Oh, Miss. If you only would. You’re a champion of Canaan. You’re not officially connected with the Baron or the Duke of Auros. I know you still live in the Temple and that comes with some strings to be leery of, but I’m at a loss for what to do. Your brother Gabriel’s a tough bloke. I’m sure the two of you could…”

Lilian held up a hand. She offered Menion, whose face had dissolved into a pleading gape, a compassionate smile. “I have a party to go to.” She said at last. “I will be more than happy to ask my friends if they would be willing to help.” 

Moments later, Lilian left the shop with the glass vial, a small bag full of herbs, and a smile that did little to hide how giddy she felt at the choice of her gift. She wore a simple dark gray tunic and pants that scrunched up at the tops of her knee high leather laced boots. A long blade hung sheathed at her side. Her golden hair was wrapped in a tight braid that circled the back of her head like a halo. Her emerald eyes squinted as the sun hung low in the West, its sharp yellow rays bouncing off the cobblestones. 

She would have been loathe at the time to admit it, but the chance to leave Goldfire Glen on some adventure, albeit a small one, was also filling her with a sense of excitement. With a spring in her step, she skipped across the cobblestone streets making her way to the Feisty Fox. 

Save for Shale, they were all waiting for her when she arrived. Hu Li and Gabriel had already been drinking and were in the midst of a raging debate over the nature of life, the universe and every other fleeting, contentious whisper of an idea that floated up out of either of their mead-drowned mouths. 

* * *

Hu Li was a towering figure, standing nearly seven feet tall and draped in a bone white robe. His frame was frail, thin, like young branches on a sapling. His flesh was almost colorless, not quite white, more like the top layers of ash that remained after a fire consumes its wooden fuel. His dark, deep eyes were ringed with crimson as he leaned into Gabriel for the latest retort. 

Gabriel listened, but remained tense, ready for an equally violent reply when his friend had finally finished his rant. Like his sister, Gabriel’s hair was the color of the sun at its zenith. His blue eyes were fixed on Hu Li. His muscled arms and hands were clinched with frustration, his veins popping out like tributaries. 

Talon looked on stoically as the argument mounted, deflated, reheated and looped into a new topic. His large, calm brown eyes stared through the row. He was clothed in a simple, loose fitting brown robe and his feet were bare. 

Boots sat at the bar, clad in faded, patched up leather armor, a crossbow set on the stool to his left and a sword, wrapped in a torn sheath on the stool to the right. His eyes and knuckles clinched and whitened at the onslaught of rejoinders behind him. 

Aesendel, youthful, lean and normally effervescent, kept himself distracted by continuously cleaning and refilling Boot’s mug from behind the bar. Both of them had always loathed being privy to these pointless arguments before Jordan went off to Balian’s Tower and now dreaded their return. He and Boots shared several quick, voiceless, irritated glances. 

“Give it a rest, guys.” Aesendel finally said. “We get it. You’re both smart, you’re both passionate. You’re both deep thinkers. You’re both…” 

“Silence!” commanded Hu Li. 

Talon snorted, his mouth pulled back in a smirk. 

Gabriel pounced. “Your assertion, then is that because we have the power to do something, we not only have the right to do it, no matter how heinous others may think it to be, but we have the moral imperative to do...”

“You are not listening!” cursed Hu Li “Morals are irrelevant!” 

“But you’re wrong, Jordan…” 

“That’s the Acolyte Hu Li!” 

Lilian entered the Fiesty Fox to the sound of laughter. Everyone was shaking their heads and scoffing at the flustered young mage. He folded his arms and with a great pout, planted himself on a stool opposite Gabriel.

“I regret inviting any of you to my party.” He scowled. 

The laughter only grew. Jordan always had a thin skin and was quick to lose his temper, but in truth he relished any opportunity to give his friends a good dose of petulant silence. It was a test of wills and he always won. One of them, without fail, at some lusciously somber moment would allow their pride to fracture just enough to offer Jordan an apology. Through a perfectly executed grumble, he would humble himself enough to accept and then all would be well. 

“Hello, Jordan. Welcome back.” 

“That’s the Acolyte Hu…”

He had suddenly stood and turned to face the infidel, but stopped his torrent short when he saw, framed in the doorway, bathed in an aura of orange sunlight, was the stunningly fair Lilian, holding out her gifts for him. 

“Oh, my dear. I did not know it was you.” He managed to sputter. 

Everyone else let out muted groans. They all knew Jordan’s infatuation with Lilian. The matter of her being chaste, as was the custom of her order, only fueled his unseemly desires. She wisely maintained a suitable distance. 

Hu Li nabbed the gift with a mixture of sheepishness and aplomb and wasted no time in giving his puzzled friends a demonstration of the devices subtle magicks. 

After several minutes of fighting off the effects of an ever growing green cloud that being coughed up from the vial, Lilian told her story about Menion and the missing ranger, Jazzad. Bored with their provincial lives, it took very little convincing.

“A quest!” shouted Hu Li. “Master Balian will be so proud. Yes.”

* * *

The following cloudless morning, the band, loaded down with armor, weapons, and the usual assortment of traveling gear, left the comforts of Goldfire Glen behind them and headed into the Wildlands. 

Hu Li was uncharacteristically quiet. Talon asked him if there was anything bothering him. “Shale.” He said. “He wasn’t at my party.”

“Oh, yes.” Said Talon in a smooth, calm voice. “I failed to tell you. I received word from Master Baern, Shale’s mentor, that they were off to a remote village to assist in a birthing ritual.”

“Bah!” said Hu Li. “A birthing ritual? For that he misses my party? Detestable! The customs surrounding birth and death should be reversed. Birth should be mourned and death should be celebrated, for, at last, the soul is released from torment to be consumed by the Eyeless Hollow Ones! It is the fate of all. And a glorious fate it is! Yes!” 

For a long time after, no one spoke a word. Soon Hu Li was leading the rest of the party who had drifted further behind him. 

“I don’t like it.” Gabriel whispered to his sister. “He’s changed, and not for the better. That madman Balian is corrupting him, I know it.” 

“I agree.” Answered Lilian. “But there is little we can do about it at the moment.”

“He should have never been allowed to go to that accursed tower,” Gabriel added.

Boots and Asendel, having overheard the conversation closed in around Gabriel. 
“I agree.” Whispered Boots. Gabriel gave them both a sidelong glance. “He’s lost half his mind being exposed to those… unnatural arts.” 

“It’s not the arts we should be worried about.” Said Aesendel, a bit offended. “It’s the artist about whom we should be concerned, and... his particular vision.” 

“If we have to, I’m willing to…” started Boots. 

“No.” said Gabriel. “We can’t just kill him. He’s our friend. He’s not beyond redemption. His new found certainties mask a profound confusion. One thing is clear, we can’t allow him to go back to Balian alone.” 

* * *

Three days into their travels, they came upon a familiar site. The small acreage of their longtime friend Farmer Jed and his family. Under their simple thatched roof home, Jed’s sweet, ample wife Betsy, his two straw haired, browned eyed children, Jimmy and Carrie, entertained their guests with a silly ditty about their milk cow, Bessie. Betsy played on a slightly out of tune mandolin as Jimmy, a darling faun of only eight years, kept time by striking a wooden spoon against the bottom of a milk bucket and little Carrie, six and overflowing with innocence, sang:

_Bessie has a big wet nose
That once caught up a fly 
She sneezed and shook
Dipped it in a brook
But that fly just would not die

She mooed so loud so pa would hear
And he came runnin’ quick. 
He dug and dug
Said “Relax. I’ll tug.
This fly is mighty slick!”

Bessie tried to stand quite still
Despite the awful itches.
She gasped and wheezed
And finally sneezed
All over pa’s new britches

As Pa cleaned off his soiled pants
The fly, at last, flew off
“How will this look?
Me at this brook
Oh, how Betsy will scoff!” 

Quicker than a hunted fox
He ran back to the house
He changed his clothes
Picked a wild red rose
And placed it in a blouse.

When Ma came back into the house 
And smelled the rose’s scent
She hugged her Jed
“I love you.” She said
“You’re such the perfect gent!” _ 

After a lovely, soothing evening of the simple family’s hospitality, they spent a quiet, comfortable night, each slumbering in their own straw bed gathered in the farm’s only barn. At dawn, awoken by the shrill cries of one of the Jed’s roosters, they packed their gear and met Jed at the border of his home. Betsy had, the night before, packed a parcel full of cheese and jerky for each of them.

“Been having some troubles of my own.” He told them as they thanked him for the rations. “Sheep gone missing. Darndest thing. Not a trace of them. Could be bandits. Best be on the look out.” 

After another round of thanks, the group headed out. After a few hours, they finally came to the Granite Bridge which marked the official end of the Duchy of Auros and the beginning of the formidable Wildlands. The old bridge yawned over a dried out ravine. As the adventures passed, each flung a pinch of salt over their left shoulder, as was custom to the wise. 

An ancient tale told of a spirit that haunted the bridge and if an offering of salt was not given by anyone attempting to pass, the spirit would appear and eat the offender. No one dared to test the verity of the story. 

After a long, peaceful day of travel over gentle sloping hills awash with tall yellowish green grass, the sun sunk under the Westward horizon and night unfurled a sea of stars that surrounded a lonely moon which clung to the velvety blackness. 
Camp was set. Everyone soon fell into a deep sleep, though Gabriel kept a close eye on Jordan and refused to allow himself to sleep until the wizard was snoring. 
Lilian kept watch as the others slumbered. The half moon above glittered with the brilliance of newly minted breastplate. Save for the gentle, lulling chirps of countless, invisible crickets, all was quiet. 

Then, without much warning, Lillian spotted what she at first thought were fireflies, blinking between the thick, tall blades of grass. She grabbed her blade and gave a shout when she realized they were eyes. Several feral snorts emanated from the shadows. 

Everyone awoke and reached for their weapons. 

Hu Li began chanting. 

Aesendel took in an inhumanly deep breath. 

Moonlight reflected off gray spittle that sheathed jagged ivory tusks. Thick chunks of dirt kicked up around the perimeter of the camp as a sounder of wild boars hungrily charged.


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## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 1: Reunion (part 2)*

Lilian cut the air with her blade. Boots, Talon and Gabriel were on their feet. Boots brandished a sword of his own while Talon and Gabriel both balled their hands into white knuckled fists. 

In a flash, the ravenous boars closed in. One leapt at Lilian, but she was ready for it. Her blade expertly met the mangy-haired hide of the animal and cut deep. It let out a short squeal as its side opened up and its blood gushed freely. It slammed into Lilian, knocking her down. But it was dead.

Aesendel completed his abnormally deep breath, waiting a moment, then exhaled, hurling forth a massive stream of green acid that caught two of the boars in its path. So drowned were they by the toxic torrent, they simply bowled over silently as noxious fumes bellowed from their charred hides. The acid swiftly consumed their flesh. 

Never breaking his complex, indecipherable chant, The Acolyte Hu-Li moved behind the wall that Boots, Talon and Gabriel had unknowingly created. Gabriel, worried about his sister’s well being, plunged into the fray. Several boars had already surrounded Lilian, and as she struggled to get up, the animals head butted her and tried to tear through her chainmail shirt with their tusks. Gabriel sprung forward, entangling one of them in a head lock and pulling it away from his sister in a violent roll. 

Talon followed suit, performing the same maneuver with equally effective results. 

There was the dull sound of a bone crack where Gabriel struggled with his boar. It’s back legs let out a short spasm, then it died. 

Gabriel sprang up only to see a heap of boars where his sister once lay. She was buried under them. 

“Why are they all focused on her?” he cried to the night air. 

Boots rushed toward the writhing pile of boars and slashed at the hides of those on the edge, but a split second before he managed to scurry into range, his toes struck an errant log and he fell into dry dirt with a dull thud. His hand lost its grip on the sword. 

Three of the boars detached from the pile and pounced onto the fallen Boots. 

Hu-Li’s chant ended. There was a flash and a sudden zephyr of warm air that wafted over the chaos. A dog, wrapped in a silvery aura, shot from the ether and raced toward one of the boars smothering Lilian. It’s mouth was pulled back into a toothy sneer as it snapped and barked at the wild beast. The boar turned to meet the intruder only to have its throat caught in the celestial dog’s powerful jaws. Blood seeped out between the hound’s teeth as the boar’s life shook away. The dog wasted no time. It flung the carcass aside and lunged for the next one.

Boots let out a cry that was grotesquely cut short by the gurgling of his own blood as a boar sunk its tusks into the warrior’s throat. Two other boar tore through his flimsy leather armor and shredded the exposed flesh around his abdomen until it was lost under a thick sheet of pooling crimson. 

Aesendel sent a morning blue missile hurtling from his outstretched hand and it smashed into one of the boars that had been feasting on Boots. It was thrown back and hit the ground with an ugly crack, and moved no more. 

Talon flung the broken body of the boar he had been wrestling into the tall grass that surrounded him when three more of beasts suddenly leapt from the shadows and bowled him over. 

Gabriel let out a shout and hurtled himself toward his sister. He grabbed and yanked at the heavy boars, trying to get them off her. The glittering dog aided the frantic brawler by tearing chunks of flesh off any boar that got near either one of them. 

Aesendel spanned the field and quickly heard the scuffle with Talon and the three boars in the tall grass. 

Hu-Li began another chant. 

The sorcerer took in a deep breath as he raced for the spot where the tall grass swayed violently from the battle it masked. 

A boar’s head shot out from the grass, baring its tusks and barring Aesendel’s way. Out of panic and simply by reflex, he vomited out another horrid green stream. The boar’s face was instantly devoured by the acid. 

Behind Aesendel, Gabriel let out a howl of pain. The sorcerer turned and saw his childhood friend being knocked over by two of the boars. All the other beasts were dead. The dog and its reassuring glow, vanished, only to be replaced by a second, summoned by Hu Li’s mastery. 

The hound ripped into the flesh of the two remaining boars with abandon. 

Aesendel held up a hand and a white light flickered in his palm, then wrapped around the whole of his hand, covering it in an orb of bright light as the _light_ spell did its trick. He pushed his way into the tall grass, racing toward the sounds of Talon’s fight.

Hu-Li looked on at the carnage, swallowing down an urge to vomit. 

“This is most unpleasant.” He muttered. 

His second summoned dog dispatched the remaining boar with an efficient tear at the back of the animal’s neck, severing its spine and instantly killing it. It turned to the one who called it, wagged its tail, panted sweetly, its snout smothered in blood and gore, then vanished. 

Talon lay in the midst of the tall grass. His knees where knocked out from behind by a boar’s head. The suddenness of the unbalancing maneuver, as well as the shock of pain, sent the monk instantly to his knees where the same boar hit him again in the back, knocking him face forward onto the ground. Talon tried to roll over, but the beast was on his back. The other two were dead, battered by Talon’s fists and feet. 

He tried to wriggle out from under the beast, but it was no use. It was too big, too heavy and it had him pinned right below the shoulder blades. It butted the back of Talon’s head. The monk lost consciousness. 

The boar snorted once, dripping thick globules of gray spittle all over Talon’s back. It opened it maw, ready to scoop out a chunk of flesh with its powerful tusks, when the grass crunched nearby. It looked up and saw nothing else but pure, blinding radiance as the _light_ spell surrounding Aesendel's hand, engulfing the Boar's vision.

Aesendel pushed his glowing hand into the beast’s face. It reeled back, snorted and squealed with shock, leapt off the prone Talon and clumsily scurried away. It was some time before its angry screams faded off entirely. 

* * * 

Aesendel dragged Talon’s unconscious body back to the camp where he found Hu Li had pulled Lilian and Gabriel’s bodies together, so the siblings lay side by side. He had covered Boot’s corpse in his own blanket. 

Upon seeing what remained of Boots, Aesendel let go of Talon and hurried over to the blood stained blanket. He knelt to his knees and sobbed. 

Behind him Hu Li rolled his eyes, but out of custom allowed the sorcerer a moment to grieve. 

“He’s not the one you need to be worrying about.” The wizard finally said. “He’s gone. Lilian, Gabriel and Talon all hang to life by a weakening strand, and if we do not make haste, the Eyeless Hollow Ones will consume them as well.” 

“You sicken me, Jordan.” Aesendel coldly stated. 

Hu Li opened his mouth, ready to correct the boy as to his name, but given the circumstances thought better of it.

“I shall hurry back to the Farmer Jed’s and procure from him a horse and cart. When I return we shall bury our dear friend Boots and carry those three back to the man’s provincial cottage where they can recover in some semblance of comfort. We should never have come out here. This was a mistake. I was wrong. Balian will not be pleased with this foolishness. Look after them. I will return by this time tomorrow.” 

And with that Hu Li hurried off, leaving Aesendel alone. The sorcerer looked up at the half moon. He hummed to himself and uttered a strange ode:

_Look after us
Oh, my fathers
Have pity on us
Oh, my mothers
Void of wing
Void of scale
Void of claw
Void of breath
We beseech, thee
Most ancient
Most powerful
Look after us
Your children lost. _ 
For the remainder of the night, and the next day, Aesendel quietly watched over his friends. All was peaceful until the last, thin beam of orange sunlight flickered away and the stars popped out of the black dome that loomed over the camp. 

Aesendel stood, hungry after forgoing any sustenance, too mournful to pay any attention to the churning in his empty stomach, and moved over to his backpack and bent down beside it. He reached in a dug out a sliver of jerky. When he stood back up to take a bite, his eyes met those of the wild boar he had blinded the night previous.

Red rings still wreathed the beady eyes of the animal, and they narrowed at the site of its prey. Aesendel threw the treat he held into the tall grass. 

“Go! Get it!” he yelled.

The boar looked to where the sorcerer had thrown the jerky. For a moment, he thought the ruse might work, but when the boar turned back and let out an irritated snort, those hopes instantly dwindled. 

The animal kicked its hind legs back and hurtled itself forward. Aesendel started to take in another long breath, but it was cut short, the spell interrupted, when the animal smashed into the sorcerer’s side, knocking him into the earth.

His body throbbed as he tried to rouse back to his feet. His left side, numb, refused to move at all. The throbbing faded on his right and was replaced by a stabbing, disorientating sting. He tried to roll over, to get to his knees, anything other than remain there prone to serve as a meal to some wild animal. 

It was no use, though. All his struggles were cut short by the pain on his right and the numbness on his left. He laid there and waited. The boar gave a pleased snort, and began pacing, taking in the prize, the victory.

Aesendel closed his eyes and waited.

The boar climbed up on the sorcerer. Hooves dug shallow crevices into Aesendel’s chest. Its toothy jaws opened.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 1: Reunion (part 3)*

The back two hooves of the boar climbed onto Aesendal’s thighs. The full weight of the beast burrowed into the sorcerer’s flesh. In the retelling of this moment, he could not recall with any certainty if it was the pain of the tusks in their attempt to render his flesh apart, or the instinctual urge to survive that provided the sudden rush of potency that billowed through him, but whichever the cause, Aesendal’s eyes popped open, and he gasped in as deep a breath as he could muster. The boar ceased its attempts at the sound and turned to face the prone sorcerer.

It was a fatal error. A torrent of acid arced from Aesendal’s mouth and crashed into the boar’s bulbous face. It was flung clear of the sorcerer’s body, letting loose horrid screams as its flesh was eaten away, exposing its skull behind thick, dangling wedges of curling hide. 

Pain and fatigue finally overtook Aesendal and he fell into unconsciousness. The final sound that reached him before Oblivion dragged him into its bosom, was of horse hooves tearing through the grass, followed closely by the squeaks of wooden wheels, and Hu Li’s shrill voice uttering, with what Aesendal thought was an altogether inappropriate jollity, “Ah! Smells like breakfast.”


Aesendal awoke to the sting of a pungent, hot liquid being poured down his parched throat. The flavor was not at all unpleasant, and after the initial shock, he found the tonic quite soothing. At least, he noted, he wasn’t in any pain. Diminutive, soft hands gently guided his head onto a soft pillow. His eyes fluttered open and he took in the smiling, but worried gaze of young Carrie, Farmer Jed’s six year old daughter. He reached his hand up and took hold of her wrist. “The others…” he managed to scratch out as she pulled her arm free of his grasp.

“They are… fine.” She said, with some hesitation. “All but the one. The one you call Boots. I’m very sorry.” She fought back an innocent tear and Aesendal lowered his head back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

“I see,” was all he said.

“You need to rest,” she chirped. 

“Where is Boots?” asked Aesendal. 

“Lilian, Gabriel, Talon and Hu Li buried him in our family plot. His body would not have lasted a trip back to Goldfire Glen.”

“He had no family there anyway. At least here, he’ll be tended to.” The sorcerer said. 

“Yes. It’s our honor.”

Aesendal closed his eyes. Hearing a little girl say “honor” unnerved him. She was far too young to understand such a lofty ideal. However, whatever was in that draught she gave him began its embrace. Sleep came instantly. 

When he awoke, the sun was low in the sky, bleeding deep oranges and reds through the room’s single, small window. He was in the Farmer’s master bedroom, and despite the comfort of the bed upon which he lay, the room was sparsely decorated. These were simple people and not given to the vulgarities of custom that so consume civilized society. 

He noted the writhing sprig of holly berries and leaves that hung above the doorway. This was a house devoted to the Green. 

He recognized voices from another room, muffled by the closed door, but distinct, nonetheless. Lilian, Gabriel and Hu Li were locked in yet another duel of words. Feeling stronger, he rolled out of bed and proceeded to slide on the clothing that was left for him on a chair. 

Moments later he emerged from the bedroom and into the main sitting area, where Hu Li, Talon, Gabriel and Lilian all sat at a table. Warm, succulent scents filled the cottage. Empty bowls lay scattered about the table top. Conversation ended with Aesendal’s emergence from the bedroom.

Talon, Gabriel and Lilian greeted and hugged their friend heartily and lead him to a stool at the table. Only Hu Li remained unmoved. In fact, his countenance was one of apprehension. Aesendal caught wise to the glare.

“What is it, Hu Li, that troubles you?”

“That spittle. That putrid, olive viscous that vomited from you.”

“He just woke up.” Said Lilian. “Let the man recover.” 

“No.” spat Hu Li. “It will give time to concoct a tale so perfectly feasible, the truth of his—“

“It was a spell.” Asendal flatly replied. “That is all. The common variant is an _acid orb_, which I am sure the great Balian, at the very least, informed you of. I simply altered its shape and the means by which it is evoked.” 

“Ah…” said Hu Li, seemingly perplexed, disappointed and intrigued all at once. “Tailored evocations. Fascinating. I must ask my Master of that when I return to his tower. Yes.” Hu Li wandered off, lost in his own befuddled mutterings. 

Aesendal finally noticed all the healing bruises that riddled his companion’s heads and necks. He felt as if he should say something, but stayed his tongue. What good will it do, he thought. Reminding them all of what had happened. 

And then he remembered Boots. 

After a moment alone at the grave site of his friend, Aesendal returned to the farmer’s cottage. The whole family had returned from the day’s chores and were joined by Lilian, Talon and Gabriel in laughter at young Jimmy’s story about Hu Li. 

“He asked how one retrieved milk from Bessie.” He said with a snort. “I told him, well, you first wrap your mouth about one of the udders and suckle like you would a wedge of an orange!” 

The little house erupted with laughter. Aesendal saw for what the child was attempting to do, and allowed himself a good laugh at the boy’s wit. Hu Li entered a moment later, his robe stained with a circle of raw milk. 

“I believe I have yet to master this art.” He said to the boy with a grimace. The laughter only rose. 

After a short, but restful sleep, Lilian roused the others before the sun arose. Bruised as they were, she insisted they continue the search for the missing Jazzad. Farmer Jed had provided them with waterskins and rations enough to last them two full weeks in the Wildlands. He had returned from a nearby hamlet in the evening with the supplies purchased by the stock of boar meat Hu Li had returned with when he rescued his friends. 

Hu Li made as many inferences to the fact that it was by his actions alone that they all still walked on Turgos. “Though I could have kept on running, and have been completely justified in my actions, as it was within my power to do so, I chose to aid you. May history be the final arbiter in determining the wisdom of my actions.” 

His assertions were met with profound silence. Whenever Gabriel moved in for a retort, he was quietly, but firmly subdued by the others.

Several days passed. The Wildlands opened up to them. Untamed, sparsely mapped, this was a natural world, a world mostly untouched by the oppressive hand of civilization. Great forests grew freely over rolling, grassy hillsides. The air was thick with swarming gnats. 

In the night, as they camped, boars continued to torment them, but they had learned how to combat the beasts with a greater efficiency, and although the beasts managed to let some blood of the companions, not a one fell to their tusks again. 

The following morning, as they ate a breakfast of hard bread and dried boar meat, Talon revealed that he had found tracks during his watch. After breakfast he showed them. Everyone gathered about where he stood. He pushed aside a clump of tall grass and revealed a patch of mud. Small footed tracks were stamped into the wet ground. Humanoid, but smaller, like a child’s. 

“Hold on a moment.” Said Lilian. “I think I see something.” 

She pushed through the grass and stopped a few feet in. She dug at the ground with her foot and suddenly lunged forward. Gabriel ran up beside her. She was sprawled on the ground. The others were soon helping her up. Under her foot there was a narrow hole covered in loose grass. It was large enough only to trip a passerby. 

“I thought so.” Talon uttered. 

“You thought what?” answered Hu Li.

“There is an intelligence at work here. It seemed with each boar attack, they became more… organized.” 

At that, Hu Li scoffed and retorted, “Well, then, Talon, master tactician, disciple of the martial arts, can you devise by these meager clues what sort of intelligence may be in control?”

Talon was used to Hu Li’s outbursts and not prone to bristle at such sophomoric jibes. Nonetheless, Hu Li’s manner of late had become quite irksome. “Perhaps Jordan, with some further investigation, I ca—“

“That’s THE ACOLYTE HU LI!” Hu Li cut him off, annoyed.

Talon merely turned and continued looking for clues as to the nature of the intelligence at work in The Wildlands, but this time, with a slight unnoticed, satisfied smile. 

Meanwhile, Gabriel, Aesendal and Lilian had begun a search around the area, crawling through the tall grass, looking for any more pitfalls. With a short, sharp shout, Lilian vanished. A moment after she screamed in agony. Everyone rushed to the spot where she disappeared to find a massive pit, dug out of the soft ground and covered by now disturbed blades of tall grass. Lilian lay at the bottom. The floor was lined with wooden spikes. Most were broken or merely bent by her impact, but one shot clean through one of her legs. 

Gabriel immediately reached for whatever rope they had with them and lowered it down to her. She gritted her teeth as she pushed her leg up over the spike and tied the rope about her waist. With a great heave, the rest of them pulled her up out of the hole. 

They decided to rest here until the leg was sufficiently healed. As the sun set and they began to ingest portions of their rations Gabriel shook his head and sighed. “Hu Li was right.” Hu Li’s head sprang up and locked on Gabriel’s eyes. “We should never have come out here.” 

“Quite right.” Answered Hu Li. “I am glad someone is listening.” 

“At least…” continued Gabriel “…without Shale. It was foolishness. He is the only one we know who has ever been in the Wildlands. He could guide us through safely. Without him, I fear we are all doomed.”

The sun set over the eastern horizon. Darkness spread and soon sleep took them all, but Gabriel, who kept watch over his sleeping comrades and his sister. 

The peace of the evening was cut short, however when bolts shot out of the shadows and pummeled the ground around the camp. Gabriel roused them all with a shout as, once again, they found themselves surrounded, only this time it was by strange, three foot tall, gray faced humanoids wearing thick layers of skins and carrying crude axes and swords. 

Talon counted twenty of them. With a shout from one of the creatures, they closed in.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Interlude:  Balian's Letter to Helena*

Interlude: Balian's First Letter To Helena

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Dearest Helena,

I hope this correspondence finds you deep in discussion with a bound Pit Fiend. Their enraged harangues always prove amusing afternoon fare. So much time has passed since last we spoke, that I feared as I began to scribe this letter, I would not recall your name, your likeness, your sublime beauty of wisdom as well as countenance. You will be delighted to know that my ridiculous fears were completely unwarranted. At the first dab of my quill into the awaiting vial of ink, every luscious detail of your brilliance flooded back to me with the veracity of a menstruating harpy. 

Over the last century you alone have remained true to the cause I laid before the assembled wizards. In addition, you have become a trusted friend. Since the imprisonment of Kharas’Vhoories (to this day I am loath to utter his name, let alone commit it to writing)* and the passing of the Grand Injunction** things have been, for us, sedate. The last one hundred years have been, where not quite a halcyon period for Arcanists, for the most part, a peaceful one. The Cannanite Fundamentalists have let us be, save for that impulsive, uncouth and clumsy Madrigal, and we have stayed our hand in their petty squabbles as lay forth in the treaty. Though, at times, I shudder to think at what cost we have secured peace. Have we merely assured the ascendancy of the current regime over another? Throwing our lot in with the Canaanites against one of our own was dastardly business. But I sense fear on the wind and it is coming from the golden spires of Soliel.*** Something is amiss there.

I write to you to admit, with detestable humility, that I feel stretched. To live with one eye in this world and the other beyond the capacity of mortal ken has taken me to the precarious precipices of sanity. Something stirs on the edge of reality. It lays waiting in the deepest of shadows, just beyond the periphery of my dreams, and when I awake I have but a vague ethereal memory of encountering anything untoward at all. When in its presence, the oppression is ancient, esoteric, seemingly liberated of all trappings of time or place. Is it here? Was it here? Will it come? What is will? What is was? What is now? What is then? 

You see, my dear, I am becoming unhinged. 

Despite my waking mind’s devotion to unearthing the meaning of these omens, I feel compelled to wander beyond the Threshold into That Which Should Not Be.***** I long to fly in the Amoebic Sea. To breathe light and touch music. This ancient presence is pulling me to itself. I must pursue it. I will be putting my affairs in order, and I call upon your assistance to tend to my mortal frame while my spirit journeys to the edges of reality. Should you be willing to humor the whims of an old man, I shall be eternally grateful. 

You will be delighted to know that I have procured an apprentice who has just recently graduated to the First Valence. He is a promising pupil, albeit an arrogant and obstinate one. He refuses to perform even the simplest of duties, such as licking clean the soars that spew and cake upon my back, without first attempting to engage in an aggravating and utterly futile debate over his flawed perception that such a duty is somehow demeaning or pointless. Of course it is both! But that does not excuse him of executing it! His name, as he demands to be addressed, is the Acolyte Hu Li, but I, in keeping with the strictest of tradition, address him only as “apprentice.” I have great hopes for this one, though a tire of his insolence and lack of focus. Perhaps he needs more time in the Tentacle Room. In my absence you may address him in any fashion you deem warranted. The harsher the better. 

Orolde sends his regards. I do believe that his mood is brightening. I dare say he stopped frowning for about a second once last month.

I await your reply.

Ever your servant, 

Balian 


* Kharas’Vhoorhies was the most powerful Arch Mage in Turgos. He worshipped a chthonic being, named Orcus, who in turn granted him immortality as a lich. He sucked the life out of an entire city to fuel his gambit for godhood.

** The Grand Injunction is a pact among all of the wizards of Turgos not to interfere in matters of religion within the bounds of Turgos. It was passed after the most powerful wizards in Turgos, led by Balian, agreed to assist the Church of Canaan in destroying Kharas’Vhoories, who was intent on challenging Canaan directly once he obtained enough followers. It is not clear whether the wizards could not bring themselves to destroy Kharas’Vhoories (as one of their own) or they lacked the power to do any more than imprison him.

***Soliel is the capital of Turgos and the home of The Great Temple, the seat of Canaanism in Turgos.

**** The Threshold is the doorway between this reality and the next.

***** Balian is a fully transcended Alienist and Arch Mage. This is Balian’s understanding of The Far Realm. It’s in line with Lovecraftian concepts.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 2: In Exile*

The nadir of my standing in the religious order of Canaan, and, thus the Curia, is forever tethered to the beginning of my true spiritual quest. For many months I had been toiling over dusty tomes locked away in the most esoteric corners of the temple library in Soliel, the spiritual and political center of Canaanism. Unbeknownst to my superiors, I had been delving in forbidden lore. It was Archbishop Tagavarius, the skeletal, pale, heartless eyes of the Curia for the school I attended who discovered me. He brought me before the order. The trial was swift. I was to be banished. That evening, as I awaited extradition, kneeling in a frigid, rancorous, windless cell, my faith in Canaan blossomed. Ideas that long slumbered awoke and the Endlessness, the Eternal, the Boundless, poured into me like a bloated river pours over parched winter-scorched land in the first days of Spring. I was liberated from fear of the Curia. They were bound to the Rules of the Church. Not to Canaan. I also felt the presence of Canaan all around me. His miracles were not taken from me. All the ceremony of the earthly, pawing Curia that were meant to sever my bindings to His Almighty failed. Canaan had not abandoned me! 

Deep in the embrace of His Most Profound, I knelt in sublime bliss. The hard stone of the floor dug into my knees, and I felt no pain. But as with all things save Him Who Must Be Adored, the bliss ended, abruptly. 

I was shaken by the sound of keys digging into the lock of my cell. The large wooden door creaked open and I caught only a glimpse of the tongue-less, hunchbacked unfortunate that served as the Curia’s dungeon keeper. He swiftly stepped into a shadow beyond the door to allow four armored soldiers to enter. I knew by the Canaan Cross on their coats that they were Justicars, the muscle of the Curia. They stood in a square, each one taking up a corner, leaving space before me for the entrance of Archbishop Tagavarius. His white, lipless mouth was bent down in its usual deep scowl. 

“Heathen!” he roared. “Stand!” 

I obeyed. 

“I thought I was to be….” I began, my eyes staring at his blue slippers. He was adorned in the typical conspicuous fineries befitting his standing in the Church. Gold and purple lacing that surrounded a brilliant cross the color of the sun at its zenith. 

“Silence!” He commanded. I must say, despite my solid disdain for the man, he had a voice that demanded attention. His icy eyes bore into me. “Yes. There has been a change in the schedule. Despite my protests, the Curia has voted to allow you to begin your sentence as Soliel sleeps. They feel it is better for the city if your disgrace remains discreet. I feel your punishment is far too genteel. You forayed into the taboo without the wisdom or spiritual clarity to handle the knowledge you gleaned. Left unchecked, you could have lost your very soul with such dabbling! Worse yet, in your naiveté you could have summoned up Unspeakables that reside on the very edges of sanity itself!”

I stood quietly, listening to his shallow accusations. I heard them many times before in my arrest, my arraignment, my trial and my sentencing.

I knew this sudden change had nothing to do shielding me from scandal, but to prevent the city itself from asking questions about me being defrocked. If they were to answer with the truth, it would uncover the Curia’s most staunchly guarded secret, that such knowledge existed under their protection. Such a revelation would shake the foundations of the Curia and test their stranglehold over Turgos. 

I was lead in silence to the gates of Soliel. By night, the looming, marble buildings seemed to soak up the darkness. Tall, implacable black monoliths looking on with scorn. The streets where quiet. The only sound was the soldiers’ gait and the click of the Archbishop’s staff striking the cobblestones. At last we arrived at the south gate. The ten foot tall doors yawned open. Archbishop Tagavarius silently passed me a small bag of gold and silver. He turned and walked away. The soldiers remained. They did not move until I cleared the gate and the doors portcullis fell behind me. 

My path lay before me, and I was ecstatic. 

In the month that followed, I journeyed south. I passed through many small villages where I used the money left for me to procure a suit of studded leather and a mace so I would have some means to defend myself. I also purchased a small donkey and various traveling sundries to survive my travels. I had nowhere in particular to go, and trusted in Canaan to lighten my path. 

I even purchased a new Canaan Cross, blessed it one cloudless dawn and wore it even as I slept, as I do to this day. Canaan has never left me, nor shall he ever. Wherever I went, I introduced myself as a Priest of Canaan, and no one ever questioned my claims. My suspicions regarding the Curia’s reasons for keeping my crimes covert were only strengthened. 

As I traveled, I had much time to reflect on the course of events that brought me to where I was.

My family was farmers. We all bore fiery red hair and light, sapphire hued eyes. We worshiped the Green.

Nestled in a Northern wilderness, protected on all sides by high mountains and thick forests, my earliest memories were collecting eggs in cramped, odorous chicken houses, dragging baskets laden with freshly shorn wheat, carrots and beans at Harvest, and helping my father mend holes in our thatched roof under heavy rainfalls. The smell of pitch instantly carries me back to those times and to that place. 

My childhood was not easy, but it was pleasant, loving, safe, caring, and secure. But it never felt entirely whole. I silently harbored a deep longing. There was something missing from my life, something the tales and promises of the Green could not fill. 

It was not until a group of strangely attired foreigners tread upon our land one cool autumn evening that I discovered my true calling. I was eleven years old and I recall my father’s rancor at that site of the men. I was stacking barrels of dried beans in our barn when I first heard their songs of praise dancing on a strong, northern wind that blew into the barn through the cracks in the boarded walls. 

I was enraptured. The entire time they spent in our midst, I held close, learning the stories of Canaan, how He created the world from His love and how all he asked in return was that His Creation love him in return. 

I converted. 

Crushed by my new found certainties, my family privately disowned me, but in the presence of the missionaries, so as not to offend them and threaten the wrath of the Church, they remained placid, and even feigned joy when the missionaries announced my conversion.

I returned to Soliel with the missionaries and began my tutelage under the stoic glares of Father Donner. He was a round man, short and plain. Small eyes under thin spectacles that bridged an oblong, mole spattered nose, which twitched whenever he spoke not unlike a squirrel’s. He was an academic and made soft in frame from years of intellectual pursuits at the expense of fitness. His tales of the Will of Canaan were far different than those of the missionaries. He taught us that Canaan is a vengeful God, a jealous God, a God that demands strict adherents to the Law He set forth. This Law, the good Father claimed, was governed with Divine Authority by the Church of Soliel and the Curia, Canaan’s Eyes, Voice and Hand on Turgos.

The Arcane arts were forbidden. Their power was derived from the guidance of demons, devils and other unmentionables. Worshippers of the Green were heathens, wild and barbaric, performing blood rituals of sacrifice, just as evil and decrepit as any abomination. 

Father Donner was speaking of my family. I could not believe what I was hearing. I began to question him, but was soon quieted with threats of punishment. I held my tongue. Over the years I studied dutifully. I excelled at every course and learned to channel Canaan’s Will through the power of prayer and perform simple miracles designed to aid those in need. But I quietly looked for any opportunity to refute the claims of the Church that all deviations from the Path of Canaan were to be unilaterally condemned. 

It was then that I discovered the secreted store of hidden knowledge. Buried deep under the halls of the temple was a library filled with dusty tomes detailing the levels of Hell and the Abyss. The wastelands of Tarterus and the burning deserts of Gehenna. I read of the fates of those who were condemned to reside in such horrific abodes and the incessant wars demons and devils waged against one another. 

I learned too a path that combined the Divine with the Arcane. Specialized Priests with the wisdom to bridge the powers and remain in the service of Canaan. They were called Urgic Mystics and I knew upon reading those words that there lay my fate. 

And then I was discovered.

I traveled alone for many weeks, my donkey my only companion. I found myself along a tree covered forest path when my donkey let out a snarl. I turned to see he was walking with a limp. I stopped and examined his hoof to find that somehow he had managed to wedge a long, sharp stone into a hoof. Blood circled the edge of stone that jutted out from the hoof. It was in deep.

I struggled for some time in a futile attempt to dislodge the offending rock and only managed to make my already irritated beast of burden downright livid. He whinnied angrily at me and even tried to bite me, but I managed to stay out of reach of those big, raking teeth. 

I had all but given up when out of the thick foliage on the side of the road came a tall, gaunt man dressed in a long green robe. His auburn hair lay about his face, framing large, quizzically calm brown eyes. 

“I see you’re having trouble with your donkey.” He kindly uttered.

“Yes.” I answered, exasperated, exhausted and embarrassed. 

“Hmm…” said the man as he came around and examined the damaged hoof on his own. “I see. That’s quite a rock he’s got in there.” 

“I’ve tried everything short of cutting off the leg.” I said. The donkey huffed.

The man smiled. 

“There will be no need of that.” He said and reached down, touched the hoof and all the green that surrounded me grew even more brilliantly verdant. The man quietly muttered some soothing words and my donkey remained still. 

A moment later the man was standing in front of me, the stone in his hand.

“There we have it.” He said. “Best you do what you can to steer clear of sharp stones.” 

“Yes.” I replied as he tossed the stone into the foliage. I was too appreciative to take offence to the criticism. He held out a hand. I took it.

“My name is Shale.” He said. 

“I am Evora Faro. Priest of Canaan.” 

“Ahh!” he answered and pulled his hand away. “A servant of Soliel, and of the Curia.” He voice did not mask his distrust.

“No.” I assured him. “A Priest of Canaan. And that is all. I serve no constructs of mankind.”

Surprisingly, he eyed me with even more suspicion. 

“And you are a Druid.” I plainly said.

“Yes.” He replied and began to walk away. “You are in her realm.” 

“Where are you headed?” I asked.

“To Goldfire Glen. I am delayed. I am meeting old friends.” 

“May I accompany you? I feel I owe it to you. I have a mace. I can be of some use. You can never be too careful.”

It was a pitiful argument to be sure, and Shale stopped, turned back to me and smiled, knowing full well even I did not believe I would be of much use if there ever was trouble. Even so, he nodded and with a wave of a hand, signaled me over. I pulled my donkey to him and we walked down the path together. We discussed many things. I told him of my past, my family and how I am no longer welcomed in Soliel. He told me of his master and mentor, the great Baern, a high priest of the Green and the steward of a great forest to the North. 

He told me the village of Goldfire Glen was two days travel from where we were and that the reunion with his friends was a celebration for one of them who had recently become a novice arcanist. 

Naturally, I was intrigued. 

By the end of the day we had cleared the forest and a wide, flat browning plain lay before us. He told me the path widened into a well traveled road some miles ahead, but with night’s spreading darkness we decided to make camp. 

Shale told me he would keep watch for a while, allowing me time to rest. No sooner had I spread out my traveling blanket, lay down and closed my eyes that a violent stirring erupted from the forest behind us. 

I grabbed my mace and sprang to my feet as rabid boars leapt from the trees and charged.

Without thinking I swung at one as it closed in on me. My mace struck its jaw. I could hear the bones shattering under the blow. The boar rolled to his side, screaming and snorting madly. It shook its head, reeling from the pain. Blood and bits of bone sprayed everywhere.

Shale was standing quite still. The grass upon which he stood curled around his feet, and despite it being in the thick of night, the blades of grass shimmered with the brilliance of the finest emerald. 

Three other boars circled him. He was speaking calmly in a language I could not understand. 

The boars seemed to be answering him with angry snorts and growls. Spittle dripped from their foaming maws. 

The one I had struck barreled at me. I stepped aside at the last moment, evading its attack. I struck down with my mace, striking the head, and caving in its skull.

I then turned my attention on Shale. The other three boars had stopped their circling. They kicked up dirt as they hurtled themselves at the Druid, but he did not move. He gave a quick flicker of his hand and a group of trees suddenly bent down, the branches reaching out like great arms that wrapped around the boars. They screamed and howled, but to no avail. They were _entangled_. 

Shale turned to me, took note of my blood soaked mace, and sadly uttered with a tear in his eye, “Please. Put them out of their misery.”


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 3: Unnatural Instincts*

For nearly two days following the puzzling boar attack, Shale spoke very little. Once we had disposed of the rabid beasts, Shale gathered their carcasses in a short pile and burned them. I would have protested, arguing the ensuing scent of cooking meat would attract other, more fearsome predators, but the druid was so quick in his duty, I barely realized what he was doing before the flames sprang up and began consuming the creatures’ flesh. 

Shale stood silently before the fire, his eyes drying out from the billowing, gray smoke, but he did not blink. He kept his vigil, uttering a somber prayer in some ancient, sacred language. At last he turned away and went over to his traveling blanket. He bent over and began rolling it up. I hurriedly followed suit, packing up my supplies and fastening them to my annoyed donkey. Shale helped me after he finished with his own meager belongings.

We walked on, heading further up the road in silence and darkness. We did not sleep until long after the light of a new day crept over the undulating, grassy hills to the east. Chill winds tore through my meager traveling clothes and stabbed at my flesh, keeping my growing fatigue at bay. Exhausted as I was, Shale kept up an urgent stride down the south bound, wide and well-worn road. He seemed unaffected by either the icy morning gusts or our rapid pace. 

My donkey began to falter. His gait slowed to a standstill. I gave the reins a solitary yank and the donkey refused to move. 

“We must rest” I hoarsely called out to Shale who had stridden ahead several paces. He did not stop. 

“Shale!” I yelled. “Please! I cannot take much more of this without a moment’s respite!” 

He turned around. Upon seeing my predicament with the donkey, he nodded.

* * * *

After a few hours of light, restless sleep, Shale gently kicked at my leg arousing me and we continued on down the road. Sometime later, in the early hours of the afternoon, I spotted a gleaming, thin spire of what I thought at first was a Canaanite church. Moments later, the small village that it overshadowed came into view: Goldfire Glen. It was then I realized that it was atop the village’s small keep on which the Canaanite spire was perched.

Shale, myself and the donkey breezed into the cobblestone streets of Goldfire Glen. He led me to the Feisty Fox tavern and inn. I maneuvered my donkey over to a post and proceeded to tether him to it as Shale disappeared through the tavern’s entrance. I had completed my slipknot when Shale broke through the doorway and hurried down the road, deeper into the village. I left my donkey behind and managed to catch up to him.

“What is it?” I asked. He did not answer me. He simply strode on, betraying no indication that neither my question nor even my very presence mattered in the least. We soon came upon Menion, the Herbalist’s shop. Shale stormed in. I followed, trying not to make a sound.

The air in the shop was thick with a sweet smelling cloud that tickled my temples and caressed my already tired head. I held onto the door jam to remain standing. 

Menion’s soft, sing-song voice welcomed Shale. “Shale! My old friend!” He cooed. “You look… terrible…”

Shale took a deep breath. His cheeks purpled as he drove down a growing rage. “Why did you send my friends out into the Wildlands? If this has to do with replenishing your stock of illicit materials…”

“Shale… friend… I would never put anyone in danger for something criminal. What kind of person do you think I am?” Menion’s voice was soothing, ethereal and distant. But it did little to squelch the growing fires that were about to consume Shale.

“Answer me!” he roared. “Why?” The wrath of Shale’s mood broke Menion’s spell. His eyes slammed open and he took in the full frame of Shale’s enraged countenance and cowered.

“I asked Lilian, I begged her, really. My friend, the Ranger Jazzad, he was due to arrive in Goldfire Glen nearly two weeks ago. I was worried for him. I still am. I asked Lilian to look for him.” 

* * * *

By the time the sun had set on that day, Shale, myself and my donkey had long since left Goldfire Glen far behind and we made camp by the side of the road. Over the flickers of the dying campfire, Shale finally broke his silence. 

“The fools!” he said “They should have never gone out into the Wildlands without me.”

I let a silence set in. Shale finally locked eyes with me. He sighed. “Forgive me, Evora. I have been distracted, preoccupied these last few days. Such dire portents have put me in a foul state. You do not have to journey any further. Thank you for your companionship. I do appreciate it.”

“What was afflicting the boars?” I asked, wanting to distract the point of conversation. There was no way under the Gaze of Canaan that I was going to part ways now. 

Shale sighed again. His face hardened for a moment, perhaps taken aback by my sudden conversational hubris, but then he gently nodded and poked at the dying fire with a stick. 

“Something wholly unnatural has taken hold of them. It has twisted their instincts. I spoke with them, I tried to calm them, to inform them that we were neither food nor predators. All they could say was ‘She commands. She is vile. We kill for her.’ Something powerful has been awoken. My master Baern has the power to free them of this possession. I, however, do not. Given the time I had, death was a far better fate.”

“I am sorry, Shale.” A pathetic attempt at comfort, but in the moment it was all I had. “I will stay with you. I will help you and your friends find this Jazzad. I will help you lift this curse from the boars. Canaan has led me here for a reason. I cannot deny His will.” 

After the first full night of rest in what seemed like weeks, we continued onward, Shale always leading the way. 

Around sunset, a tall, wide, ivy encrusted tower came into view. It scarred the horizon like a boney finger. As we approached it, we could hear the splashing and quacks of a sizable family of ducks that made the black moat that surrounded the tower their home. A gust of wind brought with it the noxious odor of untold years of defecation. Both Shale and I averted our nostrils. 

“What is this horrible place?” I inquired. 

“The Tower of Balian, the Ever Watchful. It is under his tutelage that Jordan learned the arcane arts.” 

The sun was setting. The air was growing cold. Knowing, too, that this foreboding abode housed a powerful wizard, the awful smells seemed to subside for a moment. 

“Perhaps, then” I began “We could request a room from this wizard. If he is the master of a friend of yours that should warrant his hospitality. And the chance to sleep in an actual bed is enough reason to chance it.” 

Shale nodded and we strode forward. A great shadow leaned forward from the tower and engulfed the winding path that lead up to the raised drawbridge. The moment we broke the edge of the shadow, a great weight slammed down on me. My movements were sluggish. It was as though I was underwater, yet I was dry. Fear clung to me like icy water as I began to suffocate. I turned to Shale and he, too, showed signs of dread. His eyes where wide, his mouth agape, his hands reached forward, pushing back some invisible threat. With all the strength afforded to us, we turned away and broke the threshold of the shadow and emerged into the dying orange light of the setting sun.

“Perhaps not.” I managed to utter between a gasp. 

“Yes.” Answered Shale. “Clearly he is in no mood for visitors.” 

We hastened away. 

* * * *

I cannot recall with any accuracy how many days we traveled passed Balian’s Tower. I remember being further accosted by the rabid, possessed boars. Shale and I did everything in our power to avoid any direct confrontations with them, but we did not always succeed. Thus, many had to be slain. We had little choice. With each subsequent skirmish, Shale became even more agitated. He would wince whenever I performed the killing blow, but we both knew it was better than the alternative. Even so, it did not make the gruesome task any easier. 

We came across Farmer Jed’s home. He told Shale that his friends left a few days ago, after recuperating from a deadly boar attack. He showed Shale and I Boots’s grave. Shale knelt down and touched the simple grave marker. He said nothing. In the dying light of the day, Shale’s usually hearty, smoothed, tanned features were sallow and creased with lines of fatigue. This journey was truly taking its toll on the Druid. 

I uttered a short prayer to Canaan, asking Him to take Boots into His care. 

Farmer Jed’s offers of hospitality were rebuffed by Shale, as he wished to continue moving. 

“They’re in danger out there without me.” He said. “I need to find them. Something very strange is happening and I fear if our journey is delayed much longer, they will be lost.” 

Deep in the night we came to the granite bridge that stretched over the steep cliff and dried out ravine which served as the official border between Turgos and the Wildlands. The darkness under the bridge looked solid, as if it were simply a floor anyone could walk across. Shale informed me of the tradition of tossing salt over the edge of the bridge to appease the spirit which, legend had it, resided there. Not wishing to tempt fate, I obliged the tradition and fed the spirit a pinch’s worth of salt. 

We crossed the bridge and headed into the Wildlands. 

More days passed. We were unmolested, but even so, the shifting landscape, turning from twisting hills, vast, featureless plains and dense, opaque forests, I was glad to be in the presence of someone accustomed to such terrain. Shale remained focused. He studied every blade of tall grass, every overturned rock, every chipped, low hanging branch for evidence of his friends’ passage. 

He would say very little, making amendments to our course and direction with a point of the finger, a wave of the hand, or a nod of the head. 

“We are gaining ground. But we must hurry.” He would say and quicken his pace. I did my best to keep up, but pulling a stubborn, constantly famished donkey along at the speed Shale moved proved impossible. With a growing frustration, Shale was forced to match our pace or leave us behind.

Several days later, Shale, a good hundred paces ahead of us, suddenly stopped. He turned back to us and bounded up to me.

“Careful.” He said. “Up ahead. There are bodies.” 

“More boars?” I asked.

“No.” 

“Your friends?” 

“No. Thank the Green. It is something else entirely. Follow me, but stay alert.”

I obeyed. The two of us, my donkey in tow, made our way up a slightly rising hill and I stopped short at the crest and gasped. 

There, tucked in a neat pile, were what at first appeared to be the corpses of small children, only they were all clad in primitive, poorly hewn, coats of hide. Crude weapons, axes, knives and swords, were arranged next to the heap. 

“Who could have done such a thing?” I fought back a growing urge to openly sob. 

Shale turned to me, his eyes bent in a look of utter incomprehension. 

“They were… children…” I said between huffs. Shale put a hand on my shoulder.

“No, Evora.” He said. “These were no children. Come. Let me show you.” He led me down the hill to the pile. The stench of decay clung to the air. I gagged. Shale lifted one of the corpse’s faces and showed me. 

It was gray. The features were flat, the lifeless eyes but slits. Its mouth was full of broken, oversized, yellow fangs. I recoiled at the sight of them. Then I recalled something I had read in my taboo studies under the hallowed halls of the Temple of Canaan in Soliel. A tome on magical creatures known as “fey.”

“Goblins.” I uttered in realization.

“Yes.” Answered Shale. “And there will be more of them. There always are.” 

Just then we heard a rustling in the tall grass to the North. Something was moving toward us, something shielded by shadow and the wall of grass. 

I took hold of my mace. Shale began to incant. 

We readied ourselves for the ambush.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 4: The Circle*

Chapter 4: The Circle 

Save for Shale’s quiet incantation, and the soft humming of countless invisible crickets, all was quiet. I tightened my grip on the hilt of my mace and tried to relax enough to land a clear strike to the first goblin or boar head that showed itself. 

The tall grass shimmered as if latticed with dew and began to twist and curl under Shale’s command. A voice, parched and hoarse, cried out from the overgrowth.

“Shale!” it called. “It’s me! Gabriel!” 

Shale fell out of his trance. He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the direction of the sound, alert and tense. 

“Gabriel?” he asked with more than a hint of suspiciousness. He moved closer to the source of the sound. I moved up just a pace or two closer the Druid, my mace pulled up over my head. Shale pulled the grass aside. Tied up in dozens of warped green and yellow strands sat a very annoyed, blonde haired, blue-eyed man, garbed in simple brown traveling clothes. Shale immediately smiled at the sight, uttered a single word and the grass released him. 

Gabriel stood, his scowl vanished and he fell into Shale with a big, warm, fraternal embrace. Shale returned the hug, but added in a whisper. 

“Why did you come out here without me?” 

Gabriel sighed. “It was Lilian. She believed time was of the essence.” 

“Then I will have words with her.” Answered Shale. 

The reunion was cut short by a shout. 

“Damn!” Gabriel growled. “More of them!” 

Eerie, high pitched chattering and shouts filled the air. It was followed swiftly by the telltale clash of metal against metal. 

Gabriel ran ahead. I left my donkey tethered as I followed him and Shale into the tall grass. The sounds of battle drew nearer with every step. My palms and brow dripped thin tributaries of anxious sweat. Boars were frightening enough, now we were about to face a hoard of rampaging goblins! 

I fought down my mind’s every attempt to swallow me up with fear and I plunged forward through the grass, Shale and Gabriel but a few paces ahead of me. We emerged into a clearing that was alive with the chaos of a violent skirmish. 

I was instantly beset by four of the gray-hued, flat-faced creatures bearing horrid gray fangs and crude axes, clubs and swords. I called upon Canaan to show me his Divine Favor, and my mace glowed with His Eternal Justice as I struck down the first goblin to cross my path. 

Round, mystical bolts of energy flew from the hands of frail Aesendal. They leveled two of the marauding creatures. 

The pale frame of Hu Li chanted on the edge of the clearing, his hands and fingers writhing in complicated contortions. A moment later, a haloed hound appeared in the middle of three of the goblins, snapping and pawing at them. It caught one by the throat and wrestled it down to the ground.

Lilian’s long, golden hair, reflected the soft blue moonlight as she limped toward a clump of goblins, deftly brandishing her sword. Her leg, still bandaged from the impaling, was stiffly dragged along. If she was in any pain, her face showed none of it. An aura of hope emanated from her like the first spring thaw after a dreadful winter.

Talon and Gabriel effortlessly grappled and flung several goblins into each other. The ghastly cracks of shattering bones combined with the goblin’s high-pitched battle cries.

Shale appeared beside me, readying his own weapon, a weapon I had never seen him use until this moment. Though it remained sheathed at his belt, I scantly recall even taking notice of it. It reflected moonlight as it cleaved a hapless goblin in twain. The blade, slightly curved at the end, was brandished with the same eloquence and poetry of Lilian’s impressive swordsmanship. 

A moment later, those few goblins who had survived the initial fray, dropped their weapons and fled. 

The blazing, enchanted hound vanished, its celestial light along with it, and the clearing was plunged into the dim blues of moon and star light. 

Shale was met with gracious, brotherly embraces from everyone, even Hu Li.

Finally, with an outstretched hand, Shale introduced me, “This is Evora Faro.” Lilian’s eyes fell on my symbol of Canaan. 

“You’re a priest of Canaan?” She asked, hope pouring from her voice.

“Yes.” I simply replied. 

“Good!” Snapped Hu Li. “Then you can call upon your beloved deity to mend her bum leg! Just, please, don’t start preaching. It’s been bad enough out here.” 

A fire was stoked. The travelers sat around it, warming themselves as they could. Tales of travels, of Jazzad, of the rabid boars and the hoard of goblins were shared as I prayed to Canaan, asking for his healing grace to smile upon his champion, the fair, the chaste and the beautiful Lilian Evenshire. His Wonderfulness answered and her bones mended, her flesh healed and she could once again walk without any added exertion. 

I did what I could to salve the scrapes and bruises suffered by the others in the battle. 

Talon refused any aid from me, insisting that his faith in the Green would suffice. He folded into a lotus position, closed his eyes and became very still. For the remainder of the evening, he did not utter a single word. He remained perfectly still, warmed and lit by the small fire, his eyes and soul shut away from the world. 

Gabriel suffered numerous wounds from the goblins’ fanatical attack. When I first approached him, he, like Talon, wished no help, but his sister convinced him otherwise. 

“He is a Priest.” She told him. “He is here to help. That is the only thing that concerns him. This has nothing to do with you, Gabriel. Cease your stubbornness and accept his aid.” 

Gabriel acquiesced. I bound his wounds and lay a simple blessing upon him that went but a small way toward entirely relieving his pain. He remained tense in my presence, as if standing in wait for some horrible blow to befall him that he must be ready to parry. I refrained from inquiring why my presence so upset him. I simply let him be. 

Both Arcanists, The Acolyte Hu Li and Aesendal emerged from the skirmish unscathed, having spent its entirety lobbing their evocations from a distance. Though the two shared a talent for the Art, I quickly learned that evening that their outlooks, approaches, and theoretical foundations were diametrically opposed. 

“Lore!” Hu Li preached “That is where the truth lies. All that is known is already known and has been committed by those who have the capacity to understand the true nature of reality in esoteric tomes….”

“But that does not explain me.” Aesendal interrupted. “I learned nothing from ancient, dusty books. My talents come… naturally. Yes, my magic may not be as versatile as yours, Hu Li, but…”

“That is because you practice… polluted… magics!” Hu Li scolded. 

Everyone laughed. Hu Li harrumphed and retreated to his rolled out blanket. He crossed his legs, took up one of his thick, cumbersome books and read. The outburst failed to disturb Talon, who continued his meditation unabated before the dwindling fire. 

I found myself staring at Hu Li. My curiosity had been tweaked. Perhaps he would be able to lead me through the first steps toward becoming an Urgic Mystic. I thanked Canaan for bringing me to this eccentric, belligerent, spirit.

A hand on my shoulder broke the enchantment. Lilian’s verdant eyes smiled at me. “I am glad you are here.” She said. “Where Shale has the knowledge to show us the way through the Wildlands, you have the faith that will insure we will arrive safely.”

I swallowed at the thought. Such faith she should have in a total stranger, but I fought down the idea until it was crushed into dust and scattered to the four winds. She was a champion of Canaan, and I was His earthly emissary. I had a duty to perform which had nothing to do with me. Canaan had brought me here. That was all either one of us needed to accept. 

Lilian blessed me with the story of her and Gabriel’s childhood. Their father, Lord Eladrin Evenshire, was as devout and pure as a champion of Canaan could be. He spent his many years in service to the Church seeking servants of the Adversary and routing out its wicked schemes. It was said that Canaan so blessed Lord Evenshire that a Holy Emissary of Canaan, one of His Celestial Host personally watched over him. That Emissary, Cilestrial, saw in the young champion, a pure and gentle heart, a compassionate disposition, a just will, and a righteous fury. 

When Eladrin’s wife, Lady Amila Evenshire, became pregnant, Cilestrial came to him, an ethereal angel dressed in white and enshrouded in a shimmering halo. Her golden celestial wings spread and unfurled encompassing the whole of the Champion’s vision. The Angel gave him this message: 

“I come bearing glad tidings! You have been gifted with a family! Care for them for they will be champions of Canaan. Watch and guide them for they are mortal and possess free will. Though the path of good comes naturally they shall not be immune to the intoxicating calls of corruption. They shall be blessed with strength, wisdom and beauty, but such virtues are quickly sullied in the absence of unending vigilance.” 

Shortly thereafter, Lord Evenshire retired from campaigning and spent his days at his estate, taking a more academic position with the Church. Lord and Lady Evenshire taught the children well and were not surprised that good, honesty and selflessness came naturally to them. Still, a little dishonesty and a tantrum or two reminded them that they indeed were possessed of a mortal spirit and were not infallible. Eladrin was content. Canaan had blessed him with a good and loving family. 

“When we were still very young....” Lilian began, her voice weakening slightly. 

Gabriel looked over to her, and then to me.

“Lilian, please.” He interrupted. “You have said enough. Let the Priest be. And let our past be.” 

His voice trailed off on the last utterance. Lilian’s features hardened, but remained kind. Gabriel turned away, shaking his head. He dug at the ground with a finger. Lilian continued her story.

“When we were but six, our parents left us. My father told us he and my mother had something very important to do for the Church. They never returned.” 

“How awful.” It was all I could think of to say in the silence that followed. 

“Indeed, it was.” She answered. Her voice was both breathy and weighted. “They are presumed dead. We were raised in the Church in Soliel, then I was transferred to serve at Goldfire Glen, within the walls of Underhill Keep. Gabriel came with me.  Our birthright, our family’s estate, was turned over to the Church. One day I will reclaim it. I will command an army of Canaanite champions and we will protect Turgos from any and all machinations of the Adversary.” 

Her voice was as crisp and clear as the air after a warm spring rain. It was not difficult to imagine her commanding great, gleaming waves of armored men who stand in opposition to voracious malevolence. 

“I wish only to be at your side when such a day comes.” I told her, awed by the vision her story awoke in me. 

Gabriel turned back around. Their eyes locked for a long, silent moment. At last, Gabriel nodded and smiled. She returned it.

“Welcome, Evora.” Gabriel said, eyes still on his sister. “Welcome, Priest of Canaan.” He stood and moved over to his blanket and lay down. Lilian looked over to me.

“He likes very few.” She said with a smirk. “I can tell he likes you.”

Without any official word or ceremony, I was invited into the circle. I never felt more welcomed anywhere in my life. 


* * * *

As I sit on this rocky ship heading to the dreadful isle of Demon Claw, I just now realize it has been several weeks since the events I am committing to paper. So much has happened that I find it hard to recall every detail. The whole of their tale, up to that point was told from each their own limited and fractured points of view. 

Writing it all down is proving to be an effective means to unlock the bound doors of memory and flooding in the light of recollection, illuminating much of the details previously confined to enshrouding mists. 

While this is a minor point and has little relevance to the rest of this tale, I now recall that Shale and I tried to visit Balian's Tower before we went to Goldfire Glen. 

As I said, it matters not, but for geography, for Balian's Tower is a full day's journey South of Goldfire Glen, while the road one takes from Goldfire Glen to get near The Wildlands, which winds along the river that feeds that village, is due West of Goldfire Glen. Perhaps senility is setting in, even at my tender age, or perhaps it is merely the oppressive stresses of my recent trials and tribulations.

No matter. But while on the subject of geography, I suppose this would be a good time to inform the reader, you, a bit about Turgos as it existed at the time of this writing.

Goldfire Glen is a small but significant agricultural community in what many citizens refer to as the "breadbasket of Turgos." Farms abound among the rolling hills and plains near Goldfire Glen. More than a mere village, Goldfire Glen is in fact a Barony, one of many in the County of Auros, the capital of which is the Town of Auros, where Duke and Duchess Devonhilt reside. 

The County of Auros is one of seven counties that make up the Kingdom of Turgos, the capital of which is Soliel. Auros lies to the North of Goldfire Glen about a week's journey and Soliel lies to the East and North of Auros about a week's journey. Soliel is a port city with the vast Altisanum Sea (Sea of Unknown Depth) to the East of it. 

Far to the south of Goldfire Glen, beyond the southernmost edge of the County of Auros, and the southern counties below that, is the Kingdom of Shuuth. Shuuth is an arid, desert land populated with demon worshipping pagans. Its harsh, stoic and exotic peoples bear skin the color of tree bark and, it is said, shamelessly attire themselves in thin, translucent, billowing silks that reveal far more flesh than they obscure. Some say their harshness is merely a shield hiding a delightful and jovial race. I find that hard to believe given the powers they worship. It is written that the deities of Shuuth are the corrupted, enslaving Sleeping Gods who Canaan banished long ago. Most horrid, most foul, most unwise for these people to take refuge in such depravity! 

The North of Turgos is a mountainous land, rumored to be a place of succor for outlaws and other unfortunates, where profiteers mine iron, gold, silver and precious stones. It is said that whole nations of a people referred to as Dwarves reside in those mountains. Though I have known men and women of diminutive stature, to claim they are an entirely foreign race is preposterous and insulting. They are still human. They are still the beloved Creation of Canaan! 

The Wildlands, the vast, untamed wilderness where Shale, myself and the others are traveling in the part of our story that this journal currently records, runs along the western border of Turgos and is bordered on the north by the foothills of the Blackrock Mountains and on the south by Mistmarsh Lake. It remains unclear what lies to the west of The Wildlands. Nobody has journeyed all the way through The Wildlands and returned. It is a land devoted to The Green and it separates the civilized lands of Turgos from what lays beyond it. 

It is somewhere near the heart of these stunningly beautiful and serene land that the ancient temple of destruction and evil, Rappan’Athuk, rests. 

Rappan’Athuk is a blight on the land, a place so vile that it gives pause to the heartiest warrior. It is a place of nightmares, the subject of bedtime stories told to keep children on their best behavior. Dark rituals dedicated to the most depraved of beings are said to have been performed at this place long, long ago. When the church of Canaan learned of its presence, it convinced then King George III of Turgos to join his armies with those of the church to cleanse this abomination. Thousands of soldiers entered The Wildlands. Only three returned. 

No coherent report could be gleaned from the survivors as they had all been driven mad by whatever unspeakable horrors they witnessed. Had the Voice and Will of Canaan not informed the Curia that the raid was a total failure, none would have ever known. 

I have since been privy to truths of that doomed crusade that the Curia would prefer to be left unknown. The Wildlands was trampled under the weight of the armies of Soliel. The wound they left has yet to fully heal. In that time, the Curia ordered and carried out a vicious and cruel oppression of all denizens of the Green in the name of Canaan. Countless innocents were mercilessly burned at the stake for heresy and other preposterous unfounded transgressions. 

Much later in this tale, Shale, returned to us after his untimely death, reincarnated as a creature unlike any I have ever seen, was granted the vision of the horrors of which I just wrote. He now calls himself Shallahai. He bears a scimitar infused with the power of the Green. He professes to be the Green’s Answer. I have no reason to doubt him. It was his very vision that set me on the path I now fully embrace. 

Forgive the digression. Let us return to the story at hand.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 5:  The Boar King*

I awoke the following morning to the sounds of Hu Li mumbling incoherently over an opened book. I was tempted to peer over his shoulder, but I wished not to be rude, and the sun was just peeking over the Eastern Horizon and it was the traditional time for me to Commune with my Lord and Life. I found an appropriately secluded spot a few paces from the camp and performed my morning prayers. By the time the sun had cleared the horizon and shone its full glory over the vast plains, Canaan’s Grace was once again granted to me for the day. 

Hu Li’s irritated, shrill voice tripped over the air as I returned to the camp. 

“And I reiterate…” he huffed “tracking down these creatures will earn us nothing but our deaths. Their tracks will lead us nowhere else but to their lair where hundreds will be laying in wait. It’s the same as trying to stomp a roach with a rock, only to release one hundred other roaches that were hiding under said rock.”

When I returned to the campsite, I saw that Hu Li was pacing about, his arms flailing as if swatting away gnats. 

The rest of the travelers had rolled up their blankets and slid their backpacks over their shoulders. Their eyes looked in every direction but the one where Hu Li paced. Talon sighed. The sound stopped Hu Li in his tracks. In fact, everyone else turned their head toward the monk.

“We have already been through all this.” He quietly announced, giving away no hint of emotion. “We track the goblins. We believe that their presence in the Wildlands is linked with both the rabid boars and the missing Jazzad.”

“Jazzad?!” shrieked Hu Li. “I keep forgetting! That’s right! We’re tracking down some lost ranger that none of us neither know nor have even ever seen! All based on the ramblings of a perpetually smashed weed peddler!”

“We are keeping a promise.” Lilian said. 

“You may leave at any time.” Gabriel added. 

“Bah!” Hu Li said after a short silence, flinging his hands up in utter exasperation. He bent down and grabbed up his backpack. He stopped when he spotted me at the edge of the camp. He shot up, then took a few steps toward me, a pale, crooked finger bent toward me. 

“What say you, Priest?” I could feel all eyes on me. “Do we track down the goblins in sketchy hope they will lead us to our goal, or do we continue our search by circumventing their stomping grounds and avoiding more raids?” 

“We have already decided…” Aesendal began, taking a step closer to me. “Leave Evora alone.” 

“NO!” shrilled Hu Li. “I want to hear his counsel! Tell us, oh Disciple of Canaan. Which way shall we go?” 

I looked toward the others. They averted my glances. Only Hu Li held my gaze. I considered the argument for a short time.

“If a Ranger is lost where he is most at home,” I began “Then it is clear that some harm has befallen him. If these goblins and boars are acting out of accordance to their natures, we must believe that the disappearance of the Ranger Jazzad is connected to what has been happening. We have little choice. Until some new evidence compels us to amend this, we must track the goblins.”

“Fine.” Said Hu Li. He was silent for the remainder of the morning.

Shale led us in following the goblin footprints. “I am no Ranger” he would say when the evidence of their passing grew scarce. “But I am doing what I can.” 

Late in the day, we had come to a standstill. Shale scoured the ground, bent over, pushing the tall grass aside, checking every blade with extreme diligence. At last he stood and scratched his head.

“They are gone.” Shale said, perplexed. 

“No.” Snapped Hu Li. “You have lost them. Which is just as well. This was a fool’s errand. I suggest, no, I demand we give up this folly and attempt… ” 

Gabriel growled. “Enough, Jordan.”

“That is the Acolyte Hu Li!!!” 

Talon calmly approached Shale. 

“If I may suggest...” He began. “Does not the Green grant you the power to converse with natural beasts?”

Shale put his hand to his forehead and sighed. “Of course! I’m such a fool!” 

Moments later a small blue and yellow feathered bird was fluttering in front of Shale. The grass around him seemed to catch the rays of the low hanging sun, causing each and every blade to shine brilliantly. 

The two shared chirps for a few moments, and then the bird turned and fluttered away. 

“She has seen the goblins. She knows where they are.” Shale said to the rest of us. 

“And we’re going the other way, yes?” Hu Li asked.

He was dutifully ignored. 

Shale took off running after the small bird. Lilian and Gabriel were right behind him. Aesendal and Shale strode side by side. Hu Li stomped incredulously a few paces in front of me. I struggled to keep up, pulling my encumbered, fatigued donkey with as much firmness and compassion as I could. 

I realized around this time that I had failed to give my poor beast of burden a name. I made myself a promise to rectify that by the day’s end. Unfortunately for my donkey, the bizarre events of the remainder of the day would force me to delay that promise. 

The little bird led us to a cave at the top of a vast canyon that split the landscape for such a length it could not be measured by a mere glance.

The cave’s narrow opening yawned up from an otherwise nondescript grassy mound. Had it not been for the bird excitingly hovering over it, we would have never taken notice. Once Shale had led us to the opening, the bird immediately flew away. The canyon was alive with rich, echoing sounds of life; bird caws, splashes and even a few roars. 

Hu Li pushed his way past Shale and stood atop the mound. He looked straight down. “The cliffs are sheer and over one hundred feet to the floor. Much of the floor is broken with marsh land. There’s also a strange rock formation jetting out at the far end on the canyon. Hm.” He turned back to us. “Who here can climb?” 

No one answered. 

“Just as I thought!” He remained up top the mound, his already tall, narrow, bone white frame back lit by the setting sun. His face was featureless and blackened by deep shadows that fell over his head. 

“Lilian, you know I am not one to judge, nor do I wish to cause any fraying of morale in what is already a tense situation.” Hu Li’s usually high pitched squeal was deadened, lowered, darkened. 

“But you have led us to nothing. We are stopped here and can go no further.  Jazzad is dead. He is fodder for the Eyeless Hollow Ones. We must accept this and return to Goldfire Glen immediately. We will inform Menion and have a swift but appropriately emotional funeral for the fallen Ranger. We have already lost Boots to this madness! I demand we turn around and return to civilization immediately!” 

“We could climb down the cave opening.” Said Lilian, who had listened patiently to everything Hu Li spewed, but, clearly, refused to bestow any real credence to his words. 

“Do we have rope?” Asked Talon, moving over to her. 

The two peered down the hole. 

“It’s quite dark.” Said Lilian.

I took the wound up hemp rope off of the saddle of my donkey and headed over to the cave opening. I could feel Hu Li’s eyes following me disapprovingly. 

“Fine!” he spat. “Fine! If we all wish to die, then so be it! Just remember that I warned you all!” 

I handed the rope to Lilian. “I was told it was fifty feet in length when I purchased it. But, I must admit, I have little skill with tying knots.” I told her. 

The rope was quickly yanked out of her hands by Gabriel who had suddenly sprung up beside her. He and Talon went to work, securing one end of the rope to a rock near the edge of the cliff. Finished, Gabriel moved back to his sister. Aesendal stepped forward, a lit torch in his hand. He turned to me.

“Sorry, Evora. I got it from your donkey. I figured we needed it.” I only shrugged and stepped aside as he moved up to the cave opening. He winked at Lilian and dropped the torch down the opening. We jostled for position to get a good view of the show. 

The torch struck a landing some thirty feet down and bounced out of sight. It’s glow lit the jagged landing enough for us to see. Lilian nodded and turned to Gabriel. 

“You stay up here and keep the rope taut. Be ready to pull.” She said, then turned to Talon. “You go down first. Stay close to the rope and if there is danger, let us know and we’ll pull you up.” Then, looking at me, she added, “Evora, I’m sorry, but your donkey will have to stay up here.”

“Canaan will watch and protect him.” I said.

Talon grabbed hold of the rope and began his climb down. 

Within a few minutes we were all down in the cave. Talon had assured us that there was no immediate danger and Lilian hastened us on. Hu Li protested as one after another we all scaled down to the landing. 

“This is madness!” he repeated. “Jazzad is dead! And soon we’ll all be!” 

No one listened. 

Beyond the landing, a stony corridor declined slightly into darkness. The original torch was stuck about half way down. Aesendal sprang forward and grabbed it. He and Hu Li spoke a few quick arcane words. A sparkling, translucent field of mage armor floated around each of them. 

We crept along through the darkness, Lilian leading us, her blade thrust forward. Aesendal was just behind her. Next was Gabriel, then myself, Shale, Hu Li and finally Talon. 

The floor of the cave was covered with a soft, pungent slime. Hu Li chirped with excitement. 

“Bat guano! And in such abundance! Had I access to the evocations of the Third Valence, I would be able to conjure up endless exploding balls of fire!” 

Suddenly, drops of shadow began to rain down over us. It struck Aesendal’s torch and the light was immediately snuffed out. Lilian froze. 

“There is evil here.” She said. 

Aesendal muttered “_Lumos_!” But the darkness only grew.

Fear seized me. I prayed to Canaan to grant me sanctuary. He heard my cry, for I felt dark, fleshy tendrils reaching out, trying to grab me, but they passed by me and I remained unharmed.

Hu Li screamed. “This is most unpleasant!” 

I heard him fall to the floor. 

There were shouts and Lilian let loose a battle cry. 

A moment later, a ball of light emanated from Aesendal’s palm and the cavern was flooded with light. Hu Li lay unconscious on the floor along side a fleshy, black, tendriled horror. 

“A darkmantle.” Sighed Shale. “Hu Li is paralyzed and will be for some time.” 

I hurried over to Hu Li. He was still alive, but was fading fast. His breathing was labored and erratic. I called upon Canaan’s Grace and placed my hands upon Hu Li. He remained unconscious, but his breathing relaxed and normalized.

Talon and Gabriel lifted his tall frame and we all made haste down the cave. The ground became damp with muddied, moss clogged water. 

The last dying rays of the day’s sun poured through an opening up ahead. We emerged in a thick, wet, mass of grass far taller than even Hu Li. 

Before I knew it, all sense of direction was lost to me. I called out for help. Soon all of us were yelling for each other. 

Lilian cried out. “Everyone stop moving! Just keep calling out.” 

I obeyed. 

The grass rustled behind me. I turned and hands grabbed me. I was pulled into the grass by Gabriel. He let me go and yelled. 

“Lilian! We’re over here! I have Evora, Hu Li and Talon!” 

After several minutes of yelling out to each other, we were all together, but the grass still walled us in on all sides. Water was seeping through my boots. The sun set. Night closed in and we stood there staring at each other, at a loss. 

“We can’t make camp here.” Said Lilian. “It’s too wet.” 

“What was that?” Shale asked. 

We all got very quiet. 

“I heard it, too.” Said Aesendal. “Sounds like a dog barking.” 

That’s when I heard it. A dog’s urgent barks, and they were coming closer. We heard splashes and a second later, a beautiful, yellow furred hound broke through the grass walls. It wagged its tail and disappeared back into the overgrowth. 

Without a word, we all followed. Talon and Gabriel carried Hu Li. 

The moist ground finally began to give way to dry ground. 

Exhausted, spent, and feeling a little foolhardy, we all collapsed into a hasty camp. The dog kept watch over us the entire night. 

The following morning, immediately after my morning prayers, I called upon Canaan’s healing grace for Hu Li. This time, his eyes fluttered open. He looked at me, began to smile, but then sighed and frowned.

“Damn. It’s you.” He said. 

The dog began to bark incessantly, urgently. 

“What is that horrible noise?” Hu Li asked, holding his head. “What happened to me?” 

There was no time to explain. Gabriel pulled the wizard to his feet and we were off, chasing after the hound, who would often stop and look back to us, making sure we were still following.

The dog finally stopped at a short mound. We all came to a sudden halt. I grabbed hold of my mace and Lilian unsheathed her sword. 

There on the mound was a naked, mud caked man, wearing the severed, hollowed out head of a boar over his face. 

The dog bounded up next to him. The man reached out a hand and the dog licked it, excitedly. 

“I am the Boar King!” The man shouted. 

Lilian stepped forward. “We are looking for a Ranger, Jazzad. Do you know of him?”

“I am the Boar King!” The man repeated. 

“I am the Acolyte, Hu Li!” Hu Li shouted back.

The man became agitated. He began to dance around.

“I am the Boar King!” The man repeated. 

“I am the Acolyte, Hu Li!”

“I am the Boar King!”

“I am the Acolyte, Hu Li!”

“I am the Boar King!” 

“I am the Acolyte, Hu Li!” 

“I am the Boar King!” 

“I am the Acolyte, Hu Li!” 

“I am the Boar King!” 

“Enough of this!” Hu Li said. “_Domiere_!” 

The wild man stopped his dance and fell onto his face, fast asleep.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 6: Dire Omens*

The dog started barking wildly, licking at the fallen, masked man between pawing and butting his snout up against him. We all stood there, uncertain what to do next. Gabriel glared at Hu Li, “What?” Hu Li said. “I got him to stop his yammering!”

Lilian took a step forward, her hands outstretched toward the dog. It growled at her, bearing an ample row of teeth. She stopped. 

“We don’t want to hurt you.” She said. 

The dog melted into a spasm of infuriated barks. Rows of hair behind its head stood up. His eyes, wide and white with fury, flew passed each of us. Though a small creature, he was more than capable of intimidating his foes. 

“Let me acid the mutt!” Growled Aesendal. “And his touched master!” 

“No!” Commanded Shale. 

The druid moved forward. He began muttering softly. The dog faced him, bent low on his haunches and continued his tirade of barks. The ground at Shale’s feet budded tiny, hair thin weeds. A soft wind caressed us like a mother’s hand. 

The dog’s attention turned entirely on Shale. His barking only intensified, but he stopped pacing. The two were locked in some kind of conversation. Shale broke from it with a start.

“This is Jazzad!” He said, pointing to the fallen wild man. “And this hound is his animal companion.”

The dog finally stopped barking. He sat down next to his master and let out a pitiful sigh. Shale approached him and patted the dog on his forehead. The tail wagged mournfully. 

Lilian gave a sigh. Hu Li harrumphed. Gabriel and Talon both stepped over to Shale. I stepped up to Lilian, while Aesendal stood back, still glaring at the dog. 

“You found him.” I quietly said to her. 

“But in such a state.” She answered, shaking her head. “He’s completely mad.” 

“Yes!” purred Hu Li, an unnerving grin slicing across his cheeks. “As shall we all be if we stay here a moment longer! This place is cursed! Rampaging boars! Bedeviled rangers! What hope have we if this steward of the wilds falls prey to what avails this land! We must turn back now! Tell Menion of his friend’s fate, or else we shall all share in it!” 

“Ails.” Talon said blankly. “Not avails.” 

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!” Howled Hu Li, his face as flushed as an overripe pomegranate. 

“Quiet!” roared Gabriel. “We’re not going to just leave him here. He’s sick. He needs our help.” 

“Evora.” Talon called out. “Is there anything you can do?” 

I looked at Lilian. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward the rest of them. 

Gabriel had bent over the man and removed the boar’s head mask. He, Talon and Aesendal gathered around, examining it. The dog stayed near Shale and Jazzad. 

Hu Li skulked over to the two monks and the sorcerer. 

“Let me see!” I heard him whine. “If that hollowed out head is in some way bewitched, only I, the Acolyte Hu Li will have the knowledge to counter its effects.” 

I surveyed Jazzad’s slumbering body. Short of a few indigo bruises and small scabbed over cuts, he seemed in perfect health. He was completely nude, but his unmentionables were covered in thick clumps of dead leaf and grass laden mud. The color of his hair was uncertain, as it, too, was caked with mud and dirt. 

“He appears to be in good physical health.” I said. “However, it is clear he has been living in this state for some time.” 

“Perhaps he was bewitched by the same enigmatic source that has possessed the boars.” Shale said as he petted Jazzad’s dog. The dog’s tail wagged playfully. 

Lilian knelt down beside me. She sighed. I could feel her warm breath tumble down my left shoulder. 

“Can you help him?” She asked. 

“I do not think so.” I shamefully replied. “We should keep him… bound, or sedated. For his own protection. Clearly he is not himself.” 

Gabriel and Talon must have heard me, for a moment later, they were rolling Jazzad on his side, binding his wrists and ankles with their belts. I looked over to Aesendal and Hu Li just as the pale wizard was throwing down the hollowed out boar’s head he has been studiously studying. 

“Nothing more than tanned hide.” He said in disgust. “I’m taking a walk.” He announced to no one in particular and stomped off. Aesendal watched him go, shaking his head. He moved over to help Talon and Gabriel secure the unconscious ranger. 

Lilian, Shale and I all stood up and moved a few paces away to give them some room. “Are we to carry him all the way back to Goldfire Glen?” Shale asked.

“I see no other alternative.” Answered Lilian. She lifted her eyes to the sun and let out a long sigh. “What is happening?” 

“I do not know.” Shale said after a moment’s consideration of the question. “Some power is at work here. What it is and what it wants, however, remains unclear.” 

Just then, Hu Li appeared huffing out of the tall grass. His head was hunched forward. His usual pale features appeared even chalkier. His eyes were wide and red with fear. When he spotted me looking at him, his features softened, he straightened in an unconvincing attempt to gather himself together. “Well, let’s be off then.” He said, having noticed that Jazzad was very well secured. “We have what we came for. No other reason to remain.” 

“What did you see?” Asked Gabriel striding over the wizard. 

“Grass. Rock. Mud. Water. A few gnats.” Hu Li answered, his voice breaking. No one believed him.

All eyes fell on Lilian, who was taking in Hu Li with a maternal gentleness. The wizard slightly shook. 

“What has frightened you so, Hu Li?” She finally asked. 

Hu Li dropped his jaw in feigned offense. Lilian lowered her chin and stepped up to him. He could not take his eyes off of her. His mouth closed and his lower lip began to tremble. 

“What is out there?” She asked him again. 

He lowered his eyes in defeat. 

“I am sure it is nothing.” He whispered. 

“Show us.” She gently ordered. 

We followed Hu Li through the overgrowth for a few minutes. The ground was littered with small rocks that kept creeping up into my boots. I ignored the pain, trying to keep pace with the rest of them.

When the grass gave way, we found ourselves near the far end of the canyon. That strange outcropping of rock Hu Li saw at the cliff was now standing majestically ahead of us. 

“It’s that!” he said, pointing a trembling finger at it. 

“It’s just a big rock.” Said Aesendal. 

“No.” snapped Hu Li. “Come closer.” 

He beckoned us on. When we reached the shadow of the outcropping he stopped. I gasped. Everyone stopped and turned back toward me. I saw what had shaken the wizard. 

The large outcropping was, in reality, an ancient, weathered statue. Much of the detail had been worn away by countless years of decay. The few discernable features that remained appeared to me almost melted, but what remained clear were the clawed fingers and toes of the being depicted. 

There were six instead of five. I took in what remained of the face. It had once been handsome, but cruel. The eyes were smoothed away and the mouth and nose appeared to be shorn off. Two time-smoothed horns protruded from the forehead. 

“Who is it?” Lilian asked me, her voice betraying a slight tremor. 

“Not who. What.” I said. “Graz’zt. A demon lord.” 

“Shhh!” said Hu Li, rushing over to me and covering my mouth. “To speak his name…” His voice trailed off. He let go of me and moved to Lilian. “So now you know what I saw. Now we may….”

“There’s some kind of entrance over here!” Shouted Talon, who had surged forward to the statue and began searching around. 

“Oh, good.” Muttered Hu Li through clinched teeth. Lilian, Gabriel, Shale and Aesendal all joined Talon at the base of the statue. 

Hu Li and I remained behind. He glared at the clump of them for a moment, then turned to me. 

“Fools. One and all.” He said. “You know what this thing is. You know nothing good will come of snooping around here.” 

I had no choice but to agree with Hu Li. I knew of Graz’zt. Those in his thrall were beautiful to behold, but they used their beauty to corrupt, seduce and manipulate others into doing their dark lord’s bidding. A statue of this demon lord, even a half destroyed one, was far from an omen of fair tidings. For all we knew, the opening Talon had uncovered lead into a temple dedicated to every form of decadence and profanity known and unknown. It may even still be in use. 

I broke from Hu Li and hurried forward. Talon, Gabriel and Shale were digging at a clump of loosened earth that surrounded a narrow opening in the base on which the horrid statue stood. 

“What do we hope to gain from disturbing this place?” I asked Lilian. Shale answered for her. 

“A clue as to what is affecting the boars and Jazzad.” 

I looked back to Hu Li, who was reluctantly inching his way closer to us. He had swallowed his lips and tightly clinched his jaw. 

“Shale says we may…” I began. 

“I heard.” He spat. “And if we do, what then? Are we equipped to better a true servant of this fiend?” 

“It doesn’t appear anyone has been here for quite some time.” Shale said softly. 

“Even better!” snapped Hu Li. “That means we’re not dealing with a someone, but a something! If this find is related to these current events, we may be after something far worse than a misguided thrall. We may uncover the Prime Material lair of an imp, or a vrock or a marilith, or worse.” 

“I think we have cleared enough away.” Said Talon. Indeed, a good sized portion of dirt, some four or five feet’s worth, had been upended to make room for anyone willing to slide into the threshold. 

The dark opening sank passed into the ground. Aesendal evoked a ball of _light_, bent down at the mouth of the opening and pushed his hand in. It lit a floor some ten feet below. Little more could be made out at our angle. 

Aesendal turned his palm over and the ball of _light_ bounced into the opening. I gave Aesendal a quizzical look. 

“Why did you need a torch at the cliff?” I asked him. 

“I didn’t want to waste a spell.” He said simply. “Besides, your donkey carries all the remaining torches. No one thought to bring any more along. And he’s still waiting for us by the cliff.” 

“Another mistake.” I thought. Hu Li will surely hold that against Lilian as well. We’ll all hear about it the entire way back to Goldfire Glen, I was sure of it. 

Gabriel was the first to slip into the opening. Lilian followed. Talon went next, followed closely by Shale and Aesendal. I looked back at Hu Li who despondently shrugged his shoulders, shook his head and dropped down past me. I was right behind him. 

Lit by Aesendal’s glowing arcane sphere of _light_ was a small chamber, no more than twenty feet by twenty feet. In its center was a great stone rectangular altar. Beside it stood a four foot pedestal topped with a flat plate about the size of a birdbath. Clearly this was a temple. 

The others stood aside when I entered, given that I was a priest and was assumed to be the expert on such things. 

“What is that pedestal for?” Lilian asked me. I moved up to it. The round plate was perfectly smooth and round. Crafted with great care, but not much flourish. I let out a sudden gasp. It was a pure reaction. 

I spotted Hu Li jumping out of the corner of my eye.

“Don’t do that!” He hissed. 

“What is it?” Shale asked. “What do you see?”

What startled me was a thin line of silver powder that rounded the entire rim of the plate. One small portion of the otherwise perfect circle of silver had been brushed away. I recalled from my unauthorized studies ways to cage extra-dimensional beings using such methods, but, as this find proved, the cages were fragile at best. A strong enough wind could break the bond.

I looked over at Hu Li who was pressed up against a wall. I barely had the heart to say what I must, as he was clearly distraught enough as it was, but they needed to know.

“Something was kept here.” I said. I could feel the sharp swallows and rising tensions of the group behind me. “Was. This line here is silver powder. It is used in a ritual to bar the path of creatures summoned or conjured from other planes. Devils and demons and their ilk. It can also be reversed as well, in order to encage said fiends, so long as the circle remains unbroken. However this circle has been… disturbed. Whatever was kept here has escaped.” 

“So, we have some errant demon gallivanting about the country side!” Said Hu Li. “This day just keeps getting better and better!” 

“The pedestal is rather small.” I said in a pitiful attempt to soothe nerves. “The creature was most likely an imp or a quasit or something like that. Perhaps a mephit. They are mostly harmless.” 

“Mostly?” Snapped Hu Li. “What ratio of harmless would that be exactly, most learned priest?” 

“Evora!” Shale called from the altar. “Do you know what this says?” I moved over to him. Carved into the stone of the altar were strange runes. They slashed and curled into the stone like great gashes. The letters were foreign to me. 

“I do not know what language this is.” I told Shale. 

“Hu Li!” Shale said. “Can you read this?” 

Hu Li pressed himself further up against a wall. His eyes darted to the entrance and back to the altar. 

“Hu Li.” Lilian commanded. “Help them. See if you can decipher that writing.” 
The wizard’s stark features softened a wisp when his glare met Lilian’s. His shoulders slumped like a punished child and he detached himself from the wall and sauntered over to the altar. When his gaze met the writing he recoiled. 

“It is draconic!” He said. 

“And?” said Aesendal. “That is the language of magic. Why the dramatics?” 

Hu Li continued to read. He shook his head. His eyes slammed shut. He held his hands to his ears and went down on one knee.

“Oh, for Canaan’s sake!” said Gabriel. “What does it say?” 

“We must leave!” Hu Li insisted. “Now. This place was not meant to be disturbed! We must leave, now!” 

Hu Li ran for the entrance. He scurried up the short dirt hill and vanished beyond. 

“Hey.” Said Talon. “I found a doorway over here.” He was standing in the small space between the pedestal and the altar. His hands were pressed up against the wall. 

“I think I can manage to push it open, with some help.” 

Outside, Hu Li was heard screaming. 

Lilian was the first out. Gabriel and Shale were right behind her. Aesendal and I scampered through the entrance within seconds of each other. When I cleared the entrance I could make out what Hu Li was shouting. 

“FOOLS! DO YOU ALL WANT TO DIE? WHY DO WE STAY? I TOLD YOU! WE ALL MUST LEAVE NOW! WHAT IS BURIED THERE WISHES TO REMAIN…”

He stopped and covered his mouth with both hands. 

“Idiot, Hu Li. Idiot!” I heard him muttering. 

Lilian, breathless, caught up to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hu Li, please. What is there? What was that altar?”

He clamped his lips down under his teeth and shook his head. 

“Just tell us.” Commanded Gabriel, who stood behind his sister. “I grow tired of your outbursts.” 

We all gathered around him. He shot us each a terrified glare. Talon had emerged from the chamber and joined the rest of us. 

Hu Li remained insistent. 

“We must leave here now. I must return to my master. I must return to Balian. He will know what to make of this.”

“Tell us now! What was written on the altar, Jordan?” Gabriel shouted. 

“That is the ACOLYTE HU LI!! And it was NO ALTAR! IT WAS A COFFIN!” 

The shaken arcanist slapped his hands over his mouth again, shook his head and said no more. He swiftly stomped back in the direction of the now walking, but bound Jazzad.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Interlude:  Veshra's Message*

Hail to the Axis of Annihilation! The Darkest Night is nigh! Preparations for the unholy ritual are nearly complete. Even now, our unwitting dupes, the Orcus priest, his dark champion and their Aquan concubine travel to Goldfire Glen. The unsuspecting Canaanite fools, on their damnable journey to collect the Enlightened Child, have by now, surely been slain. 

Canaan is dead! Long live the Master! 

Canaan thought himself clever to conceal His incarnation in that forgettable hamlet, Goldfire Glen. Perhaps He considered its proximity to the shadow of that unctuous withered old fart, Balian the Ever-Watchful. Hah! His powers and influence have surely atrophied over the last century, and the success of my plan shall prove it! 

The streets of Goldfire Glen shall become a river of blood and despair! Their temples shall collapse and shatter along side the bones of His ghastly Inquisitors, arrogant Justicars and all His meek, innocent, foolish worshippers. Blind they are, and blind they shall forever be! 

The Light of the Great Thief, Canaan, shall at long last fade beyond memory and Turgos, His most precious creation, shall be no more! 

By the time those Orcus worshipping fools discover that they have been deceived, it will be much too late. My Master, having fed on the soul of the 
Canaan's next mortal incarnation, will rise, again! Canaan. What a fool! A child! A child! It is too easy! Ha!

Glory to the Chthonic Alliance! 

All is going as planned! 

I will admit, however, that the appearance of the succubus Caladriel troubles me. I cannot fathom why one such as her freed one such as me. She claimed to be bound to do a mortal's bidding and in that service freed me, but refused to divulge who that mortal was. Something about her wasn't quite right. Her demeanor was not one of servant or slave. She seemed far too, well, happy to be trapped on this horrendous plane. I suppose she could be the mortal's concubine and serves willingly only to corrupt his soul for her abyssal magnate and take it to her lord on his death. 

Still. I cannot shake the feeling that her true role in this has yet to be revealed. I suspect she is a spy. But for whom? Orcus? Is he wary of a plan? Is his enmity toward my master still fresh as it was a century ago? Unfortunately, as cut off as I am here in 
this detestable world, I have no means of ascertaining her loyalties and allegiances. 
So for now, I must put it out of my head. I must not jeopardize my Master’s 
return. 

My plan is brilliant! It is pure diabolical perfection! I am destined for infamy! Even the great Bel himself will bow before me! The Orcus worshippers will reap all the fury and none will know of my Master's return until his glorious ascension is complete. 

I must take care, however. Even now forces are moving against me. I must remain vigilant. Urgency is of the essence. 

It was only by instinct that I discovered that mortal ranger hiding out, watching, as Caladriel freed me. I couldn't possibly imagine the damage he could have done had he successfully relayed that information to the Canaanites. He is of no consequence now. Mad as a Slaad, he is, thanks to those delirium-inducing mushrooms growing in my Master's sepulcher. I have no knowledge as to when or how they came to be. They certainly were not there when the cairn was raised and I was imprisoned. I am not altogether certain that they are even of this world. 

Perhaps they were a fancy of that cur Balian; wretched creature. But for his meddling, my Master would be ascendant now. He is our most tenacious and powerful enemy. I must take care not to alert him to my activity or all is lost.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 7: Balian's Tower*

I hurried to catch up with Hu Li. He had stepped up to Jazzad, who was pacing excitedly, the veins in his exposed arms bloated with effort as his muscles fought to tear his wrists free of the belts that bound them. The Ranger’s whole face was twisted in a feral grimace. Foam and spittle oozed down his chin, neck and bare chest. 

“Domiere.” Hu Li lazily uttered as he passed Jazzad. The Ranger’s legs buckled, his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground, again, out cold. 

I finally caught up with him. 

“Hu Li.” I said, wheezing from the effort of running. He shot an irritated glare at me. “I wanted to tell you, I agree with you. We are outmatched by whatever…”

“Good!” he said, curtly cutting me off. “You are wise, as a priest should be. Let’s be off then.” 

“And.,.” I began, but thoughts began to clumsily topple over one another in my head. I stood there, sputtering for a moment. Hu Li watched me, encased in a posture mixed with bemusement and impatience.

“Well?” He said, reminiscent of a town guard who had been dealing with a drunkard. “Spit it out, then.” 

I gave a quick look back over my shoulder and spotted the others closing in. They were still out of earshot, or at least I hoped they were. I quickly turned back to Hu Li.

“I would like an audience with your Master, Balian. A private one. If you could arrange it.” 

“Hu Li!” I heard Gabriel shout. “We have all agreed. You are correct. We should take Jazzad back to Menion. Our mission here is done.” 

Hu Li ignored the tallow haired monk. His eyes stabbed at me. They went from shock, to dubiousness, to a hint of jealously, and ultimately ending on something I interrupted as akin to victory. 

I shuddered. 

“I believe that can be arranged.” His shrill voice purred. 

Gabriel and Talon glided up to us. Jazzad’s dog, who had been sleeping, suddenly awoke and sprang past us, bolting for Shale. 

The two monks looked down at the sleeping ranger. 

“Still out?” Asked Gabriel, somewhat surprised. 

“Yes. Thanks to me.” Answered Hu Li with more than a little pride.

Talon sighed. He and Gabriel lifted the ranger up over their shoulders as the remainder of the band joined us.

“How many days back to Goldfire Glen is it?” asked Gabriel. 

“Several.” Lilian responded. 

“Hu Li, you have the power to keep him asleep the whole time?” I asked. 

“Well, no.” Hu Li answered, with a hint of embarrassment. “Only a few moments each day. We will have to find some alternative methods of keeping him sedated.”

“I think I will be able to handle that.” Talon said.

No one questioned him. In silence, we turned back east, back toward Auros. Back toward the Granite Bridge and Farmer Jed’s. Back toward civilization. I will admit, I was much relieved to be finally leaving what I had grown to feel was a beautiful, but awful place. 

“One moment.” We heard Shale say. 

“We have no moments to spare, druid!” Cracked Hu Li.

Shale had knelt down. He was tracing his hand over some trampled grass. 

“Tracks.” He said. “Footprints. They appear to be goblins.”

“Good!” Said Hu Li. “Then we can avoid them.”

But his voice betrayed a dread that there would be nothing of the kind. Shale led the charge, Jazzad’s dog at his heels, while Lilian, Aesendal, Talon, Gabriel, Hu Li and finally myself followed the goblins’ trail. 

Jazzad had begun to stir. Talon, who was grasping the ranger’s upper torso as Gabriel held onto the legs, deftly reached up to Jazzad’s neck. He gently pressed two of his fingers against the side of the neck, near the shoulder. Jazzad let out a sigh and stopped stirring.

Up ahead, Shale yelped. Something scurried through the tall grass. Shale was holding onto the side of his neck. I could see a thin needle protruding from betwixt the druid’s fingers. 

Lilian ran up to him. She pulled the needle out and placed her hand on the wound. 

Aesendal ran past both of them, intent on hunting down whatever was moving through the grass. Talon held onto Jazzad as Gabriel let go of the ranger’s legs and sprang after the sorcerer. 

I moved up to Shale. Lilian may have healed the wound with her touch, but the scab around was beginning to bubble. Shale reached a hand up to scratch it. I held up my hand to block him. 

“What is it?” He asked me. 

“I believe you have been poisoned.” I said. 

Shale nodded. He looked to Lilian, and then to me. 

“We must get out of here.” Lilian said. 

There was a hiss and a flash of green light. I could make out the outline of a translucent, glowing arrow sailing over the tops of the grass. It caught the small frame of a goblin who had suddenly leapt above the ceiling of the grass, its body flat, as if diving. 

Aesendal’s hand was outstretched, a fading green glow surrounding it.

“Got you!” he shouted. 

Gabriel ran forward to where the goblin fell. He stopped and turned back to us. He held up a finger to his lips and signaled all of us to get down. 

We obeyed. Lilian, Shale and I crawled forward. Moments later we met Gabriel and Aesendal who were both pushing aside some of the tall grass and peering out to what lay beyond. 

Talon and Hu Li stayed behind, keeping watch over Jazzad. 

“There is a village of some kind down in the gorge.” Aesendal whispered. “Small mud huts surrounding a wood pillar.”

“It’s the goblin’s home.” Shale said. He gritted his teeth and winced. We all looked to him.

“I am fine.” He said with some effort. “The poison is only making me a little dizzy.” 

“We need to go.” Lilian said. “We are in no condition to deal with a whole goblin village.” 

No one disagreed. 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Gabriel added. “Jordan is right. With everything that is happening, we need Balian’s counsel.” 

We hurried back to the dark, guano strewn cave. The darkmantle corpse had begun to rot. With much relief we found our rope still tied to the pit where we originally climbed down. With an even greater relief, my donkey at the top of the cliff, was still there. He had barely moved. Not a pinch of the supplies he carried on his back had been molested. Talon and Gabriel tied the slumbering Jazzad to the donkey’s saddle. 

The next few days went by in a blur. We barely stopped moving. We slept for only an hour at a rest. Prayers and morning rituals, even Hu Li’s necessity for study went ignored in the name of haste. 

Jazzad was kept sedated by Talon’s skillful touch. Shale’s condition stabilized. His eyes would mist over now and again, but he showed no signs of deterioration. 

We swept over the Granite Bridge, each, in turn, keeping to the tradition of discarding a pinch of salt for the spirit that legend claimed haunted there. 

Within an hour of passing the bridge, we smelled smoke. Acrid gray clouds hung bloated above the trees before us. Gabriel and Talon surged forward. Lilian and Aesendal followed. 
The smoke was rising from directly over Farmer Jed’s. 

Beyond exhausted, I felt Canaan’s presence around me. His power gave me strength, conviction and hope. Fatigue vanished. I clutched my mace and with a shout sprang ahead. 

Within moments I came onto another chaotic battle. Goblins, bearing chipped short blades and stone axes, hoarded around Farmer Jed’s cottage. Some were on the roof. Some were at the doors and windows, hacking at the thresholds with their axes. Lilian had felled many by the time I arrived, and she found herself surrounded. 

Talon and Gabriel were busy breaking through the goblins’ ranks, clearing a path to the cottage door. 

Aesendal took in a deep, chest inflating breath and instantly let it out. A stream of acid, the color of moldy bread, geysered from his open maw and bathed the goblins on the roof. They howled with pain and plummeted to the ground, their flesh eaten away.

I gave a shout and ran up to aid Lilian. At my cry and charge, a few of the goblins fled, but she was still greatly outnumbered. I clinched my mace and slammed it down on the head of the first goblin that I could reach. 

Its skull cracked like a robin’s egg and leaked out blood, bone and gore. Lilian’s blade slashed through the marauders. Her eyes were fixed, bloodshot and despite all the traveling and the lack of sleep, full of power. 

Within moments the sound of battle melted into the fading whoops and cries of the fleeing goblins. Talon and Gabriel had cut down many with their uncanny martial mastery. Aesendal was at the door, calling out to Farmer Jed and his family. 

The door swung open. The old farmer emerged with a pitchfork clutched in his white knuckled hands.

“They came out of nowhere.” He said, trembling. “We thought we were done for. How may I ever repay you?”

“I need two horses.” Answered Lilian. 

Without a word, Farmer Jed unbridled his cart horse and released another horse from the mill. 

Soon after, Lilian and Shale were off, riding with all the might their horses could muster for Goldfire Glen. Jazzad was tethered to Shale’s saddle. We had agreed to rendezvous outside Goldfire Glen in two days time. We needed rest and recuperation. 

Aesendal, Talon, Gabriel and even Hu Li all pitched in with gathering the goblin’s bodies in a big heap behind his farm. Farmer Jed splashed pitch on the fire and set it aflame. 

The grateful, provincial man opened his home to us. We dined on succulent boar meat. His lovely family soothed our bruises with sweet smelling salves and stinging hot, but calming teas. I fell asleep to a lullaby sang by Jed’s daughter. 

The following morning I awoke early to pray. I moved to a secluded spot east of the farm to catch the first rays of the sun as it rose. 

I was halfway to an old, comfortable looking stump of a tree when I tripped over something. 

“Please, master! I have had my fill of the tentacle room!” 

It was unmistakably Hu Li’s high pitched voice. I looked down to see my foot had caught his side. He woke with a shudder.

“Master?!” He blinked, looked around and spotted me staring at him. “Oh, it’s you.” He said.

“Why are you sleeping outside?” I asked.

Hu Li got to his feet, brushed off the wet grass and dirt from his white robes and grumbled.

“That fool farmer. I spooked him, I suppose and he banished me from his home.” 

“What did you do, Hu Li?” 

“I…” he began “… managed, when no one was looking to procure one of the heads of the fallen goblins. I secured it to one of the farmer’s pitchforks in his barn.”

My morning stomach churned. Whatever compassion I had for the wizard’s sleeping arrangements vanished with the story he told.

“And, given my limited knowledge of nature of death, I attempted to communicate with the newly deceased goblin’s spirit. To do so, I needed his head. It’s quite simple, really. A standard, quite common procedure, really.” 

“Did it work?” I asked, secretly horrified by my curiosity. 

Hu Li’s eyes fell to the floor. 

“No.” He admitted with derision. “But it would have if that idiot had not interfered. No matter. I want to be off. Be quick with your morning ritual, priest. Time is of the essence!” 

He stomped off. 

At the sun’s zenith on the following day, we reunited with Lilian. Shale was not with her. 

“He is resting with your master, Talon.” She told us. Her voice and face were lit with some inner glow, some aura of sheer happiness that I had never seen in her. I first thought it may have been the result of a good night sleep on a proper bed, but even her brother saw the change in her.

“Lilian.” He asked. “What has happened? You seem… blissful.”

“I will tell you later. We must be off to Balian’s.” she said. 

“Is it news of our parents?” Gabriel pushed.

“No, but it is joyous news, to be sure. I will tell you all after we visit Balian’s. I wish to know if his counsel will reflect the news I have just heard.” 

Talon and Aesendal stayed behind in Goldfire Glen. Aesendal wanted to check in on the Feisty Fox and Talon thought it was best to aid his master is watching over Shale. 

We left Lilian to her enigma and all traveled south, back to Balian’s twisted, moss ridden tower.

By noon the following day, it came into view. Hu Li sprang forward.

“Master!” He was shouting with glee. “I have returned!” 

Old fears crept back. I recalled the ill feelings that tower cast upon me the last time I entered its shadows. 

The stench of dung and rotting plants pummeled my nostrils and snaked down my throat. I swallowed the urge to gag. I was comforted to see, when I turned to the others, that they too we overcome with the sting of the noxious odors. Hands clasped over noses and mouths. Heads turned away from the wind. 

I heard the angry quacking of the ducks that called the tower’s moat their home. The quacks were soon joined by the creaking of the massive drawbridge being lowered to greet Hu Li who was at the edge of the moat, shouting and gesticulating madly. 

“We are here.” Said Gabriel, gravely. 

“Yes.” His sister answered. “I certainly hope this was the right thing to do.” 

Hu Li scrambled onto the drawbridge before it had completely lowered. He ran through the raised portcullis and vanished within. His voice echoed from the darkness.

“Master! My master! I have returned! I bring guests! I bring news! News most urgent! Most foul! You’ll love it!”

We crossed the lowered bridge. I was surprised and even a bit delighted to discover that the dread that greeted me on my last visit to the tower had yet to manifest itself. 

Gabriel, Lilian and I entered the tower. We all came to a sudden stop when we heard a booming, high-pitched, rancorous voice bellow. 

“APPRENTICE!” it said. “COME QUICK! MY SORES ARE IN DIRE NEED OF A GOOD LICKING!” 

We all looked at each other. Lilian’s words came instantly back to me. 

“I certainly hope this was the right thing to do.” 

In that moment I certainly shared her trepidation.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 8: Balian*

Lilian, Gabriel and I stood motionless under the darkness of the threshold to Balian’s Tower for an interminably long time. When she recalled this moment, Lilian admitted with deep humility and regret that she allowed fear to seize her. If, she told me, a little darkness and the eccentricities of an old man filled her with such a paralyzing dread, how would she fare against a genuine threat? She told me she had felt cowardly. I reassured her that courage is not the absence of fear, but the subjugation of fear. 

The moment we stepped into the foyer, our fears were duly caged.

Lit candles held in brass sconces the shape of writhing serpents illuminated a rug strewn stone staircase. I heard a labored scraping coming from the archway that yawned just beyond the landing at the top of the stairs. 

Gabriel strode ahead of us, bounding up the stairs. 

“Jordan?” He called. “Is everything alright?” 

Lilian sprang up next to her brother and I followed behind. Gabriel stopped just shy of the landing as a small, hunched over figure emerged from the shadows behind the archway. 

It was unlike any creature I had ever seen. Its head was as round as a pumpkin. A bloated nose grew from its pinched, jowly face like an egg-shaped boil. Its eyes were all but submerged under loose draperies of grey skin. The mouth hung in a permanent frown, weighed down by waves of heavy flesh. 

Its hands dragged along the stone floor, rendering the knuckles into splintering mounds of white calluses. 

A bulbous belly sank over stout, dumpy legs. 

All told, it stood maybe three feet tall. Dressed in blue and purple fineries as fitted its station as the tower’s yeoman, it greeted us with a sigh and an exhausted, simple… “Welcome to the Tower of Balian, the Everwatchful. I am Orolde, the Master’s Caretaker. I have been instructed to show you to your rooms.” 

“That is not necessary.” Gabriel said. “Where is Jordan?” 

One of Orolde’s eyes popped out from under the folds of skin. It gazed at Gabriel, confused. 

“The Acolyte Hu Li.” Lilian corrected for Gabriel. 

“Ah.” The servant answered with a sigh. “He is with the Master, performing his apprentice duties. They must not be disturbed. Please, follow me.” 

Gabriel stepped up to the little creature, clearly in a mind to bully, but I took hold of his shoulder. 

“Gabriel, please.” I whispered. “I too am far from comfortable here. But this is the man’s home. We must not be rude.”

Gabriel gave me a sidelong glance. His features did not soften a wisp, but after a moment, he silently nodded and allowed the little creature to lead us down the corridor. 

The ceiling was arched, like a cathedral’s. Great candelabras hung from invisible hooks above us, lighting our way. The air was stale and smelled of wax, but it was warm and free from the biting winds we had endured for the past week. 

“What manner of being are you?” I heard Lilian ask Orolde. Her voice echoed, bouncing about the austere hallway. 

“What?” Answered Orolde, betraying an insult. “I am a gnome! You mean to say that you have never seen a gnome before?”

“I am afraid not.” Humbly retorted Lilian. “I meant no insult. I was merely curious.”

Orolde said no more. He led us up a steep set of stairs and passed another yawning archway. The short hall was lit with a single candle at the far end. The tiny flame gave off enough light to brighten the whole alcove. Two black iron reinforced wooden doors stood on either wall. 

Curious of the candle, I stepped up to it. I put my hand over the flame. 

“Stop!” commanded Orolde. “Touch nothing!”

“Amazing.” I said. No heat emanated from the flame. It was as warm as the rest of the halls. I turned back to the others, a smile smeared on my face. I wiped it away when I met Gabriel, Lilian and Orolde’s shocked glares. 

“Forgive me.” I muttered and, eyes cast to the floor, rejoined them. 

“These are your rooms. The Master cares not which ones you choose. Dinner will be served in the main hall in two hours. Please, do not be late.” 

With that, the gnome turned and wobbled back down the staircase. Lilian called out to him. 

“We do not intend to stay long.” She said. 

“The extent of your stay is solely at the discretion of the Master.” Answered Orolde, as if by rote. 

“We are prisoners then?” Fumed Gabriel.

“You are guests of the Master.” Said Orolde, flatly.

I turned to Gabriel. 

“Calm yourself, Gabriel.” I told him. “This Balian is strange, to be sure, but I sense no evil intent.”

“Neither do I.” Lilian added. “I do not believe we are in any danger here.” 

“Fine.” Bit Gabriel. “But I refuse to stay a moment longer than needed. We endure the counsel of this… madman, and then we’re off.” 

Two hours later, we had gathered in the great hall for dinner. A solitary long rectangular table, festooned with an ivory white cloth and sparkling silverware, awaited us. Large golden discs, smothered in succulent meats, piles of fruit and steaming breads covered the table. Jewel laden lead goblets were filled with honey wine. A high back, cushioned bronze chair, encrusted with elegant, colorful jewels was placed at the head of the table. 

Orolde scampered around the table as we entered, straightening the place settings and measuring the height of the piles of fruit. 

“Can’t be too high.” We heard him muttering to himself. “Master says all it takes is a quarter of an inch to go from glorious to garish.” 

Upon seeing us, Orolde bowed low, his bulbous head scratching across the floor with a stony scrape and he left without a word.

The three of us sat down and a moment later a tall, narrow door at the far end of the hall swung open. Hu Li emerged, gave us all a quick nod and cursory look, and hastily sat down at a chair closest to the far end.

The tall door remained open. All eyes were turned to it. We sat transfixed, staring that the heavy shadows that loomed beyond the narrow threshold.

“Hello.” 

The sharp voice snapped us out of our trance and we all jumped. It came from the door we entered. We all turned to see an eerily gaunt, towering figure, drowned in layered gray robes standing under the archway. He stood easily a head and shoulder above even Hu Li. His flesh was almost chalky in complexion and pulled tight against his skull and hands, the only parts of his body that escaped from under his attire. 

He stood at the door way, leaning on a twisted staff, giving us what I can only assume was a welcoming smile. His thin lips were pulled to the side of one cheek, curled into rivulets that appeared almost painful. 

“You, of course, know who I am. So, I need not introduce myself. I, on the other hand, have no clue as to who any of you are.”

His eyes first landed on Lilian’s fair frame. 

She stood and bowed. 

“I am Lilian Evenshire. Champion of Canaan in service to Goldfire Glen.”

“Canaan!” Balian said, his smile broadening. “Good! Right jolly fellow, if you ask me. Quite agreeable when you get Him in the right mood, as far as deities go. His followers can be another breed of beast entirely, though.” 

All eyes went to me. Hu Li stifled a laugh. 

Balian slowly crept over to the end of the table. Gabriel introduced himself, but Balian ignored him. 

As he passed, I swallowed an urge to gasp. I saw that his heavy robes did not entirely cover everything after all. His back was exposed. Eight ghastly round wounds that perpetually leaked yellow and dead green viscous broke his powdery flesh. The wizard must have sensed my reaction, for he turned his head back, glaring at me. 

“And who are you?” He spat. I sputtered out some incomprehensible reply. 

Strange, I thought, after counseling Lilian and Gabriel on their behavior, that I should be so affected by this man’s presence. Strange, too, that I never felt flustered or at a loss for dignity when I faced down those stern, impassive glares of the Curia. 

Balian’s affect on me was instantaneous. I tremble as I write these words, for they border on blasphemy, but I cannot bring myself to water down any truths. 

Had he asked me, I would have worshipped this man. 

His eyes lowered to the Canaan Cross I bore. 

“Ah, forgive me, Priest. I did not realize my apprentice brought in one of Canaan’s earthly denizens.” 

“No offense taken.” I answered. “Master Balian, believe me, I understand from where you speak.”

His eyes narrowed, but not with displeasure. In that moment it was as if he considered who and what I was, and was satisfied that he needed to learn no more. He sat at the tall back chair at the head of the table. 

“I could help you with those sores, Master Balian.” I said. 

Hu Li’s eyes widened. Lilian and Gabriel gave each other a quick glance, suppressing smiles. 

“Help me?” Balian retorted. “You mean heal them? Why on Turgos would I want you to heal them? They are mine!” 

I looked away from Balian, my face flushing. I had offended him. I had offended my Master, I heard myself thinking. What had come over me? Did I indeed intend to be tutored by this shriveled husk of a man? What had he instilled in me in this initial, informal meeting? I began to silently, internally pray to Canaan for guidance and succor. 

So distracted, I missed most of the conversation over the meal. 

Hu Li had finally divulged what was written on the sarcophagus under the stature of Graz’zt: 

“Here lies the condemned diabolist Kharas’Vhoories. His crimes are as innumerable as the stars. Let no one disturb this place under the penalty of death and eternal suffering in the world beyond.” 

Kharas’Vhorries, Balian explained to us, was a powerful devil worshipping wizard who Balian was instrumental in defeating a century ago. 

Something did not add up for me. Above the tomb was a statue of Graz’zt, a Demon Lord. Demons and Devils, as I learned in the nights I indulged such forbidden knowledge, are bitter, eternal rivals. They never commingled in a theosophical sense. 

“Yes.” Slithered Balian when I brought up the anomaly. “I placed that statue there.” He said with a slight, unnerving laugh in his voice. “As a joke. Do you like?”

“Oh, most clever, Master.” Hu Li sycophantically bloated. 

Lilian, myself and Gabriel were at a loss.

“I am not following you.” Lilian said.

“Oh, well, you see, Kharas’Vhoories was in all appearances a worshipper of Orcus. But he only gave lip service to the Demon Lord of the Undead. His true allegiance was with the Devil Princes of Hell. They granted him his immortal servant, the detestable imp, Veshra.” 

“Veshra?” Lilian asked. “What is Veshra?”

“The imp!” Balian said, with a growing irritation. “On the pillar, held by the circle of silver powder. I am sure it tried to lure you into releasing it. Appeared as a little girl in tatters, begging for your mercy. Bah!” 

“The circle had been disturbed.” I said. “It was broken. There was no imp. It was released before we arrived.” 

“WHAT?!” Thundered Balian. His glare daggered into Hu Li who sunk into his chair. “AND YOU DID NOT FEEL THE NEED TO TELL ME THIS, APPRENTICE?”

“I was getting around to it, Master.” Hu Li squealed.

“Well, this changes everything!” The wizard said. “Eat your dinner and be off. You must return to the Wildlands and find Veshra. You must destroy its mortal coil and send its soul back to the Nine Hells from which it came.”

“We dare not go back into the Wildlands without Shale. He was our guide.” Gabriel protested. 

“Where is this Shale now?” Balian impatiently demanded. 

“Recovering in Goldfire Glen, from a poisoned dart, shot by a goblin.” Lilian said. 

“You have no choice but to go without him. The four of you will have to suffice. Time is of the essence. Stick to the path this Shale forged for you. Find Veshra and destroy her. Apprentice!” Balian grabbed Hu Li by the shoulder. 

“You are to come with me. You need to be disciplined.” 

“Of course, Master.” Hu Li sputtered. 

“I shall return him to you in an hour. Then, you must be off!” Balian ordered as he dragged Hu Li out past the tall narrow door at the far side of the hall. 

Gabriel stood and took a step to follow, but Lilian came about the table and blocked him. 

“I cannot just stand by and let this… thing… torment my friend like that.” Gabriel spouted.

“What we need to worry ourselves with now is that there is a powerful fiend on the loose in our land. Have faith, brother. Canaan has brought us to this juncture for a reason…”

“Do not preach at me, sister!” Spat Gabriel. “How do we even know Balian is telling us the truth? What if he just wants us to march off to our deaths as some sick joke?”

“We have no choice but to believe him. I sense no evil in him.” 

“So. Now, only the evil can lie?” Gabriel said. 

“Sit, Gabriel.” She answered soothingly. “Eat. We will all be in need of your strength for this.”

Gabriel looked across the table covered as it was with such opulence. He scowled.

“I have lost my appetite.” 

With that he stormed off.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 9: Balian's Mark*

Lilian hurriedly trailed her brother. I chose to lag behind. So consumed with calming her brother, she entirely forgot about me. I waited under the archway that bordered the great hall until I could no longer hear the echoes of either of their footsteps.

I stood there half cast in the shadow of the archway for a long moment. The decision I should have made was in direct opposition to the decision I longed to make; the decision, as fate would bind me, which I had no choice but to make. 

I turned and faced the tall, narrow doorway on the far side of the hall. It had been left ajar. The small crack through which I could see the corridor beyond called to me with the irresistibly potent songs of the mythical Sirens. Though as you will see a bit later in this tale, the Sirens are not as mythical as I had once thought. But I digress.

I could just make out a black iron banister and the steps of a downward staircase. I muttered a quick prayer to Canaan and pushed myself past the long dining table, past Balian’s throne-like chair and through the doorway. I did not stop until I had come to the bottom of the staircase and was at another door. Like the other, this one was also ajar. I thanked Canaan for that, because it was constructed entirely from a solid slab of some black metal, much deeper and richer than common iron. Had it been closed, even unlocked, I doubted very highly that my meager physical potency would have been adequate to pull the door open. 

I could hear Balian on the other side, though I could not see him. 

“There” He said. “When the wick melts down to the next line of the candle, the tentacles shall recoil back. Immediately return to your friends. Lead them back into the Wildlands and find and destroy Veshra. Do not fail in this. Let this discomfort be a reminder of the importance of your task. Veshra is a most heinous of evils and cannot be allowed to run amok, whither and thither!”

I heard Hu Li give an incomprehensible, muffled reply, followed immediately by the sound of a door squeaking shut. 

Balian stepped into view. He moved to a wooden table in the middle of the small room. It was covered with papers, scrolls, bottles stained with residue, and several bare quills whose feathers had long since sprinkled away. A leather bound book was clutched in his boney hand. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but I could have sworn I saw a bas relief image on its cover of a man screaming, his eyes closed tight and ropey flesh of his face burned away. I shook my head trying to remove the image.

He sat at the table and opened the book. I held my breath and squeezed my way through the opening. Balian made no indication that he had any notice of my presence. 
He had opened the book to the front page. It was written in Draconic, the language of dragons, and magic. I had learned to both speak and read this tongue during my dalliances into lore judged heretical by the Curia. The title of the page read:


*The Book of Abu-Abai



Concerning the rituals to summon and bind the entity provincially referred to as “The Horror.”*​
The book suddenly slammed shut. 

“I do not suffer snoopers lightly.” Snarled Balian who was suddenly gone from behind the desk and standing behind me. 

The whites of his eyes were like the surface of a frozen lake, holding me in my spot. 

“Forgive me.” I sputtered. “I only wished to have a word with you.” 

“No.” He answered accurately. “You wish to have several. Hu Li spoke to me of you. He told me you wanted an audience.”

“Yes.” I said, trying to gather my wits about me to speak clearly enough. My eyes drifted over to the wall from which I heard Balian speaking to Hu Li and closing the door. It was a solid wooden door, reinforced with iron bands. At head level was bolted a circular crest etched with an icon of writhing tentacles. 

“Well, then…” Balian huffed, returning to his desk. “Get on with it. I have things to do. What do you want?” 

“I wish to learn the arcane arts.” I said. “From you.”

“You’re offering to become my apprentice?” He asked, his eyes narrowing with curiosity and delight. “

“I am.” 

“Which school? Conjuration? Evocation? Transmutation?” 

I had not, up to that moment, given such a question any thought.

“All of them.” I said, not fully understanding what that meant.

“Interesting. Quite hungry for power, aren’t we?” Balian cooed. 

“I seek only knowledge.” I said, not entirely convinced I was telling the truth. 

“I was never one for splitting semantic hairs.”

He moved closer to me, his tall, gaunt frame looming over me. He took my chin in one hand and examined my face, in particular my eyes. His eyes glazed over for a moment.

“Yes, this specimen will do nicely.” Balian almost whispered, to whom I know not.

Then he held out his other hand and touched my forehead with his finger. 

“You’re a good man, Evora Faro, Priest of Canaan. Never let that go.” 

I felt a warm tickle slither at the spot he touched. 

“There.” Balian said pulling his hand back. “Hu Li’s apprenticeship is near its end. You shall take his place. When you return, your training will begin.”

“Thank you.” I heard myself answering him. Something wriggled in my forehead. I wanted to ask, no, demand, Balian tell me what kind of mystical vermin he had implanted there, but I dared not, for I wished not to upset my new Master. For that is precisely what he was to me at that moment. Canaan was my Lord, my Light, my Life, but Balian was my Teacher. 

I bowed low. “Thank you.” I repeated. “Master Balian.” 

“Be off with you!” He said. “Hu Li will join you momentarily. I have no doubt you shall prove to be a worthy apprentice. Yes.” 

He voice trailed off into a quiet chortle. He sat back down at his desk and reopened the book. 

I obeyed his edict and turned about, leaving him to his studies. 

I found Lilian just outside the tower, standing on the lowered drawbridge that straddled the deep moat. Bird dung stung the air beside the shrill, angry quacks of the Tower’s ducks. 

The Champion of Canaan stood sternly and silently next to her ashen faced brother. They both greeted my arrival with little more than a glance and a nod. 

“Where is Jordan?” Gabriel finally asked me after a long silence. 

“He is still with Balian.” I answered. 

“I’ve had enough of this.” He said, striding past me, and pushing his way past his sister. He strode forward, but was stopped by the emergence of Hu Li, wearing a clean, white robe and employing a slight limp. A smug, satisfied smirk split his face. 

“My Master has officially released me to continue our quest. We are off, then, to the Wildlands! Come, my friends! We must make haste!” 

He scurried past us. I noticed he had an extra tome tucked under his arm. I immediately recognized it as the book Balian had been studying when I interrupted him. It did indeed have the image of a screaming man on its cover, carved as though it was trying to escape the bounds of the book!

While catching up to Lilian and Gabriel who had joined Hu Li on the far side of the drawbridge, I slipped a reminder to myself in the back of my consciousness to inquire of the young wizard just how he came to acquire such a seemingly precious artifact from his Master. Perhaps Balian had entrusted his apprentice with it. Perhaps the Master believed the tome would aid us on our quest. Perhaps… but a private little imp of doubt nagged at me. It was whispering to me that Hu Li had somehow pilfered it.

Flirting with the ire of an eccentric arch mage did not seem to me the wisest thing to do.

Rejoined, we four headed north, back to Goldfire Glen and the Wildlands. 

It was decided that we should stop at the village and look into how Shale was faring. We also thought it prudent to include both Talon and Aesendal in this task. Without the druid’s aid we would need all the strength and power the monk and sorcerer had to offer. 

When Balian’s Tower vanished beneath the horizon behind us, Lilian suddenly stiffened. She turned back to me, the same serene smile she wore when we rendezvoused with her at Goldfire Glen days before. 

“I forgot to tell you.” She said with a dreamy intensity. “Something has happened to our small village, something… profound.” 

She turned to her brother. 

“You know Tanner, the merchant, and his wife?

“Yes.” Gabriel said. 

“And their son, Tanner, Jr.?”

“Yes. He’s, what, around eight now?” 

“Yes.” She answered. “The Curia is sending a delegation from Soliel to collect him.” 

Lilian had my complete and undivided attention. I knew what this meant.

Gabriel stared at her. 

“Collect him?”

“Father Nimitz told me. He was nearly beside himself.”

“He has good reason to be.” I thought, but I stayed my tongue and let her continue her story.

“It seems Tanner, Jr. has been discovered to be a potential Voice and Will of Canaan.” 

“The current Voice and Will is aging.” I said. “The Curia is anxious to find his legatee.”

“And they believe they have found it.” Lilian said, gleaming. “In Goldfire Glen! In our village!” 

Gabriel looked away and shook his head. 

“The Curia.” He hissed. “In Goldfire Glen. No doubt there will be Inquisitors and Justicars with them.”

“This is glorious news, Gabriel!” Lilian said. She looked to me for support. 

“She is right.” I said. “If he is chosen to succeed the Voice and Will, Goldfire Glen will be held in the highest esteem in the Church. Your little village will hold great sway for this.” 

“I’m not interested in sway. I’m also not interested in the village. In fact, most in the village don’t even like me.” Gabriel said. “Especially the priests. They all have problems with my… attitude. Whatever they consider that to be. To me, more priests equals more problems. If I am in town when they arrive, I’ll be weathering their visit at the Feisty Fox.” 

Lilian stopped and kindly placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. We both stopped and looked at her. Gabriel held tight to a scowl, despite, or perhaps in answer to, her gentle, serene expression. 

“I wish, Gabriel, you could just… let all that anger go.” She said sincerely. 

“It gives me purpose.” He said. “And strength.” 

“What are we stopping for?” Spat Hu Li, who had strode several paces ahead of us. “Haste! Haste! We must maintain our haste!” 

We journeyed on in silence for some time. Hu Li clutched the two tomes under his arm while muttering to himself. He stayed well ahead of us, moving briskly, forcing us to keep up with him. 

“I only hope the boy is happy.” Lilian finally said.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Asked Gabriel.

“He was taken from his parents and placed under the protection of the Church, in order to await the arrival of the delegation in safety and solitude. Surrounded by stuffy old priests and nuns, no matter how doting they may be, cannot be the most pleasant of experiences.” 

“Well, I am sure his parents are allowed visitation.” Said Gabriel.

“Normally, yes.” Lilian answered. “But they have left Goldfire Glen. No one is certain why, but they sold their shop and moved away.”

“Sold their shop?” Gabriel said with suspicion. “Sold their shop? Or were they driven out?” 

“I don’t know.” Lilian admitted. “I went by their shop to purchase some torches, as well as give his parents my blessing and well wishes, but I was greeted by a most disagreeable Shuuthian man who told me he had purchased the shop from them and that they had moved away. I told him what I needed to purchase, and to my shock, he tried to sell me a clutch of five torches for five full gold pieces. I tried to bargain with him, but he was beyond stubborn. I left and went immediately back to Father Nimitz who corroborated the new shop keeper’s story about the Tanners. He said he helped them load their cart. When I asked him if he knew why they left, he simply shrugged his shoulders and said he did not know. He said they were overjoyed to hear the news about their son, but insisted it was their time to move on, and that was all.” 

“Do you think the boy and what has been happening in the Wildlands is at all connected?” Gabriel asked. “Perhaps.” Lilain said. “If so, then the Church is most wise to sequester the boy. He will be quite safe under their care.” 

“What of Jazzad?” I asked. “How is he faring?”

Lilian sighed. 

“Poor man.” She began. “I left him with the Herbalist Menion, who was very happy we had found him. After my second visit with Father Nimitz, I stopped by Menion’s shop to inquire about Jazzad. Menion told me he had given the ranger something to keep him sedated while he took a sample of his blood for study. Menion said Jazzad was poisoned, but he was not sure how or by what. He asked me if I had seen any strange plants or fungi in or around where we had found him. I admitted we had seen nothing of the kind. Menion said he would try to concoct an antidote from his store of remedies, but he held out little hope.”

“Now that we’re returning to the Wildlands,” Gabriel said. “we should all keep an eye out for any unusual plants or mushrooms, for both Jazzad and Shale. Did you hear that Jordan?” 

“That is the Acolyte HU LI! And yes, yes, distinctive flora. Yes, yes. Remedies and antidotes! I get it!” shouted the wizard without so much as turning back to us. 

“My worry is that none of us will be able to tell the difference from one flower or weed to another.” Lilian said grimly. 

“We’ll do our best.” Said Gabriel. “And that’s all we can do.” 

Lilian nodded. We continued northward, quietly keeping pace with Hu Li’s persistence gait.

Gabriel broke the silence, turning to his sister. 

“Why didn’t you tell all of this to us earlier?” He asked.

“Balian may have been able to provide some insight into what ails Jazzad.” I added. 

“I don’t know.” Lilian sighed. “I suppose my fretfulness with regard to meeting Balian face to face preoccupied me at the expense of all else.”

“Well, that’s understandable.” Her brother said. They both looked at each other and let out a short familial laugh. 

Night fell before we had reached Goldfire Glen, forcing us to make camp by the side of the road. Hu Li had been uncharacteristically silent the entire day, staying well ahead of us and ignoring any attempts to include him in our conversations. I agreed to keep first watch over the camp. 

Lilian and Gabriel immediately fell into a deep sleep as the last embers of the campfire died off. All was silent, save for two things, the chorus of crickets and the incessant mumblings of Hu Li. He was still awake, sitting cross-legged, his back to me and a small lit lantern at his side. 

I moved over to the wizard and saw, peering over his shoulder, a glimpse of the Book of Abu-Abai, opened in his lap. He must have heard me coming, for he, in a manner that perfectly mirrored Balian, slammed the book shut and turned to me. 

“Do you mind?” He spat. Gabriel stirred at the noise, but turned to his side and proceeded to quietly snore. 

“I saw Balian reading that book back in the Tower.” I said.

“What of it?” Asked Hu Li, clearly suspicious of my suspiciousness. 

“What is in it?” I asked. 

“Spells. Rituals. Arcane things. Things you could not possibly comprehend.” 

“Why do you think that?” 

“Because you are a Priest of Canaan! And Canaan does not… appreciate arcane lore. Not like the Eyeless Hollow Ones. They feed upon it as a newly hatched fowl feeds on its mother’s vomit.” 

“You don’t believe in Canaan, do you?”

“Of course I do! I just have little respect for Him.”

“Unlike your Master. Balian claimed to have communed with Canaan and the way Balian spoke of it, the experience was… most pleasant.”

Hu Li rolled his eyes. 

“That was a joke, you fool! Balian has no more communed with Canaan as I have bedded with a harpy! You’re so blind by your faith that you have lost the clarity of mind to recognize when something is said in jest!”

Bile churned up from my stomach into my throat. Hu Li was treading on shaky ground and I was too tired to continue humoring him. I looked down at the book in his lap and quickly changed the subject.

“Why do you have that book?” I asked, trying to sound more curious than accusatory.

I failed. 

Hu Li jabbed an icy, dark glare at me. He pulled the tome from his lap and up into his chest. 

“Are you implying something, Priest?” He snarled. “Are you implying that I may have… stolen it? That I am no better than a common thief?” 

“I am merely asking…” 

“Posh!” He interrupted with a sharp click of his lips. “If you must know, it was a gift.” He said coolly. “A… graduation gift from my Master. Yes. In honor of my reaching the 1st Valance. Yes. That’s right. A bit late, perhaps, but that does not spoil my appreciation of it. I am not at all petty when it comes to such things.” 

The mark in my head, the one that Balian had implanted there, squirmed. 

Neither Hu Li nor I were adept at lying, but I chose not to push the issue and left him to his reading. I returned to the smoky remains of the campfire and sat down next to it, settling in for the remainder of my watch. I silently prayed to Canaan for patience, guidance and wisdom. 

Balian’s mark wiggled again. I added a prayer, begging for forgiveness. I was beginning to worry that I had made a horrible error of judgment when I asked to become Balian’s new apprentice. 

Balian was not an evil man. Of that I was certain. It was not the mage’s morality that concerned me, it was my own willingness to give in so easily and allow him to brand me thus. I feared my own lust for knowledge and power was already beginning to corrupt me. 

I looked back over to Hu Li, who had commenced with his studies. Bent over as he was, clad in his dusty white robes, his back to the camp, his shape, half caste in shadows that danced on the edge of the lantern light, elongated his already lengthy and gangly frame. He appeared to me more as a rabid wolf, selfishly hording his kill, than a human being, thirsty for knowledge and truth. 

I had taken the first step in becoming a Theurgic Mystic. I kept that image of Hu Li fresh in my mind, serving as a warning of what I must not allow myself to become.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 10: Goblins & Mushrooms*

We reached the border of Goldfire Glen by the middle of the next day. The final hours of the trip went by in silence. When we arrived the main cobblestone street was alive with activity. White robed Canaan priests were hoisting gold and silver laced flags up roof top poles that looked as if they had not been used in decades. Young, gray-garbed disciples were hastily polishing each pole, cleaning away years of weathering. 

A gloriously stitched golden Canaan Cross gleamed in the center of each ivory flag. We soon learned that word had spread about the impending arrival of the delegation from Soliel. Instead of attempting to squelch or limit the rumors, Father Nimitz had wisely chosen to embrace the growing excitement and make ready the village for the historic event. 

Scents of fresh baked bread, incense, sausages and beer mixed delightfully and heavily in the air, but yoked as we were with our mission, we had not the time to indulge in any of the town’s giddiness. Not that everyone was overjoyed with the news. I could see the fear which clouded the faces of most of the Green worshipping farmers who trod the busy streets. They knew they would have to make their true devotions discreet under the oppressive glares of the Inquisitors who were about to invade their home. I tried to bestow a compassionate smile when I spotted that look of dread, but it was of little avail, as being a Priest of Canaan myself, my paltry attempt at comforting them, I am sure, only exacerbated their worry. 

Lilian and I left Gabriel and Hu Li to gather Aesendal from the Feisty Fox and retrieve Talon from his Master and look in on Shale’s recovery. Lilian and I were to go to the Church of Canaan and request horses to speed our journey. As Lilian was a designated Champion in service of Goldfire Glen, such a request could not be denied. 

As the stableman saddled up our mounts, Father Nimitz bound toward us. It was the first time I met this jovial, well fed man. His round, perpetually smiling face glowed from within. He greeted Lilian with a warm hug, then turned to me.

“So, this is Evora Faro.” He said, shaking my hand. “The Lady Evenshire has told me much about you.”

“There isn’t much to say.” I said.

“Nonsense!” He answered with a laugh and hardy, stinging slap on my shoulder. At that moment his eyes met the saddles being tightened on our conscripted horses. He turned to Lilian. 

“You have just returned!” He bellowed. “How can you be leaving so soon? The delegation will be here any day now!” 

“We have urgent business in the Wildlands.” Lilian said evenly. “Two men suffer from an enigmatic toxin they ingested there and…” she hesitated and looked toward me. I nodded, signaling her that it was best she continued. “We have reason to believe a fiend, a servant of the Adversary, is wreaking havoc somewhere in the midst of the Wildlands.”

“By Canaan!” gasped Nimitz. “What sort of fiend?” 

“An imp.” I answered for her. “A familiar of a long dead Diabolist. It had been entombed near the corpse of its master for nearly a century, only to be freed from its bindings by what we do not know.” 

Both Father Nimitz and the stableman stared horrified at me for a long, silent moment. Lilian broke the tension.

“So, you see, our mission is both urgent and dire.” She said. “We are to track down and slay this menace before it is too late.” 

Father Nimitz nodded and a moment later gave us a hasty blessing. He left us, his terrified, worried look never fully vanishing from his face. The stableman quickly finished securing the saddles to our procured horses and was off with little more than a curt nod.

We had six. One horse for each of us. My donkey was to be stabled, being that he would only slow us down, and we needed to move with all swiftness. Lilian and I tethered the horses together and led them to the Feisty Fox. Aesendal was waiting for us. He was dressed for traveling. He donned a gray cloak that hung over a loose shirt and pants tucked into shin high boots. His hands were sheathed in thick leather gloves. His eyes were somehow brighter than I recalled them, and at certain angles, looked almost reptilian. I decided that fatigue was causing my mind to play tricks on me.

The young sorcerer told us that Gabriel had gone off to retrieve Talon. 

“We should purchase our provisions while he’s away.” Aesendal said. Lilian and I agreed. She was also anxious to have others meet the strange Shuuthian who had purchased the shop from Tanner. 

Lilian led Aesendal and I to the shop. It was filled with the usual accoutrements associated with long travel and adventuring types. Lanterns, oil, ropes, poles, rolled up blankets, waterskins, torches and bags of dried meats and cheeses. A door on the far end creaked open as we entered. A tall, gaunt, ebony skinned man dressed in a richly colored shirt and plain, dark pants appeared behind the wooden counter near the rear of the store. He scowled at us.

“May I help you?” He said. His voice was touched with a bulky but musical accent. I had never met anyone from Shuuth, and was momentarily shaken by both his appearance and the alien sound of his voice. 

“We seek provisions.” Aesendal answered, taking long strides to get closer to the man. I noticed the Shuuthian recoil subtly at the sorcerer’s approach. Lilian and I followed Aesendal. 

“Of course.” The shopkeeper said. “I have everything that you need.”

“We need a week’s worth of rations and at least ten torches.” Lilian said, moving in front of Aesendel. Her eyes studied the new shopkeeper with great earnestness. 

“Very well.” Said the man. “That will be fifty gold pieces.” 

Lilian and I raised an eyebrow. Aesendal leaned forward. 

“That’s impossible!” Aesendal retorted. “All told, it should not be more than ten!” 

“But that is my price.” The Shuuthian said, his voice cracking with indignity. “If you can find someone else in this village with the same provisions for less, I suggest you go to them. But alas…” He added with an oily grin. “There are no other shops here which specialize in the products you need. I suppose you have little choice. If you do not like it, there is the door. I am a busy man and have no time to deal with your foolishness!”

We decided the higher priority were the torches. If all else failed, we could hunt for our food. Even so, the man charged us twenty gold for ten wooden sticks topped with treated cloth. Aesendal stormed out as I lagged behind with Lilian to pay. 

We both nodded to the man respectfully, only to be answered with another scowl. 

We left, catching up with a crimson faced Aesendal. Rounding the corner to our right, I spotted Talon, Hu Li and Gabriel. They instantly saw us standing outside the shop and a moment later we were all together.

“The man is evil.” Lilian said in a hushed tone. “He was trying to hide it. His aura was muted somehow, but I could still sense it.”

“How do you know that?” Gabriel asked. 

“As a Champion of Canaan, I have the power to sense the presence of true malevolence, to _detect evil_, if you will. It is a subtle gift, but a very potent and indispensable one. I could feel the man’s traces of evil, of that I have no doubt.” 

“What do we do about it?” Gritted Aesendal, his hands balled up into fists.

“Are there laws in the village that pertain to price gouging?” I asked. Lilian shook her head. 

“Not any I know of.” She said. 

“I don’t like this.” Aesendal said. 

“Neither do I.” Gabriel added. 

“We should have the guard lock him up.” The sorcerer continued. “Find out why he’s here and what he wants.” 

“He is here to make money.” Hu Li snorted. “He wants to make a living. And that is all. He may be rude and overpriced, but that does not make him a villain. We cannot dally here any longer. A ranger and a druid are dying. A true fiend is loose upon the land and it is our duty to stop it!”

“But what if the arrival of this… foreigner… is connected to everything else that’s been happening?” Asked Aesendal. 

“We find that out from Veshra.” Lilian said. “Hu Li is right. We need to find the imp and the antidote for Shale and Jazzad first. When we return, we’ll find out more about this new shopkeeper.”

An hour later, we were miles away from Goldfire Glen. Lilian led the way. We were riding at top speed. Chill winds battered us from the east, as we made our way north and west, back toward Farmer Jed’s, back toward the haunted Granite Bridge, and back into the Wildlands. By nightfall, we were already there. Our steeds were exhausted and in the last hour or so of the day, they began to revolt, slowing down, trying to buck us off our saddles, stopping by a puddle of water for a drink, or a clump of grass for a bite. 

Well enough into the Wildlands, we all agreed it was time to make camp. 

Talon had informed us that both Shale and Jazzad, while not improving, had at least stabilized. They were both being kept sedated by their watchers in order to slow the progression of the mysterious contaminant. Shale was being looked over by Talon’s Master; Menion, the Herbalist, was caring for Jazzad. 

After what felt like only an hour’s rest, the sun crept over the Eastern horizon behind us. After Lilian and I finished our morning prayers, Aesendal completed his arcane rituals, Hu Li dispensed of his studies and Talon and Gabriel concluded their meditations and exercises, we all silently climbed into our saddles and rapidly rode west.

Two full days passed unmolested by boar or goblin. As the sun set, casting wide orange and yellow sheets across the landscape, we arrived at the edge of the great rift below which housed Vorhees’s tomb, the swamp and the goblin village. 

Leaving our horses tied to a rock at the cliff’s edge, we gathered enough rope to climb down the dark tunnel we traversed a week before. A few hours later, led by Aesendal’s light that glowed around his raised, gloved hand, we were once again in the thick of the marsh lands. The sun had completely set and the black sky was sprinkled with twinkling stars like sugar crystals floating on thick, Shuuthian coffee. 

We had little time to take in the splendor of our surroundings, however, as Lilian pushed us toward the dried out ravine, at the bottom of which awaited the goblin village. During our brisk, tiring ride back into the Wildlands we had concluded that the goblin village was the first place to look for both a cure for Shale and Jazzad and to find clues as to the whereabouts of Veshra.

When we arrived at the edge of the ravine, I could smell rancid smoke choking the air. Thick, black rivers of smoke rose above the edge of the ravine, barely visible in the dark night. A sickening, mad war chant broke through the night’s silence. 

“They’re preparing for something…” Whispered Gabriel. “We should end this now.” 

“One moment.” Lilian crawled to the edge and looked over. A few moments later she returned to us, her face void of color. “Veshra is there, somewhere, I am sure of it. Goblins do not exude the kind of evil I felt, no matter how frenzied they may be.”

“How many are there?” Asked Talon.

“A dozen or so.” Answered Lilian. “Surrounding what appears to be a shaman. He has a large black spider on his shoulder.” 

“Talon!” spat Hu Li. “You are our master tactician. How do you suggest we tackle this menace?”

All eyes floated toward Hu Li. Quiet as he had been, his shrill voice suddenly splitting our conference startled me. His assertion that Talon was our tactician only confused me. Spanning the faces of the others I immediately surmised that I was not alone in my confusion. 

Talon opened his mouth to speak, but Lilian took control of the moment. 

“Hu Li and Aesendal will go to the far west of the village.” She said. “Once there, Hu Li, you will summon your celestial dog while Aesendal, you prestidigitate a distracting light show. The interruption will confound them. The shaman will most likely order his minions to investigate, leaving him open for an assault. Myself, Talon, Gabriel and Evora will deal with the shaman and what is left of his guards. My hope is once we fell their leader, the rest will scatter and whatever wickedness they are intending will be thwarted.” 

“And if they do not scatter, my fair lady?” Hissed Hu Li. 

“Then we deal with them. As best we can.” Impatiently spat Aesendal, clearly weary of the wizard’s cowardice. 

The two arcanists ventured off. The rest of us crept as close to the edge of the village as shadows and terrain allowed. The air was thick with smoke and it took a great effort to fight down my reflex to cough. Mercifully, Aesendal and Hu Li did not disappoint. On the far end of the village, two tall torches exploded into dazzling sparks and _pyrotechnic_ explosions that lit the night sky like lightning. The goblins shouted in terror. As Lilian predicted, the shaman pointed his twisted wooden staff toward the disturbance and most of the goblins that had been dancing around him tore off to investigate. 

From our standpoint we could hear Hu Li’s conjured hound barking. Battle had begun. 

“Now!” Shouted Lilian. Talon and Gabriel, swift of foot and free from bulky armor, were first to pounce on the shaman’s thinned protection. Bones cracked as the two monks took hold of what was left of the goblins, clearing a path toward the shaman for Lilian and me. 

The black spider on the shaman’s shoulder stood on its four hind legs and batted its four front legs at us in defiance. The shaman spoke ancient, draconic words while waving his hand two and fro in front of his face. Two black, smoky spheres sprung from his fingers, striking Lilian in the chest. 

She stumbled back, but did not fall. I lunged past her and came upon the shaman, striking down with my mace, but missing his small frame entirely as he leapt aside. My mace managed only to dig a small hole in the dirt. 

The spider . . . giggled. 

Lilian jumped between me and the shaman, slashing with her blade. She caught only air. 

Gabriel and Talon dispatched the last of the goblins that remained to protect their master. 

“They’re coming back!” Shouted Gabriel pointing to the west, toward the wall of goblins that had been sent away to investigate Aesendal’s trickery. 

Two simultaneous voices rang out in chorus.

“_DOMIERE_!” They uttered, and half of the goblins tumbled to the ground, in a deep sleep. Aesendal sprang from the shadows of the end of the village, hastily closing in behind the remaining goblins. His frame was sheathed in a faint, shimmering glow. His mouth hung open, taking in a deep breath. 

Gabriel and Talon leapt on the shaman, but failed to make any contact with him, protected as he was in his own transparent, glimmering patina. 

A stream of acid erupted from Aesendal’s maw, showering the wall of goblins. They fell to the ground screaming as their flesh was eaten away. 

I took a step back from the battle and prayed to Canaan to _bless_ us in this face of our tribulation. Canaan answered. A lightness emitted from me, raining down on my allies, tightening their focus and renewing their spirit. 

The spider turned to me and hissed something at the shaman. Although I could not understand the words, the tongue was unmistakably that of the dark, taboo language of the devils of Hell. 

“Veshra…” I whispered. The spider froze, looking straight at me with its six tiny eyes. I attest to this day that at that moment, the spider somehow managed to smile at me. 

The shaman turned toward me, ignoring all others and began muttering. His hands dripped colorful, crackling streams of sand. He raised them and I was instantly enveloped by a _color spray_. I tried to fight off the paralyzing sensation that took hold of me, but ultimately failed. All turned white. The last thing I remember was Lilian’s horrified face watching as I crumpled to the ground. 

When I awoke I was seized with pain. Lilian knelt next me, her hands on my chest, pouring in warm waves of Canaan’s grace. I was conscious, but overcome with stinging agony. I tried to move, but Lilian pressed upon my shoulder. 

“Wait a moment.” She said. “You have been bitten by a centipede the size of my forearm. The poison will pass, or so Talon believes, in a moment. If it were not for Hu Li, I do not think you would have survived. 

A shadow fell over me. I looked up and saw Hu Li grinning smugly over me. 

“That’s right, Priest.” He said. “I saved you! Glory be to me! The Acolyte Hu Li and to the Eyeless Hollow Ones who darken my path!” 

“Is he awake?” I heard Gabriel’s voice somewhere nearby. It was heavy with pain. 

“I am.” I said, forcing myself through my own pain to stand. Lilian tried to protest, but I ignored her. She quickly gave up and helped me to my feet. 

As I healed my battered companions, they told me what had happened:

The Shaman had great power. He summoned waves of cat-sized centipedes, whose finger length pinchers bit straight through armor, injecting a burning toxin deep under the flesh. As I lay there, a few of these massive vermin took turns feasting on bits of me. Between the band of goblins and the centipedes, my companions, save Hu Li, were overwhelmed and could not get close enough to the Shaman and the beast that clung to his shoulder. Hu Li skulked in the shadows, avoiding the battle. 

“Not out of cowardice!” He interjected. “Where some of you use brute strength, I use cunning! And it worked!” 

The Shaman moved to my bleeding, comatose body, brandishing a long knife, ready to slash my throat and end my life. Hu Li flung two _magic missiles_ at the Shaman, catching him dead in the face. Burnt through by the mystic blow, the Shaman fell back, dead. 

When Lilian ran up to the corpse, the spider hissed, assuming a _gaseous form_, and vanished in a cloud of brown mist. 

* * *

Lilian’s prediction proved to be accurate. Upon seeing their leader slain, the few remaining goblins fled into the night. 

Aesendal and Gabriel wanted to hunt them down to the last one, but the rest of us convinced them otherwise. Talon and Hu Li immediately began searching the abandoned squat huts. 

Laughter filled my head. It was childlike, but ancient, timeless and cruel, like a young girl who had done something horribly wrong and was glad for it. I scanned the others and could see that they, too, had heard the laughter. 

“Hurry, now! Hurry!” She cackled. “Your friends are dying! Your town is crumbling! Why waste time with goblins and mushrooms when all you love and cherish lies crushed and bleeding in the streets? Heroes are you? More like idiots! Clumsy and blind! Hurry now! Hurry!” 

Veshra’s laughter died away. 

Talon emerged from one of the larger tents. He held a sack in his clinched hand. He glided over to Lilian who was clutching at her chest where the shaman’s magic missiles had struck her. I moved to her, praying for Canaan’s grace and healed the wounds.

“We have to leave now!” She said. No one argued. As we hurried back to the cliff where our horses awaited, Talon held out the bag, opening the top of it.

The inside was stuffed with bluish green mushrooms. 

“I believe we have found the cure for what ails Jazzad and Shale.” He said.

“Good.” Said Lilian. 

“If there is anything left of them to cure.” Mewed Hu Li. 

Although no one answered, I admit I secretly agreed with him. If Veshra was speaking the truth, then Goldfire Glen and all its innocent inhabitants were in great danger and our dalliance into the Wildlands may have not only been in vain, but may have sealed their doom. 

“There is still time, my lady.” Said Talon calmly. “All is far from lost. The Green will provide. Have faith.” 

I wanted to believe him.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 11:  Suffer the Innocent*

Chapter 11: Suffer the Innocent 


All I can recall, from the time we left the Wildlands and arrived at the horrors that awaited us on the Granite Bridge, was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and the air slapping my face, keeping me alert in the saddle as we pushed our horses to the point of collapse through the night and into the next morning. 

Our mounts caught the scent of the carnage first. Almost in unison, they skid their impressive gait to a standstill, kicked their forelegs up, flared their nostrils. Their maws fell open, spewing out a chorus of shrill whinnies. Lilian and Gabriel’s shouts could be heard over the cacophony, trying to wrest control of their horses. 

I followed suit, with surprisingly effective results. I jerked back on the reins, gave a commanding shout and my ride calmed down. After some spine jarring moments, our horses were calm enough to carry on and we galloped eastward, toward the Granite Bridge. A strong wind battered my face. It was heavy with the stinging coppery stench of fresh blood. 

Lilian signaled us to halt our steeds at the edge of the Granite Bridge. The smooth, stone surface was awash with drying blood and gore. The center of the bridge was clogged with the mutilated remains of white robed travelers. 

I recognized the emblems and markings on the robes immediately. It was the delegation from Soliel. They had all been slaughtered mercilessly. Ponds of blood, soaked up by the robes, covered the golden Canaan Cross on each of their robes. 

We each, in turn, tossed the traditional pinch of salt over the ledge of the bridge for the ghost legend told haunted there. Even in the wake of this carnage, none of us dared tempt the wrath of a restless, hungry spirit. I pushed ahead of the rest of our party, hastily searching the bodies for any sign of survivors.

All the bodies lay faced down. I took hold of the shoulder of the first one I came to and turned him around. I gasped and stared deeply, frozen in dismay from what I saw. 

The flesh of the face of this man, the highest ranking priest by the look of his insignias, had been shorn off. All that remained was a skull masked in of browning mush of pus and blood. 

“How horrible.” I heard Lilian say behind me. 

It was the same with the others. All their faces had been removed. 

“Some kind of Cultists!” Hu Li announced with great authority. “Face collecting, blood worshipping madmen!” 

“Perhaps.” I said quietly. “I have read of dark, corrupted magics that require such an act to evoke. They need the face of those whom they are going to emulate to mask not only their likeness, but also their true nature.”

“I have never heard of such a thing.” Said Hu Li. “Intriguing.” 

Lilian gasped. “Tanner.” She said. “They’re after the boy.”

“He’ll just march right in and take the child.” Added Gabriel.

“Something tells me they want more than just the boy.” Talon said. “They want chaos. They want blood. They want fear. We must act now to save what is left of Goldfire Glen!” 

Just then we heard a howl. It was followed by several more. Up the road on the far side of the bridge, masked, black and red robed Cultists barreled toward us. They bore wide, curved blades in their heavily scarified hands. 

“For Orcus and Kharas’Vhoories!” They shouted.

Gabriel answered their howls with a cry of his own, thrust his fist into the air and hurtled himself forward. Lilian and Talon were right behind him. Hu Li and Aesendal stayed back as I began to pray to Canaan to, once again, bestow my allies with his strengthening grace. 

From behind me, blue, glowing balls of energy curved toward one of the Cultists. They slammed into the man’s chest, burning holes in his robes and hurtling him back. He fell, dead.

Canaan’s blessing shone down upon Lilian, Gabriel and Talon as they engaged the remaining three. Lilian’s blade, infused with Canaan’s Holy Might, smote the screaming Cultist in one blow.

Talon and Gabriel’s fists shattered the faces of the other two. In less time it takes to sip wine from a flagon, four men’s lives were snuffed out. Wicked as they were, I could not help but take pity on them. They were still human. I wondered if their fall from holiness into depravity was the result of a tormented life, simple lust for power, or the soul rendering lies of some contemptible prophet of decadence. 

Once again on horseback, we pushed eastward, trying to gain ground on the imposters, hoping beyond hope that we would overtake them before they reached Goldfire Glen and succeed in kidnapping Tanner. 

We rode hard for a few miles coming to another sudden halt when Lilian signaled us to stop. 

In the middle of the road stood a little girl. “More of Veshra’s trickery?” I thought, but as Lilian dismounted and stepped toward the child, I recognized her. It was Carrie, the youngest daughter of Farmer Jed’s. Her eyes, though the same crystal blue, were remote and frantic. They stared through us as we all approached, she was speaking to Lilian in a harsh, hushed whisper. 

“I ran. I could only run. My mommy told me to. She told me to and I obeyed. They broke through the front door and my mommy told me to run. I didn’t want to, but she told me to. She told me to run until I could find help.”

“Who came?” Lilain asked. “Who broke through the front door?”

“Priests of Canaan.” She said, almost inaudibly. 

Carrie led us back to Farmer Jed’s farm. 

The butter churn on the front porch had been knocked over. Watery butter mixed with blood splattered the floorboards. 

Talon decided to stay with the girl while the rest of us cautiously explored the farm.

Lilian and I went into the house. Aesendal, Hu Li and Gabriel went off to search the rest of the property. 

Inside the house, the scent of copper, mixed with offal, urine and curdling milk, married into a nauseating malodorous stew. The furniture was broken apart. Clay pots and bowls were smashed into pieces, strewn across the floor. 

I heard Lilian gag as she entered into the kitchen. I quickly caught up with her, but had to turn away when my eyes beheld what had sickened her. 

Farmer Jed’s wife lay on the table in the center of the kitchen. Her legs were bent at the knee. Her unmentionables had been gutted open like a fallen tree trunk that had been ravished by termites. Blood dripped from what was left of her, expanding a pool that stretched to nearly every corner of the kitchen. 

We heard Gabriel shouting from the barn. Lilian and I rushed out to find him at the barn doors, pointing urgently at what was inside. When we all entered, we saw Hu Li staring dumbstruck at what remained of Farmer Jed. The innocent, sweet, provincial farmer stood impaled on a pitchfork that had been shoved a foot into the soft ground. 

A cloud of flies gathered to sample from the crusting wounds that sealed around the sharp ends of the fork which sprang from his chest. 

Aesendal, breathless, face full of rage and sorrow ran into the barn. 

“I found their son.” He said.

We all followed him to the north end of the farm. Hidden in a copse of trees was the decapitated, fragile frame of Farmer Jed’s boy. 

“He was trying to run away.” Aesendal said, battling emotion. 

“They chased him down.” Gabriel added through clinched teeth. “This was fun for them. This was sport.” 

Hu Li’s piercing, high pitched voice let out a scream.

We all ran after the sound, coming upon Hu Li at the outhouse. 

“You found his son?” He asked us.

“What’s left of him.” Said Lilain.

“I found the rest.” Hu Li said.

One by one we looked. What possessed us, I cannot say. Was it the need for final proof? Was it morbid curiosity? Did we need to bear witness to one more heinous act before administering justice?

All I know is that as long as I live I will never forget the image of that small face, that little boy’s head, wreathed with human waste, bobbing on the surface of a brown and yellow pool at the bottom of the latrine’s narrow well. His eyes were wide open, staring aghast into an eternal, abyssal void.

We rendezvoused with Talon and Farmer Jed’s youngest. In hushed voices, so as not to frighten little Carrie, we told Talon of what we found. 

At last the girl had had enough of waiting and asked us what was going on. Lilian bent down to her.

“We’re taking you away from here.” She said. “Bad men have done some bad things to your family and I am going to take you someplace safe.” 

“Goblins?” Asked the girl. 

“Something like that.” Admitted Lilian. 

Carrie nodded, tears bubbling up in her eyes. Lilian held her in her arms and picked her up. We helped Lilian hoist the girl into the saddle of Lilian’s horse. 

Lilian took in a deep breath. She looked at all of us, then wordlessly climbed into her saddle. The little girl held on as they rode off to the east, then turning to the south. 

Any lingering exhaustion that may have plagued me after our all night ride, evaporated. I did not wait for anyone else to answer the Champion’s lead, and soon realized I did not have to. 

We pushed our tired steeds onward, chasing down the sun as it climbed to its zenith. Chasing down fear and dread and horror, determined to lay down my life if necessary, the moment we had cornered our prey.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Talon's Journal:  Beginnings*

I have been restless of late--distracted during my meditations. Master says I should write in this journal to sort out my thoughts. He says writing my thoughts down may help free my mind of their influence and allow me to see them more clearly, even from a new perspective.

Shale, my old friend and a Priest of the Green, what the Canaanites refer to as a “druid,” lay poisoned in the adjoining room. My Master says he is unsure how to treat Shale, save for keeping him in a deep sleep in order to slow the progress of the toxin invading his body. 

I admit I am frightened. Jazzad, a seasoned Ranger, also suffers from some delusion evoking madness. He is back in Goldfire Glen, being cared for by his long time friend and the village Herbalist, Menion. From all accounts, Menion is as lost as my Master as to how best to treat this ailment. 

I await the others to return from Balian’s Tower. They thought it wise to seek the old, enigmatic man’s counsel. All are my childhood friends. All save one. A Priest of Canaan named Evora Faro. I have heard whispers from some of the local aspirants that this Priest was thrown out of Soliel for delving in forbidden lore. He is a peaceful, quiet sort. Shy, even. He has done nothing to betray our trust in him and has proven to be an asset in our recent troubles. 

I have no clear path before me, but if I wish to bring order to my scattered thoughts I suppose I should start at the beginning. Well, my beginning at least. I was born in the town square of Goldfire Glen, some eighteen years ago.

As a man who vigilantly strives for balance, my beginning was anything but. My mother was a slight woman, I am told, but strong in spirit. Master found her stumbling through the woods outside of town. She had clearly been through something horrible. Her body looked broken, but even as the pains of labor took hold of her, she kept moving forward, her mind focused on a singular purpose: to save her child. 

When she first saw him she tried to run. Her face took on a look of renewed determination, like a fox, deeply wounded by the bite of a wolf, running on, ignoring all pain, seeking only to escape into shelter, with no other thought but that of survival. Master called out to her, and assured her that he only wished to help. 

My mother, perhaps seeing hope, perhaps succumbing to her fate, reluctantly gave her self over to him. Master says that she didn't say a word, but fell into his arms. He carried her as quickly as he could into town--and Master moves like the wind blows--but once they reached the town square my mother could wait no longer and Master helped deliver me right there, in the middle of Goldfire Glen, next to an ancient oak tree.

A midwife was called for, and then a healer, but both arrived too late. She died under that oak. She was buried there. Sometimes, when I'm in a deep meditation, I can see her face. Beaten and bruised but glowing with an inner strength, looking up at me from the grass, she smiles contentedly, then closes her eyes and lets herself go.

I'm told there was some debate over what should be done with the child. With me. The priests insisted that I be raised in the church of Canaan, believing only they could save me from the damnation of my birth. Master calmly pointed out that the pregnant stranger had found him, and entrusted him with her care. Further it was he who birthed me, not a follower of Canaan. Ultimately the townsfolk agreed and to the priests' disappointment he was allowed to take me home. I have lived with Master ever since.

Our home is a small hut in the woods, just outside of Goldfire Glen. We live a simple life, but one rich with meditation and study. Over the years I have learned to focus my mind and tune my body. I understand my connection with the Green, I feel its force infused within me and I allow it to guide my actions. I follow the way of the Celind [kehl-ind].

As I write this it occurs to me that no one in Goldfire Glen knows that Master and I are Celind, and few would understand if they did. The Celind were once a great order. As guardians of the Green they dedicated themselves to maintaining balance in Turgos. Revered for their wisdom and objective nature, Celind were called upon to resolve disputes throughout the land. When necessary, they were also cunning warriors. Just nobles often relied on Celind for support during times of trouble, but Celind swore fealty to no man. If your heart was corrupt then no crown would save you from a Celind’s deadly blow. Those were the blessed days.

Master says the Canaanites were our allies when they first appeared. They were good and kind and tolerant. Some still are, but as the church grew it gained a life beyond the control of those within it. This new being--the Church, and their mortal authority, the Curia--soon realized that life given could just as easily be taken away, and it began to fear. Fear of course leads to jealousy and hate, so it wasn’t long before the Church turned its vengeful eye toward the Green. 

Master speaks of a dark time when the Church’s political sway was at its peak. The Curia attempted to demonstrate “the might of Canaan” and solidify its complete domination over the people of Turgos. I can tell the thought of this time disturbs him, so Master discusses it little, but I do know that the Green was deeply wounded and many of her followers were massacred in the name of “goodness and light”. The Curia of course made sure that history forgot these acts, but we have not. Nor has the Green.

Many Celind had expressed concern about the Church, but few realized the true nature of their doom. Destruction would not come from without.

There was one Celind, Master Thurin, who saw how the Church used fear to gain great power over the people and thought the Celind must do the same in order to survive the coming holocaust. Alas, one cannot use fear without succumbing to it. In time, Thurin's good intentions transformed into an all consuming and corrupting quest for power. To make matters worse, he seduced others to join his cause. They formed a secret cult, known as the Mordind. 

Turin saw the dark time coming and, believing the Celind were already dead, he and the Mordind temporarily allied themselves with the Church in a bid for power. When the Curia launched its merciless and bloody persecution of the Green, the Mordind helped them assassinate nearly all of the Celind. Luckily the Mordind underestimated their former colleagues. They failed to destroy our entire order and most of them died as well. Those Mordind who survived disappeared from sight, for fear of retribution. The remaining Celind also went into hiding, thinking it best to let the Curia believe they had been destroyed and wait for a better day to return. Meanwhile, the Church in its conceit had overextended its reach and, losing much of its strength, was forced to retreat to lick its wounds.

And so it has been ever since. There is a truce of necessity on all sides, as each tries to recover its losses, creating an uneasy balance in Turgos. Master is the only Celind I have met. I believe there are others, but Master does not speak of them.

The tale of Thurin and his Mordind cult is a cautionary one. It is always best to keep one's emotions in check. A lack of temperance can cloud the mind and lead one astray. I must remember this, for I sense the unknown approaching me and uncertainty can lead to fear if I am not careful. Master has said nothing, but I feel a change coming on the horizon. 

I do hope my friends return from Balian’s Tower with some insight that eludes my Master. I admit, however, that my hopes grow thin and transparent. I can see through them as one would see through a opened window. 

Patience. I must have patience. Master says that in all things patience is critical. I must not give into despair. If Shale’s time has come to return to the bosom of the Green, there is little I or anyone else can do about it. 

I take refuge in the Green. Life is but a fleeting flame. One cannot live without dying. One cannot die without having lived. Both are precious. Both are essential.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 12: The Sacking of Goldfire Glen*

Despite a beautifully clear sapphire sky, a bright sun and a gentle cool wind, clouds had gathered over Goldfire Glen. The usually gleaming spire that rose above the otherwise simple skyline was obscured in a thick glove of black smoke. Bloated red and orange fiery tongues peeked through the opaque undulations and from as far as a mile away, soot and ash blustered about in the light wind. 

Much of the village was on fire. 

As we rode past the narrow, two-story, northern tower, I spotted two armored guards hanging out the tower’s narrow window. Fresh swabs of blood painted the wall under the window’s ledge, fed by deep gashes that gaped widely from their throats. 

The streets were deathly quiet. All that could be heard was the crackling fires voraciously consuming unseen buildings. 

We made the first turn into the heart of the small town, near the square, close to the Feisty Fox and Menion’s Herb shop, and were forced to finally stop when we saw what the invading Orcus thralls had done to the square’s fountain. 

It had been overstuffed with the dismembered corpses of dozens of the village’s innocent residents. Positioned atop the heap were the flayed remains of what I recognized immediately as Goldfire Glen’s Justicar and its Inquisitor.

Rising from the center of the fountain was a beautiful marble statue of an angel. From the opened palm of her hand that normally sprouted out a delicate stream of clear water, purpling blood sputtered down the porcelain arm, tracing through the folds of her sleeve, her billowing dress and atop of her exposed, delicate foot. 

Every building was stained with some molestation. Smashed windows, bent, broken doorways, feces smeared on stoops, brown, amoebic tarnishes burned into the walls. 

Lilian was the first off her horse. Carrie, Farmer Jed’s little girl had buried her face in the folds of a blanket she had pulled from Lilian’s saddle. 

We all followed the Champion as she zeroed in on the Feisty Fox. 

Gabriel raced up to her, grabbing her shoulder.

“Lilian!” He said in a terse whisper. 

Her eyes were elsewhere. Crimson veins scratched the usually clear, ivory white pools that surrounded her brilliantly verdant eyes. 

“Can’t you hear them?” She said. “They’re laughing!” 

At that moment, we all heard the muffled roar of laughter coming from within the Feisty Fox. Something heavy smashed on the floor. It was followed by what sounded like a wretched plea. The laughter only intensified. 

Lilian unsheathed her sword and stepped toward the front. Aesendal breezed up to her, placing his gloved hand on her shoulder. 

“Wait.” He said. “I own this place. I know a secret entrance that leads to a crawlspace above the attic. We can catch them flat-footed.” 

“What about Carrie?” Asked Talon, who had come to stand next to the Sorcerer. 

“I will stay with her.” Said Hu Li. “I will protect her.” 

Everyone looked to the tall, gaunt, pale prestidigitator. After the third silent second of our dubious stares, Hu Li stiffened his back and harrumphed. 

“What do you take me for?” He said, adding in a whisper, after reaching up to cover the girl’s ears. “A pedophile?” He removed his hands from her ears. “She will be quite safe with me.” 

He waved his hands about the girl, and then gingerly touched her forehead. A glimmering prismatic prestidigitation formed about an otherwise invisible suit of mage armor that enveloped her small frame. Carrie poked her face up from behind the blanket, saw the starry shimmer that surrounded her, gave a quick “eeep!” and buried her face again. 

Another crash broke through the tavern, followed immediately by more laughter. 

Aesendal led the way as we squeezed through a narrow gap between the Feisty Fox and the Blacksmith Everhammer's shop next door. A ladder greeted us at the end of the alley. We climbed up, as quietly as possible and followed Aesendal through a small square portal on the side of the roof. 

The crawl space ended at another square opening some fifteen feet from the alley. As I scuttled in, I saw Aesendal, on all fours, halted at the adjacent aperture. I could hear him whispering to Lilian, who was the second to enter. Talon and I were next, while Gabriel watched the rear. 

“I see some people, all women.” Aesendal was saying. “They’re all tied up and gagged. They appear to have been… brutalized. I see no one else.”

Footsteps were heard coming up a staircase right below us. Aesendal turned and put his finger to his lips. A door whined open and someone stepped into the room. I could hear the muffled pleas of the bound and gagged women. Lilian’s fist tightened around the hilt of her sheathed sword. I grabbed hold of my mace and readied myself for to request another blessing from Canaan. I realized in that moment that none of us had sufficiently rested or engaged in our usual rituals and meditations required to replenish our various gifts. We would be heading into a battle with an unknown number of enemies worn-out and almost depleted. 

Aesendal betrayed no sign of fatigue, however, as he raised his hand, contorted his gloved fingers into complex, delicate contours, muttering quickly to himself. A moment later I saw three magic missiles fire from the sorcerer’s hand, followed by the sound of the Cultist below collapsing onto the floorboards. 

Laughter erupted from the bar below. Using the sudden burst of mirth as a cover, we all leapt from the small opening as gingerly as possible. Aesendal, Gabriel and Talon had no problem keeping quiet, as their garb was loose and light, but Lilian and I, being encumbered with our heavy, clinking armor, might was well have yelled down to the Cultists that we had arrived. 

When Lilian hit the floor, the laughter died down. When I landed, the laughter stopped altogether and was followed by the heavy footfalls and a half a dozen armored Cultists barreling up the stairs. 

I took the moment given us to call upon Canaan to bless us in this skirmish. I had but a scant few prayers left to me, and given the destroyed condition of the women here, I knew what was left would have to be used to cure their wounds, provided they were not too far gone. 

The door to the attic swung open. Gabriel and Talon leapt at the first two Cultists, each apple-faced from ingesting too many spirits, donning chain-shirts over their black and red robes and wielding wide, curving blades that were smeared with browning blood. 

Canaan’s justice was with us as the monk and the brawler grabbed the villains, grappling them to the floor. 

Two more Cultists jumped past the threshold, where they met Lilian, sword out and ready to enact justice. 

Canaan’s Champion swung her blade down hard on the first Cultist to engage her, but he was too deft of foot for the attack and feinted, clear of her steel’s path. The second of the pair pitched his blade toward Lilian’s exposed throat, but she managed to snap her head back, and twist her frame to the right. The blade still met flesh, flaying across the back of her shoulder. She grunted down the pain, twirled to stand evenly between the two attackers and readied for her next opportunity.

I swung my mace at the head of a fifth Cultist who had ran behind his detestable allies, but all I caught was a ceiling’s support beam bolted just above the door’s threshold. Wood splinters rained down on me and the Cultist smiled, slashing his sword. It bit into my upper arm and yanked back, creating a gash that leaked blood down both sides of my arm. Filled with Canaan’s righteousness, I only felt the pressure of the wound and the wet of my blood, but I refused to feel any pain and steadied myself to return the man’s blow with one of my own. 

I heard bones crack and noticed my enemy give a quick glance over to his right. Gabriel and Talon had snapped the necks of the two Cultists they had engaged. The drunken hue that masked my enemy’s face melted instantly into stark white. 
To my right, Lilian sliced through one of her rivals, dropping him to the ground.

Aesendal, standing between us and the Cultists’ victims, inhaled with a curdling whistle and exhaled a thin green torrent of acid, striking Lilian’s other opponent, and sending him withering to the floor, sizzling under the ravenous assault of the Sorcerer’s acerbic breath. 

The Cultist with which I was engaged, having seen his fellows fall in seconds, lost his will and turned to flee, but Gabriel had hurried up beside me and seized the opportunity. He landed a strike at the back of the man’s neck, sending him tumbling down the stairs. He rolled to a stop at bottom of stairs next to the barrel lined wall. 

The Cultist never moved again.

Lilian, Talon and Gabriel moved down to the bar proper to insure there were no other villains lurking about. Aesendal and I stayed in the attic to unbind and care for the captives. 

Three of the unfortunate women were beyond our help. Their frail bodies were broken under the debaucheries that had befallen them. The remaining survivors had no tears when they spoke with us. Anger was the only fuel than fostered their tale. How they were wrenched from their homes, witnessed their husbands’ murders at the compassionless hands of the Cultists, then dragged to the attic of the tavern, bound and gagged. They were summarily beaten, humiliated in unspeakable ways and violated beyond comprehension. 

Aesendal recognized the most vocal among them as the Baroness Underhill. He addressed her in accordance to her station.

“My lady,” He said as he released the rope that bound her wrists behind her back. “Are there any other invaders in the village?” 

She shook her head. 

“I do not know for sure, but I believe most of them left.” She said. “My husband…” Her voice cracked and trailed off as the anger that bore her until this moment crippled and gave way to tears. The other ladies, now all freed, draped their arms around her. 

The movement proved to break her spell of self pity. Her long, regal neck stiffened. She wiped away her tears on her torn sleeve and immediately stood. Though shorter than the other women, her presence, bold and commanding, towered over everyone else, even Aesendal. 

“There will be time for tears. If he is dead, he is dead. We will mourn for them all when the time comes.” She said. “We must rebuild our home. That is our top priority. Our only priority. 

“He may yet live, Baroness.” Said one of the women, a barmaid, by the look of her dress. “I overheard some of the invaders saying something about locking up all the guards and the royalty in the palace’s jail.” 

“What of Tanner?” I asked. 

“The Chosen One? I… do not know.” Answered the Baroness. She fell silent, seemingly at a loss for words.

I placed a hand on her shoulder, in a sincere gesture of compassion, but, knowing she was a noble and yoked with a responsibility that demanded her attention, I had an ulterior motive. 

And it worked. She curtly brushed off my hand and her handsome mien reclaimed a stately facade. 

“You are quite right to ask about the boy.” She continued. “Clearly he was the motivation for this incursion. If they have taken him, he must be rescued, unharmed, and returned to us.” 

We rendezvoused with Lilian, Talon and Gabriel who told us that the rest of the bar was clear of enemies, but they had found one of Aesendal’s bartender’s covered in wine and beaten to death. 

Aesendal nodded, balling his gloved hands into fists. His shiny, almost serpentine eyes glistened with malice. 

The Baroness came up to Lilian, who bowed to her. 

“Enough of that.” The noble said. “We must make haste to the palace and the chapel. If the Baron lives, he must make his presence known. It will instill hope in those who survived this atrocity.” 

We met Hu Li and Carrie, remounted our horses and, with the Baroness sharing Lilian’s saddle, raced for the palace. 

On our way, we took notice of what was once the Tanners’ supply shop, now owned by the mysterious, unfriendly Shuuthian. Although the front was duly barricaded with criss-crossing wooden planks, it was completely untouched. The buildings on either side were little more than razed, smoldering husks. The anomaly did not go unnoticed from any of us. 

I heard Gabriel yell up to his sister. “We need to look into that!” 

Lilian responded with a nod.

The town was in shambles. Virtually every building bore scars of the invasion. Menion’s Herb shop vomited a thick, black funnel of smoke from its front door. We hurried past, but I could see the others staring at the store, mouths agape, fearing the worst for both the herbalist and Jazzad, his Ranger friend.

By the time we reached the palace gate, most of the fires had died out, leaving great piles of ash and soot in their wake. 

We raced under the raised portcullis into the palace’s courtyard. The once pristine, elegant garden of hedges and brilliant flowers, was blackened by ravages of fire. 
Every path way was littered with the corpses of the town guard and Cultists. 

The body of Captain Tiberon’s lieutenant was impaled on the horn of a stone gargoyle which grimaced over the archway that led into the main foyer of the inner palace. 

As we dismounted, I gave a prayer for the dead. I asked Canaan to hasten the fallen heroes to paradise. 

The Baroness led us through the interior of the palace. Every room was smeared with blood, gore and other unmentionables. The odor was all consuming and I found it difficult to keep from gagging.

Little Carrie clung to Hu Li’s robe. Her free hand covered her mouth. Her eyes darted about, taking in the horrors. I thought to myself that I wished I had the means to force this young innocent to forget these sites, for it was almost too much for me to bear. I could only imagine what nightmares would plague her for the rest of her life.

How could Canaan allow this to happen? 

We soon came to the prison cells underneath the palace. The Baroness let out a sigh of relief as we came to the first cell. Her husband, the Baron Derren Underhill, was there, sharing the cell with Captain Tiberon and the rugged, burly blacksmith named Everhammer. The Baron was keeping watch over both of them, for they lay motionless at his feet, their bodies covered from head to toe in browning bruises and deep gashes. 

The Baron was almost naked, having torn his regal garments into strips to cover what wounds he could on his less fortunate cellmates. 

He lunged for the cell door as we approached, grabbing hold of his wife’s hand. No words were spoken. I asked the Baron if the other two were alive. He simply nodded. 

Both Talon and Gabriel tried to release the bolt on the cell door, but failed. The keys were nowhere in sight. At last the Baron spoke. His voice was parched and labored, as if he had not spoken in months. He told us that after they were locked in, the Cultists left with the keys.

It was decided that Talon, Gabriel, Hu Li and Aesendal would look for the keys to the cell while Lilian and I would go to the chapel in hopes of finding Tanner safe. If the boy had been abducted, then we hoped to find some clue as to where they had taken him, and for what purpose.

Carrie would remain with the Baroness.

Lilian and I hurried upstairs to the chapel. As we feared, it had been defiled and desecrated. Feces and urine stained the delicately carved archways and angelic statues that greeted the devotees as they first entered the serene halls. 

We both gasped as our eyes fell on the altar. Crucified upside down on the Canaan Cross that hung above the altar, was the gutted remains of Father Nimitz. His entire torso had been torn apart and hollowed out to the bone. His eyes remained open. His lifeless mouth was twisted in frozen agony.

Spread before the altar was an inverted pentagram, the symbol of the thralls of Orcus. It had been sculpted from the priest’s entrails. A spreading moat of oozing bile emanated from the outer circle of the demonic rune. Lilian and I stood for a long moment. Both of us were stunned into silence by the sheer inhumane cruelty and artistry of the dreadful vista. 

A creaking floor board freed us from the chimera. The sound came from behind a closet door to the right of the altar. Lilian unsheathed her sword and I took hold of my mace as we gingerly moved to the door. The creaking continued as we approached. Lilian took hold of the handle and pulled it open. 

We both raised our weapons to strike, but stayed our hands when we saw a young priest rocking back and forth, sitting with his knees brought up to his chest, his eyes wild and distant. 

His lips were shining with saliva and his white robe was damp and stained with sweat. 

“Acolyte Tim!” Uttered Lilian, resheathing her blade and kneeling down to him. 

“Canaan, have mercy!” He cried. “Have mercy. Free me from my mortal coil. Take me into your arms and let me gaze upon your glory. Have mercy. Have mercy.” 

“He’s in shock.” I said, knowing I was stating the obvious.

Lilian grabbed the young priest’s face with both of her hands. She forced him to look straight at her. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment.

“Where is the boy? Where is Tanner?” She asked.

“Have mercy, Oh Canaan!” He pleaded. “Have pity. Have mercy. Forgive me my sins and lead me to life everlasting.” 

“Where is Tanner?” She asked again, raising her voice.

Tim struggled, but her grip would not give.

“Forgive me!” He said. “I failed! We all failed! All hope is gone! They have him! They wore the faces of priests!”

“The Cultists?” Asked Lilian. 

The acolyte nodded. Tears beaded up in his eyes and fell freely down his cheeks. He tried to pull away from Lilian’s grasp, but she only held on tighter.

“Where did they take him?” She asked.

Tim could only sob. 

“Answer me! Hope is not lost. Canaan is with us. He is with you! Have faith! Have strength! Do not give in to your fear, or the Adversary will truly have this day. Speak to me, Priest! Where have they taken Tanner?” 

A cry, beget deep in the acolyte’s soul, moving up in a slow, but horrific crescendo, burst out of his mouth in a pitiable admission. 

“I DO NOT KNOW! I DO NOT KNOW!”

The effort proved too much and the young priest fell into unconsciousness. Lilian let him go. She stood and turned to me.

“I fear we must return to Balian’s.” She said. I was astonished by both her certainty and the incongruity of her idea. “He will want to hear of this, and, though I am loathe to admit it, I do not know who else might have the means to locate the boy. An arcanist of his caliber could scry virtually anywhere in the world. It is a task beyond any of us, and I see no other alternative.” 

I nodded, knowing in my heart that she was right. Balian was our only hope.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 13: Helena*

Every muscle in my body, stretched as thin as parchment, screamed out to me for solace as I rode behind Lilian, heading southward for Balian’s Tower. Gabriel and Hu Li rode just behind me. I could hear them arguing, but it was unclear over what as the loud pounding of the horses’ hooves drowned out nearly all other sound. 

The horrors that scarred Goldfire Glen were beyond quantification. Not a soul in the village was untouched by the massacre, save for the Shuuthian and his recently acquired shop. 

After the last of the fires had been extinguished, the horrible task of collecting and counting the dead commenced. Both Jazzad and Menion had been found in Menion’s home above his shop. They had been bound together and burned alive.

Aesendal and Talon were to remain. Carrie, Farmer Jed’s orphaned daughter was temporarily left under the care of the Baroness until appropriate Church officials arrived from Auros. Aesendal demanded to stay behind. He wanted to help spearhead the reconstruction as well as confront the mysterious Shuuthian. We had theorized that he may have bribed the Cultists to leave his shop alone, or, worse, that he was an Orcus worshipper, sent ahead to Goldfire Glen as a spy. 

Talon returned to his master’s abode outside the village to give the mushrooms he found in the goblin’s village to his master in the hope that his master could craft a remedy for Shale. As it was secluded in the woods an hour outside the borders of Goldfire Glen, Talon’s master’s home had been spared the wrath of the Cultists. 

By foot, Balian’s Tower is a full day’s travel from Goldfire Glen, but at the pace we were pushing our horses, we first spotted the moss smothered top of the tower by the sixth hour of our journey. A mere two hours later, we were galloping over the lowered bridge, past the angered quacking of the moat’s bloated ducks and into the main foyer. 

We dismounted and Lilian commanded Hu Li to lead the way to his master. It was of no consequence, as the door to the dining hall swung open and Balian all but floated out to greet us. His countenance was wrapped with annoyance. 

“You have returned what is mine, then… apprentice?” He said holding out a boney hand toward Hu Li who cowered before his master.

“I haven’t a clue as to what you insinuate, Master.” He sputtered.

“The book.” Said Balian. “The one you stole from me.” 

“I stole nothing. It was a gift. I borrowed it only.” Hu Li answered unconvincingly. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Gabriel said, stepping forward. “Our home has been destroyed, Balian! My sister and the Priest here…” He said pointing at me. “… believe you are the only one who can help us. A boy has been kidnapped and we need to find him. Are you capable and willing to do that for us?”

Balian ignored Gabriel’s intrusion. Both he and Hu Li were locked in some silent conflict. Their eyes never strayed from each others.

“I demand you answer me, old man!” The brawler hollered. I stepped up to him. 

“This is the man’s home. Show some respect.” 

Gabriel stepped away from me, narrowing the gap between himself and the arch mage. Lilian hurried up to him and blocked his path. At that moment, Hu Li let out a sigh and dropped his head. Reluctantly, he moved over to his horse, pulled the thick tome of Abu Abai free from a saddle bag and handed it over to his master.

Balian’s chalky face was split by a pleased smile. 

“Thank you.” He said to Hu Li. “You have learned much, my apprentice. Despite your petty larceny, I have a reward for you. Go to your chambers and wait for me there.”

“Yes, master. Thank you master. You are most forgiving, kind and merciful.” Hu Li all but leapt from the foyer, running past Balian and disappearing into the great hall. 

“You’re being quite rude, Balian.” The voice was soft, feminine and soothing. It came from above and behind us. Balian’s features strangely relaxed at the admonition as his eyes drifted in the direction of the sound. 

We all turned around and beheld a towering, intoxicatingly beautiful woman standing statuesque on the landing at the top of the staircase behind us. She was wrapped in translucent, silky shades of indigo. Her alluringly milky arms were wrapped around one another at her chest. Fiery red fingernails tapped over her arms just above her elbows.

“You have yet to introduce me to your guests.” She purred.

“Forgive me, my dearest.” Answered Balian. I turned back to him and caught his boney hands wringing over each other, his shoulders drooped just so. He looked almost submissive, but when his eyes caught mine, he instantly snapped back to his usual commanding stiffness. 

“Everyone, this is Helena. She is my friend and advisor.” Balian waved a hand over us, then toward her. “Helena… this is everyone.” 

With that, Balian turned away and glided off. 

Helena rolled her eyes and moved down the stairs, her hand outstretched in greeting. 

“He is a master of much, etiquette not being one of them.” She said as she took Lilian’s hand.

“I am Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan in service of Goldfire Glen. This is my brother Gabriel.”

Gabriel held out his hand stiffly as Helena took it and rubbed the back of it with hers. She drank in his muscular frame for a long, silent moment. 

“You’re quite a specimen.” She said. 

Gabriel yanked his hand away. Helena only smiled at him. Gabriel moved behind his sister and whispered something to her. Lilian shook her head in response.

I offered my hand. Helena took it and allowed me to bring her hand to my lips. I politely kissed it. Her skin was as soft and cool as a spring’s morning breeze. 

“I am Evora Faro, Priest of Canaan.” I said. Her eyes betrayed a recognition.

“Ah.” She said. “So you are Balian’s new apprentice.” 

I could feel both Lilian and Gabriel’s stares of shock.

“He has graciously offered his tutelage to me, yes.” I admitted. “At my request.” 

Gabriel grumbled something, pushed past Lilian and headed into the dining hall.

“We are here on urgent business, Lady Helena.” Lilian said. 

“I know.” The arcanist answered. “Goldfire Glen has been brutally attacked.”

“How did you know that?” Lilian asked. 

“We saw it happen, or at least, saw the aftermath.” Helena said, a bit quieter. “It was horrible.”

“You and Balian were at Goldfire Glen?” Said Lilian, her voice choking. “You saw the attack and did nothing to stop it?”

“No, my Lady.” Helena said, affecting a sad smile. “Balian and I were scrying, trying to find Veshra. We were searching everywhere, but found nothing. When our search brought us to Goldfire Glen, it was already on fire. A moment later we saw you riding in. We watched you slay what remained of the Cultists. We then turned away from the village, trying to find any sign of other Cultists. We were unsuccessful.”

“We encountered Veshra.” I said. Helena immediately locked eyes with me. “In the Wildlands. She had taken the shape of a spider, serving as a familiar to a goblin shaman. Once we slew the shaman, she disappeared, but not before telling us Goldfire Glen was being destroyed.” 

“The shaman is dead?” Helena asked, a pleased, thin smile spreading over her enticing face. She turned from us and rushed to the dining hall. “Balian!” She cried out. “Ready your summoning chamber! We have work to do!” 

An hour later we had gathered in a large chamber beneath the tower. We all stood at one end of a large circle hewn from the living rock in the floor. Helena and Balian had swiftly drawn in large, arcane symbols around a wide thaumaturgic triangle. Hu Li was not present. When Gabriel asked Balian what he had done with Hu Li, the master waved an irritated hand at the brawler and replied flatly “He is being disciplined.” 

Candles were lit at the corners of the triangles. Pungent incense was burned by each candle. 

“You must all keep very still and very quiet.” Helena told us as she positioned herself by the edge of the circle. “Denizens of Hell are a complicated and ornery sort. Many of them trust me, but if they suspect something is out of place, they will not cooperate.” 

Lilian, myself and Gabriel gave each other astonished glances. 
“You confer with the beings of Hell?” Asked Lilian, her voice halted and concerned. 

“Oh, yes.” Helena answered plainly. She looked at our worried miens, rolled her eyes and gave Balian an annoyed glare. “Balian, my dear, didn’t you tell them?” 

“Tell them what?” Said Balian, never looking up from a thick tome that lay open on a pedestal next to him. 

“That I am a Diabolist.” She said. 

“You worship devils?” Spouted Gabriel, his hands clinching into fists. Helena threw her head back and laughed. 

“No, silly man!” She said. “I entrust them to me, in service of the greater good.”

“And why should we entrust ourselves to you?” The brawler said through his teeth. “How do we know you are not corrupted by all this… conferring?” 

“I already told you, Gabriel.” Interrupted Lilian. “I sense no evil in her. I have no choice but to trust her.” 

“Very wise of you, my dear.” Helena said. “I dally with fiends with only one goal in mind, and that is to use them for information. Believe me, devils are an ever-flowing font of knowledge, and given the right enticements, they like to talk.”

“What sort of enticements?” I asked.

Helena simply smiled and turned back toward the circle. She raised her hands and began chanting in a language I had never heard. It was drearily melodic, sinister and beautiful, like a requiem. At various intervals, Balian paused from his readings to add a line of harmony to the unveiling song. 

Smoky shadows began to undulate at the center of the triangle. The flames of the candles stretched upward, shifting from yellow to a rich ruby red. The air about the chamber grew dry and hot. The slithering shadows coalescing in the triangle twisted into shapes of cherub sized, gaunt fiends. Their heads were adorned with small horns. Their faces where broken into twisted, cruel smiles. Boney wings flapped at their backs as they swirled in and out of the cloud of smoke that had gathered. 

Helena’s song stopped. Her voice grew commanding and insistent. A few of the devils stopped their cavorting and listened intently, cowed into submission by the force of Helena’s will. 

They nodded in response to her orders and vanished. The cloud dispersed, then reformed but a moment later, taking on the transparent, ghostly shape of the hunched shaman we had fought and bettered in the Wildlands not two days previous. Chains of bone fell from his wrists, waist and ankles, anchored to some unseen moor below the stone floor. Blade wounds and acid burns still scarred the shaman’s frame. 

He and Helena spoke for some time. Whenever the ghost answered, azure smoke billowed from his mouth and nostrils. Many of his responses were preceded with a violent shake of his head and writhing against the chains that bound him. At last Helena waved an open palm before the goblin and it vanished. The candles blew out and the infernal shadows evaporated. 

Balian and Helena wordlessly left the chamber. We followed them up the stairs to the main floor and into Balian’s private library. Dusty, yellowing tomes clogged the colossal shelves that lined every wall. A large, simple mirror hung at the far end of the chamber. Balian and Helena went right to the mirror and began what appeared to be a complex ritual. 

Gabriel leaned to me, his voice crackling with rage and distrust. 

“What are they doing?” He asked.

“I am not sure, but I gather they are trying to scry some location based on what the ghost of the goblin shaman told her.” 

“This is madness.” He said. “Utter madness.”

“We have it!” Announced Helena, turning back to us, a fist punching the air. She hurried up to us as Balian left the chamber through an archway by the mirror. Gabriel’s eyes followed him.

“They have taken Tanner to a ruined tower. It is in the Wildlands not two days travel from Goldfire Glen.”

“What do they mean to do with the boy?” Asked Lilian.

“They mean to sacrifice him to Orcus.” She said. “On the night the New Moon. If they succeed, Kharas’Voorhies will rise. They will use the power of the purity of this boy to fuel that villain’s rebirth.” 

“When is the New Moon?” Lilian asked, her voice shaking.

“Four days from today. You have the luxury of time. You must use it to rest. You are weary and in need of sleep.” Helena told us. Gabriel shook his head at her.

“We’re not staying here.” He spat. “And neither is Jordan. We are leaving. Now.” 

He tore off after Balian, vanishing under the archway. We heard him calling out to the wizard. Lilian and I chased after him. Helena did not follow.

We caught up with Gabriel in an adjacent room. It was a smaller, but equally impressive library. The walls were covered in large maps of alien looking landscapes. Hu Li sat at a desk near the center of the room, his nose in an opened book. 

Balian stood near his apprentice as Gabriel stomped up to him. 

“We are leaving.” The brawler said. 

“Fine. Then go.” Answered Balian. “No one is keeping you here.” 

“I am taking Jordan with us.” Gabriel said. “I am not leaving him here with you.” 

“That is the Acolyte Hu Li!” Hu Li said in response. 

“I need to stay in order to study.” Hu Li continued. 

“You can study anywhere.” Answered Gabriel. 

“No. I cannot. I have to remain. I can only learn all I need to know if I remain here for the night.” 

“I will remain.” I said. “I will look after Hu Li and make sure no harm comes to him.” 

“You?” Said Gabriel. “You yourself are already taken by this wizard’s hollow lies. What good will you be?”

Balian stepped forward. 

“You may leave.” He told Gabriel, his usual shrill voice deepened and threatening. “But Hu Li must remain. If he does not, his usefulness to you will be greatly diminished.” 

“That makes no sense!” Said Gabriel, his temper shattered. “You are all bewitched by this madman and I am no longer willing to stand by while you…”

Balian rolled his eyes dramatically and waved a hand at Gabriel. The brawler vanished. Lilian gasped and ran forward, stopping at the place where Gabriel stood. 

“What have you done with him?” She shouted. “Where have you sent him?” 

Balian sighed. 

“He is quite safe. He is outside. With the ducks.” He said. 

“Show me.” Lilian insisted. 

“Very well. Apprentice, stay here and continue with your studies.” 

“I never stopped them, master.” Said Hu Li.

Balian led us up a spiral staircase and stopped when we came to a narrow window.

“There.” He said, pointing a boney hand out the window. We both looked and instantly spotted Gabriel pacing back and forth on the far side of the moat. The drawbridge had been raised. “You see. Quite safe.” 

Balian left us. We watched Gabriel for a few silent moments, then the weight of the last few days finally fell upon me and I leaned on the wall, a breath away from collapsing fully. Lilian must have sensed my fatigue, for I felt her hand come to rest upon my shoulder. 

“I am sorry I could not do more for your village.” I said. 

“You are little more than a stranger to us, Evora.” She said. “And yet you selflessly remain and aid us. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done.” 

“Canaan has brought me to you.” I said. A fog rolled in over my eyes. I could barely stand. “It is by His will alone that I act. Do not thank me. Thank Him. Have faith, Lilian. All will be well.” 

I remember little else of that day. Lilian and I supported each other as Balian’s Gnomish house servant led us to our rooms. I remember laying my head upon a soft pillow, closing my eyes and dreaming of a lake of fire, blood and smoke. On an island in the middle of the lake sat a boy, clinging to a bald sapling. The acidic waters of the lake lapped up at the boy’s bare feet. I cried out, but it was to no avail. The waters surged and boy was lost under the waves. 

When I awoke it was night. A silver sliver of a crescent moon frowned down at me through the window of my room. In three nights an innocent, frightened child will be brutally murdered and myself, Lilian, Gabriel, Hu Li, Shale, Talon and Aesendal had been chosen to thwart the crime. If we failed, the horrors that befell Goldfire Glen would engulf all Turgos. With those terrifying, prophetic visions haunting me, I fell back into a deep sleep and by the grace of Canaan, did not dream for the remainder of the night.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 14:Canaan's Theft*

We had left Balian’s Tower by the early afternoon on the following day. Hu Li had completed his studies sufficiently to reach, as he put it, the Second Valence. Gabriel had found a soft patch of grass some paces away from the shadow of the Tower and had slept there. He was in understandably poor spirits when we rendezvoused with him. Lilian’s quiet resolve had returned. Her eyes were lit with emboldened determination to track down our enemies and rescue young Tanner and spare another innocent from suffering under the Cultists’ profanity. 

Despite the nightmare that had disrupted my slumber, what sleep I managed to attain proved fruitful. I was awoken by Orolde, Balian’s weary faced Gnomish caretaker. He informed me that the Master wished to see me. I quickly washed myself at my chamber’s basin. A remarkable bit of engineering, indoor plumbing all the way up in the tower with little knobs with which to start and stop the water flow. I’m sure it was horribly expensive. But then, Balian is an Arch Mage after all. Perhaps it was magic. 

The water was so cold it nearly burned and any lingering fatigue that clung to me was dashed away after the first splash against my face. I dressed in my traveling clothes and followed Orolde down the stairs to the main foyer and through the opened doorway to my left that led into the Dining Hall. Orolde led me to a corner on the far side of the massive chamber. He dully lifted a panel on the wall that revealed a latch. He pulled the latch to him and something heavy dropped in the wall and a narrow opening swung open to his right. 

“This way.” He said, never turning around to see if I was still there. He held out a fleshy, fat finger toward the opening and I obediently went through. 

It was a kitchen. A host of iron pots hung over brick ovens and metal basins filled with murky, plate and utensil infested water.

Orolde slumped over to the sink, took an already soaked oversized sponge from a hook and began the unpleasant task of washing the master’s dishes. 

“I thought you told me Balian wished to see me.” I said after watching the little man plodding away at his chore for several minutes. 

“The Master is on his way. Just wait.” It was the last thing I heard from the Gnome for the remainder of the day. 

I stood by one of the brick ovens and forced myself to relax. This was an opportunity to practice patience and humility. The Master shall appear whenever and wherever he wishes. My thoughts drifted to Hu Li. Such an irascible, petulant, inpatient sot he was. Such arrogance. Such hubris. It was a wonder to me that Balian put up with him for so long. I supposed Hu Li’s talent with arcanism superseded his irritating personality shortfalls. “Potential for exaltedness resides in all things.” Canaan teaches us. “He who is swift to judge brings perdition to no other soul but his own.” 

Mine was not the place to condemn. Canaan had brought me here to learn. Hu Li had chosen his path. I could do nothing more than choose mine, and leave others to their own. 

A scratch broke me from my waking dream. Balian towered over me. One of his boney fingers, tipped with a sharply frayed nail, pushed into my shoulder. 

“Wake up, Apprentice!” He commanded. “Your training begins!” 

I stood immediately at attention and opened my mouth to utter an apology, but he did not give me the opportunity. 

“I abhor laziness.” He snapped. “Above all else.” 

Orolde had left. The dishes where completed. How long had I stood there, daydreaming like a common sloth? 

Balian held up a small brush. Its handle was no wider than the blade of a stiletto, and only a half dozen hairs drooped at the tip. An empty bucket was at Balian’s feet.

“This is your first lesson.” He said. “Fill this bucket full of clean water and lye and wash the whole of my kitchen floor with this brush.” He thrust the brush into one of my hands.

“I shall return in an hour to see how you are doing.” 

He left. 

I started looking for a source of water and found a short downward staircase that twisted toward a narrow door. Upon opening it I discovered a pump. An opened burlap bag of lye squatted near it. Minutes later it was filled and sufficiently sudsy. 

I returned to the kitchen and began my task. I got down on my hands and knees, dragged the filled bucket close to me and dipped the brush in the water. I focused in the first corner and scrubbed. I did not stop until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Helena’s soft, seductive face grinning down at me. She held a plate of breads and fruit in her other hand.

I looked down at my own hands. They were as shriveled and white as a discarded cicada skin. I had managed to clean the majority of the floor, having only one small corner of it remaining. The kitchen was awash with the stinging fragrance of lye. 

“You’re doing very well, Evora.” Helena cooed. “Balian is most impressed.” 

I looked around, hoping to see him, but he was nowhere in sight. Helena sensed my preoccupation and held out the plate of food in front of me.

“This is from him. You have been at this task for nearly three hours. When Balian came to check in on you, he told me you were so enrapt in your task, you paid his presence no notice. That shows focus. He likes focus.” She smiled encouragingly.

My head was blurred by the fumes. She was claiming I had focus, but in that moment, I only felt drunk.

“You should eat.” She said, taking up a slice of bread and shoving it in my mouth. I bit down. It was sweet and soft as a lamb’s wool. I had never tasted better. 

I was soon on my feet, relishing the plate of succulent food. Helena explained that I had not heard the breakfast gong. When Orolde came to investigate, he saw me still engulfed in my work that he hadn’t the heart to interrupt me. 

“I, on the other hand,” Helena told me, “thought it was bordering on the cruel.”

After my plate was cleared, Helena took it from me, placed it in the sink and left me. I returned to my work. The moment I had brushed the last square of floor, I heard footsteps behind me. I stood to find both Helena and Balian standing at the middle of the kitchen. Helena was smiling. Balian was giving the floor a slow once over. After a short silence he exhaled heavily and nodded.

“Looks good.” He finally said. “You must be off. Your friends are waiting for you and it is time to put this sacrifice business to an end. When you return, your studies will continue.” 

He spun around and glided out. Helena remained. She tossed me a towel and I dried my hands on it.

“You are very kind, Lady Helena.” I told her.

“Not at all.” She scoffed. “And I am no lady.” 

I finished drying my hands and placed the towel on a hook.

“What do you know of the Urgic Mystics?” I asked her.

“Very little.” She admitted with a sly smile. “That’s Balian’s territory. Not mine.”

“But you cavort with devils.” I said. “And in so doing blend the divine with the arcane, do you not?” 

“I suppose.” She said noncommittally. “I suppose one could see it that way.” 

“How do you see it?” I asked her. She smiled and grew strangely quiet. 

“You’re well versed in Canaan’s Scriptures, are you not?” She asked me. 

“Of course.” I answered.

“How did Canaan create the world?” 

“By His will. By His love.” I said.

“Spoken like a true servant.” She said, her voice a tinge rougher. “What if I were to tell you that the world was not created through love, but through theft?” 

The word “blasphemy” flashed in my mind with a force and brightness of a thousands suns at their zenith. Had I been an Inquisitor or a Justicar, I would have had no choice by to imprison the witch for her heresy. But I had left such reflexive, reactionary judgments behind when the Curia forced me into exile. Though bile inched its way up my throat at her utterance, I remained silent and allowed her to continue with her story.

“Before Turgos, before Canaan, there was Law and Chaos. They were not like gods, they were something else entirely, something truly eternal. While no one is certain where Canaan came from, what they are certain of is what He did. He wished to create a world, so he went to Chaos, the power of creation, who dwelled in the eternal darkness of the Abyss, and, it is said, asked for the power’s aid in the creation of a world. When Chaos refused Canaan’s request, He simply took a pocket of The Abyss and used it to create Turgos. 

By the time Chaos became aware of this theft, The Adversary had begun his rebellion in Heaven. The rebels were expelled from Heaven. And Canaan stole some more of The Abyss to create Hell at the bottom of which laid the Lake of Fire. It was there Canaan cast The Adversary and his rebellious host. Canaan’s justice twisted their beautiful bodies into hideous forms, their melodic voices into cries of fury and hatred. The light became dark and the sublime, wicked. The fallen angels became devils.

Chaos was enraged by this twice-theft; it took form and called its form Demogorgon, the progenitor of all demons. Demogorgon created a host of demons to make war on the upstart, Canaan. 

It was at that time that The Adversary escaped through the gates of Hell and implored Demogorgon to show it the location of Turgos. The Adversary whispered to Demogorgon its plan to taint Canaan’s creation on Turgos and cause it to turn against Canaan. The Adversary was skeptical of such an intricately indirect attack on The Great Thief, but allowed The Adversary one chance to make his plan work. The Adversary failed. 

And being the most impatient and furious of its kind, Demogorgon lashed out at The Adversary for this failure. But The Adversary was no stranger to betrayal. He was ready for Demogorgon’s attack. And wary of fighting that great being on its own turf, The Adversary immediately fled back to Hell. 

A great war ensued between Hell and The Abyss. This great Bloodwar continues to this day. But neither power forgot Canaan and their hatred for Him. In fact, while The Adversary may have been unsuccessful in tainting Canaan’s creation, he was successful in bridging the divide between Hell and Turgos in such a way that Hell could access Turgos without going through The Abyss. Fearing the eventual betrayal by Demogorgon that it knew would come, this portal, this Jacob’s Ladder, would serve the forces of Hell to further their efforts to corrupt the humans and others of Turgos. But it had another purpose as well. For The Adversary did not stop building the ladder at Turgos. No, he continued building to Heaven.

Millennia later, The Adversary used Jacob’s Ladder to invade Heaven. But Canaan was ready. Canaan’s heavenly hosts, immortal and dazzling arcons, angels and devas, met the hordes of fiends and eventually triumphed over the fallen rebel army. The surviving devils retreated to Hell and Canaan smashed Jacob’s Ladder between Heaven and Turgos and posted the Angel Dariel at what had been the top of Jacob’s Ladder to watch for eternity should The Adversary try that trick again.

But the portion of Jacob’s Ladder between Hell and Turgos remained intact. It continues to exist to this day, a place of great evil, a hellmouth. It resides under a place at the center of The Wildlands, called Rappan’Athuk.

Over the centuries, devils came and went freely from Rappan’Athuk into Turgos, their efforts to taint mortals becoming ever more successful. Some of the more powerful of their kind became worshipped as gods. 

Eventually, Demogorgon learned of Jacob’s Ladder, and it launched its own plan to wrest it from Hell. Demogorgon sent the first and most powerful of demons—formed from its own flesh—to Turgos to guard Jacob’s Ladder and assure that no devils came and went from that place, effectively choking off fiendish ingress and egress in Turgos. That demon is like no other of its kind. It is nearly as old as Demogorgon and contains the spark of eternity that is Chaos, as this demon was formed from Chaos made form. This Cthonic being is known as Orcus, and its might is terrible, indeed. 

As time passed, the devils trapped on Turgos battled Orcus to no avail. They either failed or became diminished enough that Canaan was able to imprison the survivors in a deep slumber from which they would never awake. They became known as the Sleeping Gods of Shuuth, as they are in that land, still worshipped. And so, due to Demogorgon’s intervention, using the Cthonic being Orcus, only the most powerful of devils may translate to Turgos on their own, but even then it is only at great personal cost that they may do so. Others must be called or summoned or otherwise bound by willing mortals who take great personal risk at doing so.

Sages theorize that Orcus cannot leave Rappan’Athuk without leaving Jacob’s Ladder unguarded. And it is for this reason alone that he has not made war on Turgos. Others theorize that Orcus is in league with the forces of Hell and that The Abyss and Hell are working together to corrupt humanity. And yet others claim that Hell plots to topple Orcus’s reign over Rappan’Athuk to be allowed unfettered access to Turgos. Above all, however, one thing is certain; that is, with so much attention focused on this tiny world, something is going to give…eventually.” 

*****

I told no one else of Helena’s story. It was so unbelievable, so utterly preposterous. There was nothing before Canaan. He created the world. He created mankind in His own image. Nothing existed before Him. These were lies. They had to be. 

Yet, even then I recall back now as I write this, Helena's story evoked a visceral reaction in me. I remember perspiring at the memory.

Afterward, while I was cleaning up in an adjacent antechamber to one of Balian's vast libraries, I overheard Balian instructing Hu Li. Curiosity got the better of me and I silently padded around the corner to get a peek.

I saw Balian holding open an ornately carved ebony wooden box. 

"This is a powerful weapon of magic that should not be used lightly." I could hear Balian instructing Hu Li in his characteristically shrill voice. "Your foes, if encountered together, will be too much for you and your firends." He continued.

Hu Li's lip curled in derision. "Oh master, please! We slew them like lambs to the slaughter. My powers are more than a match for those fools."

Balian straightened and inhaled as if to blast Hu Li with a series of scathing insults. But instead, his voice became deeper and stern. The wild look was gone from his face, replaced by a stoic mein. In a measured and grave tone, Balian spoke to his apprentice. "These foes are beyond you Apprentice. Do not let Hubris be the source of your destruction. You face a fanatic Priest of Orcus and a powerful knight, one known as a Black Guard in service to that fell being, and not least of all, you face an Aquan Sorceress of some skill. Together, they will destroy you."

Hu Li's jaw dropped.

So did mine.

I never heard Balian speak so lucidly and what he had to say was bone chilling. We were in way over our heads.

The wild look and shrill voice returned, "neutralize the Black Guard while you and your friends deal with the Priest and Sorceress. But do it at the beginning of the battle, before your friends are anywhere near them. If you meet these three together in a room it will already be too late."

"Yes, yes, master. I will do as you say." Hu Li rolled his eyes and casually reached for the box.

"This is VERY important! Do not PATRONIZE me!" Balian was frothing at the mouth as he screamed and backhanded Hu Li across the face. 

"Yes Master! You are right Master! I am foolish Master! I deserve to be disciplined Master!" Hu Li sycophantically yelped as he cowered, covering his face.

Balian sighed. "I don't know why I put up with you. You are an arrogant fool!"

Balian closed the box with a snap and held it out to Hu Li. "Here. Take it. Do not disappoint me, Apprentice. Do not disappoint Turgos." At that, Balian turned to leave.

I ducked back around the corner and pretended not to have heard the exchange. Balian glowered as he passed by, seeming to not have noticed me. I sighed in relief.

******

We rode back to Goldfire Glen in silence. Gabriel and Hu Li’s debates had mercifully ended. Hu Li had acquired a pet that clung to his shoulder. A small, yellow ferret he named “Greater Daemon.” 

“It is a gift from my Master.” he told us. “Greater Daemon shall serve as my familiar, yes…” 

Before the sun had completely set, we had rode into the village streets and come to the door of the Feisty Fox, where we had planned on collecting Aesendal. We dismounted our horses and strode up to the door of the tavern.

It was locked. 

When we knocked there was no answer. 

“Did you hear that?” Asked Gabriel. None of us had heard anything untoward. “Inside. It’s Aesendal. Stand back.” 

We obeyed. Gabriel stepped up to the door, took in a long, deep breath and brought two fists up over his head. With a shout, he pounded his fists downward onto the door’s bolted latch. 

With a great crack the latch split in twain and fell to the landing. The door swung open. 

We ran in to find the Shuuthian shopkeeper bound to a chair in the center of the tavern. Aesendal was standing over him, a hand raised as if to strike. 

The sorcerer’s gloves had been removed, exposing his hands. We all halted at the sight. Aesendal’s hands had mutated. They are covered with brass scales to the wrist and each finger bore sharp talons the length of a robin’s wing feather. His reptilian eyes were ablaze with fury. 

The Shuuthian saw us and cried out. 

“Please!” He said. “This man is mad! He is accusing me of the most horrible things! He is going to torture me! Please stop him! I am innocent! I am innocent!” 

Aesendal retracted his claws, but struck the man across his cheek with the back of his scaled hand. The shopkeeper’s head snapped to his side and he fell unconscious.

Gabriel and Lilian rushed up to the enraged sorcerer. 

“His was the only structure in all of Goldfire Glen found untouched!” Aesendal was shouting. “He knew! He knew what was coming! He’s in league with them! I know it!” 

I quickly checked on the shopkeeper and found, though bruised by the strike, he was otherwise unharmed. 

“He is evil!” Aesendal continued in a mad rage. “You said so yourself, Lilian! He needs to be punished!” 

“And he will be.” Lilian answered softly. “He needs to be turned over to the Baron for questioning.”

“No!” Spurted Hu Li, who now stood by Aesendal. “He needs to be dragged into the square and skinned alive. Then the shavings from his flesh should be boiled in his own blood and fed to the children who were left starving and parentless by this attack.”\

The outburst left the rest of us stunned into silence. I admit, though I appreciated his sentiment and desire for justice, the vision he inspired was no better than the depravity the Cultists had left behind.

“There has been enough blood.” I finally said. 

“What do you know, priest?” Hu Li slithered. “This is not even your home. You’re an outcast. A transient. A pariah…”

“Enough!” Lilian commanded. “We will turn this man over the proper authorities and that is final! We do not torture people here. That is not our way!” 

No one argued. Gabriel nudged Aesendal over to the bar and poured him a pint of beer. The sorcerer chugged the draught down and proceeded to cover his scaled hands with his gloves. Curiosity got the better of me and I moved closer to hear their conversation.

“What is happening to you?” Gabriel asked Aesendal.

“Our home has been ransacked. Friends murdered…”

“No, I mean with your hands. Your eyes. You’re changing.” Gabriel persisted. “What manner of creature are you, Aesendal?”

“I am human. Just like any other.” His answer was short and terse. He moved from the bar up over to the Shuuthian. 

“Get this scum out of here.” He said. 

A message was sent to the village guard and within an hour Captain Tiberon arrived at the Feisty Fox with a small contingent of soldiers and arrested the shopkeeper, who had since regained consciousness and went with the soldiers without a struggle. 

Gabriel apologized to Aesendal for breaking his lock. He told him we all thought he was in danger. Aesendal ignored the apology and quickly constructed a crude beam from a slab of wood and, with Gabriel’s help, nailed the plank over the door of his tavern. 

The inn secured, we mounted our horses and rode into the forest outside the village, making our way to secluded abode of Talon’s master, where both the stoic monk and the afflicted druid, Shale, awaited our return.

When we arrived, we were greeted at the door by a most welcomed sight. Shale was up and about and smiling healthfully.

“Those mushrooms worked.” He said. “Talon’s master concocted a deeply tinctured paste from the gills of the fungus and fed it to me. Within hours the toxin had left me.” 

“Where is Talon?” Lilian asked. 

“Out gathering wood with his master. Please, come in and sit down.” 
Shale had brewed some sweet, tan tea and poured each of us a small cup’s worth. 

Talon and his Master soon returned. Over more tea and some stale, but flavorful biscuits, Lilian and Gabriel led the discussion filling in the others as to what had transpired at Balian’s Tower.

“You must make haste and rescue Tanner.” Talon’s master told us. “I may not subscribe to the dogma of Canaanism, but innocence is innocence, and has great power to those who wish to distort and abuse it, be they Green, Arcane, Infernal or otherwise. Whatever the Cultists are planning to do to that boy, it must not come to pass.” 

Shale and Talon gathered their supplies and mounted their own horses. The sun had long since set by the time we were on our way. As we passed the outskirts of Goldfire Glen, we spotted two horsemen galloping urgently toward us. Lilian drew her sword and I grabbed hold of my mace as the other riders narrowed the gap between us. Shale had his hand on the pommel of his scimitar and both Gabriel and Talon had stiffened, ready to strike.

Hu Li and Aesendal could both be heard quietly chanting. 

As the two riders closed in, the small amount of moonlight that illuminated them revealed their coat of arms to be those of Goldfire Glen and the Baron. Lilian sheathed her sword and held up a hand in greeting. 

“Lady Lilian!” One of them called. “Is the priest amongst you named Evora Faro?” 

All eyes turned to me. 

“Yes.” She answered for me. 

“I am Evoro Faro.” I said, inching my horse closer to the Baron’s men. 

“The prisoner, the Shuuthian shopkeeper, he demands to see a Canaanite Priest. He refuses to speak of his crimes to any other until he has had an audience a Priest. You are the only Priest in Goldfire Glen qualified to take confession. We are glad you haven’t left yet.”

“More delays and trickery.” Aesendal hissed. “Ignore him. We cannot be delayed a moment longer!” 

“No.” Lilian responded quietly. She locked eyes with one of the town guards. “Lead the way. We will meet with him. If his testimony, be it a confession or not, provides any insight into the plans of our adversaries, then I wish to know of it.” 

“This is a mistake.” Said Gabriel, but he was ignored as we galloped behind the two guards.

In the flickering shadows of torchlight, we were all led down to the cell where the shopkeeper was being held. It was agreed, after much debate, that all of us were to attend this meeting, despite the prisoner’s demands. 

He was sitting quietly in the center of his cell, his eyes closed, his breathing relaxed and almost content. 

When he opened his eyes and beheld us all standing just beyond the bars of his cell, he sneered. 

“I will speak only to the Priest.” He said. 

“You will speak to all of us.” Lilian answered firmly. “We understand you wish to confess your sins. A priest is here to listen to your declaration of guilt.”

“Confession?” Said the Shuuthian, twisting his mouth into a wide grin. “Of my sins? Of MY sins?” His voice took on a commanding but feminine voice.

He suddenly stood, his eyes black as pitch. His clothes were ripped from him by some invisible force as he shed his polymorphed form, revealing a supple, milky white feminine body, fully exposed and free of any shame. Black bat wings spread out from behind the back of the creature. Long, silky hair, the color of the night sky, draped over a transmogrified face. Two tiny horns protruded from the fiend’s head. A forked tail slapped the ground behind it, sending up a cloud of dirt and dust. 

Ruby lips smiled showing gleaming, white fanged teeth. 

“I HAVE SINNED AGAINST CANAAN HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF TIMES. HIS LAWS MEAN NOTHING TO ME. CANAAN IS NO MORE THAN A COMMON THIEF. WHAT RIGHT DOES HE HAVE TO JUDGE ME? IT IS CANAAN WHO MUST ATONE FOR HIS SINS! THE TIME IS NIGH FOR THE TRUE GODS OF OLD TO TAKE BACK WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM THEM! CHAOS WILL REIGN ON TURGOS AND CANAAN’S FAVORED CREATION WILL BE SNUFFED OUT OF EXISTENCE, LIKE THE BOY’S SOUL! AND SO IT WAS AND SO IT SHALL BE! THAT WHICH WAS OURS WE SHALL ONCE AGAIN CLAIM! CANAAN’S THEFT SHALL BE AVENGED! YOU ARE ALREADY TOO LATE!” 

She cackled cruelly as she faded from sight. 

Lilian focused on the spot where the demon once stood. 

“She is gone.” Lilian said. 

“I should have killed that thing when I had the chance!” Aesendal spat. 

“You never had that chance.” I told him. “That thing is a succubus, a very powerful fiend of the Abyss. We are no match for it. It is merely toying with us.”

I turned to Lilian. 

“I fear your brother and Aesendal were right. This was nothing more than a ploy to delay us.” 

Lilian nodded. 

“Then we shall delay no longer. Shale…” she said turning to the druid. “I beg of you, lead us through the Wildlands. Tanner waits to be rescued. We will not be so easily distracted again.” 

Replaying the succubus’s words in my mind and remembering Helena’s tale, I shuddered. Doubt had taken seed. I feared what it might become.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 15: Hu Li's Madness*

For three days we unremittingly rode, stopping only to sleep for a few precious hours before saddling up again and continuing into the Wildlands. Shale expertly escorted us past many potentially fatal encounters. Without the druid and the Green’s aid, I fear we would have never reached Tanner.

As it was, we closely followed the directions provided to us by Balian and Helena’s scrying, and caught sight of the ruined tower as the sun was setting in the East. Its sole parapet was crumbling above the tops of a wide copse of trees. Both Gabriel and Talon swore they saw movement on the parapet. It was humanoid, they said, gaunt and bent.

We proceeded with great caution. At Lilian’s suggestion, we dismounted and led our mounts closer to the base of the tower as quietly as possible. 

It was built within a clearing. A short, disintegrating wall, no taller than an adolescent, surrounded the tower’s base. Several hide tents with wood beams and siding had been hastily raised between the path that entered the clearing and large wooden door reinforced with iron banding at the tower’s only ingress. 

We tethered our horses to some tree trucks several hundred paces from the clearing and convened to plan our assault.

Gabriel and Talon would scout ahead and determine if any Cultists were currently residing in any of the tents. If there was any sign of them, the two would return immediately with as detailed a report as possible. All were in agreement and the scouts initiated the plan.

Many minutes passed in silence. I quietly prayed to Canaan to aid us in the coming fight, and to keep Tanner safe and free from fear. Something tugged at the back of mind. 

Lilian stood by her horse, lost in thought. Shale sat at the base of a tree, his legs folded in a lotus position, his eyes closed. Aesendal kept pacing back and forth at the edge of our ad-hoc enclave, while Hu Li quietly petted and cooed at Greater Daemon. 

A shout rang out as a cultist pushed open the flap of one of the tents only to see Gabriel skulking about. Gabriel leapt to the attack, grappling the poor sot in a strangle hold, while the cultist’s fellows armed themselves and readied to attack the brawler.

Movement in the other tents signaled that they had been alerted to their fellow’s cries. Seeing a cultist emerging from a nearby tent, Talon dropped into a roll and swiped the feet out from under the unsuspecting miscreant. He dropped prone and Talon finished him with a flurry of blows as he tried to get up.

Lilian spurred her horse into the fray, slicing through a charging cultist as his swing went wide. His eyes widened and he dropped his longsword. Lilian had sent another soul screaming back to the Abyss. She prayed to Canaan that his divine justice be served this day.

Three of the cultists emerged from another tent and charged Gabriel. Effortlessly, he broke the neck of the grappled cultist, but his attention so taken, he did not notice his fellows closing on him. One of the cultists from inside the tent jabbed a spear at Gabriel’s side, causing him to gasp in pain as he dropped the strangled corpse. One of the three cultists charging him managed to open a wound down his arm as he dodged and parried, tumbling to regroup out of harm’s way.

Hu Li’s shrill voice could be heard sucking in words, rather than uttering them. A summoned dog appeared moments later and dropped one of the cultists harrying Gabriel.

Then the air became moist and the smell of freshly tilled earth filled my nostrils as Shale’s thick voice drifted on the wind. Vines twisted and writhed around the ankles of the remaining cultists, while Gabriel and Talon managed to leap out of the way at the last moment. So _entangled_, the cultists were no match for us. They all perished.

After the last cultist fell, both Gabriel and Talon padded up to us, slightly winded. 

“The tents are covered in weird symbols.” Gabriel added. “Painted with blood.” 

Hu Li took an interest.

“What sort of symbols?” He asked with repressed excitement.

“I have no idea.” Impatiently answered Gabriel. “But it appears the tents are made out of human skin. We saw faces stretched and tanned in the fabric. Does that delight you as well, Hu Li?” 

Hu Li started to nod and betray a smirk, but upon seeing our horrified faces staring back at him, he quickly modified his reaction and feigned unconvincingly a disturbed seeming. 

“If we are to act, we should act now.” Talon said.

“Yes.” Answered Lilian, sauntering up on her horse. “The way is clear. They won’t see us coming.” 

Shale spoke a word and the roots and vines stopped writhing. I readied a blessing and took hold of my mace as we snuck forward into the clearing. The way to the tower’s entrance was clear. We were almost upon it when we were all startled and shaken from our duty by a sweet, gentle and lulling song that floated down from the roof of the tower like a placid, cool rainfall that comes after years of drought. 

The dark night sky transformed into day, and floating before the sapphire firmament was a dazzling beauty, laced in flowing amber silks, and bearing great, silvery feathered wings. Her song was boring into me ever so gently, ever so lovingly, as, where I cannot recall a single note or word of it, I fondly remember the feeling it instilled in me. 

That fondness only adds to the revulsion, for a second voice radiated somewhere deep within me. It demanded I combat the intoxicating effects of the music, for if I failed to do so, I was destined to perdition. 

At that moment the bright blue skies plummeted back into night’s darkness and the beguiling beauty twisted into a horrid creature. The robes became a tattered, mud-caked jacket of brown feathers. The milky, smooth legs mangled into bald, vulture’s feet. The alluring, cherubic face melted into a desiccated, scarred visage of a hag. 

The song too died, replaced by a shrill caw. 

A harpy, and it was hungry for flesh.

It plummeted down, going straight for Lilian. She dove out of its path, but not before it reared back up, digging its extended talons into her back. Lines of blood erupted from Lilian’s ravaged back and she fell to the ground.

I ran over to her, praying to Canaan for His healing grace. Her wounds healed instantly. 

I heard the melee around and above me. Hu Li was begging the others to stop their assault on the harpy. 

“Come, my love!” He kept repeating. “I am yours! Don’t you see her? She is an angel! Behold her celestial breasts! Golden as the dawn! Full of healing sustenance! How can you be so cruel? How can you be so heartless?” 

Clearly he had been taken by the harpy’s song and was hopelessly absorbed by its enchantment.

Aesendal pointed a finger at the creature and a gray beam erupted from it. The creature flew upward and twisted clear of the beam’s path. 

Shale had crouched behind one of the tents and began cawing and screeching, looking expectantly into the sky, calling on The Green for one of nature's allies. Answering his call, a giant eagle appeared in the sky, screeching angrily as it fell toward the harpy.

Gabriel and Talon grabbed hold of bits of debris, pieces of the ruined tower that littered the ground, heaving them at the creature. It availed us little as the beast remained aloft, safely out of the range of their throws. 

Suddenly the creature dove earthward. In a flash it grabbed Hu Li by its talons and shot upward. Shale’s summoned eagle tore at the beast’s face, digging its ample beak and sharp claws deep into it. The harpy howled in pain, slashed at the eagle with its hands and held all the tighter onto Hu Li.

It vanished from view as it cleared the tower’s roof. 

Lilian rose to her feet. We all looked up toward the top of the tower. Shale, Aesendal, Lilian and I, looked on helplessly as Talon and Gabriel climbed up the walls of the tower in a desperate attempt to reach Hu Li before he was consumed in his ecstasy by the harpy. 

We could all hear the wizard’s exaltations. 

“Yes!” He cried. “Oh! Your breasts! Such jewels! Such succulent mangoes! Take me! Take me to your blissful domicile, my angel! I am yours for always! My life! My love! Take my seed and shower it over your children! I am yours!” 

I secretly thanked Canaan that I was privy only to the sound of the unholy copulation; for I feared had my eyes beheld the act, recovery from such a vision would have been unattainable. 

I heard the harpy let out a squeal of rage, followed immediately by a loud crack of bone. 

Hu Li erupted into a prolonged outburst of complete ecstasy. 

Gabriel’s disgusted face appeared over the edge of the tower’s roof. 

“The harpy’s dead!” He said. “I broke its neck.”

Talon’s face peered down next to Gabriel. 

“Stay where you are.” The monk said looking back at Hu Li. “We are coming down.”

“What of Hu Li?” Asked Lilian. 

The two men gave each other a quick glance. 

“He’ll be fine.” They said at the same time. 

After collecting a few dozen coins and some jewels that the harpy had hoarded, Talon, Gabriel and Hu Li climbed back down using some tethered together ropes they had found near the beast’s nest. 

Hu Li was covered in some unmentionable substance. He reeked of vulture dung blended with an all but overpowering scent of rotting mackerel. Greater Daemon, who had fallen from his master’s shoulders when the harpy nabbed him, skittered up Hu Li’s robe, popping out behind the hood and draping himself over Hu Li’s shoulder.

Aesendal moved up to the soiled wizard muttering an arcane poem while waving his hands over the stains in Hu Li’s robe. A prestidigitation. An instant later, the smell and stains evaporated.

“That thing was guarding this place. If the Cultists are here,” said Lilian “Then they know we are as well.”

I looked up at the sky, the stars twinkled in the black soup above me. The moon was nowhere to be seen. The urgency of the moment suddenly clamped down on me like a rabid hound’s jaw. 

It was the night of the new moon. There was no doubt the sacrifice of Tanner had begun. 

“We must hurry.” I said. 

We all moved to the tower. Gabriel motioned for us to stop an wait as he strode over to the tents and picked up a large, flat sheet of wood. He returned, planting it down in front of the door.

“Everyone behind the wood,” he whispered. “I heard voices from in there. They are waiting for us.”

We did as he suggested. A moment later, from the side of the tower, Gabriel deftly opened the door with a thrust, not exposing himself to the entrance. A series of well-aimed arrows erupted from the bows of several cultists who had been laying in wait, just as Gabriel predicted.

Thanks to Gabriel’s clever thinking, none of us were hurt. A short and rushed battle ensued as the brawler, the monk and Lilian charged the waiting cultists, who, armed with bows, were not ready for the assault. Lilian’s sword cleaved one of the unfortunate cultists, while Gabriel snapped the neck of a second, and Talon landed a flurry of blows on the remaining two.

A downward staircase greeted us. Aesendal and Hu Li both held spheres of light in their hands, illuminating the well hued, but plain stone walls and floor that surrounded us. 
Gabriel and Talon led the way through the shadows, Gabriel still holding on to the wood sheet. We moved ever so slowly, mindful of traps and other possible diabolical impediments.

It did not take long for one to show itself. Gabriel stepped on a loose pressure plate in the floor, triggering four crossbow bolts to fire out of the walls in front of us, but carrying the wooden sheet, the bolts harmlessly stuck into it instead of Gabriel and Talon. We continued on, much more alert.

We passed by a closed door in the wall to our left. It opened up to an empty room. Bare shelving units lined the walls and the floor was covered in shattered clay bowls, barrels and pots. 

Gabriel insisted on using the wooden sheet as a shield to block any other possible traps should they be tripped. Our pace slowed even further. Anxiety and worry over the fate of Tanner and the success of our foes threatened to utterly consume me. My thoughts drifted to Helena’s story of the supposed theft of Canaan, of the omen and dire warning from the succubus. If we failed, there would be no hope for Turgos, evil would reign and it would matter not what the true story of Creation was, for only fear, horror and despondency would rule our world. 

I heard a crack and thud in front of us. Gabriel and his wooden sheet had disappeared. We all looked to the floor to see a gaping hole set in the middle of our path. 

Gabriel had fallen in. 

He was unharmed, but once again, we were delayed. We dropped a rope down to Gabriel and helped him climb up. He did not hide his frustration.

“They’re crafty.” He said as he cleared the edge of the pit. “These villains.”

“Yes.” Hu Li chimed in. “No one would ever expect a pit in a dungeon. Most clever. Most inventive. Clearly they foresaw you lugging a door around with you and planned accordingly.”

I saw Gabriel’s knuckles turn white as he balled his hands into fists before taking hold of the door again.

Beyond the pit was a short landing that ended in a solid wall. 

We had reached a dead end.

As we turned about, at the end of the corridor, we all spotted what appeared to be torch light moving toward us. 

As it came closer I noticed it wasn’t a torch at all, but a skeletal head, immolated in red and orange flames. The head floated atop of humanoid frame, wrapped in strips of burial cloth. 

Lilian unsheathed her blade. Aesendal and Hu Li both began their evocations. I held aloft my Canaan Cross, lifting it in front of me, shouting, “Back! Back, foul spirit! Back to the pit from which you came!” 

The creature’s fleshless jaw opened up at my command and let out of high pitched cruel cackle. 

Gabriel and Talon leapt on it, but it merely pushed them to the side, flinging them up against the wall of the corridor, completely unimpeded. Shale ran forth, brandishing his scimitar. He sliced into the mummified hide of the creature, but it only laughed again. 

Hu Li took in a quick, unearthly breath, and a hound, haloed in a golden aura leapt from the ether and bit down on the monster. 

The fiend howled in agony. 

Aesendal took in his own deep breath and vomit forth a stream of acid that struck the creature square in the chest. It was flung back several feet and sent skidding on the floor. 

Lilian fearlessly bounded up to it. 

“In the name of Canaan,” She shouted “I _smite_ thee and send thee back to Hell!” 

Her blade was enveloped in a blinding white light. She plunged the blade clean through the creature, cutting deep. No blood emerged from the wound. It let out only a short cry. The flames extinguished from around the skull and its movements ceased. The skull fell loose from their conjured moorings and rolled along the floor. 

When it stopped it disintegrated into dust. 

Fighting down the urge to celebrate our victory and lose even more time as well as clarity, we ventured onward, doubly cautious. 

That cautiousness will prove nearly fatal.

Gabriel and Talon had fished the door out of the pit and Gabriel took hold of it again as he led the way through the dank corridors. 

We approached another room. Gabriel entered first holding the wooden shield in front of him so as to deflect arrow or bolt traps. We heard the sound of an underwater voice as Gabriel stiffened, encased in some sort of brackish film. The smell of rotten fish exuded from him and threatened to sicken us all.

At the sight of her brother, Lilian rushed into the room. None of us could see a thing with that damnable wooden shield Gabriel insisted on carrying blocking our view of the room’s denizens. More chanting could be heard.

A blade swung out, striking Lilian in the back as she rushed into the room. She crumpled to the floor. A tall man completely encased in a suit of black plate armor emerged from the side of the room into full view. He hovered over Lilian for a moment and raised his sword high over his head to strike a killing blow. His sword glowed with red runes along its blade. It hurt my eyes to look at them.

Aesendal interrupted the Black Knight’s death blow with a regurgitated torrent of acid that burned and sizzled on the man’s armor. The knight stepped back, bumping into Gabriel and knocking his wooden sheet loose.

I immediately spotted Tanner. The boy was bound to an altar painted with inverted pentagrams. 

A black and crimson robed priest moved up to the boy, bearing an ornate, jagged knife.

The priest sneered and turn toward me, brandishing the knife.

“Heathens!” He shouted. “Death to you all!” 

I ignored him and rushed up to the fallen Lilian. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw, huddled in a corner to the right of the room’s entrance a woman whose flesh was the hue of a sylvan pond. She was surrounded by a thin sheet of undulating liquid. 

She was chanting. Her voice was distant and muddled, as if she was completely submerged in water. 

The others bound into the chamber. Shale stared at the priest and uttered an incantation to reveal his true form. Shale gasped.

“Dark Fae.” He sighed and lunged at him, brandishing his scimitar. The dark elf parried the attack effortlessly with his own curved sword. 

Talon engaged the armored knight, but his bare hands and feet proved useless against the corrupted champion’s solid suit of black metal.

I called out to Canaan for his _blessing_. I felt His presence come to us in our time of need. But the Dark Priest quickly intoned his own _blessing_ to Orcus and Canaan’s light faded. 

I knelt over Lilian. She lay on her stomach, all but floating in a pool of her own blood that leaked from her back. I reached out to heal her, but was bowled over but the priest who flung himself at me in a mad rage. 

I seized my mace as our roll came to an end. I blindly swung out, catching only air.

A fist swung out above me. It landed on the priest’s cheek, sending him reeling back. I looked up to see Talon above me, his hand reaching out to me. I took hold of it and was pulled up.

“Lilian’s in trouble.” I told him.

“We all are.” Was his response. 

The battle ensued all around me. Shale and the dark fae, Priest of Orcus locked blades. Talon was still beating on the black knight, gaining no ground, but avoiding the villain’s blade with effortless ease.

The priest came back at Shale and me. This time I was ready. I caught the side of his head with my mace. He reeled back, but still stood.

“The boy’s soul shall be consumed!” He hissed, his voice bloated with madness. “You have failed!” 

Shale retreated from battle into the corridor and began howling like a wolf, calling out to The Green. Hu Li’s voice joined the cacophony as he brought into being a summoned haloed hound. Just then a wolf bounded past Shale as he completed his call to The Green to send aid. The canine and lupine bound into the room, growling angrily as they threatened the sorceress. 

But the sorceress had been busy, four water-soaked mirror images sprang into being around her and shifted slightly around the area where she stood. The _summoned monsters_ attacked with abandon. 

While they were thusly engaged, the sorceress worked more of her fell magic. With a word that sounded like a gurgle, she pointed and three watery globes of green water flew from her fingertips and pounded into Aesendal’s chest, interrupting his next attempt to breathe acid on the Black Knight.

Talon was having no luck against the Dark Knight. I was holding my own against the Priest. Then he called out, “Orcus, lord of darkness and night, your humble servant begs of you, smite this Canaanite’s sight!” A _blindness_ spell.

I felt a heavy darkness come over me and I prayed fervently that the will of Canaan overcome this dark priest. The light returned and I thanked Canaan for smiling upon me.

But the priest had turned his attention to Talon, leaving me a moment to act. I seized the moment and rushed to the cocooned Gabriel. Thinking quickly, I began to utter a short prayer to _purify food and drink_.

The black knight disengaged with the ineffective Talon and, cackling under his helm, plunged his red-runed blade down at me. I managed to parry the ebony hued sword with my mace, but the force of the blow reverberated through my arm, clear up to my shoulder. I bit down the pain, rolled clear of the knight and scrambled to my feet. 

Aesendal, who suddenly stood between me, took in a deep breath and let out a torrent of acid. It arched over Talon and rained down on the priest.

The priest did not scream. His face was instantly eaten away by the torrent and he fell into a burning clump of melted flesh. But he still breathed. 

The black knight howled, broke from his melee and angled in on Aesendal.

The sorceress, managing to elude the wolf and dog and with two _mirror images_ left, raised a hand and three more glowing globules of water shot forth, watery _magic missiles_, pummeling Aesendal, and throwing him up against a wall. 

I touched the watery bindings that held Gabriel. Light flickered around the odorous cocoon, then instantly flickered out. My effort failed. 

Hu Li summoned another hound. It joined its brother snapping at the legs of the sorceress. She was pulled to the floor, and the first dog vanished. 

Shale again called out to The Green for aid and another wolf appeared moments later to harass the Sorceress. He once again wielded his scimitar and joined the fray.

The dark knight kept his focus on the sorcerer. I called out to Talon who was standing near the knight, but it was too late. The knight spoke, “meet your death at _Murder_’s edge, wyrmkin.” The red-runes on the knight’s ebony blade flared as the blade sliced through the back of Aesendal’s neck. The sorcerer’s head rolled down his back and dropped to the floor. 

Talon howled and leapt on the back of the knight. I rushed the armored foe. Shale tumbled around to meet the knight on the opposite side of me. 

The tyrant was surrounded, but it was short lived. He lunged backward into the chamber’s wall, crushing Talon, who loosed his hold and fell to the floor, stunned.

Shale and I brought our weapons to bear against the knight, but our metal was deflected by the well crafted suit of armor that protected the villain. 

“Death comes! Death, so glorious. So beautiful!” 

The outburst did not come from either the sorceress or the knight. It had come from Hu Li, standing in the room’s entrance. The small case that Balian had given him was opened at his feet. He held a tiny bead of pulsing blackness between his fingers, a sickening mad grimace dominating his ivory face.

“Death to all who oppose the will of the Eyeless Hollow Ones! Yes!”

The sorceress’ eyes widened, but she could not leave as she was pinned by Shale’s wolf and Hu Li’s second dog, her _mirror images_ finally gone. 

Gabriel’s cocoon evaporated and he fell to the floor, taking in a labored, deep breath. 

Shale whipped around to look at Hu Li. Recognition dawned on his face. He went pale. “Everyone!” Shouted Shale. “Out! Now!” 

Gabriel turned, seeing Lilian’s corpse for the first time. His face contorted in pain and grief. He screamed out.

“Lilian! Nooooooooooooooo!” 

He ran to his twin sister, craddling her head in his arms and crying.

I looked to the boy, still bound to the makeshift altar. 

Talon tumbled from the room. Hu Li backed into shadows.

Shale ran for the door, but was tripped by the priest, giving the dark knight time to bring his blade, Murder, down to bear on him, cleaving his left shoulder to the bone.

I lunged for the boy. Tanner’s eyes opened as I draped my body over him, to shield him from the blast that was about to come.

There was no conflict within me. If by my dying the next Voice and Will of Canaan would survive, my life would have had some worth and I could go to Canaan in peace. 

Tanner looked up at me. He smiled. 

“Don’t be afraid.” I said. 

“There is nothing to fear.” He answered. “Canaan is with us.” His voice, though that of a child, held within it such a timeless wisdom and calm, that whatever lingering fear I may have had, was washed away. He would live. That much was certain. 

I was ready to die. 

I twisted my head around in time to catch Hu Li tossing the bead at the knight. It glimmered with a pitch black light from within. I turned my face away and closed me eyes. 

There was first a flash of indigo light, then an explosion. A concussive wave slammed into my back. I held Tanner close. 

Fire, steel and ice, all sensations of pain tore through me. 

A moment later it was over. I opened my eyes, ready to see the Face of Canaan smiling down at me, but what I saw was blood, bone and gore splattered on the walls around me.

Tanner laid under me, unharmed, his face serene and calm.

“You see?” He said. “We are safe.” 

The pain was so complete I could barely move, but I fought down the crippling agony and managed to roll over and stand. Aesendal’s body, so close to the epicenter of the blast, was completely destroyed, its remains painting one of the walls. 

Lilian’s body, twisted and burned, still lay on the floor. 

The knight stood in the center of the room, entirely encased in a smooth, iridescent indigo sphere. The priest's head was knocked into the side of the marble altar by the blast. It broke open his skull. He died.

Shale lay at the door, his back to me, but his face, staring blankly over his good shoulder, was completely turned about on a ruined neck.

Gabriel had been blasted from the room. He and Talon hurried in. Talon took hold of me. Gabriel took hold of his sister, still crying and in pain, both from the loss of his sister and Hu Li’s blast.

“Gabriel, we need you to be strong. Take the boy. He needs your help. He is an innocent. There will be time for all of us to grieve when this danger has passed.” Talon urged.

Gabriel whipped his head around, seemingly about to berate Talon, and at the last moment gathered his senses. Wiping away a tear, he unbound the boy and carried him out and Talon carried me out of the complex, barely conscious.

Just then, the room darkened. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I felt a heavy, thoroughly evil presence. A deep thick voice boomed. “You failed, priest! Your soul is mine!”

We heard an ethereal scream come from the corpse of the fallen dark fae priest and the sounds of chains followed. The screams got farther and farther away. After a few moments, we couldn’t hear them anymore and the darkness left the room. It returned to normal. Whatever that creature was that claimed the priest’s soul, I have no desire to meet it in my lifetime.

The blast from the _bead of force_ destroyed the summoned monsters and nature's allies harrowing the Sorceress, but left the Sorceress untouched. She stood. Hu Li muttered an incantation under his breath and re-entered the room, seemingly holding another pulsating black pearl in each hand. He faced the Sorceress cackling.

“Oh, no, my dear!” He was saying. “You’re going nowhere!” 

Talon and Gabriel turned back toward the sound, following it to the end of a hallway. 

The water sorceress was kneeling before Hu Li, her hands up in a sign of surrender. 

“I was merely a pawn!” She was saying. “I was merely his concubine. That is all! I know nothing else!” 

I was dropped to the floor. It was then I realized Gabriel had held me.

“You will tell us everything!” He said, lunging at the woman. Some film that surrounded her reflected his hands. She swallowed the urge to smile.

“Witch!” Cried Gabriel. “My sister is dead because of you! Tell us everything, or by Canaan, you will join her!” 

“Please!” She cried. “I know nothing! Show mercy! Show mercy!” 

She began to wave her hands about. Something sparkled betwixt her fingers. We all saw it. Hu Li was the first to respond.

He held up another black pearl in his fingers. He bent over the witch, menacing her with it. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” He said. “We’ll have none of that.”

Her hands stopped at the sight of the pearl. 

“Let her go.” I heard myself saying as I lay on the floor. 

All faces turned to me. 

“My sister is dead, Evora!” Cried Gabriel, as tears of rage bubbled into his eyes.

“I know.” I answered through my pain. “And you demand justice. I know. By letting her go, she will be forced to report back to her masters her failure to sacrifice Tanner. Whatever fate awaits her will be far worse than anything we can administer.”

There was a silence, a tacit agreement to what I had said. In the quiet, the sorceress scrambled to her feet and fled. 

“You had three of those things?” Gabriel asked Hu Li?

“No.” Hu Li responded simply. He snapped his fingers and the _silent images_ of the pearls vanished. “Simple trick. But it fooled her.”

I remember very little of what transpired between then and leaving the tower. 

Hu Li rode off on his own. He knew he had failed, though he somehow engineered a scenario that indicted Talon for the debacle. He mercifully did not stay long enough for any debate on the issue, but quickly announced that he must return to Balian to inform the Master what had happened. 

We were all pleased to see him go. 

“We must deliver the boy to Soliel.” I said. “I will also seek an audience with the Voice and Will. Lilian must be returned to us. Her fight here is not over. I am sure of it. I will request Canaan’s intercession to resurrect her. I only hope it will be granted.”

“You’re a fool.” Gabriel hissed. “She’s dead and what killed her is back in that tower. I can’t allow myself to just walk away and let him live. Only the Voice and Will has the power to raise a soul from the dead and he isn’t going to do it for a country bumkin of a priest, Evora!” 

“The shell he is encased in will fall away at some point.” Said Talon, interceding. “Engaging him will be suicide.” 

“Have patience, Gabriel.” I said, not taking Gabriel’s bait. “Have faith. Lilian will be returned to us. She would not want you to do this.”

“Don’t you dare speak for her!” His voice bellowed with rage and sorrow. He was devoted to nothing short of vengeance. “That thing deserves to die! Its bad enough we let that witch go! If we let him go as well, we will be complicit in whatever sins he commits from this day forward! If I die by his hands, at least I tried to stop him.” 

Gabriel turned and stormed away from us.

“Do not let anger consume you.” I called out after him. “That is the path to the Adversary!” 

“Let him go.” Talon said. “He has chosen his path. There is nothing else we can do.” 

I watched Gabriel vanish back into the tower. The corpses of Lilian and Shale had been draped over the saddles of their horses. I moved over to them and sprinkled holy water and oils over them while reciting a prayer that would keep them in gentle repose. 

Once I had finished, I looked back to the tower and recited a second prayer to Canaan, asking Him to guide Gabriel in his moment of crisis, and that should he die by the blade of the knight and the might of his own rage, that Canaan would be forgiving and compassionate. 

And then I openly wept.


----------



## Canaan (May 12, 2006)

*Chapter 16: The Exalted Child*

I watched the spot where Hu Li had disappeared down the road toward Goldfire Glen and Balian’s Tower for many silent moments. I wondered whether I would see him again, and whether I even wanted to. He killed nearly everyone. I confess I fantasized a whole epic play in those few minutes. Frescos of Balian stripping Hu Li of all his power, somehow stealing into himself like some arcane infused mosquito, washed over the walls of my mind's eye. Hu Li would be left devastated and alone, exiled from his own “church” and forced to wander the lands a toothless, emasculated pariah. 

The vengeful icons were extinguished when I felt a tug at my robe. 

“We should go,” the Exalted Child gently urged. He looked up at me with exigency, but tranquility. There was no fear, only urgency tempered with patience. It was unnerving, this child of but eight with the hushed wisdom and calm of a venerable ascetic. 

I glanced at Talon. The wisdom of his Master perhaps.

Talon, acknowledging my glance, began securing the bodies to his horse. With their corpses in a gentle repose, we would be spared the stench of their rotting flesh on our two week journey to Soliel. We could only manage to recover Lilian and Shale’s remains. There was too little left of Aesendal to gather. Pained as we were to conclude, we had no choice but to commit our beloved sorcerer’s soul to Canaan. 

I still didn’t know to what end we were taking Shale’s body to Soliel. It promised to be nigh impossible for the Curia to honor my request to have an audience with the Voice and Will of Canaan after they sentenced me to exile. And once a simple audience has been achieved, for the Voice and Will to perform the miracle on the caliber of resurrection might be just beyond the far reaches of hope. No Canaanite there would deign to raise a priest of The Green.

“Have faith.” Tanner said, as if reading my thoughts. “Canaan is with us. He is with you. But we must make haste.”

I checked my pack. We had more than enough smoked boar meat to last the journey. We had removed the saddles from the remaining horses and set them free. We scavenged what gear we could carry and left the rest behind. 

“I believe the boy is correct,” Talon breathed. “We should go.”

I nodded and mounted Lilian’s valiant steed. Talon heaved Tanner onto my lap, and grabbing hold of the animal’s reins, took his place walking at our side. 

Talon was not exactly talkative. And the boy. Well. He was eight. It promised to be a quiet journey. 

I was looking forward to it. But not its end. It would not be easy returning to Soliel and enduring a reunion with Archbishop Tagavarius.

**********************

The journey north along the road that skirts the edge of The Wildlands was relatively free from difficulty. Farms periodically dotted the landscape. It was otherwise unsettled rolling hillsides covered with low plain grass and wildflowers. We stayed away from the farms, however, given our macabre cargo. 

But that first night the strangest thing happened. I still don’t know for sure what it meant. But I feared I had angered Canaan so thoroughly that He would abandon me.

The three of us made camp and enjoyed a hearty meal of smoked boar jerky and water. Satiated, I readied myself to rest. I stole away behind a shrubbery with a full waterskin and rinsed away several days worth of dust and grime. I was looking forward to the solace that sleep would bring. It had been some time since I had fully rested. It was time to let go of the nightmare of the events of the past few days. Tanner brought me my bedroll. He helped me into it. There was something incongruous about his expression. 

He smiled. 

I hadn’t yet told the Blessed Child of Goldfire Glen’s devastation and of his parents’ death. I suspected he already knew. Not that I required of him some shallow show of grief, but I admit his profound calm at times caused my own untamed cauldron of emotions to boil over. His expression never wavered from the preternaturally serene. A tear let loose from my eye as I stared into the eternity of his gaze. He placed his small, warm hand on my chin. 

“Sweet dreams.” He said.

The recent day’s events replayed through my mind over and over again, delaying sleep. Soon natural fatigue took over and I drifted off to sleep. 

I had a most profound and disturbing dream that to this day confounds me as to its meaning. 

It was as though I was flying. From a high vantage I saw a large city bathed in bright, white light. In its center was a huge rectangular structure supported by dozens of massive white marble columns. A equally white marble veranda surrounded the outside of the structure and leading into it were giant archways, in many of which hung giant silky linen sheets, embroidered with symbols holy to Canaan. I knew the building. It was The Great Fane, the seat of Canaanism in the world. It is the home of the Voice and Will of Canaan in Turgos and the Headquarters of The Holy Temple. Holy white light streamed from within its confines and diffused into the white marble streets around The Great Fane, and a beam of white light shot into the sky from the center glass paned dome in its center.

On The Great Fane’s grounds, and across Sanctuary Park from it, was a decagonal white marble building, called The Inquisition. Each wall was decorated in gilded gold depicting each of the Ten Virtues of Canaan: Truth, Faith, Love, Courage, Liberty, Generosity, Charity, Justice, Mercy and Humility.

Standing in the center of each wall of The Inquisition stood A Knight Templar in full plate armor and ceremonial garb. The Guardians of the Inquisition. It is a most honored post, given only to the most devout and pure-hearted Knight Templars in all of Turgos.

To the west of Sanctuary Park and halfway between The Great Fane and The Inquisition stood a four-sided, white marble pyramid. This was Conclave Hall. It is here where the Curia meets to conduct official church business. 

Far to the north is the Royal Palace, made of grey stone. It is a huge and imposing structure, much larger than The Great Fane. But it always somehow paled in comparison to The Great Fane bathed in its divine glory.

I started descending toward The Great Fane, entering it through the beam of holy light shooting up from its central dome. I had no sense of myself. I felt weightless.

As I entered the light, I was bathed in it. It comforted me and made the pain of horrors and loss I had suffered recede a bit. I entered The Great Fane, but all I saw was light, white, radiant light. It was nearly blinding. In the light, I saw a giant, almost transparent unrecognizable face. I knew in my heart that it was Canaan. My heart filled to overflowing.

Canaan approached me, or I approached Him. I’m not really sure which it was. He was nearly close enough to whisper to me when he finally opened his mouth to speak. It was then that I noticed a thin dark line forming from his forehead, down his face and under his chin. He paused. Other thin lines began to form in his visage, like cracks in porcelain. I gasped. Suddenly, Canaan’s face exploded into several different pieces! I felt like my heart had just been wrenched from me. Then I woke with a start.

Tanner was sitting on his haunches next to me, haloed in the rays of the morning sun. He was staring at me, his face beaming. “Be not afraid.” He said. 

To this day I don’t know what this dream meant. But I am beginning to fear what it could have meant. Is it an omen of peril? Am I to be the death of Canaan? Impossible. But with each passing day, I feel farther from the ideals of the Curia. I have embraced the wisdom and legitimacy of The Green. I have indentured myself into the tutelage of an insane wizard and humored the blasphemous tales of a diabolist. Had I strayed so far? Was the Curia right in exiling me? Am I truly a heretic? The boy did not think so. He treated me with kindness and compassion. Was he in the end simply a naïve, sheltered innocent who knew no better? I needed penance. I needed to confess my sins to the Voice and Will. I no longer feared. I knew what I had to do. 

*********************

It was several days later that I met Justicar Platteous Dubois. He was with a contingent of priests, templars and masons who had been called to Soliel to spearhead the reconstruction of Goldfire Glen. We met them on the road between Goldfire Glen and Auros. Word had traveled to Soliel of its near destruction and the Curia was quick to respond. 

“Send in the justicars and the inquisitors!” 

It was their typical reactionary maneuver. I could almost hear them: “What we need there brothers is more discipline. Remove the cancer that breeds temptation. Purify Goldfire Glen in the name of Canaan and tolerate no deviance from His dictates.”

The peasants and farmers of Goldfire Glen will get a rude awakening that is for sure. Oh yes. I also met Goldfire Glen’s new priest. Father Ziegfried, a strict dogmatic disciplinarian with no love for The Green. He was among the contingent on its way to Goldfire Glen.” 

Baron Underhill will be livid.

Of course I was thinking all of this while otherwise engaged in pleasant, if short, conversation with the Justicar.

“May Canaan bless and protect you, father.” Justicar Dubois intoned with rote inflection. Yes. Leave it to a dogmatic Canaanite to say that which should be reserved for only the highest of honors and blessings as casually and with the same frequency as buttering bread.

“And you as well, Justicar.” I retorted, feigning exuberance. 

“I am Justicar Platteous Dubois, recently of the Village of Near Haven, now in the service of Goldfire Glen.” He continued, glancing at Talon, then the boy. 

I saw his eyes widen as he continued his scan toward the corpses tied to the back of Talon’s horse. Though we covered the bodies with as many blankets as we had, it was unmistakable what they were. I’m sure an errant foot or finger caught his eye in any event. I decided to head him off at the pass.

Walking over to the steed and removing the blanket covering Lilian with a flourish (leaving Shale’s body covered), I announced, “This is Lilian Evenshire of Goldfire Glen! Champion of Canaan!”

I heard mumblings as the priests, templars and masons gathered around. That surname was clearly known. I took the moment of their surprise to scan the crowd for familiar faces. Finding none, I continued.

“I am Evora Faro, Priest of Canaan. A make a pilgrimage to Soliel with the corpse of Canaan’s Champion who died in the defense of the Exalted Child!” 

There were more mumblings, laced with astonishment.

Justicar Dubois’s eyes were like saucers as he took in the boy. A moment later he was on his knees, head bent toward the ground.

“It is not possible!” he exclaimed exuberantly. “The Exalted Child is not lost! Praise be to Canaan and to his Champion Lilian Evenshire, Defender of the Faith!”

“Praise be to Canaan!” came the response from the assembled priests, templars and masons who had by now all mimicked the Justicar’s actions.

“And I bear the Exalted Child to The Voice and Will to personally present him to Canaan.” The last I could barely say without my voice cracking. 

An inquisitor was with them. He stood up and came over to me. “What happened after the child was kidnapped from Goldfire Glen? Tell me everything.”

I complied. Though I left out some details, what about Hu Li’s tryst with the harpy and about his blowing nearly everyone to bits. Though I did mention that both Orcus’s dark champion and his Aquan sorceress concubine may be on the loose, giving appropriate credit to Gabriel Evenshire for buying us time to get away with his selfless sacrifice. Though Talon nearly ruined it. In the middle of my narrative he raised his finger and opened his mouth as if to correct me before thinking better of it after I identified Shale as a retired officer in the King’s army and Talon as a pious mystic. It was a close call.

The Inquisitor quietly listened and after I completed my story, nodded.

“Clearly you are among the Chosen of Canaan.” He announced loud enough for the entirety of the contingency to hear. “Heroes of Goldfire Glen and Protectors of the Exalted Child, may Canaan guide your way to Auros and Soliel beyond. If you have need of company, I will dispatch three of our Templars to your aid.” 

Justicar Dubois grinned happily feeling the closeness of Canaan in our mere presence, having agreed with the Inquisitor’s decree that we are blessed by Him.

“No, good Inquisitor.” I said, raising a hand. “Canaan has granted us boons to get us to Auros and Soliel beyond. He has decreed that your Templars are best utilized in the service of Goldfire Glen. Go there and fulfill your duty to He who is Most Holy.” 

Though I relished the company and protections Templars would provide, this journey would be much too long for even patient Talon to watch his tongue in such orthodox company.

Soon the delegation was on its way singing praises to Canaan and to the Exalted Child. At the last, I could have sworn I heard a stanza or two about Lilian Evenshire and Gabriel’s sacrifice. 

***************

That night I slept well, but was suddenly thrust to full consciousness. There in the early dawn I was privy to a vision I will never forget.

Lilian’s and Shale’s bodies were laid out on the ground with the Exalted Child sitting cross-legged between them. Each hand was on the chest of one of the corpses. It could have been a trick of the rising sun behind the boy, but I was certain that a bright yellow glow enveloped him. His eyes were closed. As soon as the sun rose high enough above him the glow ceased. 

He opened his eyes and spoke. His voice was melodic, ethereal and androgynous.

“This one,” he indicated to Lilian, “is in a wonderful place. But Canaan wishes her return.”

I gasped and reached for my holy symbol out of instinct. It was not there. I glanced around and found it, glowing around Lilian’s neck. The boy hand laid a finger upon it.

Talon merely stared at the child, expressionless.

“This one,” he indicated to Shale, “will return, but not by Canaan’s grace. It will, however, be with Canaan’s blessing.”

I just sat and stared open-mouthed for a moment. “How do you know?” I breathed.

“Canaan has told me.” He smiled. “Have faith, Evora Faro. You are still loved by him.”

Then his smile lessened somewhat. “Gabriel is not with Canaan. A petition has been made. Someone wishes to intercede.”

Talon raised an eyebrow.

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“Someone wishes to place him or herself in Gabriel’s place, so that he may be granted a chance at redemption.” He continued, like a patient teacher would for a young student.

I could not believe this child was speaking directly with Canaan. Canaan was here. Present. The enormity of it all was too great to think about. “Who are you?” I asked tentatively.

The boy collapsed. Light continued to emanate from my holy symbol around Lillian’s neck. Once I was absolutely sure that no harm had befallen the boy, I gently removed the holy symbol from around Lillian’s neck and placed it on mine, where it continued to glow.

I began my morning prayers, but stayed close to the boy. 

As Talon prepared breakfast, the boy peacefully slept. 

****************

We had a heralded arrival in Auros. Throngs of people crowded the streets and tossed flowers at us. Banners hovered over the streets. They read: “Welcome to Auros Heroes of Goldfire Glen, Protectors of the Exalted Child.”

I will never understand why we are heralded as heroes. Had we been sharper, we might have prevented the wholesale massacre of Goldfire Glen.

A contingent of Templars greeted us and we were escorted directly to Devonhilt Keep. The Duke stood atop the grand stairs that lead up to the imposing entrance to the keep. The Duchess stood next to him. Several others stood with them, the usual royal retinue of advisors, viziers and guards.

We dismounted at the bottom of the stairs and climbed up. I was nervous, having never been the subject of such attention. But the Duke was disarming. He greeted us with a hearty smile and clap on the shoulders. 

“Welcome to Auros. I am Duke Devonhilt and this is my lovely wife, Clarisse.”

“Duke. Duchess.” I bowed to each respectively. “I am Evora Faro, Priest of…“

“Yes, I know.” Turning to Talon, he added almost enthusiastically, “and you are the pious mystic, Talon.” His gaze darkened a bit as he indicated Talon’s horse and its morbid load at the bottom of the massive steps. “I am sorry for your loss. The passing of the Evenshires and of Shale is a grievous loss for all of us, after what they have done for this kingdom.” 

Perhaps in answer to the questioning incredulity in my face, he added, “We received word of your coming several days ago. Your reputation precedes you. The people of Auros have been a titter with excitement at the news of your impending arrival for a few days now. You will stay in the keep tonight as guests of honor. We will be dining in celebration of your arrival this evening.” 

“Oh, but no.” I began. “We must continue on to Soliel.”

Before the words were out of my mouth I knew I had committed some grievous social faux pas. From the looks on the Duke’s entourage, it was clear I was guilty of some sin so terrible that I would be forever exiled from inclusion in elite society. 

The Duke’s smile wavered a bit, but thankfully he otherwise ignored the unintentional slight. “I insist Evora. This danger goes well beyond Goldfire Glen.”

I felt the prickling of fear on the back of my neck, for I knew in my heart that the Duke spoke truly. Managing to ineloquently construct what was tantamount to an apology and an affirmation, I agreed. Talon merely nodded. Tanner quietly held my hand.

***************

Dinner was exquisite. Much of the nobility of Auros was in attendance at the evening’s celebration. Servants had brought Talon and I finery to wear to dinner. We bathed and met in the great hall for the celebration. 

While Talon chose to ignore the finery and wear his plain brown hooded robe to dinner, I indulged in the trappings of the rich and powerful. Tanner, who had stayed near me the entire time, was given a simple, but elegant silvery silk robe to wear. 

Both Talon and I were seated at the Duke’s table joined by others, including an Arcanist who was introduced as Allustan of Diamond Lake, a small mining community to the north of Auros in the foothills of the mountains that dominate that land. It has been long rumored that Diamond Lake is inhabited by creatures known as Dwarves, though I for one had never seen one. 

Tanner was seated on a small throne at the end of the Duke’s table. He was closely watched by four Justicars. Two more stood at the yawning doorway of the hall. 

The Duke required me to regale the table with stories of our journey and I complied with as little embellishment as I could. Though I did leave a few of the more unsavory and potentially controversial details out, such as Hu Li’s harpy coitus, Hu Li’s outburst with regards to what the fate of the Shuuthian should have been, and, of course, Hu Li’s ill-timed use of the bead of force provided him by Balian. 

I could feel Talon’s eyes watching me as the tale unfolded. I could not determine if his look was one of approval for my discreetness, or condemnation for my lack of forthrightness. He was never an easy one to read. 

“You and your friends have been through a great many trials.” Allustan began, sounding impressed.

“We did what anyone would have done under the circumstances.” I responded blushing. 

“Indeed.” He responded disdainfully, clearly not buying it.

“I have need of heroes such as you to help me investigate something I have been researching. Perhaps you will return to Auros on your way back from Soliel and come see me.” He finished.

I promised to do so immediately and without hesitation. After all, Allustan was an Arcanist and he even seemed, dare I say, normal. If Balian or Helena proved too uncouth for my proclivities, perhaps I could seek apprenticeship with Allustan. At the moment I thought that, and even now as I write this, Balian’s Mark squirmed. No one but me noticed. 

After dinner the Duke moved closer to me and Talon and began speaking in hushed tones. 

“Your actions have caused quite a stir in Soliel.” He began. “The Curia has been in closed session since word arrived of the tragedy at Goldfire Glen. And the Voice and Will has sequestered himself in his meditation room, communing with Canaan since this whole thing began. It is unprecedented.” 

I was deeply troubled by this news. 

“The rumor is that Rappan’Athuk is again active. There is talk that the Regent Malfoy will raise an army to deal with the threat. This does not bode well. And I do not like it.” He added the last in a whisper, almost conspiratorially.

I whipped my head around to stare at him. He met my gaze.

“Do you know why we don’t go into The Wildlands?” He started rhetorically. “We do not go into the Wildlands out of respect for The Green and her followers, Evora. My county is largely agrarian and my constituents are largely superstitious farmers who adhere to the Old Faith of The Green.”

I nodded.

“But there are other political considerations as well. I am no sycophant to the Regent Malfoy. While others clamor to get in his good graces and thereby win favor with his nephew, the boy king, I have a county to run. Unfortunately this approach has lessened my support in the House of Lords, several of whom are in favor of annexing huge portions of The Wildlands; and while it will increase the standing of the county in the House of Lords, I fear the machinations of Malfoy at hand. He would have ultimate control of how that land is divided, and to the most depraved of his flatterers would go the spoils, I’m afraid.”

I had not considered the political ramifications of a settlement of the Wildlands before.

“And I fear that the church is breathing down Malfoy’s neck to invade The Wildlands and take Rappan’Athuk.” He added.

I was surprised to hear the Duke speak in such an unflattering fashion about the Church. Smelling bait, I decided to bite.

“Why do you speak so harshly of the Church to one such as I?” I said. “You know that you are teetering on the edge of blasphemy with this speech.”

“Bah! You, of all people, Evora. Here to lecture me on blasphemy? I know why you ‘left’ Soliel. And please. Your story about Talon being a ‘pious mystic’ is almost laughable. He is nothing other than a servant of the Green. I speak freely in your presence, because I can.”

I nodded, and felt the color drain from my face. This was a brave man, an honorable man, and a man willing to die for his beliefs. Though this conversation filled me with great dread, I knew one thing for certain, Duke Devonhill was a true ally. 

“After the boy king’s parents were slain for their conversion to The Green,” He continued “The Curia hovered around the boy and have yet to leave his side. Malfoy is a harmless puppet. A mouthpiece for the Curia in the guise of a sectarian leader.”

I knew little of the story of Malfoy. Politics was never of an interest to me. I only hoped the Duke assertions were true. 

After dinner there was a short play, filled with song and dance. It was colorful if unremarkable in any other detail.

Tanner slept on a small bed near mine. Both were stuffed with down feathers and while I cannot speak for the boy’s experience, I must say, my bed evoked the most lavish and luxurious sleep I had ever known. Upon awaking I remember feeling the quality of my sleep bordered on the sinful. 

A crowd had gathered outside the Duke’s palace. As Talon, myself and Tanner left with the bodies of Lilian and Shale in tow, they followed us toward the north gate of Auros, waving banners depicting Canaan Crosses and sending up choruses of adulations. 

I was most embarrassed by the whole pomp and circumstance. I was also worried that such public displays of our presence would make it easier for our enemies to track us. 

My fears would prove unwarranted, however, as the week’s journey from Auros to Soliel was quite safe. 

As we came upon the first glimpses of the towers of Soliel, we were greeted with a mob the likes of which I have never seen. For a moment I wondered if the whole of Turgos had made a pilgrimage to Soliel. The mass of humankind went for what appeared to be miles and as Talon walked beside the horse on which myself and the boy rode, the throngs parted to allow us passage. 

Many held out their hands toward us and Tanner obliged their longing with a touch and a blessing. Though songs and shouts of praise rang up for our passing, the gathering was entirely peaceful.

Justicars awaited us at the gates of Soliel. Like Auros, they escorted us to our destination, the Great Fane. The home of the Voice and Will of Canaan on Turgos. 

The crowds overwhelmed the glistening streets of Soliel as they moved in behind us once we reached the steps of the Great Fane. Flanked by two golden armored Justicars at the top of the stairs was the one face I had secretly longed to avoid, but now knew I had no choice but to face, Arch Bishop Tagavarius. 

Talon, Tanner and myself ascended the stairs. Tanner clutched my hand ever so gently and whispered, “Have strength, Evora. He is but a man.” 

“Heretic!” 

The announcement sent a shockwave of silence rippling over the crowd. The harsh, humorless baritone of Tagavarius echoed down the staircase and throughout the marble structures. 

“Your exploits do little to quell the weight of your sins, Evora. You ask much returning here.” 

“I know of my sins.” I said, my eyes to the ground. My supplicant stance was genuine. “Better than anyone, for I have had to live with the bitter fruits of their harvest.” 

I could feel Talon, Tanner and the whole of Soliel looking at me. I looked up to see Tagavarius’s cold glare warm just a bit.

“I return not to do penance, not to acknowledge my transgressions and ask for forgiveness, but to deliver this child, the Exalted One, the one who shall live on as the Voice and Will of Canaan on Turgos. If the Curia believes the confession of a solitary priest ranks higher than the delivery of hope, then I cannot but humble myself before its judgment.”

The Arch Bishop almost blanched at my words. The streets were unbearably silent. Tagavarius strode forward and reached out a hand to Tanner. The boy took it. Tanner smiled up at me and nodded. 

Tagavarius leaned into me and whispered. “Your arrogance shall be your undoing.”

“I have traveled a long way.” I said. “I wish an audience with the Voice and Will.” 

“So I have heard.” He said, still whispering. “I know of it. The Voice and Will has preemptively granted you your request. It seems at the arrival of the news of your coming, and the state of the fallen Champion Lilian Evenshire, he insisted you be allowed an audience.”

I said nothing. Talon stepped up to me. Tagavarius’s eyes narrowed as his lower jaw tightened. The Arch Bishop straightened and addressed the crowd.

“This is a day of celebration!” He announced. “The Exalted One has been safely delivered to Soliel! Canaan be praised! May His Voice and Will on Turgos be granted life everlasting!”

The crowd exploded into applause and cheers. We were led into the hallowed halls of the inner sanctum of the Great Fane. Tagavarius said nothing else. Tanner kept looking at me as we entered the massive, vaulted chamber. 

It was lit by a solitary beam of light in its center. It was constructed entirely out of white marble. Grand archways circled the sunken inner chamber. Benches lined the outer circle. A soft chorus of invisible monks rained down unceasingly from unseen corners of the grand chapel. 

I was awed and humbled by the sheer simplistic beauty of the whole setting. 

Lilian and Shale’s bodies were taken from us by white robed priests. Talon, Tanner and I stood in the glow of the light and the soft pillow of the music for some time. 

Then there was a pulse in the light. It dimmed just enough for us to make out an elderly, bent figure, clutching a golden staff in one of his wrinkled hands. His head was adorned with an enormous miter and he was draped in a golden robe. 

I fell to my knees before him. Talon rolled his eyes and leaned up against the wall under an archway. 

Tanner leapt to his feet and ran toward the figure, embracing him as a boy would a father.

“Please, Evora.” I heard his kind, but tired voice say. “Stand up and come closer.” 

I obeyed. 

“Sit down next to me.” He said. I only then noticed he had been sitting on a marble bench. I immediately joined him. 

“I understand you request an intercession from Canaan with regards to the soul of Lilian Evenshire.” 

“Yes, Your Holiness.” I said. The staggering reality of what I came for suddenly rushed over me. I felt the fool asking for something so unbelievably profound. The Voice and Will must have felt my turmoil and doubt, for he reached a hand out to me and took mine in his. His flesh felt as fragile as parchment.

“Have faith, Evora.” He said. “You are no heretic. The Curia and I have always had disagreements, and shall for as long as Canaan’s Church thrives. Your fate and your guilt are but one more in a long line of… debates.” 

I felt weak. My heart leapt for such joy that I nearly fainted. The Voice and Will was on my side. It was more than I could have ever dreamed. 

“But that is trivial. Banal political conflict and nothing more.” He continued. “I need to ask you why you feel Lilian must be returned?” 

“I believe her role in the coming conflict is far from over, most Exalted One.” I said. “She is needed here. Her death came far before her time.” 

“As it does to many.” He answered, smiling sadly at me. “Farmer Jed and his family.” 

It did not surprise me that one so enlightened as the Voice and Will would have known of the fate of a simple family so many miles away. 

“And the innocents of Goldfire Glen.” He continued. “Beware such hubris, Evora. Lilian’s life was no more precious than any of those.” 

I sat silent. Tanner tugged at my leg. He smiled up at me and I remembered the vision that I awoke to just days prior and the words the angelic voice emitted from the vassal of Tanner. 

“I believe,” I finally said, “that it is by Canaan’s Will that she be returned. Nothing more and nothing less.” 

“Then, my child,” His Holiness said with a smile. “Let Canaan’s Will be done.”

He grabbed hold of his staff and pulled himself to his feet. Tanner moved over to me. The Voice and Will turned to us both, and gave a cursory glance to Talon. 

“Rest.” He said. “For you are weary. I shall return to you shortly.”

With labored steps, he left the chamber. I sat back down on the bench and closed my eyes. I drank in the sounds of the chanting monks and allowed myself to relax into a tranquil meditation. 

Several minutes later, I was gently drawn from my meditations by Tanner, touching my arm. I opened my eyes to see his face smiling at me. 

Talon was still leaning against an archway. 

Somewhere beyond my sight a door opened and closed. I heard footsteps. 

Into the light of the chamber I saw the Voice and Will of Canaan reentering. He leaned heavily upon his staff. Tanner rushed to his side to assist him. 

A second figure stepped into view behind them. My breath stopped. Tears fell freely from my disbelieving eyes. 

By the side of the Exalted Boy and the Voice and Will of Canaan was, glory be, Lilian, alive! Her golden tresses draped around her shoulders. She stepped toward me. 

Talon stood upright, his mouth agape in disbelief. I stood and ran to her. She held up a hand to stay my path. 

She was dressed in a long silver robe. Her deep blue eyes stared into me. They held a deep and unrelenting sadness that unnerved me. Then, as if she finally recognized me, her hand dropped to her side and she smiled. 

“Evora.” She said, her voice as strong and sure as ever. “By the grace of Canaan, I have returned.”


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## Shieldhaven (May 12, 2006)

Yay, you're back!  Looks like I have a lot of fanboi praise to rewrite. 

Haven


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (May 12, 2006)

Canaan said:
			
		

> “Evora.” She said, her voice as strong and sure as ever. “By the grace of Canaan, I have returned.”




And even more importantly, this storyhour has returned!! Good to  have you back!


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## Canaan (May 13, 2006)

Thanks Biscuit and Haven!  It was a little touch and go there for a while.  I had only rough drafts of my posts saved on my computer, because D'nemy and I are writing this together and editing in a very free form style.  So I had very few of the final posts saved (I remedied that now).  By following the suggestions posted by some Enworlders, I was able to recover everything from the Cache.

Thanks for your continued interest in this story hour!  It's nice to be missed!  Here is the next installment in the lives of our heroes!  You may have questions after this post.  They will be answered in the next post, which is a flashback/interlude.


***************

*Chapter 17: Gabriel's Return*

	After many minutes of joyous laughter, embraces, and thanks to Almighty Canaan, Lilian and I finally calmed ourselves enough to have as lucid a conversation as we could, given the circumstances.

	“What do you remember?” I finally came around to asking her.

	Her fair face twisted upwards, her eyes looked to the ceiling. She shook her head.

	“Nothing at all.” She said, a mixture of worry and befuddlement. “I remember us stumbling into that room. I could see next to nothing beyond the door Gabriel was carrying. I felt something slice into my back, cold as death, and then nothing else. I awoke to chanting, and he…” She pointed to the Voice and Will of Canaan. “was smiling down at me. He told me I had died and by Canaan’s Will, been brought back. They fitted me with this robe and lead me to you.” 

	Talon had joined us in our reunion but said very little past “It is good to see you again, old friend.” At last he spoke.

	“It was a blackguard that felled you.” He told her. “A sorceress and a dark faean priest were his only allies. In spite of our greater numbers we barely survived the battle. Shale and Aesendal also perished.”

	Lilian staggered, and almost fainted at the news. I caught her by the shoulder and held her up. She gently pushed me off her, then straightened, looking at Talon, fear floating over her emerald eyes. 

	“What of Gabriel?” She said, very anxious. “Is he with you? 

	Talon and I looked to each other. I was trying to formulate an appropriately delicate response. 

	“Tell me!” Lilian insisted.

	“He stayed behind.” Talon finally, emotionlessly said. 

	“We tried to stop him, but he would not listen.” I added.

	“Tell me everything!” She said. “What happened to my brother?” 

	Before we could answer, the Voice and Will of Canaan tapped the floor with his staff. The sound reverberated through the hall. 

	We all turned to him. 

	“Perhaps,” He said in his soft whisper. “you should ask him yourself.” 

	I heard that obfuscated door open and close again, and a moment later, a white robed figure was lead into the chamber flanked by two equally robed nuns. The face of the figure was covered by a cowl. He was clutching a Canaan Cross in his right hand. The two nuns backed away and left the chamber. The figure grabbed hold of the cowl and slowly drew it back.

	We all gasped when the face was revealed. 

	It was Gabriel. 

	Lilian ran up to him. 

	“I do not understand.” She said, stopping short of embracing him. “They told me you went back to fight the Black Guard.”

	“They were right.” He said. 

	“Then you defeated him?” She asked, though the timbre of her voice betrayed her realization of the answer.

	“No.” He said plainly. “I was slain.”

	“Great Canaan!” I breathed. “What miracles we have witnessed this day!” 

	“His body was found by the nuns in the chapel not an hour before you arrived here.” The Voice and Will told us. “A celestial voice summoned them to the chamber and told them that this one had been chosen by Canaan to return to us, but there was a price to be paid.” 

	“What happened?” Lilian asked. 

	“Talon and Evora were right.” Gabriel began. “They tried to warn me, but I would not listen. I confronted the Black Guard consumed with anger and a thirst for vengeance. The evil knight proved too much of a match for me, and every set back in the melee only fueled my rage to the point where all I could see, all I could feel, all I experienced was raw, unhinged anger. In that state of total wrath and fury, I was felled by his blade.” 

	There was a long silence. Guilt flashed over Lilian’s face. 

	“When you died, where did you go?” I asked, knowing full well the answer. 

	Gabriel did not look at me when he told us. His grip on his Canaan Cross tightened. 

	“I did not reach Canaan’s Heaven.” He said almost inaudibly. Lilian reached out and took his hand. “I have been given a second chance to redeem my soul.” 

	“Glory be to Canaan!” I said. “Your family is doubly blessed!” 

	“From this day forward,” Gabriel told us, “I shall live my life as a Priest of Canaan. I shall endeavor to quench the fires of my rage and pursue a life of peace and penitence.” 

	Lilian broke down into a torrent of tears. Her usually strong demeanor completely evaporated and she fell into her brothers arms. 

	“Blessed be Canaan!” She said between fits of sobs. 

	“Yes, my sister.” Gabriel said, soothingly. “Yes.” 

	Talon, who had remained silent up to now, finally spoke. 

	“It is good that we are all reunited.” He began. “But Shale, who we brought with us, is still dead. What of him?”

	I turned to the Voice and Will. 

	“We brought a disciple of the Green with us.” I told him. “Is it possible, Your Holiness, that Canaan’s Grace may be bestowed upon him as well?”

	“I know of Shale’s nature.” He answered me. “And I know of his Master, Baern. It will not be by Canaan that Shale will be returned, but by the power and will of the Green.”  Then after a short pause, “And Canaan approves.” 

“I know where to find Shale’s Master.” Said Talon. “I can lead us there.” 

	“We should go soon.” Said Lilian. “Shale is a good friend and if it be The Green’s will, I would have him back with us.” 

	“I agree.” I said. “But there is something I must do first. And I must do it alone.”

	Before any of them could protest, I turned back to the Voice and Will. Tanner had taken his hand. 

	“Thank you.” I said to him, swallowing my growing emotion. “You have been most merciful, most kind, most loving. I cannot put into words how grateful we all are for what you have done.”

	“Evora Faro.” The Voice and Will said, his voice tinged with sadness. “It is not I who has done these things. I am but a vassal for Canaan’s Will, and it is I who should be thanking you.” 

	He looked at Tanner.

	“Your selflessness and sacrifice has ensured another generation will be blessed with the path to salvation and eternal life. I take my leave of you now and offer you this as my parting words. Do not let your fear or your thirst for knowledge and power delude you. The world is changing and each of you has been chosen to play a great role in ensuring that the change is for the better. May Canaan be with you.”

	With that, he and Tanner stepped into the pillar of light in the center of the chamber. Something shimmered up the outer edge of the column and the two were gone. 

*******************************

	I left the others at the Great Fane and made my way over to the Curia, to meet with Tagavarius and plead my case. 

	Gabriel wished to sequester himself in the libraries of Soliel. He did not say what he was looking for, but would only say he was curious about something called a Harmonic Concordance. 

	Lilian remained in the Great Fane to pray and meditate on all that had happened. Talon wished to leave the confines of the city for a time and meditate in a surrounding more becoming to his faith. 

	By the hospitality of the Voice and Will of Canaan, Shale’s body was to remain under the care of the temple’s nuns until such time that we left.

	As I climbed the stairs of the Curia, I was greeted by six Justicars, who fell into position on either side of me. Thus flanked, I was presented to a great assemblage of Arch Bishops and Cardinals of Canaanism. The intellectual and political supreme among the ranks of Canaan’s priests. At their center stood Tagavarius who welcomed my entry with a deep, creased scowl.

	“The heretic has arrived for trial.” He said.

	I remained encircled by the Justicars. The proceedings remained eerily quiet. 

	“Evora Faro, you have been accused of heresy.”  Tagavarius said with great aplomb. I could not help noticing he was staring just above my eyes. “Your punishment was exile, and yet you return. You brought with you the Exalted Child, and the Curia understands the sacrifices you made to save him. That act alone may have granted you full clemency if it weren’t for the fact that new charges have been brought against you. You have been accused of pursuing the arcane arts without taking the required sacraments and teachings by a sanctioned Urgic practitioner, a crime punishable by the annulment of your ordination. What say you to these charges?” 

	I did not allow a moment’s pause before I answered. 

	“I plead guilty.” I said plainly enough. I saw a look of complete surprise melt over Tagavarius’s face. The rest of the gathering continued their stoic stares. Tagavarius looked back at them, as if to seek support, then turned back toward me.

	“You understand that in so doing,” Tagavarius said. “That you consent to the lawful and just sentence of your crime.”

	“I do.” I said. “If the Curia agrees that such a sentence should be carried out, then I have no choice but to consent. I do this in order to protect that one commodity that is most precious to us mortals. Time. We have little to spare these days and a lengthy trial would only compound a growing threat. I believe that the attempt on Tanner’s life was no isolated incident. It is but the first of many horrors to come and I believe that Canaan has a plan for me, and an annulment would do nothing but deny Canaan’s Will.”

	The silence was finally shattered. The room erupted into calls of blasphemy and my immediate annulment. Others, agreeing with me, called for my immediate acquittal and release. 

	Tagavarius held up a hand. The room fell silent. 

	“You are an arrogant, obstinate, wretch, Evora. Drowning in his own pride and delusions of greatness.” He hissed.

	“He saved the Exalted Child!” One of the Arch Bishops bellowed. “He is amongst the Chosen of Canaan! Annulling his vows would be a sin against His Almighty!” 

	“Silence!” Tagavarius bellowed in reply. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits as they carved into me. “I see through your treachery, Evora. You seek to tear the Curia apart.”

	With that I laid down prostrate before them all. 

	“You are right, Tagavarius!” I hollered, through my falling tears. “I am arrogant! I am obstinate! I am a wretch! But I have seen the error of my ways and I come before you humbled and seeking atonement! If it be Canaan’s Will that I be de-frocked for my sins, then there is nothing either myself, the Curia or even the Voice and Will himself can do to stop it! I have learned that I have not the moral, ethical or spiritual fortitude to stay true to the teachings of Canaan while recklessly attempting to be a peripatetic of the Arcane Path. I sought only power and that search corrupted me! I renounce my unchecked thirst for knowledge! Have mercy on me, a pitiful sinner! I do not wish to tear the great Curia asunder! I speak from my heart, flawed and inadequate as it may be!”

	There was complete silence. It was broken by a soft footfall. I looked up to see Tagavarius staring down at me. His usual stony face mitigated but a breath. 

	“I am surprised at you, Evora.” He said, his voice echoing within the cavernous silence. “I did not expect this from you. I am beginning to believe that there may yet be hope for you, but how I judge you matters little. It is not by my hand that justice shall be dispensed. It is the summation of the whole of the Curia. Justicars!” 

	He waved his hand at the men who surrounded me. They lifted me to my feet. 

	“Take the accused to a holding cell.” Tagavarius continued. “There he shall wait while the Curia deliberates his fate.” 

	I sat alone in my cell for many hours. The others, Lilian, Talon and Gabriel did not know where I went. I chose not to tell them. I did not want them to worry, and if I was to be bereft of my vows and the grace of Canaan, then I wished to do it alone. Selfish, perhaps, but easier in the end. 

Despite my actions in saving Tanner, a great seed of doubt had sprouted its thorny weeds within me. The dream I had just a few nights ago still haunted me. To see my Lord’s face crumble, and knowing, somehow, His destruction was due to some action or misdeed which I have either already, or someday shall, wittingly, or unwittingly, execute was almost more than I could bear. 

I tried to meditate and clear my head, but the images of my dream persisted and I achieved no solace. 

At last Tagavarius appeared before my cell. He was flanked by two Justicars. They parted to give the jailor ample room to open the cell door. 

“The Curia has reached a verdict, Evora.” Tagavarius said, with a tinge of disappointment.

The jailor slid the key into the lock and turned it. The cell door slowly swung open. 

“You have been acquitted.” 

Joy leapt from the bottoms of my feet clear up through my head.

“On the condition…” Tagavarius continued, obviously sensing my happiness. “That you and your companions leave immediately. Take the body of the druid with you.  Uncover the Adversarial plot against Canaan.   May Canaan have mercy on your souls.”

And thus, I was released. I rendezvoused with Lilian, Talon and Gabriel and having secured Shale’s body to a horse and given the corpse a gentle repose, we left Soliel much as we came, to deafening cheers and joyous praise from an unquantifiable crowd.

We were off to the Northeast, toward a place called Wiltangle Forest. It was there, in the midst of its twisting, dense trees that we would find Baern, Shale’s Master. Talon assured us he could lead us to him. Only Baern had the power to return the fallen druid to us. 

As we rode on, mostly in earnest silence, I could not help but ponder the possibility that the Voice and Will chose to intercede on my behalf in the Curia’s deliberations. It mattered little, but the thought of it gave me great comfort.

I realized in that moment the true value of friendship. I clutched my holy symbol. It was still warm. I had not noticed it until then, but as I looked down I saw that it was faintly glowing. 

What is this boon Tanner had bequeathed to me? Was I deserving of such a gift? I could do no better than to try to prove my worth and find, once again, that I have a friend in Canaan. That He had not abandoned me and that I was, arrogant, obstinate and wretched as I may be, still worthy of His love.


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## D'nemy (May 15, 2006)

Thanks for the support, HOHB and Shieldhaven! Expect more posts this week. Things start to take some dramatic, unexpected turns... be ready.


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## Canaan (May 16, 2006)

*Interlude: Gabriel's Fall*

Rage.  Vengeance.  These were all he felt at that moment, when he stormed back into the keep’s dungeon and through the corridor that lead to the altar room.  There stood the Black Knight, still encased in Hu Li’s energy sphere.  Though Gabriel couldn’t see it through the black visor, the Knight smiled.  _The fool_, he thought, seeing that Gabriel was alone.  

Gabriel strode purposefully up to the energy sphere, his body twitching with rage.  He punched the sphere and was repulsed by Hu Li’s magic.  

He screamed out in frustration.  He would have to wait to get his vengeance.

Gabriel paced in front of the energy sphere holding the Blackguard.  He stared fiercely at the dark knight, never letting his eyes stray from that visored face.  The Blackguard casually stared back with practiced patience.  He sensed the rage and hatred in Gabriel and again smiled.  _I will have his life and my master will have his soul_.

After what seemed like an eternity to Gabriel, the sphere dissipated.  

Gabriel leapt to attack, hoping to grapple the Blackguard and break its vile neck.  Had Gabriel not been paralyzed by the Sorceress’s magic during the first battle and seen the ineffectiveness of Talon’s attempt at the same thing, perhaps he would have tried a different tactic.  

The Blackguard met Gabriel’s attack and pushed him back with a powerful swing of his arm.  But Gabriel would not give up easily.  Pure rage fueled him and he would not be denied his vengeance.  Gabriel fiercely attacked the Blackguard, landing blow after blow that barely dented his armor.  And between Gabriel’s powerful blows, the Blackguard made his own devastating attacks.  Not before long Gabriel had a dozen bleeding cuts.  He was becoming winded.  And the Blackguard seemed largely unhurt.

Gabriel was furious.  This Blackguard killed his sister, the only person in his life that never judged him.  For that the Blackguard would die at his hand.  With an anguished scream, Gabriel attacked with renewed vigor, powered by his hatred and rage.

It was at that moment that Canaan left him.

Gabriel had turned his back on Canaan, on Love, Mercy and Justice.  He had instead sought refuge in the vices of The Adversary; Hatred, Rage and Vengeance.  A shadow descended on Gabriel’s soul.

The Blackguard invoked _Murder_ and cleaved through the flesh of Gabriel’s left arm to the bone.  Blood was everywhere.  But Gabriel barely felt it through his rage.  He assaulted the Black Knight with all of his might, landing a punch across his visor with his good arm and a kick to the abdomen.  The Blackguard merely flinched.

But the kick was enough to throw the knight off balance, causing the Blackguard to miss with his next swing of _Murder_.

Gabriel again attacked the Blackguard with his own hands, but at the last moment the Blackguard sidestepped his lunges, causing Gabriel to overcompensate, leaving him open for a killing blow.

The Blackguard saw the opportunity and took it.  Raising _Murder_ across his left side to bring it down in an arcing motion across Gabriel’s back, the knight spoke for the first time, “It is time to meet your new master.”  The blade swung down and buried itself deep in Gabriel’s back severing his spine.  He fell to the floor, eyes staring blankly.

The Blackguard kicked Gabriel’s corpse for good measure and harrumphed.  He said a prayer to his dark lord, took one last look around the room and departed.

****

Canaan’s Heaven is beatific and serene; it is a place of peace and harmony.  The light of Canaan shines on those righteous souls that find themselves there and they are warmed by it.

Hell, the Adversary’s domain, is harsh and inhospitable.  It can be cold as the deepest ocean or hot as the sun depending on what layer you found yourself and the nature of the sin that landed you there.  It is a place of eternal suffering and torment.

There is a third place, however, for the souls of the recently departed; it is The Fugue Plane, a cosmic waiting room.  A place where the souls go of those whose fate has yet to be determined.  It is an antiseptic place, dark and cold.

It is in this third place that Gabriel found himself.  He had fallen, and his soul should have gone to Hell.  And but for the intercession of his sister and their guardian Angel, Cilestrial, it would have.

Cilestrial had never stopped watching over the twins as they grew; unseen and unheard, she was a celestial presence that gently guided them to do the right thing.  By Divine Law, she could involve herself in only the smallest of ways and never directly.  Nevertheless, it was she who arranged the series of events that led to their service in Goldfire Glen with the humble and kind-hearted Father Nimitz, after their years of training in Soliel under the harsh judgmental eyes of the priests there.

And it was she who issued the warning to Evora outside Harpy Ruins that all was not as it would seem.  And it was she who used Evora and Talon, at the end, to speak truth to Gabriel and turn him from his path of destruction.

But her will was not stronger than Canaan’s and Canaan had chosen a test for Gabriel.  The twins were indeed favored of Canaan.  But something larger was happening and Canaan chose this moment to test his favored.  

It was not Cilestrial’s province or inclination to ask why.  Her duty was to carry out Canaan’s wishes.  That was all.  Canaan tested Gabriel’s faith, tested his love, tested his soul.  But all were found lacking.

And so it was with great sadness that Cilestrial watched the young brawler fall.  But she would not be content to watch The Adversary annihilate his soul.  She interceded on his behalf.  And that is no small thing.

Gabriel had fallen.  His soul would go to Hell to be judged by The Adversary.  Moloch would carry out the Adversary’s wishes and resign Gabriel’s soul to a place in Hell fitting to his sins.  

By Divine Law, because it was Gabriel’s exercise of Free Will that consigned his soul to Hell, Canaan could not claim Gabriel’s soul without creating a Soul Debt.  Under the rules of the Soul Debt, the only way Gabriel could be saved from his Fate is for someone else to take his place.  

Cilestrial however, being a significantly high-ranked Angel in Canaan’s Celestial Host, knew of a loophole in the Divine Law of the Soul Debt.  If a petition were made for Gabriel to be given a chance to redeem himself, the person taking his place would be consigned to Hell only if Gabriel had failed to redeem himself.  Meanwhile, Gabriel’s proxy would exist in The Fugue Plane, unable to leave and unable to sense anything through that place’s haze.  Cilestrial also knew that Canaan was usually loathe to exercise this loophole because Divine Law required that the Adversary also have the opportunity to choose a soul to return to Turgos for the chance to Fall. 

Cilestrial decided to take that chance.  She petitioned Canaan for a temporary reprieve, bartering for another chance for Gabriel.  Though Lilian will later have no memory of it, Cilestrial explained Divine Law to Lilian and all of the repercussions of the Soul Debt.  Her love for her brother compelled Lilian to stand by her side and plead with Canaan that Gabriel may yet be granted a chance to come back into Canaan’s grace.

Canaan granted that request.  The Soul Debt would be paid.  Gabriel would be granted another chance.  Cilestrial would go to Gabriel and explain his misdeeds to him, freeing him from The Fugue Plane and taking his place there.  He would be returned to Turgos, with all of the knowledge of the place he had been and the deeds that brought him there.  Once on Turgos, he would have the opportunity to cleanse his soul and achieve a state of Grace.  

But as required by Divine Law, Canaan decreed further.  While Cilestrial paid the Soul Debt required by Divine Law, Lilian, for her part, would be returned to Turgos.  Though she had earned a place in Canaan’s Heaven, she would have to give it up to save the soul of her brother, the soul for whom she and Cilestrial interceded.  She would have to earn her place in Heaven again.  And she would be tested.  Indeed, a pure soul returned to Turgos to pay a Soul Debt is too enticing a challenge for The Adversary to ignore.  She would be tempted.  And she could Fall.  But for Lilian, no price was too great to pay for her brother.  And so she readily accepted her Fate.

To spare her the anguish and grief, Canaan decreed that Lilian would have no memory of Canaan’s Heaven or of her time there, for that would have been cruel.

****

The angel Cilestrial went to Gabriel and explained to Gabriel his Fall.  Gabriel wept.  

“How could seeking to destroy an evil soul lead to damnation?”  He asked Cilestrial, angry and confused.

“Gabriel.  It is not seeking to destroy an evil soul that lead to your damnation.  It is what was in your heart that did it.  You sought to destroy the Dark Knight, not out of Justice or Love, but out of Hatred, Rage and Vengeance.”  Cilestrial explained sympathetically.

“I don’t understand.” Gabriel cried.

Cilestrial looked at Gabriel sadly, “It is not for you to judge and mete out punishment.  Even the inquisitors and justicars seek divine aid before doing so.  Your role is to enact Justice and exhibit Mercy.”

“I don’t think I know the difference.” Gabriel wept.

“You must learn the difference then, Gabriel.  Your soul depends on it.”  She added.  “And so does mine,” she added in a whisper looking away.  

Gabriel snapped to attention.  “What do you mean, ‘so does mine’?” He asked quickly.

“The Soul Debt must be paid.  I interceded on your behalf.  I will remain here while you earn a place in Canaan’s Heaven.  If you fail, you will be consigned to Hell.  And so will I.”

“No!  I will not permit you to do this!”  Gabriel yelled.

“It is not your right to allow or disallow this, Gabriel.  It was my choice.  And it is done.  It cannot be undone.”  Cilestrial responded sympathetically.

“I am not worthy of this sacrifice.  And I do not know if I can fare any better given a second chance.  I am confused.  I do not trust my ability to understand and process the subtleties of Divine Law.  I implore you to let me be.”  Gabriel pleaded with her.

“What is done is done.”  Cilestrial calmly responded.

Gabriel wept.  A short time later, he asked after his sister.  “Did you see Lilian in Canaan’s Heaven?”

“Yes.” She flatly intoned.

“Thank Canaan.” Gabriel breathed

“And our parents?” He asked.

“I am not permitted to speak of there Fates.”  Cilestrial responded.

“What do you mean?  It is a simple question.  Either they are in Heaven or they are not.”  Gabriel was angry.

“It is actually much more complicated than that.” 

Gabriel scowled.

“If I were permitted to tell you more, I would, Gabriel.  Your parents…. Their Fates are tied to a Harmonic Concordance.”

“What do you mean?”

“A Harmonic Concordance is an event, Gabriel.  It happens that very rarely the Three Faiths do battle to determine the course of history.  The Adversary and Canaan have always opposed each other in these battles.  But The Green is unpredictable and can often decide the winner.  All Three Faiths must come together and decide the course of history.”  

Gabriel was speechless.

“It is time for you to go.  You will be joined by your sister.  She will have no memory of Canaan’s Heaven.  It is for the best.  Like me, she interceded on your behalf.  She will return to Turgos.”

Gabriel nodded.  

Cilestrial never told him the full implication of Lilian’s return.

A bright light appeared near Gabriel.

“Walk into the light, Gabriel.  Goodbye.”

Gabriel walked into the light and turned to Cilestrial, “I will do as is required of me.  I will endeavor to follow Canaan’s dictates and divine guidance.  But it will take me a long time to unlearn my habits.  Though I often lack it, I pray that Canaan is patient with me.  I will be his devoted servant.  Thank you.”

Gabriel disappeared into the light.


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## Shieldhaven (May 16, 2006)

That sounds like it was a really cool scene.  =)  Since something similar happened to a character of mine in a LARP just this past weekend, I'm eager to see how this turns out!

Haven


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (May 16, 2006)

Good stuff, Canaan. And a very nice way to put some flavour into raising the characters. Let's hope they live up to their responsibilities.


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## iStrider (May 16, 2006)

Yay!  I am glad you were able to recover all the story hour posts.  I eagerly await the next installment.


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## Canaan (May 19, 2006)

Shieldhaven said:
			
		

> That sounds like it was a really cool scene.  =)  Since something similar happened to a character of mine in a LARP just this past weekend, I'm eager to see how this turns out!




It was a lot of fun to play.  Gabriel's player and I roleplayed it out in Lilian's player's car one night.  lol!  

Things got really interesting in the game after these deaths, because resurrection is something very special in the game.  So it clued the PCs into some larger things that were afoot.  And Gabriel started obsessing about his parents' fate.  

Meanwhile, Liilan was blissfully ignorant and oblivious.  

But as Biscuit said, it was a great way to advance the plot and add flavor to resurrections.


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## catsclaw227 (May 19, 2006)

Awesome guys! I was hoping that you would be able to recover the posts after the crash.


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## iStrider (May 25, 2006)

So when is the next post?  I am going into withdrawal!


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## Canaan (May 29, 2006)

*Chapter 18:  Into the Wiltangle Forest*

Sorry this one took so long!

* * * * 

	The chants and praise of the people of Soliel far behind us, Lilian, Gabriel, Talon and me settled into our horseback gait for the Wiltangle Forest. I only knew the place by name. Reputation, rumors, even bardic tales of the woodland were completely unknown to me. Talon said next to nothing about it, other than it was home for Shale’s master, a powerful Druid named Baern.  

	The Voice and Will of Canaan had told me it would be by the authority of the Green that Shale be returned, and that Baern had the knowledge and power to enact such a miracle. 

	Talon and I had brought the horrid face-stealing dagger of the Dark Faean to the Great Fane, where it was then secured in one of its vaults. In exchange, Gabriel was granted a suit of armor. The Voice and Will exclaimed it to be Cilestrial’s Armor, exclaiming it was part of the Evenshire Estate that had been gifted to the church on passing of Lilian and Gabriel’s parents.  Its construction was such that it was as light as cloth, but as strong as steel.  And it bore angelic symbols evidencing that it was divinely enchanted.

	Shale’s body remained tied to a horse’s saddle, wrapped in linens that had been soaked in herbs and perfumes. I bestowed a _gentle repose_ on the corpse to keep it from festering any further. 

	We traveled for two days, heading west along a well traveled dirt road. We passed other travelers along the way, each of us, in turn, paying little notice of the other. It was not uncommon for family and friends to travel with the remains of a loved one for many miles to bury them in some sentimental or preordained locality. 

	“The roads are quiet.” Talon said as we made camp on the side of the road at the end of the second day of travel. “I have yet to determine if that is a good omen or a bad one.”

	We enjoyed a humble meal of roots and boar meat while warming ourselves around a crackling fire. At last Lilian spoke. 

	“I remember nothing.” She said distantly. “I have been trying to recall any of my experiences while I was… away, but I cannot recall anything. ‘Twas like a dreamless sleep.”

	“Some would believe that to be ideal.” Talon responded.

	“It is purgatory.” I responded. “Eternal sleep is not rest. It is a cold, lightless, lonely prison, one from which you can enjoy no hope of parole.”  

	“You are wrong, Evora.” Answered Gabriel. We all turned to him, jolted by his sudden bluntness. His tone and demeanor were reminiscent of the old, hostile brawler. 

	“Purgatory is nothing like that.” He said, his voice trembling. 

	“You were there?” I asked. Gabriel answered me with such a look of horror and loathing that I allowed his silence to provide me with all the answer I required. Lilian looked to me as if for support, but it was clear that she, too, did not dare to press the issue. 

	“Lilian does not remember where she was because…” Gabriel faltered, his voice trembled all the more. “Because it is Canaan’s Will.” He leaned toward Lilian, a staunch urgency filling him. “Sister, do not try to remember. Let it go. You have been brought back. I have been brought back. That is all we need to know.”

	Lilian nodded, acknowledging her brother’s warning. I looked back to Gabriel. He had closed his eyes and began to quietly pray. 

	“It leads one to believe that Canaan wishes to hide something.” Said Talon, flatly enough, but his timbre held a tinge of obstinacy the likes of which I had never heard from the usually balanced ascetic. Though I could see an ember of anger bleeding into Gabriel’s face, he said nothing in response, and continued his prayers. 

	I thought it prudent to ignore Talon’s attempt to rile us as well. Let him have the last word in the name of the Green. It mattered little to me. I was too tired from traveling to engage in a lengthy debate. 

Early the following morning, we came across a traveler who recognized us. He was a grizzled, old, but friendly enough farmer en route to Soliel from Auros. He was driving a cart pulled by a pair of tired looking donkeys. The cart was filled with barrels and opened crates, all bursting with succulent fruits and greens. 

“By all that’s holy!” He shouted upon seeing us. “The Heroes of Goldfire Glen! And me wife refused to travel with me. Oh, won’t she be sorry when she hears of this!” 

“What news from Auros?” Lilian inquired of the man. 

His eyes lingered on her for a moment. His jaw suddenly dropped agape and he fell to his knees before her.

“In all my days!” He cried, his face in the dirt. “Would I die before witnessing such a time as this! Canaan’s Champion risen from the dead?”

“Calm yourself, good farmer.” Talon quietly intoned, placing a hand on the man’s back. 

“I was there! I was there in Auros when you came! I saw the corpses, wrapped and bound to your horses!” He continued, not hearing or not heeding Talon’s attempts to calm him. “I was told what had befallen you, dear Lady, Blessed of Canaan. And I laughed when I was told what your companions were attempting to do. Oh, forgive an old, stupid man!”

The man writhed on the ground, his tears wetting the dirt. Gabriel knelt down beside him and began speaking softly, praying to Canaan while waving his hands above the man’s head. I recognized the prayer to _calm emotions_ immediately. 

It worked. The man relaxed with a sigh and allowed Talon and Gabriel to pull him to his feet and lead him back over to his cart. Gabriel used his robe to wipe the dirt from the man’s lips and cheeks. 

The tenderness Gabriel showed to the man evidenced his new resolve to let go of his anger and embrace a path toward inner peace. 

Lilian and I approached the man after he had taken a sip of water from a skin that hung on the edge of his cart. 

“I ask again.” Lilian said. “Any news from Auros or Goldfire Glen?”

“Goldfire Glen I know little of.” The farmer said. “And Auros is still there, walls and all, but there are whispers of troubles brewing.”

“What sort of troubles?” I asked. 

“Brightstone Keep, a long abandoned outpost of Auros, rumor has it, is overrun with goblinoids. It resides too close to the gates of Auros to let such pests stay unchecked, I say. Before you know it, their numbers will pour out of the keep and overrun the countryside. And that’s where I call hearth, home, and livelihood, don’t you know!”

 We all looked to each other. This must be the work of Veshra, I thought. Her machinations have already begun to spread beyond the confines of the Wildlands. This was dire news indeed. 

The farmer, who called himself Tolstyn, if memory serves, supplied us with a sampling of his delicious goods and was soon off. 

The following day, we came upon the distant wall of trees that heralded the border of Wiltangle Forest. 

	I immediately saw a change in Talon’s usual stoic carapace. As we rode forward, I began to understand what troubled the ascetic. My first thought was that the forest’s name was truly earned, for the trunks were squat and heavy with thick, intertwining branches that barred easy passage. Leaves, dried and lifeless hung on desiccated limbs. The usual flurry of bird songs, squirrel chatters and the rustling of branches produced when skittish animals scurry for safety, was unnervingly absent. 

	Talon stopped his steed and took in the gloomy sight. 

	“Something is terribly wrong.” He finally said. “When last I entered Wiltangle with my Master, it was flourishing, beautiful and overflowing with life.” 

	“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lilian asked. 

	Talon responded with a nod that betrayed confusion, as if he was seriously considering the merits of Lilian’s question.

	“How do we enter this forest with our horses?” Asked Gabriel. “There seems to be no break in the overgrowth.” 

	“There is a trail that dissects the wood.” Talon answered, absently, looking as if he was still trying to accept the extent of the forest’s metamorphosis. “Follow me.” He said after a few moments of weighty silence. He tore his gaze away from the decaying flora and led us around the edge of the wood until it turned northward. 

	After a few paces, Talon stopped his horse and dismounted. 

	“It is here.” He said, though I could spot no fluctuation in the tree’s growth. “Or, at least, it was before.”

	“Are you sure, Talon?” Lilian asked again. “How long has it been since you were last here?”

	“Help me find the path.” Talon answered, calmly but firmly ignoring Lilian’s inquiry. 

	Gabriel was the first off his horse. Though now a priest of Canaan, it was clear he had retained, from the show of grace by which he leapt from the saddle and joined Talon in the search, some of his old martial talents. 

	I followed the two into the tangles, but was lost as to where to begin a search for a path that had been overgrown. Though my family was devotees of the Green, none of us dedicated much time to forestry. 

	Mercifully, the search was short. 

	“Over here!” I heard Gabriel call. 

	Talon and I followed the sound of his voice to find him perched over a clump of tangled, low hanging branches. He had pushed them aside with his leg and held them back, revealing a narrow, but suitable path for horse travel. 

	“Is this it?” He asked Talon, straining from the weight of the branches.

	Talon nodded. 

	“We’ll need a sword.” I said. 

	Talon shot me a look. 

	“To cut through that.” I added. “Unless you have other means of circumventing the growth. Our mounts won’t make it past.”

	Talon seemed to consider my argument for a moment. Gabriel let go of the branches letting them fall back over the path, completely obscuring it. 

	“Very well.” He said at last, a touch of sadness in his voice. “If we must. I see we have no choice.”

	Moments later Lilian had rejoined us and began the arduous task of hacking through the branches with her blade until enough of them had fallen away to give us room to ride past. 

	Her brow beaded with effort, she sheathed her blade and climbed back into her saddle. 

	“Lead the way, Talon.” She flatly commanded. 

	The forest was drearily silent. Not a rustle or a caw could be heard from any of the shadowed recesses and leafy alcoves that walled us on either side of our path. Most of the trees appeared near death, their once fertile tops bent naked to the ground like a swooning maiden who had just been given the news that her betrothed had been slain in a battle. We rode single file, as vast portions of the path narrowed far too tightly to facilitate much else. 

	After an endlessly quiet stretch of time, Talon suddenly stopped. He dismounted and raised a hand and we all pulled the reins back on our mounts. They obeyed. Gabriel, who had the reins of Shale’s horse, in addition to his own, managed to stop both of them with little effort. 

	Talon took a step forward, and then stopped again. He turned back toward his horse, came around to its backside and padded its rump. It looked to its old master and suddenly trotted off the path and into the forest.

	“What are you doing?” Lilian curtly demanded. I, too, was flummoxed by Talon’s action. 

	But before Talon could explain, two low, but deafening moans engulfed the shadowy surrounding. The sounds were reminiscent of the long, wooden horns blown by ascetics in their secluded mountain monasteries, but that music is designed to bring about a sensation of tranquility. This sound filled me with dread.

	Something massive moved on either side of the path. Branches swayed to and fro over two lumbering forms that broke from the surrounding trees, threatening to cut off the path before us.

	“By Canaan!” Whispered Lilian. “What are those things?”

	“Shambling mounds.” Said Talon. “Corrupted sentient plants. They are well beyond our skill. We must flee.”

	“We cannot turn back.” Said Gabriel. 

	“Then we push through!” Snapped Lilian as she kicked at the sides of her horse, sending it into a gallop. She let out a battle cry as she unsheathed her blade and slashed at the vegetation’s menacing branches. 

	Talon tumbled forward, effortlessly evading the creatures’ threats with weightless grace. 

	I galloped up beside Gabriel’s horse and reached out a hand to help him take the reins of Shale’s steed. Together we kicked our horses forward, pushing them to top speed. 

	We both prayed to Canaan to grant us His _divine shield_. A glittering aura surrounded us as we plowed through the narrowing gap between the two stirring trunks. Branches lashed down at us, grasping like talons, but by the glory of Canaan, our _divine shields_ turned back their onslaught.

	We broke through the menace unscathed, Shale’s steed in tow. Lilian and Talon were already far ahead of us. We raced on, leaving the slow moving, hulking creatures far behind us. 

	To my amazement, Talon was almost keeping pace with Lilian’s horse. He was bounding down the path in great, leaping strides. 

	Despite this show of talent, it was still not quite enough to out pace a horse in full gallop, and we were soon on top of the monk. 

	He looked up at us, then back at the path. The shambling mounds were no where to be seen. 

	“I believe we are in the clear.” Talon said.

	Gabriel called out to his sister, but she was too far ahead to hear. 

	“I’ll take Shale’s reins.” I said to him. “Go after her and let her know we’re out of danger.” 

	Gabriel nodded, handed me the reins and took off. A moment later he was gone from view. 

	Talon leaned up against the trunk of a tree. His breathing was a bit labored, but still fit. 

	“That was an impressive gait.” I said to him. He simply nodded.

	“It is part of the training of my order.” He said, taking in a deep breath and steadied himself. “Wiltangle is horribly corrupted. I only hope that Baern has not fled or… or worse.” 

	“Is that why you relinquished your horse?” I asked.

	“Partly.” He said. 

	Heavy quick hoof falls interrupted my opportunity to ask Talon more. We looked toward the sound to see Lilian appear on the path. Gabriel was not with her. 

	She steadied her steed as she came up to us.

	“Where’s Gabriel?” I asked her. 

	“He was right behind me.” She said, looking around, suddenly worried. 

	Just then a howl broke through the pounding silence of the forest. Another answered it. Before we could react, several more joined in chorus. The sound was far from the placid, somber howls of wild timber wolves calling their brethren together. It was deeper, crueler and held a malevolent intelligence. 

	Gabriel suddenly burst into view on the path before us. His white robes were torn and stained with his blood. He stumbled toward us, collapsing to the ground before we could reach him. 

	Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for His healing grace. White glows surrounded our palms as we placed them on Gabriel’s deep wounds. The blood was stemmed and the gashes closed. 

	“Dire wolves!” Gabriel uttered as he swelled back to full consciousness. “Almost as big as a mare. They leapt out of nowhere and killed my horse. I did all I could to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They dragged the horse away and almost got me as well.” 

	The forest was suddenly drowned in their devilish dirge. Yellow, glowing eyes blinked in the gathering shadows around us. Growls emanated from the darkness. 

	Talon turned to us and through clinched teeth snarled “Follow me.” 

	He leapt off down the path. We did not hesitate an instant and pursued the monk as he bounded inhumanly fast in front of us. The howls only intensified.

	Despite us pushing our steeds as fast as they could, Talon remained several paces ahead. He led us to a fork in the road. One way led slightly north, the other sharply south. He made for the southern path, and we followed, trusting in his knowledge of the forest and the way to Master Baern’s sanctum. Even so, I quietly prayed to Canaan for guidance and aid. 

	No sooner had my prayer ended that my tired eyes beheld a sight that caused my heart to leap. For a blissful moment the cries of the wolves were muted as all my senses focused on a clearing up ahead, and in the center of the it was built a circle of tall standing stones. 

	Such places were sacred to the denizens on the Green, and I knew we must be close to Baern. Talon had done it. 

	But as with all things, even hope can be fleeting. As we rode into the midst of the circle, I spotted Talon staring stone faced and frozen before an altar in the center of the grove. Upon it, flayed open, its blood still freshly dripping down the stony sides, was a woman, naked but for single crimson stained piece of cloth that shielded her most delicates. 

	The sound of the baying wolves once again assaulted us.  

	I dismounted, took hold of my mace and began to intone a prayer of _divine favor_ to guide my hand. Lilian unsheathed her blade. Gabriel slinked back behind a standing stone and began to pray. Talon readied himself into a defensive stance.

	All around us the wolves gathered. A great ring of mangy fur, bared, salivating teeth and hungry yellow eyes sprang out from the overgrowth.

	We were overwhelmed. 

	The battle went on for a very long time. There were but few of the tainted wolves, six in all, but they had amazing fortitude.  Gabriel’s description of them was apt; they were as massive as horses, but still as lithe as the most adroit hound. Rage and hunger seethed behind their eyes and as they snapped and tore at us with their maws and clawed paws. 

	Lilian was never more masterful with her blade, but even her expertise was no match for the sheer, primal power of the monstrous beasts. 

	I uttered prayers of _aid, blessings, cures_ and _divine shields._ They helped stem the tide from completely overtaking us, but the wolves refused to falter.

	Talon effectively slashed with his fists and feet. He even managed to snap a few of their throats by getting his arms around their massive necks and twisting with all his strength. 

	Gabriel held back from getting into the fray. I noticed his eyes were fixed on something just outside the circle. He seemed to be speaking to it, even pleading with it, but over the noise of the battle I could not hear what he was saying. 

	Lilian was struck deep by one of the wolves. Its massive maw tore into her side and ripped out a chunk of her flesh. She screamed with pain and I ran over to her. Spontaneously praying to cure her, I got behind her and the wolf in time to heal her. I only managed to stop the bleeding. The wound was too deep and she was having trouble standing. 

	“Gabriel!” I called out. “We need you! Your sister is in mortal danger!” 

	The wolf turned to me. I dove for it with my mace and managed only to strike the ground as it reeled back and let out a howl. Two of its cousins came up behind me. I was surrounded, but for the moment Lilian was being ignored.

	They bit down at me, but I evaded their blows. I swung with my mace, catching one in the side of the head, splintering a part of its skull, but it still moved. 

	I spotted out of the corner of my eye Gabriel racing up to his sister. His hands were sheathed in balls of light. 

	I did not have time to relish the moment, however as two of the wolves snapped at me. One slashed into my shoulder. Pain rained down my arm and back, but I was still more than able to fight. 

	The third wolf on me must have seen the flicker in my eyes as I caught Gabriel’s actions, for it turned away from me and bounded at Gabriel.

	I shouted a warning, but it was too late. The wolf had pounced, slammed its jaws down on Gabriel’s thigh and dragged him away. 

	We were desperate for aid.  Lilian stood. Still bleeding from the wolves’ deep rakes despite her brother’s aid, the Champion of Canaan raised a hand to the heavens, and then balled it into a fist.

	“Canaan!” She cried. “Please Lord!  Grant your Champion aid that she may smite her foes!” 

	There was a warm blast of wind that shot through the clearing. An ethereal, feminine voice echoed on the wind.  “Damian!” it uttered.  It was followed by a winnie.  A gleaming light flashed near the altar and out it sprang, fully saddled and wreathed in a silver halo, the most beautiful stallion I had ever seen. I had read of paladins and their mythical, celestially-ordained steeds, but this was the first I had ever witnessed the awe-inspiring miracle. I immediately gave glory to Canaan, and with renewed vigor faced down the rampaging, snarling wolves.

	Lilian charged her conjured ally and leapt into the saddle. Its whinny broke over the cacophony of the battle. Three more wolves raced into the clearing. The horse was at once surrounded. 	

	I continued to evade the last two wolves’ attacks, but my will was beginning to fray. I plunged my mace into the same spot of the wolf’s skull I had cracked just a moment before and felt the boney helm shatter at the blow. Blood sprung from the wolf’s mouth and it fell.

	More bounded at me. I steadied myself, ready to die fighting, when I suddenly saw two horse hooves lash out at one of the wolves on my left. It was struck dead in the side and let out a short shrill cry as it was thrown into one of the circle’s standing stones with a terrible snap. 

	I turned to see Lilian, astride her horse, commanding it to continue its onslaught. The three wolves that had surrounded her just a moment before lay unmoving at the very spot they threatened her. 

	“Damian!” She shouted. “Vanquish them to the last!” 

	In a fury of hooves, teeth, steel and Talon’s fists, the tide had at last turned in our favor. The battle continued for several more agonizing, bloody minutes. All the while, Gabriel’s fate was clear in my mind. If we were delayed much longer, I feared the worse for him. 

	At last the final wolf fell. It was only then that we realized all the other horses, including the one that bore Shale’s remains, were gone.

	“I’ll go after them.” Talon volunteered immediately. “You find Gabriel.” 

	There was no debate. Talon leapt from the clearing in search of our errant horses, while Lilian pulled me up to Damian’s saddle. 

	A moment later we heard the sound of the struggle to the south of us. Gabriel was screaming in agony. 

	Lilian kicked at Damian’s sides and we took off with the violence of a hurricane’s wind. We raced between the thick web of trees, the celestial steed’s grace and strength never faltering. 

	Within moments, we saw Gabriel, lying on the leaf strewn ground, his thigh held by a wolf’s jaw. Two more were slowly advancing on him, their back hairs erect and their tongues ravenously bobbing from their toothy maws. 

	Damian leapt between Gabriel and the two advancing wolves. His hooves struck at their jaws, shattering bones and snuffing out their lives.

	Lilian and I jumped from Damian’s saddle and raced to toward Gabriel. 

	Our efforts to overcome the wolf that had him were thwarted by its diabolical tactic of using her brother as a shield. All we could do was keep the creature from dragging Gabriel off. Lilian suddenly looked toward me and nodded, her eyes drifting just behind me. I gave a quick look to see Damian digging at the ground, its nostrils flared, ready for one more attack. 

	Lilian and I positioned ourselves on either side of the wolf. It dragged Gabriel across the ground. Lilian slashed at the wolf as I swung my mace to and fro. We circled around the beast, corralling it until its back was right where we wanted it. Lilian gave a nod to Damian and the horse unleashed its full fury on the back end of the wolf. Two mighty hooves and its powerful bite crushed and tore through flesh and bone. 

	In its dying throes the wolf wrenched Gabriel’s leg. The brawler-turned-repentant let out a horrible scream of primal agony. Blood gushed from the wolf’s mouth as Gabriel’s leg was torn from its hip socket. Only then did death take the wolf and it moved no more. 

	Lilian and I both gasped and ran for Gabriel. 

	Lilian took her brother into her arms, laying her healing hands upon him. Pain etched his face, but the bleeding ceased. 

	“The white stag.” He whispered to her. “Did you see it?”

	Lilian turned to me, searching for some answer. “Did you see it?” He repeated. 

	Lilian shook her head. 

	“Evora.” She said desperately. “Can you help him?” 

	I looked down at Gabriel and shook my head.

	“This is beyond me.” I sadly replied.   

	We heard hoof falls. Something was moving through the opaque foliage toward us. Lilian took hold of the hilt of the blade. My fists wrapped around my mace. Branches were brushed aside revealing Talon. Just behind him, leading our horses back to us, was a snow white stag, its massive antlers twisting majestically upwards. 

	“It seems we have a friend in this forest after all.” Said Talon. “I could not find the horses. This stag tracked them down and led them back to me.” 

	Lilian and I both heaved a great sigh of relief. Talon looked down at the mutilated Gabriel. He bent over him and shook his head sadly.

	“Perhaps Baern and the power of the Green can restore him.” He said. 

	Lilian and I looked to each other. It was clear we were all thinking, hoping and praying for the same thing.


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## iStrider (May 31, 2006)

Woot!  Thanks for the update.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jun 1, 2006)

Excellent update, indeed.


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## Canaan (Jun 3, 2006)

*Chapter 19: Baern's Prison*

Thanks for the support!

*************************************************************


	Almost in answer to our worried expressions over Gabriel and his mutilated leg, the white stag, this mysterious and helpful spirit of Wiltangle Forest, stamped at the ground with its hooves. 

	We all turned to it. 

	I watched in quiet awe as the stag suddenly and effortlessly balanced itself on its hind legs, pushing itself up straight as a man. The two front legs morphed into human arms. The hooves stretched into hands. The legs vanished under the waves of a snow white robe. The majestic antlers sank into its head. The long snout pushed into its face as its white fur gave way to fair flesh. The black, round, doll-like eyes, turned bright blue and their edges pinched down into the shape of almonds. 

 	“Master Baern.” Talon gasped, letting his stoic demeanor evaporate in the presence of the druid. “We bring your apprentice…”

	“I know, Talon. I know why you have come.” His voice was like the wind, soft and invigorating if he wished it to be, but it held a wisdom and power that could destroy like a hurricane if riled. He looked down at Gabriel’s mangled body. 

	“Follow me.” He finally said. “We are not safe here.” 

	Baern transformed back into the likeness of the white stag. We hoisted Gabriel onto the back of Lilian’s holy steed, Damian, and followed the stag through narrow, barely discernable paths, traveling on foot while pulling the reins of our horses behind us. 

	Shale’s body, dead now nearly two weeks, remained draped over the back of one of our horses, cocooned in perfumed linens, patiently waiting  for Master Baern’s command to rise and return to us.

	We followed the white stag for several silent minutes until at last the trees gave way to another clearing. The clearing was bare save for a solitary, tall petrified tree stump. The stag leapt to the stump, then gave a slow look around, its eyes narrowed, its ears erect, its nostrils flared.

	At once it relaxed and transformed back into its white-robed human form. I could not help but wonder which form was the true Master Baern, if either. Was he truly human, or was he some spirit of the forest made flesh by the Will of the Green? 

	He signaled us to join him at the stump. When we closed in, I spotted a gaping, arched hole that had been chiseled out of the stump. Within it, roughly forged stairs of mismatched stones led down into the ground. 

	“Leave the horses here, but bring Shale’s remains with you.” He told us as he descended the stairs.  “The horses will be quite safe here. At least for the time.” 

	Lilian and Talon helped Gabriel down the stairs. At the base of the stairs was a small room hollowed out of the living earth. Save for a few small tree stumps serving as makeshift chairs, the hovel was entirely deserted. Baern pushed three of the stumps together and signaled to Lilian and Talon to bring Gabriel over. He was gently positioned over them where he could lay.

	 Great rocky roots created a mesh above us and down the walls on all sides. It was a lonely little hole in the ground, but upon entering, I immediately felt my heart lift. The oppressive bleakness of the forest above disappeared. I felt strangely safe. 

	Baern sat down on one of the remaining stumps. His shoulders slumped, and he looked suddenly exhausted.

	“You could not have come at a worse time.” He said. “Wiltangle is all but lost. Our order has been betrayed and reduced to nothing. I am all that is left and this hole in the ground is my only safe haven. The forest is cursed and I fear I can do nothing for Shale. The implements needed to bring him back have been plundered by a traitor who has taken refuge in desolation. I am sorry. It seems you have come all this way for nothing.” 

	“Nonsense.” Lilian sharply retorted. “We have been on the trail of the power that ails your forest. We confronted it in the Wildlands and did well, in spite of our limited means, to vanquish its influence for a time. Master Baern, have hope. I and my brother have both been brought back from the dead by the might of Canaan to push back the growing tide of evil that plagues Turgos. Tell us everything that has happened here and we will do what is in our power to make it right.” 

	Talon and I shared a quick glance. The sudden look of worry broke through the monk’s features. She had just reprimanded a powerful druid, and in his own sanctum as well. But our fretting vanished when we saw Baern’s worn face softly melt into a wide grin.

	“Shale spoke of you often, Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan.” He said, standing and moving to her. “He spoke of your resolve and fearlessness. Clearly he was not exaggerating. We may not share a faith, you and I, but we do share hope.” He sighed, shook his head and looked to all of us. Gabriel continued his healing slumber.

	“Very well, then.” Baern began. “This is what you are up against. For centuries, a malevolent power has resided in Wiltangle. It is known as The Witch Tree and it was the duty of my order to prevent its evil taint from corrupting the whole of the forest. As you can see, we have failed. A fellow druid, and a once trusted friend, fell to the whispers of the Witch Tree after he was given the duty of watching over it. His name is Gothgul and he handled his fall from the balance with cunning and guile, until he and the Witch Tree together were far too powerful for us to stop. One by one the other members of our order fell to his treachery. The Witch Tree had given Gothgul a boon in exchange for his servitude. She bestowed upon him the curse of lycanthropy, but before the transformation could be complete, Gothgul had to perform a depraved ritual that included the sacrifice of an innocent. That innocent was Tiri, the last of my order besides me to survive Gothgul’s initial onslaught.”

	“The woman on the altar.” I muttered, horrified. 

	“Yes.” Answered Baern heavily. A prolonged silence hung in the air. “Her sacrifice seized the last of Gothgul’s humanity, forever changing him into a werewolf. He has since then cursed the others, some of them were my brothers and sisters in the order, some of them were from other parts of the forest, woodsmen and the like. Good, honest folk viciously conscripted into the Witch Tree’s army of evil. Since then I have been sequestered here. The area is protected by an _antipathy_ enchantment which prevents blood from being spilled within its boundaries. I know that by venturing beyond, I risk death, or worse, and the end my order and Wiltangle Forest.”

	“Where is this Gothgul?” Asked Lilian. “We will deal with him.” 

	“Slaying Gothgul will accomplish little.” Baern said. “What is truly needed is to return what he has stolen, the _golden cauldron of purity_ and the _silver sickle_. Without them my powers are truncated severely. I cannot harvest enough purified mistletoe to _reincarnate_ Shale and heal the wounds Gothgul and the Witch Tree have made on Wiltangle Forest.”  

	“What of my brother?” Lilian asked. “His leg was sundered in the battle with the wolves. Do you have the power to restore it?” 

	Baern only shook his head. “I can do little for him but keep the wound from becoming infected.”

	“Gabriel is a gifted healer.” I said. “We will need him with us if we are to successfully complete this task.”

	“I can fashion for him a temporary leg.” Baern said. “Little more than a wooden stump, for the time being it will at least steady him enough for him to walk.” 

	Lilian fought down growing tears. It was unclear and I did not ask her, but I wondered if they were tears of anger for Baern’s limited powers or tears of gratitude for his selfless willingness to do what he could for Gabriel.

	Several hours later, Gabriel was up and about. We had left the hovel and returned to the surface. Baern had taken a thick limb from one of the trees and whispered an incantation shaking a small suede bag with leather straps that smelled vaguely like cinnamon over it.  When he finished, the wood morphed and reshaped like water into a rounded staff with supports in Gabriel’s groin and around his side.  Baern then fastened it to Gabriel’s waist by leather straps salvaged from Shale’s horse’s saddle. Gabriel’s gait was labored and clumsy, but after some time and practice, he settled into a skipping stride that seemed to work quite nicely, though it was clear he was still suffering from fair amount of pain. 

	Restored as much as we could be, Baern informed us that the Witch Tree is to the south, beyond a wide river. The only means of traversing it is to the East, where we will find a fallen log that serves as a bridge. We were to make use of a worn path through the forest that will lead us to the log. 

	“Take care to not upset any of the bees.” Baern warned us. “And where you can, refrain from the slaughter of wildlife. The blight brought on by the werewolves has already ravaged enough of Wiltangle. I beg of you to be considerate and mindful of the fragility of my home.” 

	“I assure you, we shall be most careful.” Talon promised for the rest of us. I was glad of it. Being the sole voice of the Green amongst us, it was fitting that he alone should answer the great druid. 

	Talon led the way through the narrow eastward path. Lilian and Gabriel took up the middle, while I stayed a step or two behind, keeping my eyes and ears open to any potential dangers. The path was carpeted with dry, dead leaves and clumps of twigs. We made no effort to disguise our steps and doing so would have proved impossible. The bare limbs on either side of us continually threatened to snatch at our cloaks and armor as we passed under them. There was very little sunlight, as gray clouds hovered over the lifeless canopy above us.

	It was difficult watching Gabriel attempt to maneuver through the ever thickening quilt of leaves and twigs and lowering archways of sharp branches. At times his sister had to assist him, gently but firmly leading him by her shoulder. The leg stump fashioned by Baern would have been adequate enough had the path been as clear and level as the cobblestone streets of Goldfire Glen, but out in the forest, traversing over uneven earth hidden under ankle deep mounds of leaves, it was proving to be quite a challenge. The thought did creep up that perhaps it would have been best to leave Gabriel in Baern’s protective grove, but I immediately dismissed the uncompassionate idea and prayed to Canaan for patience.

	“Hmm.” I heard Talon utter several paces ahead. He had stopped and soon Lilian and Gabriel were right behind him. Turning about I walked backwards, mindful of my surroundings until I felt I was but an inch away from the rest of them. 

	“What is it?” Lilian asked. 

	“Most curious.” Talon said, unusually flummoxed. “That clump of mushrooms up ahead.” 

	“What of it?” Lilian replied. “Is it not natural for mushrooms to grow in forests?”

	“Not of that… size, or uniformity.” Talon said. “They almost appear to be, well, dwellings.”

	Without warning, whistling pierced the still air. A faint, but forceful rustling gathered around us. I felt something prick my shoulder, stopping just short of breaking the skin. 

	I turned quickly, mace in hand and raised to strike. My comrades had all fallen, tiny arrows sticking out of the backs of their exposed necks. I reached up and felt the little dart dangling at my shoulder. I grabbed it and pulled it free. Before I could examine it closely, I was surrounded by a cloud a little figures, each emanating a soft, uniquely colorful hue. 

	They closed in, flitting about me. I could make out roughly humanoid, but delicate bodies. Gossamer wings, fluttering with such speed they were nearly invisible fanned out of their backs. Just as soon as they descended around me, they stopped moving, revealing small bows readied with an arrow each. The tips of the arrows were painted with a green liquid. 

	I let go of my mace and held up my hands. I had heard of the Fae, of sprites, leprechauns and pixies that haunted secluded sylvan glades, but I had always believed them to be nothing more than fanciful mists of imagination, childhood playmates dreamed up by the lonely. These were no innocent shadows, though. They were quite real, and by the look of my slumbering friends, quite able at defending themselves. 

	“I mean you no harm.” I said. “We are on an urgent mission for the druid Baern. We mean to cleanse this forest of its taint.” 

	I heard something dragging along the forest floor. I looked down to see Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, still sound asleep, being dragged off by a hoard of Faean. 

	“Wait!” I said. “Please! We are here to help!” 

	Laughter sprinkled down around me. It was not quite malicious or caustic. It held within it a detached playfulness spiced with sincere enthusiasm. One of the glowing creatures, itself held in a sphere of grass green floated down to meet my gaze.

	“Stomp! Stomp! Then they chomp! We cannot live where they love to romp!”

	The voice was so unimaginably high pitched it took me a moment to realize the thing was speaking. The words were in common, but the rhyming and rhythm were so jarring I looked on, dumbfounded, as I filtered through the words trying to understand. Then it came to me.

	“The werewolves!” I gasped. “Yes! They are driving you from your homes.”

	“Yes! Yes! Can’t you guess?” He said in response. I thought a moment, then in the spirit of diplomacy, formulated my own clumsy couplet.

	“I’m a little at a loss, I must confess.”

	There was an eruption of laughter. I felt at once being dragged forward, toward the circle of mushrooms. All around me the creatures were fluttering, diving and looping around each other, cocooning me in a flurry of disorientating hues. I was pushed down to a sitting position on something round and surprisingly soft. I looked down to see it was a massive mushroom. I was surrounded by them, in the heart of what appeared to be a village made up of mushrooms. Little doors and windows had been hollowed out in the stalks of the fungi. More of these creatures bobbed in and out of the tiny homes frenetically. It was by far the most colorful I had seen Wiltangle since entering its withered boundaries. 

	“I will not cry. I will not yelp.” I began. “But I must try to procure your help.” 

	Laughter and applause exploded around me. The green glowing fellow floated down in front of me. 

	“We are pixies. We are Fae. And help comes as help may.” The glow subsided and I could make out the features of his pointed, angular face. It held a smile but masked a worried sadness. “Happiness has a flow and happiness has an ebb. Peas-blossom is sad. His Daisy is stuck in a web. Food will she be, lest ye move like a spinner and free my Daisy before she’s turned into dinner.”

	“Spiders have your lady sweet?” I asked. Everyone nodded, but Peas-blossom nodded the most violently. I did not know if it was trick of the glow around him, but I thought I spotted a tear shaped shadow crease his pointy cheek. “Then awake my friends and these spiders we will defeat.” 

	There was silence. I wondered if I had offended them in some way, or my rhyme did not suit them. Everything I had heard of the Fae led me to conclude that they were prone to fickleness and unpredictability. I readied myself for the worst.

	Then another explosion of applause and joyousness. Peas-blossom fluttered up above the others, his arms outstretched.

	“An oath made is an oath bound.” He said as the prismatic rabble quieted. “Lead him to where Daisy is sure to be found!” 

	“Wait! Wait!” I hollered aloud, standing. They all gasped and scattered, save for Peas-blossom who merely turned. I could clearly make out the look of annoying anger wash across his little face. “To complete this task… there’s one thing I must ask… please allow my friends to awaken. If not, then I fear your hope in me is forsaken…” 

	The words tumbled out like rotten oranges from an upturned barrel, smelly, mashed and covered in white moldy spots. 

	Peas-blossom’s face turned to the small mound just outside their mushroom village where the other pixies had dragged the comatose Lilian, Gabriel and Talon. Tiny, glowing faces peeked out from the windows in the stalks and around the thick of trees. Peas-blossom turned back to me, a wide, jovial grin spreading over his face. 

	“No need to shout and get all hoarse.” He said, laughing. “Without a doubt, we’ll wake them up, of course!” 

	Something stirred within me. My forehead suddenly began to spasm. It was Balian’s Mark. I had not felt it in so many days I almost forgot it was there. It spurned me to ask the pixies one more favor. 

	“Forgive me, please.” I began, trying to formulate another quick poem. “If you can, with ease, uh… the leg on him, where there is but one, can you make it two? Can it be done?” 

	The pixies all crowded around Gabriel. They fluttered around his wooden leg, some pulling at it playfully, others just looking it up and down, fingers to their chins. 

	Peas-blossom suddenly turned to me and smiled. “Have a seat!” He said. “I’ll return with a treat!” And he flew off. I sat on the grassy floor near where Gabriel lay. A second later Peas-blossom had returned, flying erratically in the air while precariously trying to balance a rolled up parchment that was six times the size of his body in both hands. He dropped it into my lap with a sigh.

	“Read it slow. Read it right.” He snickered with an air of menace in his high pitched voice. “And his leg will grow where there is now but light.” 

	I looked down at the scroll with what must have been a shock, for everyone looking on laughed again. They all gathered around me, some tugging at my armor as they settled in on my shoulders and knees. I picked up the scroll, fingers shaking and unrolled it. 

	It was a _regenerate_ prayer, and I knew all too well, it was beyond my current capabilities. I could read it aloud, but if I misspoke even a single syllable, not only would the prayer be lost, but the divine power held within the scroll could be angered enough at my arrogance and insolence that I could be immolated in a conflagration of retribution, my soul sent instantly to Purgatory to await judgment. 

	Still, Gabriel had suffered enough. It was by Canaan’s grace that this scroll be given to me. I would not deny Him.

	The pixies leaned in, wide-eyed. The anticipation was palpable. 

	I began to read.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jun 5, 2006)

Excellent update. And extra congratulations if the rhyming exchange was genuinely RP'd "live" (even if it did rather remind me of a particularly bad Rupert Bear episode).


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## Canaan (Jun 10, 2006)

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Excellent update. And extra congratulations if the rhyming exchange was genuinely RP'd "live" (even if it did rather remind me of a particularly bad Rupert Bear episode).




Heheh, they were indead RP'd live.  It was a hoot!  The pixies were, by far, my favorite scene of this session.  And they make a reappearance much later in the story hour. 

D'nemy and I have been working hard to get this storyhour updated.  I'm working from current sessions, backwards.  And he is working from the beginning, forward.  That way we can get this to a point where we have all the material written.

Expect an update Mondayish.

Is Shieldhaven still tuning in?


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## Shieldhaven (Jun 11, 2006)

Yep, I'm still around.  Just lurkified. 

Haven


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## Canaan (Jun 13, 2006)

Glad you're still around, Haven!  I will update tonight.  I had trouble accessing the site this morning, so I couldn't post.  I'm at work now.


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## Canaan (Jun 14, 2006)

*Chapter 20: A River's Might*

I felt the unblinking stares of the pixies breathlessly boring into me as I focused in on the weighty words scrawled magnificently on the parchment I held tightly in my hands. I recognized all the words and could discern their meaning, but the might of the divine power trapped within them and infused into the scroll threatened to overwhelm me with every syllable I meticulously articulated. 

	I attempted to drown out all other stimuli save for the page before me and the sound of my own voice. I felt heavenly flames seep into my fingers from where they grasped the two ends of the unraveled scroll. With each passing word the heat intensified until it felt as if my flesh was being licked from my bones. I attempted to ignore the escalating pain knowing it was the only way to save Gabriel’s leg as well as my immortal soul. If I misread only one word, the _regenerate_ spell would not only fail, but the power held in the scroll could consume me in celestial punishment for my arrogance. 

	I, at last, finished the prayer. The scroll burned away in my hands. The pixies let out a whoosh and then there was silence. I looked at my hands, believing to see my flesh hanging like melted candle wax from the wick of my bones, but to my amazement and relief, my fingers appeared unscathed. 

	The pixies began flitting about excitedly. The night air burst into a cacophony of color. Silhouetted under the glow, Lilian, Gabriel and Talon all lay, still sound asleep from the paralyzing toxins that laced the pixies’ arrows. I focused in on the mangled lump that protruded from under Gabriel’s waist. His leg had been torn from its moorings by dire wolves and although I had the means to keep the wound from turning rancid, neither I, nor Shale’s master, the druid Baern, had the power to regenerate a whole leg. The best Baern could do was to _woodshape_ a fallen branch into a temporary stump by which Gabriel could steady himself and, with some effort, manage to keep pace with the rest of us. The pixie’s spokesman, named Peas-blossom, had given me the divine scroll in an effort to restore Gabriel’s leg. In exchange, I promised the pixie we would rescue his love, Daisy, who had been ensnared in a monstrous spider’s web.

	I watched intently as a gray bone slowly, painfully by the look of it, stretched out from Gabriel’s wound. Fresh blood wormed around it. All the pixies began cheering. My heart, too, went up in thanks and joy, but just as I let out a cry of joy, the bone abruptly stopped its growth and shuddered. Gabriel awoke with a sickening groan. 

	The bone crumbled to dust. 

I had failed.

	There was a moment of silence as the pixies deflated from their celebration. It was soon drowned out by a growing chant. 

	“Again! Again! Again!” The pixies sang. I turned to Peas-blossom who’s gossamer wings fluttered by my ear. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders impishly. 

	“Had I another scroll...” He began, a hint of playfulness flavoring his voice . “What say you? Would you give it a roll?”

	I nodded without hesitation, though my head was splitting in twain from the strain and my limbs were suddenly heavy as anvils. Peas-blossom smiled sadly, shook his head and flew straight up. He let out a shrill whistle that rose above the chanting. The little mushroom village fell silent.

	“Wake up his friends.” He said. “Before Daisy’s life ends.” 

	An hour later, myself, Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, awake and well briefed on our quest, we headed southward through a chokingly thick clump of trees. Despite the difficulty in traversing it, the sheer verdancy of this area of forest gave me great comfort. It was overflowing with caroling birds, scampering hares and scouring squirrels. Most of Wiltangle had been all but blighted by the power of a traitorous druid named Gothgul who had been corrupted by the Witch Tree, an ancient evil that had haunted the woods for centuries. Other than Master Baern’s paltry sanctum, this glimpse of beauty gave me insight as to what had been lost in Wiltangle and what would soon crumble if we did not find and vanquish Gothgul’s influence. 

	But I had vowed to Peas-blossom that in exchange for awakening the others, we would rescue Daisy from a group of hungry spiders. We had no choice but to follow through with this quest before we dealt with Gothgul. Peas-blossom also promised us he would show us the way to the Witch Tree’s abode if Daisy was returned to him. 

	We slowly traipsed southward through the denseness, until Talon, who had been leading us in his usual silence, stopped and held up a hand. He pointed forward.

	“There.” He said. “Just beyond those oaks.” I squinted in the direction he pointed, but could see nothing. Gabriel suddenly pointed. 

	“That?” He asked Talon. 

	“Yes.” The monk replied. Lilian and I shared befuddled glances.

	“I see nothing.” Lilian said. “Talon, what is it?”

	“A gray, cottony wall.” He said so quietly he almost breathed the words.

	“Like a web?” Lilian inquired. 

	Both he and Gabriel nodded. 

	“This way.” Talon ordered, and then bounded away. We kept up as best we could. Talon’s training had bestowed upon him the ability to pass over terrain at alarming speeds. Gabriel heaved as he skipped along on his wooden leg. I slowed my pace just enough to keep stride with Gabriel. Not out of pity, but out of practicality. He was a Priest of Canaan and an exceptionally gifted healer. If he was allowed to lag behind and become lost, I feared our chances at surviving the quest before us would be horribly reduced.

	I looked ahead and spotted Talon. He had stopped. Then I saw it. A dusty gray wall hung between two dead trunks. Intermittently, a soft yellow and white light flickered deep within the wall, like the face of a daisy smothered by fog. 

	Forgetting Gabriel altogether I hurried forward, pointing at the flickers. 

	“That must be her!” I said to Talon. He raised a finger and tapped it on his lips. 

	“Yes.” He whispered. “And we must assume she is not alone.”

	Lilian slowly drew her blade to muffle any sound it might produce scraping along her sheath. 

	“It doesn’t matter.” She said. “We do this quickly and hurry her back to the pixies.” 

	Without warning she slashed violently at the wall, cutting several inches of webbing away, but by doing so, cocooned her sword in a dulling silky blob. 

	“I do not think that will work.” Talon said. Lilian scowled and proceeded to rub the blade on an adjacent trunk. 

	I heard a sharp spark behind me. Talon and I turned to see Gabriel leaning over an old twisted branch. He held a ball of flint and was scraping it over a band of steel. Sparks showered over the branch. When they hit a fire ignited on the end of the wood. Gabriel reached out, took up the branch and hobbled toward us. 

	“Won’t that also burn Daisy?” I asked. 

	“We’ll have to be careful. And quick.” He said as he hit the web with the fire. The strands curled out of our way as the flames took hold. Gabriel stepped forward, swinging the makeshift torch back and forth, cutting a path. 

	 Bloated silhouettes gathered above and around us. Long, spindly legs, taut and erect, warned us not to take another step, but the fires were already spreading outward, pushing the monsters back. Dust clogged black smoke billowed around me. I could make out a chorus of hisses that chillingly, if harmlessly, spat out from the cowed spiders. 

	Then I heard a scream, like that of a terrified little girl. The yellow and white lights no longer flickered, but pulsated like the remnants of an explosion. I leapt forward. Forgetting the stickiness of the webs and ignoring the searing, icy stabs of the fires that threatened to consume me, I reached out toward the colors. I tore through the burning wall, knowing a part of me was on fire, but wishing for nothing else but to save this innocent from an awful fate.

	At last I could make out a slender, diminutive figure, bound within a sock of webbing a few more paces ahead of me. I lashed out. It was only then that I saw one of my hands wreathed in orange flames. I tucked it under my arm and slammed it into my pit. The fire immediately extinguished in a puff of smoke. I ignored the pain as I reached out with my other hand. It had been luckily spared from the fire. 

	My hand closed in around the screaming pixie. I pulled back, tearing her little cocoon from the web just as the flames closed in around me. 

	As I turned, all I could see was devilish dancing red and orange heads. I threw my cloak over Daisy, tucked my chin into my chest and barreled forward through the fire. Something grabbed my hand and I was pulled violently forward.

	When I opened my eyes I could see Talon staring placidly at me. His hands were still grasping my arm. He was dragging me clear of the conflagration. Lilian was on my right and Gabriel on my left. We were all running. 

	Under my cloak, Daisy coughed. 

	“I got her.” I said before a wave of coughing, spurred by the clouds of smoke I had swallowed, drowned my further attempts at talking. 

	“Good.” I heard Lilian breathlessly say as she ran. “Now let’s get out of this cursed place.” 

	Webs quickly burn and the fires they produce quickly extinguish. The remainder of Wiltangle was left untouched by Gabriel’s tactic. The giant spiders who called the sheets of webbing their home, however, were utterly obliterated. 

	We ran back to the pixies’ mushroom village. When we arrived, covered in soot and ash, we were greeted with silence. I had nearly forgotten about our quarry under my cloak until I felt a stir. Tossing the cloak aside, little Daisy, still bound in webs, looked up at me, clearly annoyed. 

	“Forgive me, little one.” I said. “Let me help you out of that cocoon.”

	“No!” She howled and began screaming. 

	The village suddenly roared into an avalanche of flutters and blinking, colorful lights. Peas-blossom’s blue orb flew up at me. 

	“Daisy!” He gasped. “You’re back! You’re saved!” 

	“Please, Peas-blossom!” She cried. “Free me from this one.” She pointed at me. “He is most depraved!” 

	I looked back at Lilian, Talon and Gabriel who were all stifling laughs. I was at a loss as to what was so funny about Daisy’s baseless accusation as to the nature of my character. 

	“You did say you wanted her out of that cocoon.” Talon glibly said. 

	My burned hand healed by Gabriel’s prayer to Canaan, we gathered at a mound just outside the pixie’s village. With much thanks and after a heaping of delicious and filling sweetcakes, Peas-blossom, with a freed Daisy bobbing at his side, thanked us profusely and promptly paid the debt he had promised. 

*“Heroes true and happily thee,
of many thanks I offer free.
Many dangers here are true
And more to face before you’re through
Gothgul festers to the South
The Witch Tree’s lies stuffed in his mouth
Power it takes to set him free
From the dark deceit of the Witch’s Tree
Much I’ve learned and much I know.
To you this wisdom I now bestow,
To poison her roots and choke her heart
May these nails six give you a start.
Forged from pennies of purest copper
Aim for her roots and that will stop her
Drive them deep by fist or hammer
The blessed powers are sure to damn her. 
Heed the warning but not the doom
Make this forest not a tomb
Where there is death, let life regain
And beauty prevail and goodness reign.”​*
	Talon took hold of the six copper nails and tucked them into a pocket sewn into his robe. In addition to the nails, Peas-blossom presented us with a dozen _good berries_ that, when eaten, would heal small wounds, and a potion he claimed would render the imbiber _invisible_ for a time. He told us the Witch Tree’s abode lies to the south and to follow Tangle river “First to the west, then to the south, then to the west again.” The directions were committed immediately to my memory, not that I am unusually gifted with such things, but more so from the fact that it was only time I remembered him speaking out of the bounds of a rhyming couplet. 

	With the happy waves and dancing globes of the pixies far behind us, we headed south until we finally came to a wide and deep rushing Tangle River. The roar of the churning waters was so loud it nearly drowned out our ability to converse with each other. We found we were forced to shout if we were to be heard at all.

	“Baern spoke of a fallen log that straddles the river!” Gabriel shouted. “We should try to find that first!” 

	Talon again led the way. We headed west, the rough waters to our left and the wall of trees to our right. In a matter of just a few steps, the fertile copses that surrounded the pixie’s mushroom village gave way to the desiccated, graying husks of dead trees that made up the vast majority of Wiltangle Forest. 

	“There!” Talon shouted, pointing ahead. Just on the foot of the horizon I spotted the butt of a colossal fallen tree. It spanned the entire width of the river. The violent current flowed harmlessly underneath it by a good fifteen feet. Even so, I worried how steady the bridge was given that neither side was anchored. All it had keeping it in place was its massive weight. If that weight were to change, I wondered, by our passing, would the log teeter or roll, sending us into the racing river in the process? 

	I soon learned that Talon shared my concerns for as we reached the edge of the bridge, he stopped us. 

	“I should go first.” He said without provocation. “To test its resilience. Stay here.”

	Without another word, he jumped on the log and slowly began walking across. Each step was deliberate and controlled. His gaze remained fixed forward. His arms dangled loosely at his side. I realized I was holding my breath watching him. I forced myself to relax. I looked over at Lilian and Gabriel who were also holding their breath. I smiled inwardly, realizing I wasn’t the only one feeling so tense, and looked back over toward Talon. 

	He had made it to the other side. He leapt off the log and waved to us. 

	“It’s narrow!” He yelled, his voice muffled by the waves. “But it’s sturdy enough! Take it slow and you should be fine. Go one at a time, just to be safe!” 

	Gabriel volunteered to go next. With Lilian’s help, he climbed up onto the log and stood there for a moment, getting his balance. He finally took his first, cautionary step, then stopped again to regain his balance. This went on for several grueling moments. Each step was labored, halting and excruciatingly slow.

	A solitary, boney broken branch protruded upwards from the fallen log at its center. Gabriel inched to it, his hands outstretched like a toddler reaching for his mother’s soothing embrace. It was the only handhold for the entire stretch of the bridge and it was clear by Gabriel’s increasingly fatigued gait that he wished to make good use of it. Lilian was quick to lend support to her brother’s plan. 

	“Rest at the branch!” She yelled out. “Get your strength back before continuing! Be patient! You are doing very well!” 

	Gabriel turned back to us. His face was splotched with effort. His teeth were clinched and barred. Spittle danced down his chin in thick globs. He curtly nodded and turned back, again reaching out for the branch.

	He was merely a step away. He swung his wooden leg outward in a motion he had been successfully utilizing up until this point, but on the inward swing, his good leg faltered and his knee inexplicably lurched forward, dissolving the necessary space for the wooden stump to clear the top of the log safely. 

	The stump hit the side of the bridge. Gabriel gave a shout, his arms flailing. Talon leapt back up onto the bridge and bounded for the priest, but he was too late.

	Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for help. She followed Talon’s lead and jumped fearlessly onto the bridge, all fear for her own safety transferred to her brother. 

	They were both, tragically, too slow. Gabriel fell into the rushing river with a splash and the waves took him. Lilian clumsily reached out for her brother at the point where he fell. Talon hurried up beside her, lunging forward to grab her waist and prevent her from succumbing to her brother’s fate. But even the amazing speed and skill of the monk proved futile, for Lilian slipped on a slab of bark loosened by Gabriel’s fall, and she tumbled into the water.

	The violent current pulled them westward. Talon cupped his hands over his eyes, watching their bobbing heads and thrashing hands vanish in the horizon. Ignoring me, the ascetic tore off to the far side of the bridge and ran westward along the bank. 

	I watched impotently as Talon disappeared from my view. I was at a loss for what to do. Laden with armor and a heavy mace, as well as a backpack distended with a useless assortment of supplies, I thought of stripping my burden from me and diving into the river after them.

	Then wisdom reminded me I could not swim. 

	I looked at the far side of the bridge, took a deep breath and climbed up onto the log. I prayed to Canaan to steady my stride and ran across, trying to forget the narrowness, the rushing waters, my own lack of grace and agility, focusing only on getting across and saving my friends. 

	Before I knew it, I was falling off the far side of the bridge, prepared in that fractured, frightened moment to be torn away by the current, but to my surprise and relief, I hit rock hard ground and dusty, dead grass. 

	Spitting the dirt from my mouth, I stood up. Blood leaked through some scrapes in my palms. I ignored the ensuing stings and ran westward along the bank, following the path of the vanished Talon, images of Gabriel and Lilian, washing up onto the banks, their lungs bloated with river water, their eyes staring lifeless to an ambivalent sky, haunted my every hurried step. 

	I soon came to a fork in the river. One tributary continued west, while the other turned south. I spotted Talon on the bank by the diverging streams. He must have seen me coming, for his hands were waving urgently. 

	I waved back, continuing to run. He balled both his hands into fists, and then pointed southward, thrusting his arms in that direction. I nodded and waved in response. He dropped his arms and tore off to the south. In a blur of gray, he again vanished from my view. 

	I ran after him coming upon the southward bank in a matter of moments. Winded from the run, I bit down my growing fatigue, took another deep breath to placate my griping sides and chest, and continued the blind chase. A few seconds later I spotted Talon. He was bounding for a second fallen log that straddled the river. He was looking northward, upstream. I followed his gaze, never slowing my gait, and saw with much relief both Lilian and Gabriel, their heads still above the surface, their arms still thrashing about.

	They were still in great danger, but at least they were alive. Talon leapt up onto the fallen log and positioned himself to intercept them both. 

	I doubled my effort to catch up with him, wishing to assist in any way I could. 

	Talon lay down on the bridge. He stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers in an attempt to make them as long as humanly possible. Gabriel and Lilian, spotting Talon’s efforts, attempted to shunt themselves over to his waiting grasp. The current was still very strong, but they both managed to swim well enough to position themselves directly in line with the monk’s hands. 

	Then with horror I watched helplessly as the log upon which Talon lay suddenly burst into flames. The fire was laced and edged with curdling black lines. A _firetrap_. And a tainted one at that. This was clearly the work of Gothgul’s madness. 

	Talon let out no scream, no cry of pain or terror. I feared the explosion had completely incinerated him, but as the fire cleared I saw Talon still laying on the log, his face and exposed arms swathed with blackened, oozing burns. He had not moved, not even flinched. This was truly a man of extraordinary resolve and strength.

	I will never forget the selflessness and heroism he demonstrated in that moment. 	If only his effort would have reaped the desired fruit.

	Despite the best efforts from all three, Lilian and Gabriel failed to connect with Talon’s reach. They passed under the bridge, the current pulling them further south. 

	Talon stood, fingers of smoke twisting upward and outward from his smoldering frame. He twisted around marking Gabriel and Lilian’s plight. He tore his burnt robes off him and threw them into the water, then bounded off the bridge, landing on the west side of the river. 

	I hurried up to the bridge, finally catching up with him. Without thinking, I leapt up onto the fallen log and rushed across. A blackened line traced around the silhouette of where Talon laid a moment prior. I jumped over it, closed my eyes, prepared for the explosion, but none came. Then I remembered from my studies that once a _firetrap_ is triggered, its powers are gone until recast. 

	Talon rushed southward. I called out to him as I leapt off the bridge. He ignored me, continuing his run. I called out again, this time summoning up a more commanding voice. Nearly the whole of his flesh was covered in burns and he was in no condition to fly off without treating his burns. 

	“Talon!” I commanded, my voice cracking with fatigue. “Please! Wait for me! You are horribly wounded! Let me help you!” Then I corrected myself. “Let Canaan help you!” 

	“They will drown if I do not reach them in time!” He hollered back as he bound forward, widening the gap between us. As I ran I prayed to Canaan to give me strength. 

	Almost in answer, I felt a sudden rush of energy. Sweat streamed from my forehead and slid down from my armor clad shoulders and arms, but all the strain of effort that dogged my pace vanished in a rush of bliss that wrapped around my temples and cleared away any and all doubt. 

	I felt power coursing through me. Canaan’s grace had entered me and granted me deeper wisdom, a more profound understanding of His strength and will, and I felt I had taken a singularly potent step closer to Him. 

	Up ahead, another stream broke from the southern river. It stretched to the west. Shallow, white plumes of the river broke over a line of sharp stones that were embedded in the southern tributary just to the south of the westward river. 

	Talon, naked but for a loincloth, dove into the westward stream and swam across to the far side. He pulled himself up to the bank and headed for the sharp stones. Lilian and Gabriel, still jailed by the rough current, slammed into the stones, and were raked across the jagged surface. 

	But the current finally freed them. Gabriel was not moving, but Lilian was pulling herself to her feet as Talon closed in to help.

	Both of their efforts were interrupted by a piercing howl that wafted from a thick copse of dead trees behind them. It was soon joined by others.

	“More dire wolves.” I thought, but my swift assessment was instantly dashed. Dread seeped in under my blissful state as several men emerged from the copse.

	They were covered entirely in mangy, brown fur. Their feet and hands were horribly elongated and bedecked with wide yellow claws caked with browning blood. Their faces were void of all humanity, mutated as they were into the cruel mien of rabid wolves.

	The madness of Gothgul and the twisted curses of the Witch Tree. I beheld the fate of Baern’s druidic friends with a mixture of pity and fury. 

	Gabriel began to stir on the rocks that held him. Talon hurriedly assisted Lilian to her feet as she gathered her strength enough to draw her blade as the first werewolf pounced.

	I raced up to the edge of the westward flowing river, sliding down the steep bank until my feet were submerged in the churning waters. Inches ahead, the river’s shelf plunged into bottomless shadow. I was cut off from the others. 

	More werewolves emerged from the woods. They closed in around Talon and Lilian, tongues hungrily massaging their bared fangs. 

	I prayed to Canaan, reaching deep, trawling for aid in the coming conflict.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jun 14, 2006)

Excellent update - very exciting and gripping stuff!


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## Shieldhaven (Jun 14, 2006)

Wow.  These PCs just can't catch a break!  If el-remmen hadn't already claimed the name, "Out of the Frying Pan" would apply to this SH rather nicely. 

Yay, update!

Haven


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## Canaan (Jun 18, 2006)

Shieldhaven said:
			
		

> Wow.  These PCs just can't catch a break!  If el-remmen hadn't already claimed the name, "Out of the Frying Pan" would apply to this SH rather nicely.
> 
> Yay, update!
> 
> Haven




Thanks for the support!  Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse.....


*Chapter 21:  The Witch Tree*

	Feral growls mixed with the churning waters of Tangle River as the werewolves closed in around Lilian and Talon. I was standing on the far side of the wide river, deep waters cutting me off from the battle. 

	I looked down at my belt, suddenly remembering the rope I had looped there. Yes, it should just be enough to reach the far side of the river; the only problem was there was nothing to anchor it too. I knew the only way to get across was to attempt to swim. I had thrown off my backpack to lighten my load, but knew I would not survive a moment of battle without armor, even if I managed to make my way across the river. 

	I stood on the bank of the river, ready to wade into the rushing current when I was stopped by a sudden realization. Canaan was with me. Immediately I felt a rush of righteous strength emerging from my very soul. I uttered a prayer to Canaan calling on His wrath to smite my enemies. 

	A sword, wreathed in golden flames appeared above me. I pointed it toward the battle and it obeyed my commands. I called out. “Behold! The power of Canaan! Kneel before His Eternal Holy Might or be driven to oblivion!” 

	The _spiritual weapon_ spun for one of the werewolves, slashing deep into the beast’s hide. Lilian let out a shout. 

	“Evora!” She cried. “Hurry! My blade is useless against them! The wounds it inflicts instantly heal!” One the werewolf's claws raked through Lilian’s armor, leaving deep gashes in its wake that instantly filled up with crimson rivulets. She screamed from the pain, but kept on fighting. 

	Talon had been pounding with his fists. As they struck the hide of the creatures, his fists let out a short, green burst of energy, causing the creatures to howl in agony and fall back. Somehow his natural weapons were overcoming their lycanthropic immunities as they hit home. 

	Gabriel had finally come to his feet. The werewolves had been, up to this point, ignoring him. Seeing the shimmering spiritual weapon dancing in the air around the fray, the brawler-turned-priest said a quick prayer to Canaan and hobbled closer to the melee, positioning himself behind his wounded sister. His hands were sheathed in orbs of light and he reached out to Lilian’s wounds, healing them instantly. 

	I looped one end of my rope to the broken trunk of a dead tree that drooped near the riverbank. I took hold of the other end of the rope and rushed to the edge of the river. Still feeling Canaan’s Justice forged into a _spiritual weapon_ of pure energy, I waded out into the waters, feeling the current pushing me westward. 

	I stopped, my eyes on the water, my ears fixated on the awful sounds of the skirmish. I prayed to Canaan, asking Him to _bless_ my allies. Then I stepped forward, off the narrow shelf and I, laden with my heavy chain armor, dropped like a stone in the deep, rushing waters. I sank, twisted end over end by the chaotic current. Icy water poured down my throat and filled my stomach, but Canaan was with me and by His grace, my lungs were spared the deluge. 

	My fist held tight around the end of my rope and I felt it pull at my fingers as it went taut and kept me from being dragged any further. I blindly grabbed the rope with my other arm pushed against the current, hand over hand, climbing the length of the rope until I broke the surface of the river.

	Spitting out the water that filled my mouth, I followed it with an immediate, raspy gasp for life-giving air. 

	I heard the horrid cries of the wolves, mixed with the sounds of Lilian’s blade slicing the air and Talon’s fists pummeling bone, and felt the presence of Canaan's _spiritual weapon_.  I commanded it to continue its onslaught against our enemies. 

	“Evora!” I heard Gabriel call out. “Are you alright?” 

	I replied with a grunt and a half hearted nod as all my strength and focus was on the task of pulling myself up out of the churning waters. 

	“Let me help you!”  Gabriel added. “We need you over here!”

	At last I felt the shelf under my feet and I scrambled out of the river and onto the muddy bank. I spun around to see Gabriel, just feet from the circling lycanthropes that assailed Talon and Lilian, hands outstretched by the far side of the river. 

	“Throw me the rope!” He hollered. “I’ll pull you across!” 

	Exhausted as I was from the struggle, I shook the tiredness from me, grabbed hold of the end of my rope and with all my strength threw it at Gabriel. To my relief and amazement, he caught it on the first try, despite my clumsy, effeminate pitch. He pulled the rope tight and in an instant, looped the end around his waist to anchor it.

	“Hurry!” He cried. Two of the werewolves heard him and broke from the fray to close in. I called the gleaming, fiery blade of Canaan over to them. It danced over, cleaving clean through one of them. The onslaught was so sudden and vicious, it managed to cower the other one. I had my window and I took it. 

	Grasping the taut rope that now straddled over the surface of the water, I boldly pulled myself across the racing river. The current was just as harsh, but anchored by the ad-hoc bridge, I was making it across, one agonizing pull at a time. Gabriel kept urging me on. 

	I risked a look up to him and spotted the cowered werewolf behind him suddenly shake off his fear and growl.

	“Gabriel!” I cried. “Behind you!” 

	He turned just at the beast pounced on him. The rope slackened and I almost lost my grasp, but managed to hold on as the rushing current battered me about. 

	I called forth the gleaming blade to attack, and it obeyed, but the creature must have been ready for it, for at the last second, it twisted clear. In the next instant, it slammed into Gabriel and the two rolled onto the ground.

	I managed to wrap part of the rope around my arms to improve its hold on me. Some of Gabriel’s old brawler talents must have surged back to him, for a second later, he was standing up out of the roll, one of the beast’s arms held in his grasp and with a great grunt, he threw it over his shoulder and into the rushing river. 

	It shrieked like a dog whose leg had been shattered as it slammed into the water and was lost under the harsh current. In the next instant the rope grew taut again under Gabriel’s grasp and I hastened over to him, mindful of the possibility the drowned creature may emerge any moment, or worse, claw at my legs in an attempt to pull me down with it. 

	Neither happened, and with Gabriel’s help, I managed to pull myself out of the river and scramble up the bank on the far side. 

	“Lilian is in trouble.” Gabriel hissed, his old anger threatening to boil over. 

	“Only for the moment.” I said between labored breaths. “The tide will now turn.” 

	I rushed over to the battle. Lilian and Talon were both in the thick of it. Talon’s hands were consumed with a mystical green energy that erupted into great flashes of light as each struck the lycanthropes. His flesh had been rended badly by the werewolves relentlessness, but he was holding his own.

	Lilian, on the other hand, looked close to death. Blood poured over her armor and down her arms, covering her gauntlets in secondary, dripping crimson gloves. I prayed to Canaan to shower my allies with a _mass lesser vigor_, to slowly, but continuously heal their wounds for the remainder of the battle. 

	Gabriel limped up behind me as three of the werewolves broke from fighting Talon and Lilian to face me. 


	“Turn back, oh ye foes of righteousness!” I hissed. “Turn back to the pits from whence you came or face eternal perdition!” 

	They answered with howls and sickening chomps. I took the moment to count the ranks of the enemy. Six remained. Three lay dead on the grass. One was lost in the Tangle River’s depths. There were four of us. The odds were shifting to our favor. 

	There was a horrid snap of splintering bone and muscles torn asunder. Talon had wrenched the neck of a werewolf. He dropped its corpse and leapt on the back of one of three threatening Gabriel and me. The other two lunged at us, with claws and rabid jaws.

	Searing pain poured into my chest as two sets of claws ripped through my chain shirt and slashed into my flesh, but I managed to feint to the left just before the creature’s cursed, disease ridden fangs closed on my throat. 

	I gave Gabriel a quick glance to see he had suffered identical wounds. 

	Talon rolled clear of us, taking the werewolf he had just grappled with him. 

	Lilian dodged, weaved and parried the enraged attacks of the two beasts still threatening her. Her own blood draped over her entire upper torso like a shawl. I knew she would not last long without immediate aid.

	I called upon Canaan to bless my mace with his divinely magical power, transforming it, for a time, into a _magic weapon_. Silver light erupted from the center of the mace and sheathed the head in a mystic glow. 

	I luckily dodged another flurry of claws and teeth, diving out of the way just before disaster, then jabbed my mace upward, striking the lower jaw of the werewolf with so much force, it dislodged from the skull and sent the fiend spinning on the grass, whimpering in agony. 

	Gabriel successfully grappled his foe and pinned it to the ground. 

	“Help Lilian!” He called to me. I spotted Talon lifting the werewolf he bettered and throwing it, squirming and howling, into the river. 

	The path was clear to Lilian. I rushed up to where the same two werewolves still threatened her. I struck one of them square in the back with my empowered mace and it howled with rage and spun around at me. I took a step back and readied for it. One of its claws tore deep scratches into my side. I bit down the pain and countered its blow. 

	I slammed downward with all my strength on its crown. I could feel its skull splitting under the strike. Without a sound it fell forward. I stepped out of its way, letting it timber to the ground. 

	I cried out to Lilian, my free arm outstretched, palm up. 

	“Champion of Canaan! Show me your blade! Let it be an extension of His Righteousness!” 

	She whirled around and the flat of her blade met my palm and I gripped it, calling out to Canaan to bless it in the same way he empowered my mace. A celestial silver light transformed the blade into a _magic weapon_ and exploded from the core of the blade’s steel. I let go.

	The werewolf behind her pounced, tearing into her back with its claws. She twisted around, letting out a cry of wrath.

	“By the power of Canaan!” She evoked. “I _smite_ thee!” 

	Her blade, doubly strengthened by the immortal, holy power of Canaan, bit deep across the werewolf’s throat. Waves of crimson splattered forth. The creature gurgled and clutched what remained of its neck as it soundlessly fell backward. 

	There was a splash behind us. We turned to see both Gabriel and Talon by the riverbank, looking westward at the flailing claws of the last of the werewolves as the current washed it away. 

	Lilian stumbled, clearly weakened from the fight. I took hold of her shoulder to support her. Talon and Gabriel rushed to our side. Talon looked us all over, then turned his eyes to the copse from whence the werewolves emerged. 

	“We need to rest.” He said, winded. “That copse will have to do.”

	We rested in the gloomy, dead surroundings. The ground was rough and dusty, boney branches dangled over us, long dead and leafless. Tangle River’s soft lapping provided a soothing foil to the murkiness.  Sleep soon took me and I did not stir until the sun’s first golden rays broke over the horizon and filtered through the twisted naked branches. 

	I rolled to a stand, still aching from the wounds I took from the werewolves. I found a patch of new day sun and knelt in its warm rays, praying to Canaan. After my meditations left me renewed and restored, I found Lilian, Talon and Gabriel by the river’s edge. They had been waiting for me, having already agreed to a course of action.

	Talon had awoken earlier and scouted ahead. He said the westward river twisted to the south, ending in a pool. He believed we should quickly search the pool for any clues that may lead us to the Witch Tree. If it was clear the pool would yield no immediate help, in which case we agreed we would abandon the search and look elsewhere. 

	As we approached the wide, serene pool, Talon suddenly stopped. At that very moment, music floated down around us. The song was supple and fragile as cottony dandelion seeds on the wind. It was then my eyes beheld the image of a beautiful woman bathing naked in the center of the pool. She turned toward us and I averted my eyes.

	“Hello, my friends. Come closer.” The song beckoned. “I am Corday. I am ever so lonely. Come closer. I know what you seek and can point the way.”  

	Her music caressed and tickled the outer rim of my ears, the nape of my neck, massaging me down to the small of my back. I felt a hand grip my arm and push me back. I opened my eyes, half expecting to see I was in the talons of a harpy who had beguiled me into submission and was preparing to take me to its nest for second breakfast. Instead I saw Talon’s stoic face. He was pushing me away from the pool, out of view of the serenity, out of earshot of that intoxicating song. 

	Beside us, Lilian had taken hold of Gabriel and was doing the same thing to him. As we drew further away from the pool, the hold the music had on me lessoned and soon crumbled. I shook away the remainder of my drunkenness.

	“What was that?” I heard Gabriel ask.

	“A River Nymph.” Talon said. “One of the Fae. She beguiles mortal men to remain at her side with her beauty and her song. Once ensnared, the men become slaves to her, never wishing to leave.”

	“She said she knew what we sought.” I said. “If she knows the way to Gothgul, then we should risk her enchantments.” 

	I could not believe what I was saying. Had this creature’s charms so clouded my judgment and will that I would so easily rush back to her? Luckily, Lilian’s wisdom saved us. 

	“Does her power affect only men?” She asked. Talon raised an eyebrow. 

	“I believe so.” He said with a mordant grin. 

	Moments later, lead by Lilian, we were again at the pool, only this time Gabriel, Talon and myself had stuffed wax in our ears we had scavenged from some candles in my backpack. All sound was completed muted. I could hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing.

	I watched as Corday, this beautiful, if ethereal, spirit of Wiltangle first looked upon us as we returned with a smile, but when only Lilian responded, her smile drifted away like a leaf on the surface of a babbling stream. 

	The river nymph pointed northwards, behind us, and then her finger slid to the right, to the east. Lilian bowed, turned and bid us follow. Once we were clear of the pond, she turned back around, listened to the air a moment and nodded to us.

	The wax dug out of our ears, Lilian told us the river nymph had shown her the way. 

	“Follow me.” She said and without another word, spun back around, drew her sword and marched north. 

	We traveled back along the shore of the river until it turned eastward, taking us back to the shallows and the broken crossing of jagged stones. We crossed it with great care. Talon went first and took an end of my rope with him. He secured it to the far side while I secured it to a tree on our end. Lilian helped her brother across, as the rocks were both sharp and narrow and dangerously slick from a thin sheet of algae that clung to their surface. 

	Given Gabriel’s missing leg, it made a difficult conveyance nearly impossible and after more than a few heart stopping slips, brother and sister managed to make it across. I immediately followed, taking my time with each step to rebalance myself before continuing.

	At last I made it across and we continued on, following Lilian’s silent, determined lead. We broke through a thicket of dried, thorny brambles that gave way to an opened path. The air here was drenched in gloom. Nothing moved. Nothing lived but an oppressive weight that grew with every step I took.

	The sky darkened. Clouds began to gather above us, seemingly trailing us. What little sun shown through the overgrowth was soon completely blocked by a gathering storm. A dreary, whispering voice rode on the wind. 

	“So, you come for us, slaves of Baern’s lies. Too weak and cowardly to face us himself, he calls upon you! Ha! Fools! Slaves! Thieves! Vagabonds! Come for us! We await thee!” 

	The voice continued to torment us as we drew closer to a clearing in the center of a circle of trees just ahead. Wind and rain battered down. We stopped just shy of the clearing’s border. A solitary shadow, vaguely human, paced before a massive tree in the center of the clearing. Even at this distance, even with the growing shadows, I could make out a cruel, feminine face weaved into the bark of the tree’s trunk.

	Over the wind and rain we formulated a plan. 

	Talon would ingest the potion of _invisibility_ given to us by the pixies and sneak in behind the tree with the copper nails. Knowing what I knew of _invisibility_, I warned him he would have to avoid any aggression until he was in place, if he fails in this, the enchantment cloaking him will evaporate and he will instantly become visible. While he positioned himself, the rest of us would distract Gothgul and the Witch Tree with a direct assault.

	“You must be quick.” Lilian warned Talon. “We do not fully understand the extent of the Witch Tree’s power. I fear any delay would spell our doom.” 

	Talon nodded. “I understand.” 

	He drank the potion in one gulp. The magics took hold and he vanished. 

	Lilian led us into the clearing. I bestowed upon her Canaan’s _guidance_ to aid her in fighting off any influence either from the Witch Tree or Gothgul. I did the same for myself and Gabriel. 

	The three of us moved into the clearing. Lightning flashed overhead. Thunderbolts rolled over the deepening darkness. Rain plummeted down in stinging sheets. 

	Gothgul, more beast than man, faced us, placing himself between us and his twisted botanical mistress. He wore a hood over his face. Yellow eyes flickered out from under the hood. 

	“So, at last you come to wrest the guardianship of the grove from me?” He unsheathed a curved blade that seemed to radiate despair from its cold steel. “Very well. But I warn you. Her power is great indeed.” 

	With that, a mighty wind engulfed him. The hood flew back revealing his bestial face covered in black fur. He howled. Lilian answered with a battle cry and rushed him, sword up, ready to strike. 

	A _lightning bolt_ rained down on Gabriel and I, called from the bloated clouds that churned above us. Gabriel and I scattered at the last moment as the bolt slammed into the earth. I felt its numbing, burning strength, but was left only singed. I gave Gabriel a quick look. By all accounts he, too, had successfully evaded a deadlier blow. 

	A vile cackling split the air, breaking through Gothgul’s howls and the winds cries. Lilian, just inches away from striking Gothgul suddenly stopped. Whispers danced around us. 

	“My enemies.” The voice said. “My enemies. They seek to wrest from me what is mine. This I cannot allow.”

	It was the Witch Tree, boring into my consciousness, trying to supplant my will and cloud my judgment. Such power, I thought. Such ancient, primal power. How can I resist it? How can I deny its very right to exist? It is older than time. Who am I to pass sentence on such a god? 

	The final thought broke the enchantment. 

	“You shall not have me, witch!” I cried out, my voice drowned in the wind and thunder. “There is no god but Canaan! Your blasphemy will not go unanswered!” 

	Lilian turned around slowly. Her eyes were distant, lost, drawn within. They focused on Gabriel, who had secured himself under a tree that bordered the clearing. He was quietly muttering to himself, watching his sister’s every move. 

	“Fight it!” I called out to Lilian. “Fight her! Trust in Canaan alone! Do not despair, Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan! Do not listen to her lies!” 

	Thunder rolled, overwhelming my speech. Lilian raised her sword and closed in on her brother.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jun 19, 2006)

Ow! That is seriously not good ... Which is great fun for us of course!!


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## Canaan (Jun 20, 2006)

Things have been a little harsh for the PCs lately.  Gabriel should have died in the battle with the dire wolves, but I felt it helped the story better if his leg was amputated instead.  The PCs were only in Wiltangle to bring Shale back.  It wouldn't be a good story if Gabriel died again and they had to travel all the way back to Soliel on the hope that the Voice and Will would be able to resurrect him again.  

With his leg amputated, Gabriel's player could still play Gabriel.  But it would take a 9th level cleric spell to regrow the leg.  If they wanted, the PCs could quest for this spell.

As it was, I gave them a little break by including a scroll of regeneration in Peas-Blossom's belongings.  Because Evora was only 5th level at this point, there was a significant chancge that he would botch the spell or at least miscast it.  But it gave them some hope.  Turns out, he miscast it.  Ah well.  Gabriel will be one-legged for a little bit longer.....


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## Shieldhaven (Jun 20, 2006)

These poor, poor PCs.  It's a whole lot of kicking them while they're down at this point.  I hope things eventually get better for them, but that's only because it seems like they don't have a lot left to lose.

Haven


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## Canaan (Jun 20, 2006)

Shieldhaven said:
			
		

> These poor, poor PCs.  It's a whole lot of kicking them while they're down at this point.  I hope things eventually get better for them, but that's only because it seems like they don't have a lot left to lose.
> 
> Haven




Heheh, it might seem like that, but many of them remember this session as one of the most fun sessions they had.  They went from 4th level to 6th level during this Wiltangle Forest experience.  That's why it seems so harsh.  They were way underpowered for what they were facing.


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## Shieldhaven (Jun 20, 2006)

Oh, wow.  That's way cool.  I'm glad it came across well in the campaign - I think that a lot of the time, a series of sessions this dark would run the risk of depressing the players as well as the characters. 

Did Aesendal's player drop out of the campaign entirely?  What did Shale's player do during all of this?

Haven


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## Canaan (Jun 20, 2006)

Shieldhaven said:
			
		

> Oh, wow.  That's way cool.  I'm glad it came across well in the campaign - I think that a lot of the time, a series of sessions this dark would run the risk of depressing the players as well as the characters.
> 
> Did Aesendal's player drop out of the campaign entirely?  What did Shale's player do during all of this?
> 
> Haven




Aesendal's player had RL obligations that interfered with his gaming for quite a while.  He makes a return later in the story as Fairlan Akhir, a Shuutian Horse Druid.  He managed to make it to a couple of games, then become overwhelmed with RL stuff and officially stopped playing.  At that same time Hu Li's player stopped playing.  During the time that is currently being written up (Wiltangle Forest), Hu Li's player also couldn't make it to the sessions, so Hu Li went to train with Balian.  He makes a come back shortly after this.

Shale's player also couldn't make it during this time.  It actually took a lot of planning on my part to make this a fluid process that incorporated everyone's RL schedules.


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## Canaan (Jul 7, 2006)

*Chapter 22:  The Green's Answer*

Sorry this update took so long.  D'nemy went on vacation.  He's back now and needs more encouragement!



	Lilian charged her brother, slashing her blade downward. Gabriel’s skills as a brawler served him well, as he deftly feinted to Lilian’s side at the last moment, evading her attack. 

	She spun at him, seething. 

	A venomous, dark howl slashed through the cries of the growing wind as Gothgul raised his hands to the heavens. 

	Filtering through what prayers I had that could aid us, I called out to Canaan to bless us. What little help it would provide might just be what was required. 

	The next moment I questioned that assertion, as a wide bolt of blinding lightning licked down from the clouds, immersing Gabriel in its deadly spike. A deafening thunder bellowed, drowning out his scream as his body convulsed from the deadly force. 

	He crumpled to the ground, his robe smoking and his wooden leg laced with burns. Both Lilian and the Tree crowed with delight.

	“No!” I screamed. “Lilian! Fight it! Fight her!”

	I called out to Canaan to grant me _sanctuary_. An instant later I felt the protective essence of the Almighty gauntleting around me, sequestering me from nearly all aggressions. 

	Another blinding bolt of lightning crashed down to the ground as I raced over to wedge myself between Gabriel and the beguiled Lilian. I felt the horrid, numbing tingling of the lightning’s awesome power, but managed to evade the brunt of its destructiveness. 

	The Witch Tree’s whispers continued to drone on the fringes of my consciousness. 

	“Canaan has no power here.” She kept repeating. “You venture into the realm of the Fae, the abode of the Green. She is older. She is wiser. She is what was before and what shall remain when the Great Thief, the Grand Interloper, is vanquished and lay sleeping along side His brethren in Shuuth.” 

	Lies. All lies. The Witch Tree’s wickedness was boundless. She would dare evoke the purity of the Green to legitimize her decadence? The thought stabbed through the wall of whispers and I felt a sharp hiss, like a recoiling serpent. 

	It was immediately followed by a scream. 

	I was on top of Gabriel. The winds conjured by Gothgul served to impede my movement, but I fought through them, praying to Canaan for His healing grace. My hands vanished under globes of white and I gently laid them on Gabriel’s singed body. 

	I heard another scream in the back of my head. It tore through me like a dagger, smote in the fires of a blacksmith’s hearth. I glanced around to spot Lilian, on her knees, hands to her ears, the wind and thunder drowning out her screams of agony. Gothgul lunged at her. 

	A third scream seemed to split my head in twain. Lilian’s whole countenance twisted in rage and pain. Gothgul, too, wrenched at the shrilling. Then I remembered. The pixie’s boon, the copper nails, now in the hands of the shrouded monk, Talon, who had secreted himself around the back of the Witch Tree to drive the nails into her trunk. The pixies told us the ancient magic trapped in the nails was the only remedy to the Witch Tree’s power. 

	Clearly, Talon had begun. 

	Gabriel’s eyes shot open. He looked up at me and I helped him to his feet.

	“Help Talon.” I told him. “He has started. The Witch Tree’s strength is compromised. Aid him is quickly finishing what he has begun. I will help Lilian vanquish Gothgul.” 

	The wind began to subsist. The lightning strikes grew erratic and weak. 

	Gabriel nodded to me and raced around the back of the Witch Tree, disappearing from my view. 

	Gothgul’s howl broke over the dying wind. Lilian was still kneeling on the muddy ground, her sword on the ground next to her. Gothgul raised his gleaming scimitar and lunged at Lilian, striking her deeply through the shoulder. She let loose a horrible cry of agony. 

	I prayed to Canaan, asking Him to bestow His power unto me to smite His enemy. A blazing celestial sword, wreathed in white fire, appeared above Gothgul’s head. I commanded it to strike down. Caught off guard, Gothgul offered up no defense and the _spiritual weapon_ cut deep into the werewolf’s hide. 

	The Witch Tree let out another wail of pain, but it was faded, weakened. Fear fled me like a rabbit loosed from the jaws of a lion. 

	Lilian rolled onto her feet, her blade in her hand, blood seeping through her armor. She gritted her teeth and girded her strength. 

	“It is over Gothgul.” She said with commanding grace and courage. “Your mistress’s hold on me is gone. Her power weakens. Renounce her and live.”

	“Curse you, paladin!” Gothgul growled. “She is eternal, as is our Union! You are without power here!” 	

	He slashed at Lilian, but she evaded the onslaught. At that moment, a gleam caught my eye. Ensnared in the roots of the Witch Tree was a sickle, its blade made entirely of silver. 

	Lilian returned Gothgul’s attack with a deep cut of her sword. The villain only laughed as the wound she cut closed instantly. 

	The wind subsided entirely. The bloated clouds began to roll back, revealing sapphire, afternoon radiance. 

	Gothgul bayed in rage and slashed at Lilian, his scimitar cutting a shallow trough in the ground beside her. 

	“Lilian!” I called out. “There! The sickle!” 

	Gothgul turned to me, his eyes burning golden embers of wrath. I seized the moment to call upon Canaan to bestow His immortal power into my mace, transforming it into a _magic weapon_ capable of harming this beast. My dancing spiritual weapon whipped about Gothgul’s frame, but the creature managed to evade each blow as he bounded for me, fangs bared in ravenous hatred, begging to be fed. 

	I ended my prayer and the head of my mace glimmered with divine enchantment. I glimpsed Lilian racing for the foot of the Witch Tree and the silver sickle. 

	Gothgul’s scimitar slashed at me, but my mace met the blow with a great clang. His strength was immense, but I was girded by Canaan’s might and held my stance. 

	“You shall make an ample meal for me, priest!” Gothgul growled. “I shall begin with your throat and end with your heart!” 

	The flaming sword of Canaan slashed down at Gothgul one more time, cutting into his hide. The werewolf howled with pain. 

	The spell was spent and the spiritual weapon vanished. 

	I slammed my mace downward, aiming for the beast’s head, but he stepped cleanly aside from my clumsy offensive and was spared more pain. 

	But the distraction worked. Lilian took up the silver sickle and without a word raced over to our melee. 

	“Sacrilege!” Gothgul growled as he turned to face Lilian. She ignored his rebuke and struck. The sickles blade bit deep. Gothgul reeled backward, sprouting smoking blood that sizzled when it struck the ground like heated metal when it plunges into water. 

	Gothgul swallowed down all pain and slashed madly at Lilian. I came around to the opposite side of the melee, allowing the Champion to flank the fallen druid. 

	“You are beaten.” She said to him. “Surrender, or perish.” 

	“Yuindr will have you, heathen!” Was his answer as he took hold of his scimitar with both hands and leapt at her. 

	Lilian twisted clear of the attack and slashed upwards with the sickle. It met Gothgul’s throat. 

	The werewolf landed on the ground in a bent, twitching heap as blood pooled out around his beaten corpse, fed from the gash in his neck. 

	Gabriel and Talon came about from behind the Witch Tree, now grayed with rot and decay. The wicked face in the trunk’s bark had flaked off, revealing countless maggot infested fissures that bubbled out unspeakably foul juices. 

	“It is done.” Talon said with solemnity. 

	“No.” Said Lilian, looking on at the sickle in her grasp. “We also need to find the golden cauldron.” 

	Gothgul’s lycanthropic mien had faded away, revealing the man he once was, naked but for a cloak. His flesh was sallow and yellowed. His muscles had atrophied nearly to the bone, proving that his strength was bestowed by a wickedness that had poisoned as it bolstered. 

	The barter, in the end, proved fatal. 

	Gabriel healed his sister’s wounds, and we searched the whole of the Witch Tree’s glade but found no trace of any cauldron. 

	“We should consult Corday.” Talon suggested after the exhausted search. “Perhaps she knows of the cauldron’s location.” 

	We all agreed. 

	We left the clearing and headed west, back toward the nymph’s secluded pool. When we grew close, we stopped and Talon lit another candle until it melted enough wax to sufficiently fill his, Gabriel’s and my ears from Corday’s beguiling music. Knowing only Lilian would be unaffected by the Fae’s magic, she would once again be our spokesperson. 

	We approached the pool to once again see the beauty blissfully bathing in the center of it. When she spotted us her contented demeanor melted into annoyance. After a brief conversation, Lilian turned to the rest of us, and with a nod led us back west. When we were safely away, we removed the wax from our ears.

	“There is a clump of mounds just to the east.” Lilian told us. “Within one of them is a cave that the werewolves call home.  She believes the cauldron might be hidden there.” 

	Following Corday’s directions we soon came upon the mounds. Though my prayers were all but exhausted, Lilian had the silver sickle and Talon, for the time, took up Yuindr, Gothgul’s scimitar. We agreed we needed to act quickly and had not the luxury of time to rest. 

	Immediately upon spotting the cave in one of the mounds, two werewolves, all that was left of Gothgul’s paltry army, leapt from the shadowed opening and attacked in a blind rage. 

	Lilian and Talon made quick work of them with the sickle and scimitar. Before Gabriel or I could react, the werewolves were slain.

	Within the cave, tucked into a pile of other stolen treasures, we discovered the golden cauldron. It was amazingly light, despite its size. Clearly this artifact was infused, like the silver sickle and the copper nails that felled the Witch Tree, with a power of the Green far more ancient than I could imagine. 

	Talon burdened himself with the care of the cauldron as the rest of us carried off what we could of the werewolves’ cache. 

	The day’s light began to fade as night’s embrace took hold. Exhausted as we were, we hurried back to Master Baern’s sanctuary to the north. When we arrived, he met us with a wide and relieved grin. 

	“The silver sickle!” He exclaimed. “And the golden cauldron! You have done it! Life will once again return to the Wiltangle Forest. And you have Yuindr! Thank the Green! Thank Canaan! We are saved!” 

	Baern said no more. Eschewing our attempts to assist him with terse waves of his hands, Lilian, Talon, Gabriel and myself simply watched in wonder as Baern set Shale’s corpse in the center of the grove and using the sickle and cauldron began a intense ceremony filled with chanting, the burning of pleasing, if pungent herbs, dancing and deep trances. 

	After nearly an hour, Shale’s beaten corpse began to sink into the earth. The grass enveloped him until nothing remained but a verdant, gleaming quilt that shimmered in the moonlight. 

	Baern, layered in sweat, and greatly weakened from the ceremony’s effort, opened his eyes and smiled at us.

	“It is done.” He whispered.

	A minute or two passed.  We looked at each other with puzzled expressions, while Baern sat serenely with his eyes closed.

	I finally got up the courage to ask, “so, did it work?” I asked.

	Baern’s eyes remained closed.  “yes. It did.”

	Confused, I decided to risk inquiring further, looking around I asked, “where is he?”

	Baern opened his eyes then.  “The Green must decide what form his soul will take on his return.  He must then find his way back here.  It could take some time.”

	We decided to pass the time with a meal.  In its midst, there was a stirring in the woods around us. Wind, warm and inviting filled the sanctuary. Subtle odors, like that of a spring dawn after a night of cool rains, danced on the back of the wind.

	Then out of the shadow of a tree came a tall, gaunt figure. It was entirely encased in what appeared to be scales, but as it moved closer, the scales revealed themselves to be leaves. The face, too, was covered in leaves. 

	It bore no resemblance to anyone or anything I had ever seen before. What was this creature? An avatar? A herald? 

	Talon suddenly gasped. We all turned to him, startled by his anomalous display of emotion. 

	“Shale?” The ascetic asked the creature. 

	It turned to him and its eyes narrowed, as if seriously considering the merits of the inquiry. Then its gaze swept over us, eyes glowing with a deep, almost blackened, green. It nodded saying…

	“Hunter, destroyer, and keeper of ancient knowledge; I am Her answer to the rising power of man and fiend.  Shale is no more.  I am Shallahai of The Green.”


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jul 7, 2006)

Another excellent update. Thank you to both Canaan and D'nemy.   

Certainly looks like the fight with Gothgul and the Witch Tree was a bit touch and go. But it makes for a great tale - Talon driving in the copper nails at just the right moment!!

And I'm assuming we'll find out a bit more about just what Shale has become next time ... I must admit I'm at a bit of a loss from the description so far - wood element template? half shambling mound?   

Keep up the good work.


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## D'nemy (Jul 8, 2006)

HOHB -

Yeah, concerning Shale/Shallahai....

Uh, to this day none of us players, even the one playing Shallahai, are 100% sure what the heck he is.

We're going with a half-avatar fae (??) and leaving it at that. When we ask Shallahai in game... he gets touchy, so we drop it and pour some water on his feet. He seems to like that.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jul 10, 2006)

D'nemy said:
			
		

> HOHB -
> 
> Yeah, concerning Shale/Shallahai....
> 
> ...




Half house-plant?


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## Canaan (Jul 11, 2006)

Heheh, Shallahai's player knows what Shallahai is (He's just really good at keeping it quiet).  But since it doesn't matter from game perspective that any of the players know what Shallahai is, Ill reveal it.  He's a Killorean from Races of the Wild.  He's the only one in existence for all he knows.  The story of his transformation will be in the next post.  

And Hu Li will be making a return appearance shortly.  <the crowd goes crazy>

Cheers,

Tirlanolir


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## iStrider (Jul 11, 2006)

Yay Shallahai’s transformation!  I like the story of the transformation a lot… but I may be a bit bias.


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## Canaan (Jul 26, 2006)

*Chapter 23:  Shallahai's Vision*

Sorry this took so long.  D'nemy's had a busy Summer.  I'm going to make these updates a bit more frequent.

*****

	This strange, unique and unquestionably powerful figure stood before us. His eyes fell on Talon and he nodded. Talon returned the greeting. 

	When the reborn, reincarnated Shale’s eyes fell on Lilian, Gabriel and me, they narrowed with impudence and his lips pulled back into a sneer, as if he saw in us a bitter enemy of which he could barely stand the sight. I turned to Lilian and saw she was looking over to her brother, just as perplexed. Gabriel looked away, shaking his head, his face growing purple with a growing resentment. 

	“Shallahai?” I cautiously began. “Why do you greet us with such enmity? We have sacrificed much to bring you into being. Gabriel lost his leg to a pack of wolves. I nearly drowned under the currents of the rushing Tangle River. Lilian’s will was almost subjugated by the whispers of the Witch Tree. Forgive me if I seem impudent, but…”

	Shallahai raised a hand and I cut my retort short. 

	“Evora.” He began. “You are a Canaanite. Do you really know what that means? Do you know who you serve?”

	He did not give me a moment to respond as his eyes glazed over and he began his story. 

	“First there was darkness. I felt the passage of time. A slight breeze blew a leaf across my face, bringing with it the humid scent of Summer.  A cacophony, dizzying and overwhelming, sharpened in my ears, resolving into the gentle sounds of a forest in the late afternoon; birds singing and insects at industry.  I opened my eyes.  A green blur focused into a sunlit canopy of trees.  My back was cool and I realized I was lying on the cool ground, naked.  Glancing at my body, I could see it was badly broken and caked with blood which mingled with mud, dirt and soot.  The memory of the recent past descended on me like a bolt of lightning, knocking the breath from my lungs.  I gasped for air.  

I thought. ‘What has become of my friends? What has become of me?’

The last thing I remembered was Lilian getting cruelly cut down by the Dark Knight and the wicked black blade he called, Murder.  Murder; the name was somehow familiar to me.  I had heard, or perhaps read, of a wicked blade named, Murder.  But I could recall no more about it.  Then, I heard Hu Li’s concussive explosion.  That was the last thing I heard before darkness took me.

Gathering my mind to the present, I gingerly sat up, tensing for the inevitable pain.  But none came.  Confused, I stood up and examined my wounds.  The wounds were clearly fatal, yet there was no pain.  My skin prickled with the beginning of fear.

Just then, the ground shook and a great rumbling sound began from my left.  Ethereal at first, I thought it was Her.  But I inexplicably and immediately realized it was very real and it was not Her.  It was too unnatural.  I began to turn my head to the left, intent on determining the cause of the rumbling, when I was struck with a vision so strong it knocked me off of my feet.  In a green haze I saw thousands on thousands of mounted horses.  

An army.

Holy Men lead armored templars, knights and guardsmen through the forest.  Pages and standard bearers wielded glorious standards depicting the symbols holy to Canaan.  A nimbus of blinding white light surrounded the army, pushing back the green haze of my vision.  The army rode swiftly.  I felt bruised as the horses’ hooves bit into the ground and my skin stung as the steel of man-made weapons slashed through low hanging tree limbs. 

I slowed my breathing as I acclimated myself to the vision, which came in snippets of time.  The army came to a tiny village in a forest glen.  Its people did what they could to provide the army with water and provisions.  The priests of Canaan demanded it of them.  But the priests wanted more than the village could provide.  A druid met with the priests to negotiate passage and was met with swords. He was burned for heresy.  The Green’s holy symbols in the village were destroyed, and the people made to convert or burn.  Leaving desolation, the army moved on. 

I was overcome with rage.  How dare He?

My vision blurred through time and space, racing past the forest at the speed of sunlight coming over the mountains in the morning.  It stopped in the heart of The Wildlands.  A colossal mausoleum; massive graves and lesser crypts marked the perimeter and two large green statues marked its entrance.  As I looked closely, something black seeped out of the top of the door to the mausoleum.  It was sinister.  It pulsed, as if alive, tendrils snaking forward to find new purchase.  I recoiled from it, as I saw it oozing down into the ground.  

Something took hold of me and I was lost in the grip of a seizure. 

The putrid inky blackness seeped further into the ground and the life of the earth withered and died at the spot.  The pain was too much.  I collapsed on the ground writhing; it was as though I was drowning in acid, my body melting.  My stomach was in constant spasms.  Retching, I was overcome with the feeling of hatred and revilement.  Nothing so foul as this can exist.  But the physical pain was not the worst of it.  I could feel the black tendrils in my mind, feeding off of my sanity.  I could not escape it.  It was anathema to all life! 

Then, my vision pulled back, and my pain subsided.  The vision extended into the earth and I beheld the source of the putrid blackness, the wellspring from where it bore through the surface to infect the forest around it.  The source was a massive maw, and I could feel its teeth grinding into me, into the earth, into Her!  

Deep under this mausoleum in the heart of The Wildlands is a place so dark, so vile, so tainted; it is indescribable. It is a doorway to Hell itself.  

I saw Canaan’s holy army burst into the clearing and storm the mausoleum.  A titanic battle ensued.  

The vision faded from blur of blood and death to a rushing scene of maybe five, maybe six, blood covered holy warriors running away, out of the forest, their faces twisted with insane panic. 

  I sensed that they were all that was left of Canaan’s mighty army.

The Green.  She was.  She is.  She always will be.  She is the unstoppable juggernaut.  Complacent with her creation and the cycles she created for it, she slept for eons in the hidden parts of the world.  Now, She stirs.  

A voice, both masculine and feminine, thick and grinding, slow and measured spoke.  Whether or not it was to me, I was uncertain.

“I tire of their interference!” She said.  Then She commanded me:

“Evolve!”

* * * *

	“Detestable!” I muttered and glanced at Lilian. I could see by her crest fallen posture that she too was sickened by what Shale had told us. 

	“Those men.” I said to no one in particular. “Those soldiers and priests, justicars and inquisitors, all fools! All hypocrites! Blinded by their arrogance, fear and thirst for glory! Canaan does not persecute! Nor does he reward such hubris!”

	“Agreed.” Lilian seconded. Her voice startled me at first, lost as I was in my own growing ire. “Their actions better served the will of the Adversary than of Canaan! If history teaches us anything…”

	“It is beginning again.” Talon said with a sigh. “The signs are all around us. The black clouds of war gather on the horizon. Kharas Voor’hees. The Orcus cultists. A new Voice and Will. We are witness to a great upheaval, and it seems, at least in terms of the Green, that She has provided Turgos with a new, powerful ally.”

	We all turned to Shallahai, taking in his entirely alien appearance.

	I shuddered. Such powerful portents and unsettling omens have I witnessed up to this date. Balian’s mark squirmed in my forehead as I looked back and tried to put everything that had happened up to this point into perspective. 

	Veshra and the Succubus roaming free on Turgos. The mad boars. The goblins. Balian and Helena. Kharas Voor’hees. Orcus, the Cultists and the attack on Goldfire Glen. Tanner and the Voice and Will. Lilian and Gabriel’s miraculous resurrections. Tagavarious and my trial before the Curia. The humanoid invasion of Brightstone Keep.  The Witch Tree and its curse on Wiltangle.

	All of these strange and ominous occurrences in such rapid succession and over such a short period of time. I had barely a moment to catch my breath, let alone dedicate enough thought to begin piecing any of this together. 

	One thing was certain, we were standing on the precipice of history. Though its outcome was unclear and our roles in the events, if any, uncertain, we were conscripted to be more than mere witnesses to what lay ahead.

	That evening it was decided that first we would travel to Auros and warn Duke Devonhilt of the threat at Brightstone Keep.  Then, we would seek answers, perhaps from Balian. 

	Before reclining to sleep, I prayed to Canaan. I asked of Him how such evils could be perpetrated in His name by His Followers. I was granted no answer, but the vision of those few remaining soldiers, racing madly from the maw of Rappan Athuk blinked into my consciousness. 

	“Yes.” I thought. “Blind faith’s only boon is blindness.” 

	With that, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

* * * *

The following morning, Baern presented Shallahai with Yuindr, the silver sickle.  

“This blade is Yuindr.  Gothgul misappropriated it from its hallowed sanctuary under our Order's protection when he was under the Witchtree's influence.  It is not mine.  It is not yours.  It is Hers.  She has marked you, so you shall wield it.  Be warned.  It contains a part of Her passionate essence.  Yuindr despises fiends.  If you encounter one while you wield Yuindr, you may succumb to its desire to purge The Green of the taint the fiend represents.  In that case, your will may not be your own.  And you could be in great peril.”  Baern looked at Shallahai solemnly.

  “If it is Her will that I wield this weapon, I will accept that burden.”  Shallahai responded, taking the blade.

After breakfast, we rode to Auros.


----------



## Shieldhaven (Jul 26, 2006)

The parallels with Sep's Tales of Wyre deepen.   I'm interested in Shallahai's new perspective, but this could make things even more tense for our poor narrator.

Yay, update!

Haven


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## Canaan (Jul 30, 2006)

*Chapter 24:  Brightstone Keep*

Thanks Haven!  The characters are all coming into their own at this point.  But there's more PC smackdown on the horizon for our poor heroes!

*****

	From my first meeting with Duke Devonhilt I had no doubts he was good man.  He has the best interests of his people at heart and wears the mantle of Duke as a facade to appease the nobility.  Adept with both commoner and aristocrat, Devonhilt has many allies and holds great sway over a vast area. 

	"I must admit that I am at a loss for words to express how overwhelmed I am at the mere thought of how miraculous this event truly is."  The Duke quietly spoke after a long pause.

	Lilian, Gabriel, Talon and myself had told him of the story of Shale's return and metamorphosis into Shallahai. Shallahai had remained silent throughout the tale. 

	"And your vision," He continued, looking at Shallahai, "I fear it is a vision of the past bound to repeat itself."

	Talon nodded his head.  "We thought as much."

	"Malfoy is raising an army as we speak.  He has sent out notices and has called for every soldier in the realm to report to Soliel for training.  He intends to claim the Wildlands."  The Duke announced.

	"For what purpose?" I inquired, puzzled and worried.

	"Why not?" The Duke responded. "The events at Goldfire Glen involving the goblins and the Orcus cultists gave him just the excuse he needed to raise such an army.  Of course his stated purpose is to remove the threat of the humanoids in the Wildlands.  But what he really wants is to obtain more land for the Kingdom of Turgos.  And no doubt the Curia is supporting this decision, because what it really wants is to purge the “pagans” from the Wildlands and spread Canaanism to all."  The Duke's voice got a little louder as he spoke of these things.  It was obvious that he did not agree with Malfoy's motives.

	"But more importantly, the Curia wants to purge Turgos of Orcus's influence at Rappan'Athuk and it knows that another assault like the one in Shallahai's vision, the one that happened 15 years ago, would be terribly unpopular."  The Duke's disgust was apparent.

	"Both his supporters--the landed elite--and the Curia want Malfoy to invade the Wildlands.  Acceding to their wishes would make Malfoy extremely popular with these two powerful and influential groups.  Malfoy knows that he governs Turgos only until the King is of suitable age to reign.  Malfoy seeks to horde influence so that he will remain a powerful man after King Reynard the Younger takes control of the throne.  That, my friends, is why Malfoy is raising an army to invade the Wildlands."  Devonhilt finished his passionate rant against the nobility and church of Turgos matter-of-factly.

	Talon and I had heard some of this before when we were in Auros on our way to Soliel to request Lilian be returned to us.  The others were stunned.  

	"Malfoy will not succeed." Shallahai sneered.

	"It takes much more than anger and conviction to stop an army, 
Shallahai." Talon calmly replied.  

	I agreed with both of them.

	"What can be done?" I asked the Duke.

	"Little more than delay, I’m afraid.  Perhaps with enough delay the fervor will die down, the events in Goldfire Glen will be forgotten or maybe something else will happen that will catch the kingdom's attention." The Duke offered.

	A deep voice spoke from behind us as we heard the sound of soft leather boots padding across the chamber floor and a quiet swish of a robe following each step.

	"Kharas'Vhoories."  

	We turned to look at the source of the voice.

	It was Allustan.

“Kharas’Vhoories will provide the distraction.” The mage said with great authority. “It _was_ what this Veshra was trying to do, was it not?  Bring back Kharas’Vhoories?  And she is still free.  It is only logical that she will continue to attempt to bring her master back into Turgos until she is permanently stopped.”  

Allustan came around the table and stopped at the Duke.  Devonhilt clapped Allustan on the arm and smiled.

“Have a seat.” He motioned to the empty chair beside him.  “Everyone, this is Allustan of Diamond Lake, an Arcanist of some reknown, and one of my trusted advisors.  Allustan, this is everyone.”  The Duke waved his hand across the table indicated to we assembled there.

“Oh yes.  I know of this bunch.”  The Arcanist smiled politely nodding to us as he took his seat at the table.

“Surely you don’t suggest that Kharas’Vhoories will return, do you?” I asked.

“Well it does at this time seem to be the most likely candidate.  But I speak only of possibilities, Priest of Canaan.  I have no greater knowledge on the subject than you.” Allustan responded.

But I sensed that he was indeed holding something back, and I sensed fear.  I decided to let it go and change the subject.

“Well, I think delay is a good option.  Perhaps, this fervor will die down in the coming months.”  I said, ending the matter.

“Lord, we came here to Auros to warn you of a humanoid invasion of Brightstone Keep but a week’s journey from Auros on the edge of the Wildlands.”  I continued.

Allustan raised an eyebrow.

“Brightstone Keep” the Duke mused.  “I know it well.  It guarded the old silver mines in the hillside out there in years past.  In recent times, we’ve maintained only a small unit of warriors at Brightstone.  The silver mines were abandoned decades ago.”  He continued.

“Well your warriors have likely been killed, my Lord.”  I continued.

“I can’t spare any warriors.  With Malfoy’s orders, I’ve had to disperse most of my standing army, sending them to their homes to avoid conscription.”  The Duke was clearly distraught.

“Perhaps, My Lord, you could offer The Heroes of Goldfire Glen something in exchange for purging Brightstone Keep.”  Allustan advised Devonhilt.

“Yes, but the keep would need to be manned, Allustan.”  The Duke protested.

“And the Heroes seem to be well-equipped to handle such a task.”  Allustan countered.

“You’re right, Allustan.  That’s an excellent idea.”  The Duke turned to Lilian.

“Lady Lilian, if you and your friends would investigate the trouble at Brightstone Keep, purge it of the humanoids infesting it, return any captives to their homes and man the Keep, I will deed Brightstone Keep to you.” The Duke proclaimed.

We were speechless.

After a moment, Lilian responded.  “I accept this task and its associated boon, provided it does not interfere with my calling.” 

“Spoken like a true champion.” The Duke smiled.  “Good.  I think that solves this most recent crisis.  Report back to me your progress.”

“There is one other matter about which I wish to speak with the Heroes of Goldfire Glen.”  Allustan added.  “Last time you were here,” He looked to me and Talon, “I mentioned that I had a task for you.  Do you remember?”  Allustan asked.

“Yes.” I said.  Talon nodded.

“Good.  As you know I am an Arcanist.  My special interest lies in the eternal struggle between Law and Chaos and an ancient civilization known as the Wind Dukes of Aaqa.  I believe a tomb of one of the greatest Wind Duke generals exists near Brightstone Keep.  While my interest in such a find is without words to describe, I fear that others have an interest in it as well.  I would task you to search the environs of Brightstone Keep for the tomb of this general and bring back any artifacts you find within it before others find it.”  Allustan concluded.

I must admit that learning of an ancient civilization was intriguing, but measured against the importance of recent events, this seemed unimportant.

“Please forgive my ignorance, Allustan.  But such a task seems, while having great potential to advance scholarly pursuits, quite low in priority.”  I risked angering the Arcanist.

“It would.”  Allustan responded.  “But you must trust me on this.  I have a hunch that needs to be confirmed.  A hunch that could impact recent events or our response to them.”  He finished.

“We will do what we can, Allustan.”  Lilian responded for the rest of us.

We continued talking into the evening and retired for bed later that night.  The Duke promised to have his High Priest, Shammas MacTinder, look at Gabriel’s leg in the morning to see whether he could do anything for it.  We said our goodnights.

In the morning, Bishop MacTinder looked at Gabriel’s leg.

“No. Sorry, my son.  Only an Archbishop or the Voice and Will can do anything for that.”  He responded, his fat red checks and red nose bunched up in a smile.

After our visit with MacTinder, we provisioned up and rode to Brightstone Keep.  The journey was uneventful.  But when we arrived, we learned just how overrun the Keep had become.

* * * *

Years ago, Brightstone Keep was used as a guard post for the Silver Mines that began just inside the hillside outside of which Brightstone Keep stood on a small precipice up a steep cliff from the land below.  Its five guard towers and thick stone walls complete with crenellated battlements proved a formidable defense against would-be bandits.  A long steep and narrow stone incline provided the only access from the surface below the cliff walls supporting the Keep to the precipice on which the Keep stood, allowing archers manning the battlements to fire several rounds of arrows at an invading humanoid or bandit army before such foes could even approach the Keep itself.

The precipice ended at another cliff wall that rose another one hundred feet to an additional precipice and above that was only the steep sides of hills and low mountains, perhaps negotiable for a well-trained scout, but impassable for a large army.  Situated thusly, Brightstone Keep was in a very defensible position.

Several decades ago, the Silver Mines were abandoned.  Rumor had it that they had become haunted.  An eerie voice could be heard on an ethereal wind running through the mines.  Miners started to disappear.  That’s when Duke Devonhilt ordered that the mines be closed and only a token force be left to man the battlements at Brightstone Keep.

* * * *

Lucky for us, Orcs sleep during the day, for it was daytime when we climbed the narrow incline to Brightstone Keep’s precipice.  Talon scouted ahead and reported back to us.

“It looks like some humanoids are walking along the battlements.  Very few, perhaps three of them.  They don’t appear to be paying any heed to the approach way.  And several huge holes have been made in the walls themselves.” He reported.

Talon indicated that we should follow him.  When we arrived at the top of the precipice, Talon indicated to the open portcullis about 10 yards away that provided ingress to and egress from the central courtyard of Brightstone Keep.  It was closed.

We approached warily, not wanting to attract the attention of the lax Orcs on patrol.  

Lilian arrived first and noticing a winch inside the portcullis next to a sleeping Orc, she indicated to it and motioned for the rest of us to stop.  Shallahai put his hand on her shoulder and, through a series of gestures, indicated to the others to ready their ranged weapons to attack the Orc on his command.

Stepping up to the portcullis, He spoke in a soft, verdant voice:

_Undeniable, unyielding stone, I beseech thee
Release your eternal hold
Run like your sister, in rivulets and gorges
Around these iron bars now mold._​
At that moment, the air became much brighter and the stone began to seep around the metal bars, releasing the portcullis from its moorings.  It began to fall forward toward Shallahai, making a terrible screeching noise.

Gabriel rushed up and kept the portcullis from falling to the ground by holding it above his head.  

The Orc stirred.  Just then, shouts rang out from above us on the battlements.  So much for stealth.

Lilian engaged the awakened Orc as he stood, cutting it down.  She entered the tunnel that lead to the courtyard.

Javelins rained down on us, but at this angle, the Orcs couldn’t manage to score a hit.  I called on the power of Canaan to _bless_ us in this battle.

Gabriel threw down the portcullis and together with Talon, began throwing the javelins back at the Orcs.

The air around Shallahai thickened as he intoned a spell:  

_Root in earth,
give skin girth,
nature’s mark,
thick as bark!_​
The druid’s skin turned brown and appeared to thicken into a bark-like substance.

As Lilian entered the courtyard, five Orcs entered the tunnel through a side door.  They engaged Talon and I, blocking off Lilian from the rest of us.

That’s when Lilian called for help.  “Giants!”  She called out.

Gabriel stopped throwing javelins at the Orcs and ran down the length of the keep’s wall to an area of crumbled stone where the wall had been breached.  I followed quickly after as did Shallahai.  Talon continued to the battle the Orcs harrowing him in the tunnel leading to the courtyard.

On climbing through the breach, I saw what Lilian had referred to as giants.  They were humanoids, perhaps nine or ten feet tall with green thick skin and long, carrot-like noses, with black claws and hunched backs.  There were two of them.  Each wore a ring and wielded a giant spiked club.

Just as I saw them, one of them hit Lilian square in the chest with its giant club.  It made a crunching sound as it impacted with Lilian’s armor.  She was clearly injured.  As the creature dislodged its club from Lilian’s armor, blood spurted out of the holes it had made in her armor.

Gabriel engaged the other creature.  As he closed, using its superior reach, the creature slammed its club into Gabriel’s side, injuring him badly.

I prayed to Canaan to grant me a weapon with which to fight these foes.  Canaan’s holy blade appeared next to the creature harrying Lilian; it was a longsword, a _spiritual weapon_ sheathed in white fire.  The blade bit deep into the creature, distracting it while Lilian called for aid.

“Damian!  Come to my aid!” She called out.

Shallahai whispered:

_“Gift of Nature
burning bright,
ball of flame,
elemental might!”_​
And a small ball of flame appeared in his hand.  He threw it at the creature attacking Lilian.  His aim was true, but the fire did not appear to harm the creature.

Gabriel managed to punch the other creature several times to little effect, trying to merely get its attention so it stayed away from his sister.

Damian arrived, erupting out of a circle of golden light that flashed to the right of Canaan’s Champion.  Lilian mounted him and rode off toward the tunnel.  The creature attacking the paladin swiped at her and missed.  As she rode away, the creature lumbered after her.

Canaan’s _spiritual weapon_ continued to slash at the giant creature.

Back in the tunnel, Talon was having some success at besting the Orcs, but his progress was slow.

Shallahai focused his concentration and cawed, seeming to call out to something.

Gabriel was taking a brutal beating from the other creature, while the remaining Orcs on the battlements continued to barrage us with javelins, albeit ineffectively.

Gabriel was in bad shape.  I called on Canaan to grant me _sanctuary_ as I ran out to Gabriel in hopes of aiding him.

Seconds later, answering Shallahai’s call, three giant eagles soared in the sky above the creature attacking Gabriel and began to dive at it.

I heard a low hum coming from Shallahai over by the breach in the wall.  He was calling more of nature’s creatures to aid us.

The creature chasing Lilian could not fit into the tunnel, but Lilian and Damien were free to attack it from inside the tunnel.

“Canaan, grant me your shield!” Lilian called out, while Damien pummeled the creature with its hooves and bite.  And Canaan’s _spiritual weapon_ bit deep into its back.  A white glow pulsed in front of Canaan’s champion in the form of a _divine shield_ and faded into her, bolstering her defense against her massive foe.

Gabriel swung at the other creature and missed as it swung again at Gabriel, connecting with its giant spiked club.  Just as I arrived at Gabriel’s side, he collapsed, unconscious.

That’s when the thoqqua arrived, called by Shallahai, to waylay the beast.  I used the opportunity created by the joint attacks of the giant eagles and the thoqqua to heal Gabriel with Canaan’s grace.

The brawler-turned-priest’s eyes opened and he got up as the thoqqua bull rushed the creature into the giant eagles’ attack path.  The eagles raked the creature to little effect.  But this tactic gave Gabriel and I time to get up.

Seeing us, the giant again swung out at Gabriel, again knocking him out.

Just then, Lilian, Damien and Canaan’s _spiritual weapon_ managed to fell the other creature and Talon managed to finish the Orcs that had been blocking the entrance into the tunnel from outside the keep.

Lilian rode Damien over the fallen creature into the courtyard to engage the other giant, when I saw the unconscious creature stir and begin to rise, its wounds closing fast.  

“Look out, Lilian!” I yelled.

But it was too late.  Lilian turned just as the creature took a swing at her with its club, badly wounding her.  She spurred Damien on toward us in the center of the courtyard.

“We must flee!” She yelled.  “Place Gabriel on Damien!”  She galloped in front us, putting her and Damien between us and the creature that had been attacking us.  The other creature was lumbering over toward us.

But Talon was right behind it, kicking and punching it with all of his martial skills.  Talon’s tactic worked.  The creature was distracted and focused on Talon.  The monk’s intense studying of martial techniques made it quite difficult for the lumbering giant humanoid to land a blow on him.

I managed to get Gabriel up on Damien’s saddle as Lilian, the giant eagles and the thoqqua continued to attack the other creature.

“Go Now! Retreat!” Lilian commanded me as she took another hit from the creature she was protecting me from.

I ran.

Lilian called on Canaan’s healing grace to heal her wounds and spurred Damien on.  

Shallahai had already run out of the courtyard back through the breach.

Lilian grabbed me as Damien galloped by and jumped the breach, with Gabriel’s unconscious form on his back.

We escaped at top speed, running until we were exhausted.

Some time later when we were able to rest I healed Gabriel’s wounds and we spoke about our harried encounter.  

“What were those creatures?” Lilian asked to nobody in particular.

“I do not know.”  Shallahai responded.  “But they were not giants.  They were clearly humanoids of some sort.”

“We need help.” I said.  I didn’t want to say what I was thinking.  I suppose I just didn’t want to believe it.  But I had no choice.

“We need Hu Li.”  I couldn’t believe I said it.

The others nodded, in silent, if reluctant agreement.  Talon merely looked at me.

“Perhaps Balian can tell us what those creatures are so we can better prepare ourselves against them.”  Lilian added.

“I think they are immune to fire.” Shallahai added.

That evening I prayed to Canaan that I had suggested the wise course of action.  Hu Li is as dangerous as he is helpful.  And I still hadn’t forgiven him for what he did to the others in Harpy Ruins.

In the morning, we traveled to Balian’s tower to obtain information and collect Hu Li.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Aug 1, 2006)

Cracking stuff, as ever, guys. Loving every word of this storyhour.

And I look forward to seeing what more havoc can be wrought by the return of Hu Li ...


----------



## Canaan (Aug 3, 2006)

*Chapter 25:  Brightstone Keep, Redux*

Thanks for the continued support Biscuit.  And wait NO longer for Hu Li antics!!!

**********

The ducks at Balian’s tower were more ornery than the last time we were there.  One of them waddled right up to Talon and bit him in the side.  Luckily there was no impediment to entrance, minimizing our exposure to the angry birds.  The drawbridge was down.  Hu Li stood at the other side, grinning broadly.

I recalled in that moment just how much I loathed that supercilious smile. 

“Foul creatures, aren’t they.” He said as we crossed the drawbridge and approached him. I could not discern from his inflection whether his statement was insult, compliment, joke or merely an observation. 

“Lilian!” Hu Li continued, his arms suddenly up and outstretched. “The most comely female specimen in the entire Kingdom!  Hello, my dear.  It has been too long!”  

Hu Li’s toothy grin grew as he prepared to hug the approaching champion. 

In a fashion most appropriate, Lilian greeted the ostentatious Hu Li.  “It has been too long for good friends to be apart.” She politely said, allowing herself to be embraced by the wizard.

In the middle of their embrace, Hu Li smugly glanced over Lilian’s shoulder to the rest of us, then his face suddenly twisted with repulsion.

“Gah!” He recoiled. “What in the bowels of the Eyeless Hollow Ones is THAT!” He nearly screamed, pointing right at Shallahai.

Expressionless, Shallahai advanced on the wizard until he was nearly on top of him.  “You are a waste of water, Jordan!” Shallahai suddenly seethed, eyes glowing white.

“That’s the Acolyte Hu Li!” Hu Li retorted with somewhat less forcefulness than usual as the wizard recoiled in fear from the menacing druid.

Shallahai had never spoken to us about his feelings on Hu Li after the incident with the bead of force.  Clearly, Shale had not forgiven the wizard for the foolishness that cost him his life, and those emotions still lingered. 

Hu Li looked around at the rest of us, then back to Shallahai.  “Shale?” He asked, an octave too high.

“Shale is no more, because of you, fool!  I am Shallahai.  I am Her answer to the wicked deeds of man and fiend.  And you will find me much less tolerant of your idiocy than was Shale.”  Shallahai answered.

Hu Li shrank back a little, but he was clearly puzzled.

I put a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Shallahai is Shale reincarnated by the power of The Green through Master Baern of the Wiltangle Forest.” 

“Oh.”  Hu Li responded.  Then he looked at my hand on his shoulder with disgust.  “You’re touching me again, priest.” He said in an irritated voice.

Praying to Canaan for patience, I lifted my hand from the wizard’s shoulder, resisted the urge to cup it into a fist and allowed it to fall at my side.

Gabriel, however, succumbing to his old ill temper, struck Hu Li clean in the face. 

“Ow!”  Hu Li cradled his bleeding nose.  “What in the Hells was that for?” He whined.

“Oh please, Jordan!  Don’t feign ignorance.  Aesendal is dead.  Shale died.  We nearly died trying to return Shale to us.  We return and you greet us as though nothing happened?  You make jokes and smug remarks without ever once saying, ‘I’m sorry?!’  While you were here comfortable in your tower with your insane master, we risked life and limb!”  Gabriel spat.

Hu Li took it all in and looked down at Gabriel’s wooden leg, arching an eyebrow.

Full of hubris, Hu Li retorted, “And somewhat unsuccessfully, I see. And how dare any of you blame me? Talon is the master of tactics, not I! It was by his blunderings that we found ourselves beset as we did. Caged in by our enemies… "

“APPRENTICE!”  Came the shrill voice from inside the tower.  “QUIT DALLYING OUT THERE WITH THE DUCKS, I AM IN SORE NEED OF YOUR TONGUE.  QUICKLY!”

Hu Li sighed heavily.  The proud façade gone, and shoulders suddenly slumped. “You think you know what I have endured?” He responded to Gabriel in a strangely lucid, if tired, voice.  “You don’t know the half of it.”  Hu Li turned away and walked inside.

We followed.

* * * *

Helena was visiting with Balian when we arrived in the study.  She was as unnervingly beautiful and alluring as ever.

“Oh look, Balian.  It’s Evora and crew!”  She purred.

“Hello.” Balian said in his characteristically shrill voice while adjusting his backless robe.  Eight scabrous, oozing sores covered his back, slowly bleeding a black fluid that smelled vaguely of vinegar and soiled feet. 

It was disgusting.

Orolde was dabbing one of them with a beige sponge dripping with some milky fluid.  Hu Li entered the room just before us and immediately went over to his master, knelt down and assisted him in adjusting his robe to expose the eight sores.

“Nancy is particularly in need of your special ministrations, Apprentice.” Balian cooed.  

“Yes master.” Hu Li responded as he began to lick the black ichor from one of the sores on the lower right of Balian’s back.

“Ahhhh.” Breathed Balian.  “_Excellent_.  That’s good, Apprentice. That’s good.”

Helena looked away from that vile scene and over to us, her expression going from revilement to a pleasant smile.

“It’s a pity that Veshra got away.  But don’t despair.  I’ve been doing some inquiring.  I think I’m close to finding out who released her.” She started.

“That’s great news, Lady Helena.” I responded enthusiastically.  “You will let us know as soon as you know?” I asked.

“Most certainly, I will.” She responded.  Then she seemed to look at Shallahai for the first time.

“What in the planes are you?” she asked, rising from her chaise lounge to inspect Shallahai, intrigued.

“This is Shallahai.  Shale reincarnated and evolved by the hand of The Green.” I responded.

“Fascinating.”  She responded, preoccupied with Shallahai.  “What interesting skin.”  She whispered.

“Are there more of you?” She asked Shallahai.

“None that I am aware of, Lady Helena.” Shallahai responded.

“Hmm.” She put her hands on her voluptuous hips satisfied and turned to the rest of us.  “So, what _does_ bring you here today?”

“We were at Brightstone Keep, which has been overrun by humanoids, Orcs and some giant hunchbacked green monsters with black claws and long warty noses.  We nearly didn’t survive.  The green giants kept regenerating and wouldn’t die.  We had hoped to obtain some guidance from Balian as to what they are and we came to collect Hu Li to help us defeat them.”  I responded.

“Bah!  Hu Li?” Came Balian’s shrill voice.  

“Yes Master?” Hu Li stopped licking to respond.

“Not you. Keep licking, Apprentice or it will be the Tentacle Room for you!”  Balian spat.

“Yes Master.” Hu Li quickly replied and renewed his licking with vigor.

Turning his attention back to us, he continued. “Help you?  Like he helped you defeat the Priest of Orcus and his minions?”  Hu Li is an incompetent boob!” Balian nearly shrieked.

Hu Li paused his licking to whine, “Master, please!” He quickly resumed his ghastly tongue ministrations on Balian’s sores.

“Quiet, Boy!” Balian retorted.

“But it wasn’t my fault.” Hu Li whined.

“Not your fault?!  Who told you, ‘don’t throw the bead into the room when your friends are in it,’ hmm?!”  Balian scolded Hu Li.

“But Master, I forgot!”  Hu Li whined.

“Oh for the love of Xuityuliifor!  To the Tentacle Room with you!” Balian commanded Hu Li.

“Yes Master.” Hu Li responded, despondently, slowly getting up and walking out of the room.

Gabriel was angry with Hu Li.  But he was clearly conflicted over how Balian was treating him.  Nonetheless, his recent embrace of Canaanism allowed him to hold his tongue.

When Hu Li left, Balian turned his attention to the rest of us.  Gabriel’s wooden leg caught his eye.  “Your leg’s off, boy.” He said to Gabriel.

“Yes, I know.” Gabriel responded angrily.

“What’d you go and do that for?” Balian asked.

Gabriel looked puzzled.

“Uh Master, It wasn’t his doing.  A dire wolf ripped it off of him in Wiltangle Forest.” I said, trying to clear things up.

“How rude.” Balian retorted.

“Yes well, we were wondering if you knew anything that could fix his leg.  A spell perhaps? Or a ritual?”  I asked.

“Hmm.  Let me think about that one.”  Balian mused.

“Didn’t you say you were fighting some green giants with hunchbacks and black claws?” Balian asked.

“Yes, Master.  We were.  At Brightstone Keep.”  I replied.

Balian got up and walked over to a wall of bookshelves, perusing the spines for a moment, looking for a particular title.  “Ah, there it is.” He said triumphantly as he pulled down a thick dusty volume and placed it on the table.

He opened the book to a picture.  “There.” He pointed at the picture.  “Is that it?”  He asked.

We all gathered around the reading table and looked at the picture.  It looked very much like the creatures we fought in the Keep.

“Yes! That’s it!” I cried.

“That’s a Troll.” Balian replied flatly.

“It can only be killed by fire or acid.  Otherwise, it will keep regenerating its wounds.” Balian explained.

“These trolls seemed to be immune to fire.” Shallahai said.

“That’s impossible.” Balian discounted Shallahai’s comment with a wave of his hand.

Shallahai merely shrugged.

“Come to think of it, troll blood might be used in a ritual to replenish Gabriel’s leg.  I’ll need a lot of it, though.  Perhaps a bucket full.”  Balian offered.

Helena looked at Balian, perplexed.  Changing the subject, she asked, “So what were you doing at Brightstone Keep anyway?”

Talon responded.  “The Duke charged us with routing the humanoids that had overtaken it.  And Allustan, an Arcanist from Diamond Lake, asked us to look for a lost Tomb to a Wind Duke for some artifacts.  Apparently the tomb is near Brightstone Keep.”

“Ah, Allustan.” Helena chuckled.  “He’s so obsessed with those Wind Dukes.”

“You know Allustan?” I asked Helena.

“Of course she does, Apprentice.  Like you, he was at one time my apprentice.  He didn’t stay long, however, finding my brand of arcanism too….complex.”  Balian interrupted.  "He decided to study with Manzorian at Mage Point in the Neutral Territory."

“Oh.” I replied.

Hu Li screamed from the other room.

“What are you doing to him?” Gabriel yelled out.

“He is being disciplined, Priest of Canaan.  He is learning the delicate art of concentration.”  Balian replied acidly in a voice that could shatter glass.  “And I will not have you interfering with his studies.”  He added.

Gabriel’s face turned red and he stormed out of the room and out of the tower.

I sighed.  Some things never change.

“We would like to take Hu Li with us to assist us in our charge.  Will you allow him to come?”  Lilian asked.

Balian looked at the champion considering her words.

“Hu Li may have a reprieve from his studies to aid you provided you all agree to come back to me at this tower at a time of my choosing to aid me in a very important task.”  Balian replied.

“I will, of course.” Lilian responded.  “You have my word.”

“You must all swear it.”  Balian continued, looking at all assembled.  When he got to Helena, he added, “Except you, of course, my dear.”

Helena smiled and nodded.  

* * * * 

We all swore to do Balian’s bidding and left the next morning with Hu Li and a severely bruised Gabriel in tow.  

“What happened to you?” Hu Li asked the bruised Gabriel as the wizard limped along.

“I was accosted by angry ducks all night.” Gabriel responded.  “What’s a matter with you?  Why are you limping?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Hu Li responded.

Fearing a repeat of the argument we endured last time we were at Balian’s tower, I quickly changed the subject.  “Hu Li, I have something for you.” I said, withdrawing a long ebony wand from my pack.  I obtained it from the werewolves’ den in the Wiltangle Forest.

“Oh, that’s so pretty!” Hu Li nearly giggled.  “What does it do?” He asked.

“I don’t know.  You’ll have to figure that out.”  I replied.

“Hmm, perhaps tomorrow.”  Hu Li said.  “I suppose you’re not all bad, priest.” He added after a moment.

* * * *

On the morning of the day we were to reach Brightstone Keep, I awoke early for my usual prayers. When I asked of Canaan to bless me with my usual access to His Domain of Mysticism, I felt a warmth at my chest that jarred me from my meditations. 

My holy symbol was glowing white. When I touched it, it was warm, and growing warmer by the moment. A cloud broke overhead and a thin ray of sun rained down on me. 

The divine spell _spiritual weapon_ was at that moment replaced with the normally druidic power to _heat metal_. I accepted the gift with all humility and thanked Canaan for His continued blessings.* 

By the time we arrived back at Brightstone Keep, it had been a full week since our last visit.  We noticed with some trepidation that the portcullis had been returned to its original position as though Shallahai’s spell had never been cast.  Clearly, there was a spell caster among them.

Luckily the portcullis was up this time.  We decided that Talon would sneak in first and immobilize the Orc guards in the towers while the rest of us battled the trolls.  None of the Orcs seemed to be manning the battlements.  Perhaps we killed enough of them last time that they had too few to watch during the day and since the trolls scared us off, they probably assumed nobody would be back.  

I was the first one into the courtyard, followed quickly by Lilian on Damien.  Shallahai and Hu Li remained outside the keep, standing on the rubble at one of the huge gaping holes in the keep’s walls.  Gabriel followed close behind Lilian and me.  Aside from two large wooden buildings with doors like barns, an empty stable area and a well with a chain wrapped around it, nothing was in the courtyard, except the dry, packed earth.

Then we heard some sounds of fighting from one of the towers.  Talon had begun.  

I heard a chain rattling ahead, as though it was being dragged along the ground.  Then a horn blew.  The Orcs sounded the alarm!

The doors to one of the barn-like structures slammed open and back against the side of the building.  Out lumbered one of the trolls, roaring.

Lilian cried out, “Look!  Over by the well!”

I looked to the well and saw the source of the rattling chain.  From around the side of one of the buildings near the well, the largest white wolf I had ever seen padded out, growling.  It was as big as Damien and was leashed by a thick metal spiked collar connected to a long chain wrapped around the well.

“Canaan, grant me your _divine shield_!” Lilian called out.  A moment later, she was wreathed in His righteousness.

“Canaan, bless these, your loyal servants, as they battle in your name.” I prayed to Canaan to _bless_ us.

Shallahai gasped. “Winter wolf!  Get out of there!”

But it was too late.  

The wolf breathed on us.  It was as cold as a blizzard on a dark winter night.  I felt as though my joints had frozen.  Frost covered my hair and eyebrows.  I could barely stand.  I stood there, shivering.

Lilian and Damien fared a bit better, and Gabriel was luckily out of range of the blast.

Lilian spurred Damien forward and drew her blade.  As Damien reached the wolf, Lilian sliced down on the wolf’s back, injuring it.  The angered wolf bit Lilian in return and drew blood.

Shallahai chanted to _produce flame_ as he did in the previous battle with the trolls.  But this time, he hurled a small ball of flame at the winter wolf.  The wolf yelped in pain as the flame hit its hide, singeing it.

Shivering, I called out to Canaan to send me his holy _spiritual weapon_, but in that moment I had forgotten that I had not received it from Him. The sword did not take shape and for a long moment I was flummoxed, until it hit me. I was granted _heat metal_. I looked to the iron collar winter wolf’s neck.

I thanked Canaan for His foresight and began to chant through blue lips. 

Hu Li pointed the ebony wand I had given him the other day at a point in the courtyard between him and us and spoke a word I didn’t understand.  A bright light lit the end of his wand and jetted to the point in space he indicated, but divided into three glowing balls, each of which grew into a celestial dog.  The _summoned monsters_ appeared and began barking and running toward the lumbering troll.

Meanwhile the doors to the other structure burst open and out lumbered the second troll.

Lilian and the wolf traded wounds.  Gabriel ran up behind his sister and whispered a prayer to Canaan to heal his sister.  He touched her side as she rode past to once again engage the massive winter wolf.  White light flared from his hand and Lilian was rejuvenated.

The first troll was effectively preoccupied by Hu Li’s celestial dogs.  The troll’s blows were so potent that the poor creatures could only take one hit before they died.  But being summoned creatures, they merely popped out of existence as they died.  So the troll batted at them and they “popped.”  The first three lasted a mere second.  At first the troll was confused, putting his hand to his mouth after “popping” the _summoned monsters_.  He seemed hungry and didn’t seem to understand why his food kept popping like a bubble, depriving him of meat.  Then the troll locked eyes with Hu Li, seeming to decide that Hu Li was responsible for the disappearance of his food.  The angry troll lumbered after the wizard.

My prayer ended and I felt the fires of the sun bolt like a wave from my hand, warming me and bolstering my courage.  The warmth spread from me, massaging the air forming undulating ripples between my fingers and the metal collar about the wolf’s neck. Seconds later, the creature’s neck began to smolder. 

Hu Li had to keep expending charges from his wand to keep the troll occupied.  Eventually, it was like a game to the troll.  I think the creature even giggled as he batted at the dogs and clapped his hands, skipping along toward Hu Li.  But the troll keep advancing on Hu Li and when Hu Li realized it, he got scared and ran away from the giant creature, until he was outside the keep.  Still summoning the dogs, Hu Li kept moving away from the troll.  But the troll kept coming, “popping” the celestial dogs.

Two more times, Shallahai hurled a small ball of flame at the winter wolf and scored hits.  Between our combined elemental assault and Lilian’s blade, the winter wolf was cut down, allowing Lilian to turn her attention to the second troll, which had just started beating Gabriel to a pulp.

Lilian called on Canaan to grant a blessing on her weapon.  Her sword glowed white for a moment, girded by Canaan’s grace.  Gabriel took a moment to heal himself, then attacked the troll with his fists with renewed vigor.

Meanwhile, Shallahai intoned another spell to _produce flame_.  This time, when he hurled his small balls of flame at the troll, they seemed to damage him.  I couldn’t tell the trolls apart physically, but I noticed from the stylization of this troll’s ring, that this was not the troll Shallahai had been pummeling with fire last time.  That got me thinking about the rings.

Lighting a stick of frankincense, I prayed. “Let the scent of Canaan’s holy smoke reveal that which is enchanted.” 

Focusing my concentration for several seconds and breathing in the thick aroma of the incense, I allowed the holy vapor to alter my consciousness such that when I opened my eyes, I would see the world from a higher perspective, differentiating between the mundane and the magical, allowing me to _detect magic_.  There it was.  The ring was magical.  Later, I would learn that both rings were enchanted and that the ring on the other troll protected the creature from fire, while the ring on this troll had a much more insidious nature.

With me healing Lilian and Gabriel, our combined efforts managed to defeat the troll.  Shallahai blasted two more balls of flame into it for good measure.  Its wounds seemed to stop knitting.

Hu Li screamed from far away, outside the keep.  We exchanged worried glances at each other and went to find him.  Lilian and Damien sped out through one of the large gaping holes in the keep’s walls.  Gabriel was next, followed by Shallahai and me.  

Hu Li was teetering with his back at the edge of the precipice.  One celestial dog stood between him and the giant troll.  He had no where left to run.  Lilian and Damien slammed into the troll from the side, sending the troll off the edge of the precipice to land at its bottom a hundred feet below.

Hu Li dropped to his knees and sobbed.

Gabriel turned around, disgusted.

Lilian dismounted and approached Hu Li, as did Shallahai and I.

“You were very brave.” Lilian said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“The troll will regenerate if we don’t do something about it.” Shallahai reminded us.

Hu Li wiped the tears away and collected himself.  “Yes.  Quite.”  He replied, rising and turning toward the edge of the precipice.

“Sagitta Acidus” He intoned and pointed as a green glowing _acid arrow_ shot from his index finger into the head of the troll at the bottom of the precipice, melting its face into some unrecognizable goo.  

“That should do it.” Hu Li said as he brushed his hands together.

“Where’s Talon?” Gabriel asked, listening for the sounds of fighting.

We all stopped to listen.  We were met with only silence.

Fearing the worst, we all ran back inside the keep toward the guard tower Talon had disappeared into.

**********

*Unbeknownst to Evora's player at this point, Canaan, through Tanner, the Exalted Child, had turned Evora's holy symbol--a Canaanite Cross--into an artifact of sorts.  This was the first indication that it was more than it seemed.  The holy symbol gave Evora access to the Sun Domain (one of Canaan's many domains) and increased his caster level +2 for all healing spells.  As Evora gains levels, the holy symbol exhibits new powers.


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## Canaan (Aug 17, 2006)

What? No reader comments?  No WONDER it's taken me soooo long to get the next update going.

Well, expect an update tonight or tomorrow, chock full of Hu Li madness and EVEN a PC death!  Can you guess who it will be?


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## Canaan (Aug 22, 2006)

*Chapter 26:  The Union of the Two*

I am sorry this took longer than I expected.  Friday came and went...

***********************

“Talon!” Gabriel shouted out.

He was met with silence.

Gabriel raced up the stairs in the tower to the trapdoor at its upper landing and bounded through it.  The bodies of several orcs lay broken on the flagstone battlements.

There among them was Talon’s battered, unmoving body.  The monk had clearly suffered from the rusted javelins the orcs masterfully wielded.  His gray robe was soaked with a mixture of his own blood and the blood and gore of the defeated orcs. The broken shaft of a javelin stuck out from his shoulder, the wood stained copper from his blood.

Fearing the worst, Gabriel felt for signs of life.  Finding a weak pulse, Gabriel whispered a prayer of thanks to Canaan and cured Talon’s grievous wounds.  Talon’s bones and flesh knit before Gabriel’s eyes as the curative power of Canaan coursed through his friend, pushing the javelin through the skin.  It clattered onto the flagstone.

Talon’s eyes opened and he gasped for air.  

“Welcome back to the living, old friend.” Gabriel said with a smile and a clasp on the shoulder.  “Let me help you up.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.  I am fine.” Talon said, getting up and waving Gabriel off.

Gabriel smiled and looked around.  Bodies of orcs were strewn across the battlements.  Gabriel counted them.  “12?!  You managed to take down 12 of those things?”  The astonished Gabriel looked at Talon with new respect.

“Yes.” Talon replied flatly and walked past Gabriel down the stairs of the tower and into the courtyard to join the others.

Hu Li had used the intervening time to collect trollblood into a rusty bedpan.  He was making a mess of things, having spilled the bedpan twice and having stepped in it once.  Hu Li was covered in blood by the time he was finished collecting a full bedpan’s worth of trollblood.

Emerging from the base of the tower, Talon rejoined us in the courtyard.  “Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” He announced.

“Hmmm.  Pity.” Hu Li replied and started to examine the troll he just bled, clearly uninterested in the monk.

“Oh look, a ring.” Hu Li announced, reaching for the ring on the troll’s corpse.

“Yes, Hu Li.” I said exasperated, slowly turning to face Hu Li.  “It is enchanted and… tainted.  I would advise leaving it alone.  It might—"  

I stopped mid-sentence as I saw Hu Li had already donned the ring.

“Oh no.” I muttered and buried my face in my hand.

Gabriel came running up.  “I think I heard something inside the barn.”

I looked up at Gabriel, worried.  Thoughts of Hu Li’s folly instantly fled from my mind at the sound of a potentially new threat.  I began walking toward the barn.  “Let’s see what new nastiness awaits us.  Be on your guard, everyone.”

With Shallahai behind and to the left of me and the bloody Hu Li to the right, I opened the double doors to the shed nearest the well.  The sun was behind me, I could tell, as the inhabitants of the shed, all peasants in various states of shock, hopelessness and injury shielded their eyes as I opened the doors.

“Fear not, for Canaan and Shankari are with you my friends.  His righteousness has smitten your captors and Her love has set you free.”  I said to the motley crew.  

Their arms, atrophied as they were, lifted toward the Heavens in relief and thanks. Tears of joy streamed down their muddied cheeks. 

“Thank Canaan!” Some shouted. 

“Thank the Green!” Shouted others.

We tended to them. Even Hu Li, in a rare show of altruism cast several prestidigitations on the peasants, instantly cleaning off untold days of gunk that covered their emaciated bodies. Shallahai, Gabriel, Lilian and I went immediately to work healing them. I called upon Canaan’s grace to provide the starving innocents with some food and water. 

Their bellies full, their clothes cleaned and their wounds healed, the serfs gathered around Shallahai as he told them tales of the Green. I had stepped away from the storytelling to gather my thoughts. 

Since I had opened the door on these people, uttering those words “His righteousness has smote your captors and Her love has set you free” I felt something stirring deep within me. It was pure as a newborn; light, innocent, and full of boundless potential, but also fragile, delicate and hungry for love and attention. 

I saw the truth. I felt the jagged rift between the Green and Canaanism as if it were a wound in my chest so deep it split my very heart. I witnessed first hand the awesome might and eternal righteousness that sprung from the commingling of the two faiths. 

For, I realized, my whole being full of boundless joy and hope, the two faiths were in fact One. They were a Union of two, crying out to be rejoined. The Male and the Female. The Spirit and the Flesh. That which is and that which loves.

The Green was the physical, that which could be touched, seen, smelled, tasted, while Canaan was the heart, the soul, the spirit. The softness of wool. The soothing fragrance of lavender. The awe in a sunrise over a mountaintop. The sweetness of grapes. 

Sensation is the Green. The feelings those sensations beget are Canaan. 

One cannot exist without the other. 

This was my calling. Though a great weight lifted from me, I felt the yoke of urgency pulling me forward to destiny. 

I was to rejoin that which was torn asunder. To rebuild what was lost and heal the one true faith of Turgos. 

I knew this would brand me a heretic in the eyes of mortals, but I did not fear. Canaan and the Green were with me. 

I retired from Shallahai’s storytelling to a narrow, quiet lip that jutted from the cliff outside the walls of Brightstone Keep. 

Looking toward the star-sprinkled midnight sky, I began formulating the edicts of this new ministry and means by which I would spread the Good News.  

* * * *

I must have fallen asleep there.  As dawn came, I awoke and made my daily prayers to Canaan.  As I was finishing, I heard the soft padding of feet.  Opening my eyes, I saw a little girl of perhaps ten years.  She wore a simple yellow dress.  Her brown locks were tied up into pigtails and bound in grass.  She was barefoot.

“Good morning, Father.” She greeted me in her soft little voice with wide eyes and a smile.

“Well, good morning to you, too, little one.” I responded with a smile.

She sat down on the dirt in front of where I was meditating, mimicking my style of sitting.  “I’m Hanna” she said after a second.  She was playing with something in her hands.

“I’m Evora.” I replied.  “What do you have there, Hanna?” I asked.

“It’s a gift for you.” She replied.  I made it last night when the forest spirit was speaking to us.  Mommy told me that I should make you something to show you and Canaan our thanks and respect for saving us.”  She added innocently as she held out the gift.

It was a Canaanite cross whittled from two small sticks, bound together with grass and interwoven with ivy vine and holly.  It was simple and beautiful.  It was the perfect symbol to represent the union of the two faiths.  I looked at Hanna.  I saw only youth and innocence.  Such a thing, such a beautiful thing made from the hands of such a naive creature.  This new religion, one that would marry the god and the goddess, was as youthful and innocent as this little girl.  Surely it was no coincidence that she would be the one to conjure the symbol of this new religion.  

Taking the cross in my hand and examining it, I said, “This is a truly remarkable gift, Hanna.  I will never forget your kindness.  I will keep it with me always, next to my heart. Thank you.” I told her.

She blushed.  

“Do you follow Canaan or The Green?” I asked.

“Our family follows The Green.  But we go to church whenever the Priest of Canaan is in our area.  Mommy says we have to go so we don’t get in trouble.  Why would we get in trouble if we didn’t go to church, Evora?”  She asked.

I tried to mask my incredulity.  I suppose I shouldn’t have been shocked.  But I had never known what the followers of The Green underwent to stay free.  What persecution they endure!  I felt nauseous that I had belonged to an institution that would so repress a person’s spirit that she could not even have the freedom to worship whom she chose.

“I don’t know.” I lied.  I knew why.  It was so that the Curia could maintain power and influence.  But this little girl would not understand that.  And this little girl would not understand my disagreement with that approach. 

“It will not be like that forever, however.  Trust me.” I added.

Looking again at the cross she made for me, I asked, “What do you call a marriage in the ancient language?”  

“I don’t know.” Hanna responded.  “I don’t know the ancient language.”

“Hanna!” I heard a woman call.  We turned to see a woman in a long brown skirt and white blouse waving to Hanna.  

“Is that  your mommy?” I asked Hanna.

“Uh-huh.” She responded.  “I have to go now.”  She said sadly.

“Well, you don’t want to disobey your mommy.” I said.

Hanna got up and hugged me.  “Bye.”  She said.

“Bye, Hanna.” I said.  “Thank you.”

As Hanna ran back toward the keep and her waiting mom, my thoughts once again turned toward the possibilities of purging the Curia from this land and bringing true enlightenment to the citizens of Turgos.

_Why do you come here, Heretic_?  There was a voice in my head.  It was familiar somehow.  I looked around.  It was so invasive and disturbing, like pinpricks in my brain.

_Did you come to spread your seed in all the little boys and girls_?  There it was again.  What was it?  It was clearly female and foul.

_Or did you just come here to renounce the Great Thief_?  By Canaan, what is she talking about?  I was frantically looking around for the source of this voice.  She must be near.  But I saw nothing.

“Show yourself!” I yelled out.  But I was met with silence.

“Show yourself, witch!” I repeated.  My call was met with disturbing laughter, laughter that my mind, not my ears, heard.

I got up and ran toward the keep.

I found the others gathered around the well.  Winded, I approached Lilian.

“We have to get these people out of here.  They are not safe here.” I said through ragged breaths.

“What do you mean?” Lilian asked, puzzled.  “What’s going on?”

“Someone else is here, Lilian.  Something sinister.”  I responded. “It may be Veshra.” 

“I feel it, too.  There is something in the mine.  The captives told me they were slaves to something called the Kurjan, a great Orc Shaman.  He had a human woman helping him.  Apparently the woman used her magic to enchant these people to come here in the first place, where they were made slaves to work the mines.  But they weren’t mining silver.  They were excavating, looking for something.  The next shift is due to return to the mines in a couple of hours.  They will be missed.” Lilian explained.

“Then we have to get these people out of here, Lilian.  _Now_!” I repeated with urgency.

“I know.  We are attempting to discover what has tainted the water in this well, to remove its influence from the water so that you can purify it and the people can fill their waterskins for the journey home.  Shallahai is in the well now.

“I found it.” Came a hollow sounding voice from the well.  It was Shallahai.  I peered over the edge of the well.

Shallahai was holding up a burlap sack.

“A brick was out of the well.  It was letting dirt into the well water.  I replaced it and mended the breach.  This sack was also letting out blood into the water.”  Shallahai continued as he climbed out of the well and through the sack to the ground.

I stepped over to the well.  The water level was pretty low.  “Gabriel, can you lower me to the surface of the water with a rope?” I asked.

“Sure.” He replied.  Lilian handed him a rope.  He tied it around me and lowered me into the well.

Once at the water’s surface, I whispered a prayer to Canaan to _purify water_.  

In mid-prayer, I heard that voice again.  _You expect him to grant you miracles when you intend to destroy him, heretic?_  Through a feat of extreme concentration, I managed to finish the prayer.  Canaan’s holy light flashed at my fingertip as it touched the surface of the water.  A glow pulsed through the well water for an instant and faded.  The prayer worked.

_Silence, Infidel_! I thought.

I heard commotion at the top of the well.  “Evora! Come quickly!” I heard Lilian yell.

Gabriel heaved on the rope.  In a matter of seconds I was back at the top of the well, where I saw, to my amazement, Hu Li encased in a solid block of amber.

His mouth was open in surprise.  He was holding a box carved with strange alien sigils that seemed to writhe.  The burlap sack that Shallahai had brought from the bottom of the well was laying open at his feet.  Hu Li was unmoving.

“Foolish wizard!” I cursed.  His recklessness was bound to do him in eventually.

“What has happened to him?” Talon asked.

“This is a magical trap created by a spell, called _sepia snake sigil_.” I replied.  “He must have triggered it when he tried to open the box.”

“Can you remove the enchantment?” Shallahai asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” I replied.  “I do not have that kind of power.”

_You will once you have destroyed the Great Thief.  But that’s your plan isn’t it, Heretic?_  That voice was in my head again.

“We _have_ to get these people out of here, _now_!” I demanded.

Lilian looked shocked at my outburst.

“Lilian, you _must_ trust me.  Something very sinister is in that mine and it knows we are here. It has been baiting me all morning.” I replied urgently.

Lilian nodded, finally grasping the urgency of the situation.

Shallahai and Gabriel lined up the villagers at the well as Gabriel filled their waterskins.  I blessed them in the name of Canaan and the Green and sent them on their way.  As I came to Hanna in line, she hugged me, “I hope that Canaan and the Green keep you safe.  Will you come visit me?” She asked.  

“Where to you live, child?” I replied.

She gave me directions to get to her house and I committed them to memory, fully intending to visit her and her family.

_Pedophile!  Filthy, retched man_!  It was the voice, again.

I responded in my mind.  _You are obviously a flawed creature for you cannot perceive my true feelings and desires.  You are nothing_. I thought.

_I will feast on your flesh, priestling_! Came the deranged reply.

I whispered a prayer to Canaan to give me the strength of will required for my coming trial.

As the last of the farmers-turned-slaves left the keep, I returned to the others.  They were trying to move Hu Li.  Gabriel and Talon together could carry him relatively easily.

“What shall we do with him?” Gabriel asked.

“Leave him here for now.” I responded.  “He will be no assistance to us in our coming confrontation.”

“How long will he be like this?” Lilian asked.

“Days.  Weeks.” I replied.  “It depends on the power of the wizard or sorcerer that laid the trap.”

I began walking toward the mine entrance, resolute that whatever Adversarial creature awaited us would die and wither when faced with Canaan’s truth.

I was wrong.

Inside, the mine was dark.  Gabriel whispered a prayer and his hand was enveloped in the righteous white fire of Canaan, lighting our way.  Lilian walked next to her brother, followed by me and Talon.  Shallahai brought up the rear.

Cobwebs and dust covered everything but the well worn path the farmers took to get where they had been lead.

We traveled deeper into the mine.  

_I warned you, priestling_.

It was her voice again.

“Stop!” I cried out.  “She is near.”

“Who?” Shallahai asked.

“The creature, the beast in my head.” I replied.

“Your priest has surely gone mad, Lilian, Champion of Canaan.” It was a woman’s voice, audible, ahead of us.  A figure emerged from the shadow into view.  She was lithe and sensual, naked.  Her supple breasts were full as were her ruby lips.  Her hair was black as pitch and shone like silk in Gabriel’s light.  It was long and straight, its ends teasing her erect nipples.  She moved like water, such grace I had never seen before in a human.  Though she was not human.  Her beauty was marred by two small horns jutting out from her forehead, a long supple tail jutting out from her backside and large furled batlike wings.

“Succubus!” I cried, as I readied my mace.

“Leave here, Heroes.  You have no business here.  I give you this one warning.”  She commanded.

“You are the creature from the jail in Goldfire Glen.” Lilian accused the Succubus.

“Yes, Champion.  And I see you still fail to see the error of your ways.  While I personally have no affection or reverence for him, Orcus will have your soul, just as he has devoured those of your parents.  You are a fool and you run a fool’s errand!”  The Succubus leveled her gaze at Lilian as if in challenge.

Gabriel issued a battle cry and charged the Succubus, but she had been expecting such a move.  As Gabriel prepared to land a blow on the Succubus, she phased into the ether.  

“You have been warned!” She spoke in an ethereal voice, its menace echoing off of the mine walls.

A moan escaped unseen voices down the corridor from us.  A moment later, four skeletal creatures dripping flesh shuffled into view.  As they got closer, we could see that it was not flesh that dripped from them, but little green worms.  They were infested with them.

Fear seized our hearts.  These were unnatural abominations!  Gabriel succumbed to the horror of these creatures and went screaming back toward the entrance of the mine, out of his mind with fear.

“Fear not, my friends!  Canaan is with us!” Lilian commanded as she unsheathed her longsword and prepared to battle the undead.  “Canaan!  Grant me your shield!”  She cried.  And a white glow surrounded her in the form of a magnificent tower shield then faded into her, bolstering her for the coming battle with Canaan’s _divine shield_.

Shallahai chanted: 

“_Goddess, grant your creatures the eternal renewal of your most sacred cycles.  Infuse them with nature’s gift of _ vigor.”  

A deep green glow surrounded us for a moment.  The air was cleared of dust and we could see clearly, as though the area around us had been cleansed of the taint of age and all was fresh as the first day of Spring.

Even thusly bolstered, I had to fight down the urge to retch in the presence of such evil.  I clutched my holy symbol, my Canaanite Cross, the one that Tanner had infused with some sort of divine power.  Feeling Canaan’s symbol in my grasp lent me strength.  My faith in Canaan is absolute.  I presented the symbol to the undead abominations coming at me.  

“The Light of Canaan compels you!” I commanded.  A bright, blinding light shot out from my holy symbol, flooding the mine with light.  

“The Truth of Canaan compels you!” I commanded with greater force, as I took a step toward the lumbering creatures.  Angelic voices filled the air, whispering sublime prayers to the Lord of Truth.

The writhing skeletons paused.

“The _Power_ of Canaan compels you!” I commanded at last with righteous fury.  The light intensified and the chanting angelic voices became a cacophony of perfect prayer.  Both reached a crescendo then suddenly stopped.  A split second later three of the four undead burst into sunlight and disintegrated to dust.

The Succubus screamed in frustration from somewhere in the distance.  

Lilian and Talon engaged the remaining skeleton.  Lilian connected with her blade, but to no avail.  Talon managed to punch the creature and narrowly avoided a falling worm.

Then from off in the distance, we heard: “Fleshraker, kill the infidels and bring me their blood!” The Succubus cried out from a place unseen.

Moments later, a creature perhaps ten feet tall resembling a man with talons, claws and a vulture-like head, flew from down the corridor, bullrushing Lilian to the ground.  A mass of spores exploded from its body as it did so.  They covered Lilian.  

Lilian screamed as the spores began to bore into her skin, finding the breaks in her armor.

Shallahai began to chant:

“_Mistress of the Earth, the Air, the—_,”  He stopped and started to convulse uncontrollably.

Talon finished off the skeleton, unleashing a flurry of blows on it. The bones crumbled under his relentless blows. 

Lilian swung her blade at the new creature, biting into its flesh.  Black ichor oozed out of the wound she opened in its arm. It let out a piercing screech as gray needle thin spores exploded from its flesh and bore through Lilian’s armor and into her flesh. 

I looked to Shallahai in confusion as he convulsed, then back at the birdman.  Something was familiar about this creature.  I wracked my memory to think of it even as I whispered a prayer to Canaan.  "Canaan, grant us your divine light so that we may see clearly!"  My mace was suddenly engulfed in _light_, purging the near darkness that was quickly descending as Gabriel fled further out of the mine.

The creature unleashed the full fury of its attacks on Lilian, opening wounds on her arms and chest.  She screamed as the bird creature’s spores dug deeper into her skin.  She was in bad shape.  Lilian again swung at the creature and missed, considerably weakened from the beating she had just taken.

“Vrock!” I cried, suddenly realizing what this creature was.  “It is a demon! One of the Adversary’s chosen! _Run_!” I cried.

But it was too late.  Talon lunged at the creature, locking it in a hold, trying to grapple it to the ground.  

That was a mistake.  Instead of trying to escape Talon’s hold, the creature took the opportunity to shred Talon with its vicious claws.  To the Vrock’s natural weapons, Talon was like paper.  Blood sprayed across the walls of the mine as Talon was eviscerated in one terrible series of rakings.  What little was left of his corpse went limp.

Shallahai suddenly stopped convulsing as _Yuindr_ flew into his hands.  The blade glowed green and Shallahai’s eyes glowed to match.  Shallahai charged the Vrock Demon.  

It was as Master Baern had warned.  The blade must have been vying with Shallahai’s will until Shallahai succombed to its domination.  

“_She_ will have your water, fiend!” Shallahai cried as he thrust Yuindr into the Vrock Demon.  A pulse of green entered the Vrock from Yuindr and the demon’s flesh began to sink into itself as it was drained of all of its bodily fluids.  A _horrid wilting_.  Shallahai withdrew Yuindr and the dessicated husk of the Vrock collapsed onto the mine floor.

Shallahai convulsed a second time and Yuindr clanged onto the ground.

“Run!” I yelled.  “Before the Succubus returns.”

Shallahai shook his head clear and picked up _Yuindr_.  Lilian picked up Talon’s corpse.  And I grabbed Talon’s pack.  We all ran out of the mine to find a whimpering Gabriel crouching next to the block of amber that contained Hu Li.

Lilian screamed as the spores burrowed deeper.  She fell, unconscious.


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## iStrider (Sep 20, 2006)

When is the next update?  I am eager for more!


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Sep 20, 2006)

iStrider said:
			
		

> When is the next update?  I am eager for more!




What he said.

Canaan, I somehow managed to miss the last update (must have been posted when I was on my hols). It's great stuff. Please don't keep us waiting too long for another instalment.


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## Canaan (Sep 29, 2006)

*Chapter 27:  Talon Half-Faean*

Thanks for the continued support!  Real life kept me busy this last month, but I managed to squeak out an update for you!

* * * * *

There was barely a table scraps’ worth of energy left in me.  We had traveled far and with little rest.  By the grace of Canaan I was able to remove from Gabriel the fright he had experienced in the mine and remove the horrid, demonic malady that had plagued Lilian.  

Gabriel insisted on going to Goldfire Glen.  So we parted company with him to deliver the news of Talon’s passing to Talon’s master.  Master Baern had been visiting when we arrived at Talon's Master's abode just outside of Goldfire Glen.  Both Master Baern and Talon’s Master appeared nonplussed.  For both of them, I suppose, it was the inevitable end for us all, so to see us alive must have left them befuddled, but pleased.

On seeing our distress over the loss of our friend, Master Baern offered to take us to his Grove to use the Golden Cauldron and the Silver Sickle to perform a ritual to shepherd Talon’s soul into another receptacle.  We readily took him up on the offer.  We would leave the following day. That evening, we dined on bean pies and blackberry juice generously provided by Talon’s Master. 

Though I understand intellectually and philosophically the Celind’s belief that by disavowing oneself from all possessions, living or otherwise, one is lead to enlightenment, for Talon’s Master to show no signs of grief whatsoever at the site of his apprentice’s rendered body, troubled me. Talon, so I was lead to believe, was not just a student to the Master, but he was an adopted son to a father. How could a father be so removed to the death of his son?

I dare not judge, but the only shard of emotion I could detect from the Master’s demeanor was a brief flash of annoyance, which was swiftly shrouded by his usual stoicism. I am sure my limited comprehension of the Celind’s enigmatic ways clouded my perception. 

After what amounted to a barely adequate rest, I was aroused by Lilian. 

“I wish to return to Goldfire Glen.” She told me as I drearily got to my feet. “I mean to check on my brother. I would be grateful for your company.” 

“And what of Talon?” I asked. 

“My visit shall be brief.” She said with the slightest hint of a melancholy smile. 

An hour before dawn, we left the Master’s home and journeyed in silence to Goldfire Glen. By the time the first rays of the sun were warming the cobblestone streets of the little town, we had made it to the square. Already, the streets were abuzz with early risers. 

Upon seeing us, one of the villagers, a mother with several children gasped and pointed to us. 

“Canaan be praised!” She shouted. I felt the gazes of dozens of faces. “Blessed be the Green! The Heroes have returned!” 

Before we could react, we were surrounded. Hands reached out. Lilian and I humbly obliged. My heart swelled with joy and sorrow. What did these simple, pure people hope to find in our touch? What could I possibly provide them? 

“Vat is all this about?” A harsh, grating voice rose above the crowd. Almost instantly the mood was shattered. The crowd moved back revealing a short, thin man with a long sallow face. He was flanked by two armored Justicars. His lips were turned down into a condescending scowl that eyed the cowed crowd with the indignation of a disappointed parent. 

How shocked I was when I realized by his white robe and golden cross that he was a Priest of Canaan. Lilian stepped forward. The priest’s features immediately softened.

“Father Zeigfried.” She said. “How good it is to see you again.” 

“Lady Lilian Evenshire.” The priest answered. “Velcome home. Gabriel eez doink much better.” 

“I am pleased to hear it.” Lilian answered. “In fact, that is why I am here.”

“Ah.” The priest said, his eyes drifting over to me. His scowl returned. “Well, my Lady, he eez vaiting for you.” 

Lilian nodded and turned to me. 

“Would you care to join me, Evora?” She asked, sensing the sudden tension. 

I looked to the people of Goldfire Glen. How the very presence of this Father Ziegfried had filled the populace with nothing short of fear. This was not Canaan’s love. This was nothing short of coercion. 

My fatigue instantly vanished. I heard Canaan calling to me. I felt His glory fill me like a desert ravine after a winter shower. 

I knew what I must do. This was the day. This was the moment. 

“My place is here.” I told Lilian. “Give Gabriel my best. I shall be here when you are ready to return to Talon’s Master.” 

Lilian nodded and left me. Father Ziegfried watched her go. He gestured and one of the Justicars broke away from him and followed her. 

Father Zeigfried then turned back to the crowd. 

“Gather round, guud people of Tergos!” He said, raising his voice to demand their attention. “Canaan has a message for you. For each and everyone.”

He held up his hand and stretched out his fingers. 

“Bevare zee Adversary. He is but one, but he has many means to catch you and brink you into heez clutches. Like my hand has five fingers, each able to move and act on its own, but each still attached to my hand, so are zee vays of zee Adversary. Through guile. Through temptation. Through sloth, greed, vretched libation and jes, even zee seemingly innocuous, but wholly false teachings of zee Green.” 

I stopped listening. He went on for quite some time. I caught references to paganism, to the “teachings of death” and the evils of “zee” Fae. 

Lies. All lies. But lies told with veracity become truth in both the teller and the listener. All is drowned under the sea of zealotry, and as I panned the crowd, I could tell that many of them were barely able to tread water. 

Father Zeigfreid finally finished. Two more Justicars had moved into the square. They remained as the priest was escorted back to the temple by the other Justicar. 

Once they were out of sight I moved up to the very spot he stood. My whole body began to shake from nerves, but I swallowed all fear, looked up to the heavens and began. 

_The world bleeds
It cries out for healing

As a child, torn from its
Mother and Father
Cries out for comfort
And as a child
It does not cry for its
Father alone
Nor does it cry for its
Mother alone
A child cares not
Whether the embrace
That eases its suffering
Comes from its mother
Or its father
Its tears are dried
By love alone
Caring not that the love
Came from the father
Or the mother
Only caring
That its tears are dried
And its fears, wiped away.
Only through the loving kindness
Beget from the union of
The mother
And the father
Can true healing begin_

As banally as it began, so it ended. A small crowd had gathered and listened politely, only to disperse when I had finished. Only the Justicars showed signs of having truly listened, and I could tell by the clipped turn of their heels and swift march to the temple that the words had inspired them only to indignation. 

It would not be long before the heretical nature of my words were ingested and immediately spat out by Father Ziegfried. 

I knew what I had done and was ready to stand judgment. I feared only the wrath of the Green and the sentence of Canaan. 

Not long afterward, a woman approached me. Her features, though youthful, were etched with the lines brought about by long days under a merciless sun tending to acres of wheat. Her hair was shrouded under a sweat stained cap. She reminded me of my mother. I could not help but smile at her. 

Layered with nerve she thanked me for my sermon. 

“It was lovely.” She said. “It was about Canaan, yes? The Mother and the Father. He is both and one. Yes?”

“The Father is Canaan.” I answered. “The Mother is the Green.”

Her eyes flashed from repulsion to curiosity to, at last, a reluctant acceptance. 

“I see.” She simply said after a long silence. “I will contemplate what you have said, Father.” 

She turned and walked off. I watched her go, pleased that I had touched at least one soul. My moment of self-congratulatory bliss was cut short by Lilian’s return. 

“We may go now.” 

It was all she said for some time. Her whole countenance showed unusual signs of irritation. I began to ask her if she wished to talk, but she cut me short, apologizing. 

“Your presence alone is enough.” She assured me. “I do not wish to discuss it at this time.” 

I left it at that. 

***********

Our journey back to Wiltangle Forest was happily dull. I kept Talon’s body in a continual state of _gentle repose_, but beyond that task I had little to do. Hu Li’s encapsulated body was bound to the back of a cart that was then pulled by two horses and driven by Talon’s master. Shallahai and Master Baern walked beside the slow moving cart. Lilian and I kept to the rear. Both Masters kept to themselves the majority of the time, allowing only Shallahai to gain any useful access to their counsel. All attempts to inquire of the druid what he spoke of with the Masters were rebuked. 

“It remains between us and the Green.” Was all he said. 

After several days of surprisingly relaxing and rejuvenating travel, our small band arrived at Master Baern’s grove in the heart of a slowly healing Wiltangle. 

Master Baern performed the same ceremony on Talon’s remains that he had on Shale’s. As before, Talon’s body was consumed by the surrounding foliage in a bright green glow and after several minutes of waiting, we heard a rustle on the outskirts of the grove. A short, thin, angular figure stepped forth. He was completely naked. Before I shielded my eyes from his most personals, I caught a glimpse of his face.

It was without a doubt Talon, but at the same time, not Talon. His features were more angular and his eyes almost almond shaped.  He appeared more lithe, yet more fragile than before.

His Master draped him in a thick robe the color of sun bleached grass. He instantly recognized us, but just below his usual stoicism sparked a frenetic energy I had never seen before. Lilian and I tried to speak to him, but with each question, he began to answer, only to be cut short by a sudden urge to stare at a leaf flapping playfully on the wind, or climb to the upper most branches of a tree, just because it was there.

Master Baern sensed our exasperation and smiled.

 “Talon had returned as a Half-Faean creature” he explained as Talon’s Master knowingly nodded. “He is not quite human and not quite Fae.”  

Afterward, Master Baern attempted to address Hu Li’s predicament. He experimented with several esoteric Green infused evocations and divinations. All failed, 

"There's nothing I can do for him." Master Baern declared with some sadness.  "Your friend is afflicted by an arcane spell of some potency.  The caster of that magic must have been very powerful." He finished.

While it was a miracle in itself that Talon was back among the living, I couldn’t help but feel defeated.

The succubus was not vanquished and it was only by the unwilling use of a potent relic of a lost age infused with the essence of The Green that we had survived the Vrock attack at all.  Why was she taking peasants and farmers to the mine?  What was she looking for in there?  I knew.  I knew in my heart, and my mind wished it not to be so.  The green worms infesting those creatures in the mine are what finally clued me in.

Allustan was right.  This is about Kharas'Vhoories.  Or about the appearance that Kharas'Vhoories is behind it.

The Succubus must have been looking for the Tomb of the Wind Duke General.  She commanded the worm infested dead, creatures the like of which only Kharas'Vhoories knew the secret to make, or so I have read.  In the guise of the merchant from Shuuth, she had taken over the General Store from Tanner's parents, who had not been seen since they sold their store.  Of course, they surely died in the Cultist attack on Goldfire Glen.  

Why was she in the guise of a Shuuthian merchant?  Her timing was either incredibly coincidental or impeccably timed, as the priests were then due in Goldfire Glen to collect Tanner.  My mind drifted to Archbishop Tagavarius’s command to me, “uncover the Adversarial plot against Canaan.”  

This all smacked of an Adversarial conspiracy against Canaan, perhaps to interrupt the presence of the Voice and Will on Turgos.  If Tanner were killed and the Voice and Will to die before another Exalted Child could be found Canaan's followers might be cut off from him on Turgos.  Surely it would take more than that to separate Canaan from his followers, wouldn't it?  Canaan is the beginning and the end.  Would it be the end of all things?  I just don't know.  My head hurt thinking about it.  

But what is Kharas'Vhoories's role in this.  The long dead lich surely has no power.  Someone or something is manipulating things to make it seem as though he is somehow still a threat.  Right?  Oh, I don't know.  

One thing is however inescapably clear.  We must now, once again, beseech an arcanist for assistance.  Hu Li cannot remain in that block of amber forever, as much as I would wish it.

* * * * 

“I release you!” Balian intoned in his characteristically shrill voice, his hand outstretched, palm forward, on the block of amber surrounding Hu Li.

The block of amber blinked out and Hu Li fell to the ground.

Balian turned away with a harrumph, walking to his easy chair in the study at his Tower.

“Hu Li!” Lilian cried, lurching forward to see if he was alright.

“Yes, my dear?” came Hu Li’s response as he opened his eyes, laying on his back with his hands folded across his chest.

“You frightened us terribly.” She helped him off of the rug.  A log crackled in the fireplace.

“Yes, you should be more careful in the future, Hu Li.  It could have been a deadly trap laid on that box.” I admonished the wizard.

“Well, it certainly took you long enough to remove the enchantment.” Hu Li retorted.  

Balian was reading a book, “_Secrets of The Great Rift._”

Talon remained sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, preferring to play with a fuzzball he found rather than engage in the conversation.

Shallahai merely stared into the fire, eyes glowing white with the introspective power of The Green.

Remembering my vow of patience, I chose to ignore Hu Li’s comment.

Balian looked up from his book.  “Bah! None of them had it in their power to release you, fool.  You’re just lucky they had the wherewithal to contact me.”

“Yes, Master.” Hu Li bowed toward his master.  “Of course.  You are most kind.” He added patronizingly.

Balian scowled and was about to return to his reading, when something on Hu Li’s finger caught his eye.  His eyes bulged.

“What is THAT?!” He stood straight up and pointed, arm outstretched for maximum effect, aimed at Hu Li’s ring finger.

The ring he had acquired from the troll at Brightstone Keep.

Hu Li quickly hid his hand behind his back.  “N-nothing master.  It is b-but a trinket.”

“Show me!” Balian commanded.  And Hu Li’s hand came unbidden from behind his back as if thrust forward by some unseen force.  Hu Li cried out, whining.  “It’s mine!”

Balian stepped forward, staring intently at the ring then addressing Hu Li squarely in the eye, fury apparent on his brow.  “Tell me, apprentice, how you came to be wearing one of the Nine Rings of Perdition?”

Shallahai turned from the fire and glared at Hu Li with white, glowing eyes.  

“Which one is it?” Shallahai asked Balian.

“It is the _Band of Caarcrinolaas_” announced Balian.  “It is a _Ring of Betrayal_, the most potent of the three.”

Fitting, I thought.  But I bit my lip.

“Should you continue to wear this ring, you will slowly become corrupted by it until you find yourself betraying one of your friends so frightfully that your soul will be forever stained by the betrayal.  Your soul will go straight to Hell when you die, where you will serve eternity in the Lake of Fire.” Balian leveled his gaze at Hu Li.

“But it’s mine!” Hu Li whined.

“How is it removed?” I asked.

“With great effort.” Balian replied.

“Can you do what must be done?” I asked the great arcanist.

“Of course.”

“Then, do it.” I said, surprising myself at the brusqueness of my tone.

Balian cocked an eyebrow at me and turned to Hu Li.  Pointing at the ring, he intoned, “_Resecro!_”  

Nothing happened.  He followed that intonation with another, waiving his hand over Hu Li’s hand, “_Resolvo Venificus!_”  A bead of sweat fell from Balian’s brow.

The ring fell heavily onto the rug.  Balian sighed.

Hu Li dashed for it.

Talon, who had been collecting several fuzzballs into a small pile, quickly swiped the ring up and threw it into the fire.  Shallahai adjusted his stance so he was completely blocking the view to the fireplace.

Hu Li looked at the fire, then to Shallahai.  Realizing defeat, he pouted and stormed off to his room.

Balian chuckled.  Then he glanced at me before walking back to his easy chair.  

My forehead squirmed.  I fought the urge to touch it.

“Where is your friend, the one with the bum leg?” Balian asked as he once again seated himself.

“Gabriel?” Lilian asked.

“Yes, that’s it.  That brawler.  I miss his visits.” Balian responded.

“W-well, he didn’t want to come here.  He doesn’t much care for you, Balian.  Besides, he’s decided to stay in Goldfire Glen and help the village recover from its recent horrors.  We left him there on the way to your tower after Master Baern reincarnated Talon.” Lilian explained.  “I mean no offense.” She quickly added.

She glanced at Talon with a worried expression.  He was now making three-dimensional pictures with the fuzzballs on the rug, arranging them in meticulous fashion.

“Offense?” Balian chuckled again.  “None taken, my dear.  If I were so easily offended, I think I might not make it out of bed in the morning.  I’m not a terribly well-regarded man, you know.” 

“No.  I don’t know.” Lilian innocently responded.

“Well, no matter.”

“We brought you the troll blood you requested.  Do you really think you can restore Gabriel’s leg?” I asked, going over to our packs to retrieve the troll’s blood.  I had managed to transfer it into a large bladder. It was easier to carry that way.

“Troll’s blood?  What did I want troll’s blood for?” Balian asked, confused.

“To create a ritual to restore Gabriel’s leg.” I responded, equally confused.  Surely this great arcanist doesn’t have the memory of a fruit fly.

“Oh yes!” Balian exclaimed.  “That’s right!” He was excited.  Then in an abrupt turn around, he added flatly “I don’t know what I was thinking.  I couldn’t possibly put the bugger’s leg back on if I tried.  You need a priest for that.”

I just stood there in the doorway to his study holding the bladder of troll’s blood with my mouth slightly agape. 

A woman’s hand gently closed my jaw as she entered the room from behind me.  Her scent was intoxicating and her voice warm as a summer day.

“Now, now, Balian.  You shouldn’t tease them like that.  It’s not nice.” Helena purred as she gracefully entered the room and lounged on a divan near the fireplace. 

“What?  I’m not teasing them, I can’t do it.” Balian retorted.

Helena  frowned slightly.

“When did you get here?” He asked.

“Just now.” She responded.

“But my anti-teleportation wards?” Balian said incredulously.

“You disabled them for me, remember?” Helena responded.

“Oh right! Yes, of course.  I remember. Yes.” Balian said sheepishly.

Turning to me, Helena smiled.  “I obtained some information that may be helpful.”  She paused.  “According to my sources, the Succubus that freed Veshra goes by the name Caladriel.  It’s not her True Name, but it is a name she is currently using.”

“That’s great!” I exclaimed.  “But what use is this information to us?” I added, doubtful.

“There’s more.” She paused again.  “An arcanist summoned and bound her for the task of freeing Veshra.”

Balian’s eyebrow raised.

“It was Cranston.” She said, as if to Balian only.

“Cranston?!  What on Turgos would he do THAT for?” Balian bellowed.

“I don’t know.  But this Caladriel is crafty.  She is apparently a spy for Dis and a frequent member of Graz’zt’s court.”

“Dis?” I asked, combing my memory.  “As in Dispater?” 

“Exactly.  Called the Lord of Dis, the Second Hell of Perdition, His Iron Grace, and many other names, Dispater is a Lord of one of the Nine Hells of Perdition. He controls the largest city in Hell, and encourages regular trade between his city and every other place in Creation, doing all he can to invite mortals and immortals from across the Cosmos. He may seem a harmless diplomat, but he is one of the oldest devils in existence and he is thoroughly evil.  He was one of the first malefircareim granted the status of Lord of Perdition by the Adversary.  It is this that makes him one of the most dangerous of the Adversary’s servants.”  Helena explained.

“Do you mean to suggest that Dispater is somehow involved in this?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t suggest anything, my good Evora.  I merely inform.”  Helena responded.  “My sources tell me many things, some true and some false.  The information I give is that which I have determined, based on my dealings with these creatures, to be truth.  When you deal with devils, you get lied to…a lot.” She lectured.  “Do with this information what you will.”

“But Cranston lives in a place called Demonclaw, a morbid rock jutting out of the ocean a few days’ journey from Soliel.  I suggest you go there and learn more from him about why he did what he did.” Helena suggested.

“That’s madness!” I exclaimed.  “If he has the power to summon and bind a succubus, he would tear us apart.” I continued, cheeks flushed with anger at the suggestion that we be sent on this fool’s errand.

“You misunderstand, Evora.  Cranston is not evil.  At least, he didn’t seem it when last I spoke with him.  I’m sure he has a good explanation for all of this.” Helena explained cheerily.

“A good explanation?” Shallahai finally spoke.  “You think he might have a good explanation for why he summoned a succubus to free the companion of a long dead lich, knowing full well that the first thing that creature would do is try to resurrect her master?”  Shallahai asked rhetorically.

“Well, yes.” Helena responded.

Shallahai merely stared at her.

“You do not think we would be put in danger by meeting with Cranston at Demonclaw?” Lilian asked Helena.  She looked at Balian as well.

“He’s harmless.” Balian responded.  Helena pointed at Balian and nodded her head encouragingly.

“Very well, then.  But I think we need to find out what the succubus is doing at the Brightstone Mines.  And now that Hu Li is back with us, I think we should do that forthwith.  It is, after all, on the way to Soliel.”  I mused aloud.

Talon stopped picking the skin off of the bottoms of his feet to look at me.  “We’re going back there?” He asked.

“We must stop that Succubus.” I replied with conviction.

Talon looked at me for a moment then nodded his head in agreement.

“Yuindr, could use another drink.” Shallahai added.

* * * *


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Sep 29, 2006)

Worth the wait, Canaan.

The plot is certainly thickening  ...  and the body count rising. Looking forward to more.


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## Canaan (Oct 4, 2006)

This is trolling, but its in my own storyhour thread and therefore acceptable 

I've noticed that we are getting about 50-60 views between updates, which is many more than we used to get.  I assume that means we have more interest of late in the trials and tribulations of these poor, poor PCs.

So I would like to know whether there is anything you feel is missing from this storyhour, anything you have questions about (other than unrevealed plot issues, of course), or anything you would like to see posted.  I would be happy to oblige.  I think someone asked about Talon's order, the Celind.  I have a write up of the Celind Order, if there is any interest in reading it.

The PCs, at this point in the story, are level 6-7.  This is a story hour about a current campaign.  But the story is tracking well behind the campaign.  In the campaign, the PCs are currently 19th level, after about a year and a half.

Some people have commented on the similarities to Sep's Tales of Wyre Campaign.  I did incorporate some concepts of his, but I tweaked many of them.  Some of you might recognize other similarities.  For example, Orolde, Balian's gnomish servant.  The name and personality are the same as that character in Sep's game.  But gnomes in this campaign are very earthy and not a PC race, harder and sullen.

The religion of the dominant god is mostly the same as that in Sep's tale.  The concept of the Green is the same, to the extent it has been developed thus far.  But the conflict between the Green and Canaan is much more pronounced in Turgos.  It is not quite like the times of Justinian -- I think that's the right Roman Emperer -- where Justinian converted to Christianity and ordered all pagans to convert or die.  But it's getting close.

Unlike in Sep's story, where Eadric inadvertently creates a schism, Evora has set out to create a new religion merging the two existing belief systems, while leaving the two Powers relatively in tact.  Of course, this has it's own consequences as will be discovered later in the story.

Evora is on the path of the Mystic Theurge (no levels in an arcanist class, yet).  This class is called the Theurgic Mystic in Turgos.  Theurgic Mystics are heretics unless officially sanctioned by the Church.  Evora is not officially sanctioned, instead seeking the fast and easy route to power.  This, of course, has branded him a heretic.  Evora's pangs of conscience arise from the conflict between adherence to Canaanism as taught by the Curia and his own internal beliefs and faith in Canaan.  Another conflict is in his desire to get the word out to all of the people about the new faith, without exposing them to persecution.

The Paladin in this story, Lilian Evenshire, has her own issues, mostly stemming from her faith and devotion to Canaan (she is a Paladin, moving into Favored Soul and Angelic Knight--I think) and her secular duty.  This has not come into play yet.  We are just getting into that part of the story.  Another turns out to be very personal, involving her parents, which has been hinted at in the story hour.

Talon's issues revolve around his order and its antithesis, the Mordind.  In the next few posts we should meet a Mordind.  There's a real mind-wrecker later in the story for our poor Talon....but we'll get there in good time.  Let's just say that in the current place in the campaign (not the story hour), Talon has lost all of his monk abilities....

Gabriel's issues are self-evident as they have been developed in the story hour.  But hope springs eternal.

Hu Li's tragic flaws are also pretty self-evident.  Surprisingly, this former PC has some staying power.

Since Shallahai's player frequents this thread, I'll let him explain Shallahai's issues and conflicts.  If any of my other players are on this thread, feel free to expound on any of this.

Well, that's enough for now.


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## Canaan (Oct 7, 2006)

*The Celind: As Talon's Master Teaches....*

These are the guidelines of the Celind Order as Talon has been taught.  

*Tenets and Strictures of the Celind Order*

1.	Never strike out in anger. Violence must always be tempered with wisdom. 

2.	Life is sacred. Death is natural. Neither should be created or destroyed lightly. 

3.	Show respect to your enemy, even as you deliver the killing blow.

4.	Never pollute the mind by willfully ingesting toxins that might sap your will and cloud your thoughts. 

5.	Avoid excesses of food that might pollute the body. 

6.	Strong emotions can cloud your thoughts and lead you astray. You must always keep your mind clear and focused. 

7.	Do not seek greatness. Simply strive to play your part as best you can. If it is time for greatness then the Green will give it unasked for. 

8.	Do not seek power for power’s sake.

9.	Do not fall to the temptation of immediate gratification at the expense of your goals. 

10.	The age of the Green is eternal, so have patience in all things. 

11.	Be respectful of other cultures at all times, but recognize that the only true law is the law of the Green.

12.	Your word is your bond. Never willfully break an oath you have willingly made. 

13.	Give aid to those that ask so long as doing so does not prevent a higher goal or violate the law of the Green. 

14.	Be a good example to others and gently guide them along the path to enlightenment.

15.	Do not marry or bear children. 



*Cosmology of the Celind*

In the beginning there was the Green, but like an infant she lacked self-awareness. The different aspects of her tugged against each other and thrashed about as they explored the limits of their being.

It was her chaotic aspect that first burst into existence, for it is chaos that most often spurs change. However no sooner did Chaos appear than Law was there to guide her path. The first moments were full of fits and starts with worlds being created and destroyed in an instant. Soon a balance of sorts was established, like a cosmic dance Chaos would lead, thrusting violently this way and that, but always with Law following and tempering the movement with grace. As they danced, the Green, like the trees for which she is named, began to grow. 

First Chaos experimented with creation and destruction by bringing the elements into being and pitting them against each other, but Law organized them into discrete planes of existence. Then Chaos tried to create an enormous abyssal expanse crafted in her image. She succeeded, but no sooner did the abyss pop into existence than did it shatter, forming a multiverse of planes, including planes of law to balance those of chaos. The first of the Old Ones were born at this time, breathing life into the Green and leading her to adolescence.

The Green’s chaotic nature was angered, feeling that Law had stolen her rightful property. Soon a series of wars began within the Green, each part of her trying to best the others, further fracturing existence. 

In time, the Green matured and found an inner peace. Law and Chaos, Good and Evil, realized that they were connected parts of a whole and that one could not act without the others. As the conflicts ensued, a new expanse was seeded at the intersection of the polarized worlds and it grew at an incredible rate. This new plane was built on a balanced foundation of all the aspects and elements. It is in this middle plane that we now reside.

Alas, the folly of her youth took on a life of it’s own and the consequences of that early age of the Green are felt still today. During the first war of aspects, Law, Chaos, Good and Evil created huge armies of powerful beings to fight their battles and, though the sisters are now at peace in the Green, many of their children are still around and still holding on to old grudges. 

The most powerful of the Old Ones claimed pieces of the outer planes as their domains. They remain locked in seemingly endless blood wars, never realizing the futility of their quests. Some of these beings are still worshiped in Shuuth today, known as the Sleeping Gods. And there is little doubt that Canaan too is one of the Old Ones.

The Green wishes to be whole and in time these fractured planes will rejoin our balanced middle world. The old ones will fade away and the need for conflict will subside. 



*Notes on teachings*

Celind may work with creatures of any alignment if it helps them meet their goals. Their lawful/neutral alignment is indicative of their extreme dedication to their philosophical ideals. It does not indicate a broader association with the aspect of Law. They have an appreciation for both law and chaos, in moderation. 

If careful consideration tells you that you must kill an enemy, and you have the power to do so more quickly and painlessly through the use of poison, ambush, or other “dirty”/”evil” tricks, then out of respect for your enemy dispatch them quickly. Celind see no inherent evil in the use of poison or surprise. 

Torture and unnecessary mutilation is frowned upon.

Celind are barred from marrying or having children of their own because the emotional attachments intrinsic to those relationships are likely to cloud their judgment. Friendships and sex are perfectly acceptable however, as long as appropriate mental and physical protection is used.

A Celind would not say he worships the Green. He merely sees the green for what she is and respects her existence. They do not really consider themselves to be a religious order. In today’s parlance they would be considered “godless.” They follow a philosophical ideal that they believe will bring enlightenment to them and the world at large. 

Celind do not deny themselves indulgences just for the sake of self-sacrifice. They do so only when said indulgences would distract them from their path, or when they think there is something to learn from the experience (like Talon’s brief vow of silence). 

Celind don’t want everyone to look alike, think alike and act alike. They appreciate diversity. Balance to the Celind means that things look smooth when observed from a distance. Short-term local fluctuations in the Green are natural and expected. This concept is subtle but central to the Celind’s way of life. If you look at the Green (AKA – the multiverse) as a whole, it currently has several large, sustained spikes of conflicting energies (AKA – the outer and inner planes) fracturing its surface and creating unnecessary conflict. The Celind believe that the Green, when looked at holistically, should be a smooth, placid surface. They believe it is the natural tendency and desire of the Green to reach that state. They believe that the only things preventing this from happening are the powerful wills of her children, the Old Ones. Celind also believe that if one of these spikes is increased its opposite will also increase, both pulling from the center. So none of the Old Ones can ever “win.” Every gain they make merely intensifies the conflict.  

Not to take this analogy too far, but Talon is afraid that Evora’s cathedral might play the Arborea to the Curia’s Mechanus. If we draw all the people who oppose the Curia to Brightstone, then we may inadvertently increase the Curia’s power in the central kingdom and intensify the conflict.

Celind typically follow the adage “think globally, act locally.” They don’t run out and try to save the multiverse. They are not seeking fame and glory. They trust that their wisdom and experience will allow them to see what ever path the Green has laid out for them. Talon would have been perfectly content spending his days in Goldfire Glen, tending to the local community. Just as a butterfly flapping its wings in Shuuth can cause a storm in Auros, Celind know that even the little things they do can have large impacts down the road.

Governing bodies and laws must exist in any large group in order to enable the basic functions of society. However, freedoms are important and should never be removed lightly. Celind don’t expect anyone else to share their beliefs, but they do expect their right to have those beliefs to be respected. They feel the Curia—with its inquisitors and templars—is a fundamentally corrupt organization, because it tries to impose a limited belief system on the masses through force. Talon’s whole thing with the separation of church and state is because he doesn’t want to give even the slightest impression that Brightstone Keep is to Evora’s church what the Curia is to Canaanism. True, each has the potential to become corrupt in its own right, but keeping them separate lessens the possibility of that occurring. 

Patience is a virtue. The Celind think on much longer timescales than most. They are happy to accept small defeats now if it means their ultimate goals will be met a generation from now. Sure, they’d love it if they could snap their fingers and make everything perfect, but they realize that enlightenment is worth waiting for.


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## Canaan (Oct 7, 2006)

*Chapter 28: Secrets Revealed*

Once again, we found ourselves traveling to Brightstone Keep.  By the time we arrived, over a week had passed from our last visit and the keep was desolate and quiet.

“Alright.  I suggest we enter the mines, find the Succubus and send her screaming back to Hell.  Perhaps then Helena can find out what it was she was doing here, just like she did with the goblin witchdoctor.  I will pray for the blessings of Canaan on all of us to gird us for the coming battle.” I said, taking the lead.

“I agree.” Lilian added.

“And I will summon the Eyeless Hollow Ones to eat her flesh.” Hu Li grinned.  Even when he was being helpful, I couldn’t help but see malice in Hu Li.  All he needed was a scaly, grimacing quasit to stroke and the picture of the perfect arch-villain would be complete.

“The Green is with us. This time, we will prevail.” Shallahai said, looking around the cliff top with black glowing eyes, the eyes of The Destroyer, he once explained to me.  I’m still trying to wrestle with and understand the druid’s strange ways, now that he has ‘evolved.’

“Focus on that blade you wield, Shallahai.” I told him. “That is your most potent weapon against the likes of Caladriel.”

His eyes still looking out over the cliff top, Shallahai distantly answered “I know.” 

“I cannot go in that mine.” Talon spoke.

We all looked at him. 

“I will not.” He said again.

Clearly he was unnerved.  I couldn’t possibly imagine what it would be like, the pain and suffering of being rent to death, and then to return to the place of that suffering.  Talon should be commended for coming this far.

“I understand Talon.  You should stay here.” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. To my surprise and consternation, he recoiled and almost hissed. 

“No, you do not understand, Evora.  None of us should go in there.  She is too powerful for us to defeat.  Would you needlessly throw your life away like this?” Talon asked.

“I do not go to my death, friend.” I responded.  “This Succubus must be stopped and we have the means of doing so.” I added, gesturing to _Yuindr_ at Shallahai’s side.  “But if it is Canaan’s will that I die this day, I have no choice but to accept that fate.” 

“You will not defeat her.” Talon said.

I must say that I was perplexed by Talon’s pessimism.  And if I was incorrect and he did not fear the return to this place, rather his hesitance was borne of defeatism, I was disappointed.  

“So you refrain from fighting because you believe it would result in our deaths?” I asked.

“Yes.” Talon responded.

“And you will not stand by us and fight, due to that belief?” I asked.

“Yes.” Talon responded.

“Yet you know that we will not heed your words, and we will do what we are called to do, what must be done?” I asked.

“Yes.” Talon responded.

“So this is what that order of yours teaches?  Abandon thy friends in their hour of need?” I asked rhetorically.

“It teaches that we should not idly throw our lives away.  If you insist on fighting a lost cause, I will not interfere.  But I will not join you either.” Talon responded calmly.

Anger seeped into me. I looked to Lilian for support, and I saw her fair mien showing signs of frustration.  Though it was unclear whether her frustration was aimed at Talon or me. I was about to lash out at Talon for what I concluded was nothing short of cowardice, but Lilian suddenly drew her sword. 

“It looks as though none of us will be given a choice in this matter” Lilian said looking at the mine entrance eighty or so feet away.  “Canaan! Grant me your shield!” She intoned as she was covered by Canaan’s _divine shield_.

Exiting the mine entrance was Caladriel and an entourage.  Another vrock demon was at her side and on her other side, a large Half-Orc, bedecked in robes, carrying a box covered in glyphs.  

Caladriel lazily gestured in our direction and the vrock’s wings violently flapped as it hurtled toward us.

Talon retreated to the interior of the keep.

I prayed to Canaan to _bless_ us.

Lilian, still mounted atop Damien from our travel to the keep, rode forward to distract and meet the vrock in battle.  “Canaan, infuse my blade with your power!” She cried out.  A white light emanated from her longsword, as it was made a _magic weapon_ by Canaan’s grace.

Hu Li made some incomprehensible noises and complex gestures with his fingers.  His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he entered a trance.

“The Heroes of Goldfire Glen return for more punishment, I see.” Caladriel smirked.  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we have what we came for and will be taking our leave.  The Axis of Annihilation awaits the arrival of the Wind Duke’s treasures.” She continued, gesturing to the box.  “We mustn’t keep them waiting, and the Kurjan is anxious to go.”

At that the Half-Orc spoke a word, put his hand on Caladriel’s shoulder and they disappeared.

“No!” I cried out, watching them disappear.

The vrock crashed into Lilian, but she was prepared.  Her blade sliced into its arm as it reached out to rake her across the breast.  Blood and ichor sprayed out as the vrock landed on Lilian, dislodging her from Damien in a grapple.

Talon climbed the stairs of one of the towers and stood atop the battlements watching the battle, arms folded across his chest in the sleeves of his robe.  I saw him standing there, a contemplative expression on his face.  Then a thread on one of his sleeves caught his attention.  He started pulling it.

_Yuindr_ flew into Shallahai’s hand as he charged the vrock demon.  “In the name of all that is natural in this world, I _smite_ thee, fiend!” Shallahai cried out as he drove Yuindr into the demon’s hide to the hilt.  A pulse of green flared out from the blade and into the vrock, desiccating it.  Weakened considerably, it lived on.  The vrock was strong, withstanding the effects of a _horrid wilting_.

But that attack was just what Lilian needed to be free of the demon’s grapple.  She rolled away from the vrock, kicking it as she tumbled.  Then she stood holding her blade and readying for the inevitable attack.

“Canaan!” I prayed.  “Imbue my weapon with your grace, allow me to penetrate the skin of this demon as easily as your light penetrates the darkness!”  My mace glowed white in response to the prayer; it was a _magic weapon_.

Hu Li’s strange clicking sounds stopped just as a white light appeared to his left.  It took shape as a _celestial dire wolf_ and immediately joined the attack on the vrock.  

With another intake of breath and a clicking sound, Hu Li pointed at the vrock demon and three magical globes pulsed out from his outstretched finger.  Hu Li's _magic missiles_ punched the vrock in the chest, wounding him further.

The wolf snarled and attempted to bite the demon’s thigh, but missed as the vrock maneuvered out of the way at the last second.

The demon screeched and a cloud of its deadly spores were released from its foul body.  Shallahai, Lilian, Damien and the dire wolf were all affected by them.

They screamed as the spores dug into their flesh, taking root.

I glanced back at Talon, a plea for aid on my mien.  But Talon kept pulling on the thread of his sleeve, his robe beginning to unravel, oblivious to our plight.

The vrock lunged at Lilian, but she was again ready.  As the demon prepared to wreck her with tooth and claw, she cried out, “In the name of Canaan, Lord of Light, I _smite_ thee, fiend of darkness!”  Her longsword flew down in an arc and penetrated the vrock’s thick hide like butter.  It bore down through its spine, breaking it.  The vrock fell over, unmoving.

Shallahai shook his head clear and sheathed _Yuindr_.

I looked around for other threats.  “Canaan, grant me the wisdom to see that which is hidden from me.” I prayed the prayer to purge invisibility.  But I saw nothing lurking nearby.

Hu Li’s dire wolf completely succumbed to the vile spores and blinked out of existence.

Shallahai prayed and a green light flared from the holes in his flesh where the spores had penetrated, completely healing his injuries.

Lilian did the same, as the white light of Canaan coursed through her body, the flesh knitted.

For good measure, I prayed over them both that Canaan would remove any lingering affliction with my prayer to _remove disease_.  Then I gave ministrations to Damien.

After everyone was attended to, Talon walked up to the group, his robe apparently mended.  I looked at it curiously, but said nothing.  I must admit that I was angry with the monk, and beginning to doubt the teachings of his Master.

“Well, Talon.  I see your tactical genius paid off, again.” Hu Li’s shrill and grating voice cut through the silence.

“She got away.” I said, exasperated, ignoring Hu Li’s outburst.

“We must make haste to this Demonclaw and confront Cranston.” Lilian said while mounting Lilian.

Damien began to trot toward Brightstone Keep.  Shallahai followed.  

I agreed.  If Cranston is willing to give us information, perhaps we can stop Caladriel.  We must make haste.

I mounted my own horse and Hu Li followed suit.  Talon merely walked, his pace easily equal to that of our horses.

* * * 

Our journey to Auros was materially uneventful, but spiritually awe-inspiring.  The road to Auros is sprinkled with farmsteads and small villages.  Every now and again, we caught a glimpse of the ivy and holly covered Canaanite Cross on doorways.  I was so filled with joy at the sight of these signs of change, that I could barely contain myself.

“Shallahai?” I asked “What is the word for marriage in the Old Tongue?”

“It is Mairist.” Shallahai replied.

“Ah. Thank you, my friend.  I think that shall be the name of the New Way, Mairistism; the marriage of the god and the goddess.” I said satisfied.

“My views on Canaan, as his followers in this land reflect him, aside Evora, I am pleased at your insightful and enlightened beliefs about him.” Shallahai began.

Shallahai had never before spoken to me about his feelings on this subject.

“I spoke with Master Baern and Talon’s Master about your teachings and the idea of the two being each a side of the same coin.  We agree in principle.  All things are of the Green, including Canaan.  Canaan could not exist without the Green.  And to unite the two beliefs, belief in the god and in the goddess, would unite the people of Turgos and would end the persecution of the followers of the goddess, and soften the step of the followers of the god.  While our views are not entirely yours, we approve of the message you are spreading.  And I will do what I can to assist you in this.”  Shallahai explained.  “You will have our support.” He added.

I was overjoyed at hearing this.  So much, that I took the opportunity at every village along the way to speak to the villagers of the unity of the mother and the father, just as I did at Goldfire Glen.  I showed the villagers how to make the Mairist cross, just like the one that Hanna had made for me.

The people of these villages seemed almost relieved to hear a Priest of Canaan espousing the virtues of worship of The Green and suggesting that the two be equally worshipped as they work together to make the lives of their followers better.  

I could feel the ground swell of support for this new religion.  And while the joy I felt was indescribable, as small part of me knew I must remain humble so as not to be corrupted by success and lose sight of purpose and message.  

* * * *

When we reached Auros, the gates were open and the guards recognized us, waving us through with smiles.  Our first order of business was to see the duke and inform him of our success at Brightstone Keep.  Although we had failed him, I also held out hope that Allustan was still in Auros so we could explain to him the magnitude of our failure.  Despite its initial seeming irrelevancy, it is now clear that the treasure in that Wind Duke’s tomb inside the mines is significant.

Leading our entourage, Lilian, astride her horse Damien, trotted up to the courtyard of the Ducal palace.   She hailed the guards, who immediately recognized Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan, and the rest of us Heroes of Goldfire Glen, and Saviors of the Exalted Child.  A page was quickly dispatched into the palace, and moments later a guard from inside the palace ushered us inside, explaining that the Duke and Duchess were having their breakfast tea in the west wing courtyard, and that we were to join them there.  

Lilian dismounted and dismissed Damien in a flash of white light.  There was a collective intake of breath as the guards, amazed, witnessed the miracle.  Hu Li and I dismounted also.  A page took our steeds to the stable, and another showed us the way to the Duke.  On the way, we stopped at an antechamber to wash after our long journey.

“Lady Lilian, it is good to see you again.  Evora, heroes, please join us.  The Duke rose, smiling, gesturing to the chairs around the table. I bowed respectfully and sat, as did the others; though Shallahai did not bow.

A servant brought us tea and biscuits.  “My lord, we have news from Brightstone Keep,” Lilian began.  “The humanoid presence there has been vanquished, orcs and trolls.  Your soldiers have all died.  A half-orc, calling itself the Kurjan, apparently led the force, and though it pains me to speak of it, he was assisted by a demon: a succubus.  The succubus had apparently enchanted several villagers and farmers from your land, and held them in thrall to do the Kurjan’s bidding in the Brightstone mines.”

The Duke seemed saddened by this news, but did not interrupt Lilian as she continued with her tale.

“We freed the peasants and farmers and fought the force in the mines.  Unfortunately, it proved too powerful for us to vanquish.  The succubus called another demon to her.  It eviscerated Talon.  Only by the might of the Green, through Shallahai, were we able to destroy the vrock.  We retreated.  Master Baern, the Druid of the Wiltangle Forest, restored life to Talon.  We knew we had to put a stop to whatever the succubus was up to, so we returned to the Keep to destroy her.  But as we battled yet another of her demonic allies, she and the Kurjan phased away with a box she said was the treasure of the Wind Dukes.” Lilian finished.

“I think that they _teleported_.” I added.

The Duke paused for a moment, taking in this news.  Then he looked to me.

“Demons at Brightstone Keep.  You are a priest of Canaan, Evora.  Is this a church matter?” He asked.  “Need I call in an Inquisitor or Exorcist?”

Something instinctual caught hold of me and I responded immediately and abruptly.  “No, my lord.  The Arch Mage Balian The Everwatchful has us on a mission to find and destroy this succubus.  Let us attempt that path.  If it fails, then we shall see.”  I let the last thought linger off.

The church would ask too many questions and would probably make life miserable for the poor peasants that were held prisoner at Brightstone Keep before their Inquisition on the matter was done.  And I feared the worst should that happen.  Mairistism was but an infant, weak and helpless.  It would be an easy matter for the church to crush it now, if it were to find out about its existence.  It’s better to keep them from wandering the peaceful agricultural villages of Auros where Mairistism is taking root.

“Well then.  You have done as you were commanded.” He told Lilian.  “I shall have a scribe prepare the proper paperwork to deed Brightstone Keep to you.”  He said smiling.  “But you will need to garrison it so that an invasion like this does not happen again.” He admonished the paladin.

“Of course, my lord.” Lilian said, bowing.  “I do have a question, however, Your Grace.”

“Yes.”  He responded.

“It was my understanding that only a noble could own land in the kingdom.  How is it that I, a mere ward of the church, can own land?” Lilian inquired of the Duke.

“I am surprised by your question, Lilian.” The Duke began.  “For it bears a false premise.  Lilian, you are no mere ward of the church.” 

All eyes were on the Duke.

“The Evenshires, your parents, were the hereditary Baron and Baroness of Tyrond, the Barony in which Goldfire Glen is situated.  Once they were killed and you and your brother became wards of the church, your lands were taken from you, by right of the Regent.  But your title?  That is yours.  And nobody can take that away from you.  You are Lilian Evenshire, Sixth Baroness of Tyrond.  And as such, you may hold land in the kingdom.”  The Duke finished with a smile.

Nobody was more shocked than Lilian.

“My lord, how can this be?” Lilian asked incredulously.  “Baron Guyere and Lady Syrilla are the Baron and Baroness of Tyrond.”

“Not quite.” The Duke said.  “The Regent gave over the lands and stewardship of Tyrond to Guyere and Syrilla when you and your brother became wards of the church.   Your brother, as a Priest of Canaan, can never claim that title again.  As part of his oath to Canaan, he cannot hold any earthly title.  But you Lilian, you will always have that title.  It is your birthright.  Guyere and Syrilla are pretenders to the title.  The Regent exceeded his authority when he granted them the title of Baron and Baroness of Tyrond.  He purported to divest you of your lands and title.  But he can never do that.  And I know of very few nobles that would support such a decision, for if the Regent did it once, he can do it again to anyone who displeases him.”  The Duke finished.

The duchess cleared her throat, displeased.  “If you will all excuse me.” She smiled politely and got up.  We rose and bowed and she departed the courtyard.

The duke looked after her for a moment.

Talon, who had been rubbing the Duke’s fine silken tablecloth against his check for most of the conversation, broke the silence.  “This is most interesting news.” 

“It is, indeed, Lilian.” I added.  “You are a Baroness.”  Reflecting on this revelation, more questions sprung to mind.  

“Your Grace,” I began.  “Guyere is a baron in your duchy.  He, like all of the other barons, is loyal to you, is he not?  A pretender he may be, but in that case, Lilian’s claim on the barony must create a conflict, does it not?”

The duke looked me full in the eye for a moment, as if measuring my intent.  He dismissed his servants from the courtyard, leaving only us, the duke and his house guard.  

“Guyere and Syrilla are lackeys for Malfoy.  They have no loyalty to me.  My outspokenness against the Regent and certain of his “reforms” to strengthen the Church of Canaan in Turgos is well known and has earned me some enmity.  Malfoy does not trust me.  So, when he had the opportunity, he installed a puppet baron, Guyere, in my duchy to ‘keep an eye on me.’  No. Guyere has no loyalty to me.”  The duke explained with disgust, taking a sip of his tea.

“Syrilla is worse.  Do you know of the Nightsong Guild?” The duke asked.

He was met with blank stares.

“The Nightsong Guild is an organization of rogues that the government, the church and rich nobles and merchants often employ to do the things that they would not or could not do.  Sometimes someone needs something to get done, but can’t do it legally due to the delay in getting approval for that action and the irreparable harm that would result in such delay.  The Nightsong Guild is called in to accomplish what could not be accomplished by legal means.  Likewise, when action is required that goes beyond Canaanite Law, the church sometimes calls in the Nightsong Guild to get it done.  Now, everyone knows that this goes on and it is an accepted part of our society, provided everyone turns a blind eye.  And most everyone does turn a blind eye, because while the Nightsong Guild engages in illegal practices, its scope of services does not extend to capital crimes.  It does not, for example, engage in assassination or kidnapping.”  The duke explained.  Then he spoke more softly in a conspiratorial tone.

“There is, however, a highly secret organization that exists in Turgos.  One that is so morally irreprehensible that its members are not publicly known and access to it is only granted to the very powerful.  This organization, known only as The Black Hand, is made up of assassins and spies and murderers.  It is believed that whoever killed King Reynard and the Queen was a member of The Black Hand.  It is this organization of which Syrilla is rumored to be a member.”  He explained in hushed tones.

“So you see, I have no love for Guyere or Syrilla and they have none for me.” He finished.

“And you would like to see Baroness Evenshire running the Barony of Tyrond.” I stated more than asked.

“I would highly support her claim to that title, should she choose to make it.” The duke responded.  “But all good things in time.  She would need more support before making such a claim, which means she must become more visible to the nobility of Turgos.  As I said, I am not well liked in Malfoy’s court.  My public support of Lilian could be a detriment to her claim.” The duke explained further.

“This is all very interesting, but also very much irrelevant at this time.” Shallahai, who had remained silent during the entire meal, directed his comments to us.  “We have been charged with an important task, two to be exact.  A succubus is at large as is this Veshra, servant of Kharas’Vhoories.   Vanquishing these two threats are our priorities.” Shallahai reminded us.

“Yes, you are right, Shallahai.” Lilian agreed, nodding her head.  “We mustn’t get caught up in politics right now.  This is not the time.  My lord, I will reflect on what you have told me.  Thank you for your candidness and for your support.”  Lilian bowed to the duke.

A scribe entered the courtyard bearing a folded piece of parchment.  He placed it on the table in front of the duke and produced a piece of wax and small sliver of wood.  He caught the wood on fire using a candle from the table, while the duke inspected the document.  The servant turned to the duke for approval of the document’s contents.  The duke indicated assent to the scribe, and putting the wood to the candle, the scribe melted the wax on the folded document, sealing it shut.  The duke then placed his seal on the wax using his signet ring.  The scribe handed the parchment to Lilian.

“There you are, Lilian.  The deed to Brightstone Keep.  May you keep it safe and it you.” The duke smiled.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lilian responded, bowing.  Now we must be on our way.  The longer we dally, the more mischief the succubus will get up to.” Lilian continued.

“Maggio le vostre corse sono facili.”  The duke said, rising. “May thy journey be free of troubles.” He evoked the long dead tongue of the ancients who, so the story goes, tamed Turgos thousands of years ago. 

We all stood and said our goodbyes.

As we were leaving the palace, the duchess appeared from a side corridor.  She approached Lilian with a sorrowful expression.  She gently, but emphatically, held Lilian’s forearm.  “Lady Lilian, my husband… He means well.  But sometimes he lets politics get the better of him.”  Her expression was serious.  “Your mother was very kind to me once.  Unfortunately, I was not able to return the favor.  But I can to her daughter.  I do not wish to see you get caught up in political affairs.  Your path has been laid before you.  Your faith has been your guide.  Don’t stray from that path.  If politics lay in your path, let it come naturally.  Lead with your faith, Lilian.”  The duchess smiled then.

Lilian smiled and bowed slightly.  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

On the way out of town, we passed a tower, the only other structure in all of Auros that was taller than three stories.  It was round and thin and made entirely of obsidian.  It had some sort of ornate structure at its top and what appeared to be a flat surface.  As we passed it, a figure emerged from its reinforced steel door.  It was Helena.

“Hello friends.” She called after us.

We turned.

“Helena.” I greeted her.  “This is your tower?”

“Yes, it is.” She said, as she came toward us, wearing a traveling cloak and boots and carrying a backpack.  It was odd attire for Helena.  

“Where are you off to?” Shallahai asked.

“I’m coming with you.” She responded.

“Why?” I asked surprised.

“I fear that the succubus or those with which she has aligned herself has taken or may take an interest in you.  I seek to make sure they do not find you, should they begin looking for you.”  She explained.

“How will you do that?” Talon asked.

“A sorceress does not reveal her secrets lightly, monk.” She responded coyly.

“Well we would be most grateful for your company, Helena.” Lilian said, smiling.

“Good. Let’s be off then.  It is a full week’s journey to Soliel.” Helena directed.

* * * *

I was saddened that Allustan was not in Auros.  I desperately sought to consult with him about our discovery at Brightstone Mines.  It will have to wait.

With Canaan’s blessing, I was able to _create food and water_ to feed and provide drinking water during our journey.

Helena entertained us with stories of the history of Turgos.  Then, one evening, she told us a frightening tale. 

“I’m afraid Balian and I have not been completely forthcoming with you about Veshra and Kharas’Vhoories.” She began.  

That got our attention.

“Kharas’Vhoories is not just a long dead arcanist.  And he is not just a lich.”  She paused before continuing.  “Kharas’Vhoories is a god.”

“Preposterous!” I said.

“No Evora, it is true.” Helena insisted.  “Fifteen Hundred years ago he made a bid for godhood.  By many accounts he succeeded in that effort, but in doing so imprisoned himself until certain events are completed in a certain order that will free him.”  She continued.

“So, he’s an impotent being—something less than a god.” I said, considering her words.

“I can see that point of view.” Helena admitted.  “I suppose whether or not one considers Kharas’Vhoories a god is a matter of perspective.  But perspective does not change the fact that he is extremely powerful.”  She finished.

“If he is freed….” She let the thought drift away.

“You mentioned Veshra.  What of Veshra haven’t you told us?” Shallahai asked.

“Veshra is no mere lower order demon.  She is ancient and powerful and extremely intelligent.”  Helena leveled her gaze at Shallahai.  “I fear for you.” She whispered to all of us.  

* * * 

We parted company with Helena at the outskirts of Soliel.  She had told us to find the harbormaster and inquire of ships going out to sea.  We could secure passage on one of these vessels, though it might be pricey, Helena warned, as most captains will not take pleasure in the prospect of going to Demonclaw.

Given that Soliel was The White City, the City of Canaan, Shallahai decided it best if he not accompany us inside.  He told us somewhat enigmatically that he would meet us on the ship we hire.  He then disappeared into the woods.

We approached the gates of Soliel.  I said a silent prayer to Canaan that we be allowed entrance without a problem.  We passed the giant gates, the guards nodding to us.  Thank Canaan that we were not recognized.  Our taking the precaution of wearing traveling cloaks to hide our appearance as much as possible was well worth the effort.

Staying to the alleyways, we made our way to the harbor.  A quick conversation with the harbormaster and we found our ship and captain.  _Sweet Cheeks_, captained by Captain Rutherford.

“Ahoy, mateys!” Captain Rutherford greeted us with a toothy grin, well mostly toothy.  “What can I do ya fer? He asked, squinting one eye and examining our clothing.

“We seek passage, good captain, on your ship.” I told him, pulling back my cloak just enough to reveal my robes and holy symbol.

“Aye, Father.  And where ye be headin’?” He asked, looking at the others.

“To a place called Demonclaw.” I responded firmly.

A hawk landed on one of _Sweet Cheeks’s_ booms.

“Demonclaw?!” The captain sputtered.  “What business does the Curia have in that wretched place?” He asked.

“My business is my own, good captain.  And we will not be denied.  We have good coin.” I responded.

“Good coin, eh?  It will be 50 silver nobles per head if you expect me to take you to Demonclaw.  But I won’t be stickin’ ‘round there to pick ye up, ye hear?”

“Very well.” I said, accepting his first offer.

A look of surprise passed over the captain’s face, quickly replaced by a scowl.  “Come on, then.  What are ye waitin’ fer.  Get on board, landlubbers.  We leave in an hour.”  He turned and walked back up the loading plank to the ship.

We followed.

“How will we get back?” Lilian whispered to me.

“I don’t know.  But the harbor master said this was the only captain that would even dare sail to Demonclaw.  We don’t have a choice, really.” I responded in a whisper.

As we passed the boom, Talon asked, “Where’s Shallahai?”

The hawk sitting on the boom screeched.  We looked up and it winked at us.

“Ah.” Talon said.

About an hour later, we set sail for Demonclaw.  I have spent the last three days on this dreary vessel, _Sweet Cheeks_.  The trip has been uneventful.  I spent most of it writing this journal.  But we have become acquainted with _Sweet Cheeks’s_ first mate, Thaddeus Grothe.  Talon and he spent hours discussing philosophy.

We expect to arrive at Demonclaw tomorrow.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Oct 9, 2006)

Another entertaining and intriguing update, Canaan.

One question that comes to mind from your "background" posts: have you changed the "flavour" of the monk's powers? I recall a thread somehwere on these boards where someone was suggesting changing the name of the monk class and having its powers arise from the monk's ability to absorb or bond with spirits - thus ditching the rather oriental notion of ki. I wondered whether you'd gone down this or a similar road, as it seems to fit the concept of Celind being aligned with the Green


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## Canaan (Oct 9, 2006)

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Another entertaining and intriguing update, Canaan.
> 
> One question that comes to mind from your "background" posts: have you changed the "flavour" of the monk's powers? I recall a thread somehwere on these boards where someone was suggesting changing the name of the monk class and having its powers arise from the monk's ability to absorb or bond with spirits - thus ditching the rather oriental notion of ki. I wondered whether you'd gone down this or a similar road, as it seems to fit the concept of Celind being aligned with the Green




Thanks for the support, Biscuit!

To answer your question, I have indeed changed the "flavour" of the monk's powers.  They are basically Jedi.  The Green represents the "Force."  It is through focusing the energy of the Green and learning the ways of the Green that a monk betters himself; he gets closer to self-enlightenment by realizing he his an extension of the Green.  These powers can also be taken away by straying from that path.  The Mordind are essentially Sith Lords.

I was looking for something less traditional for the monk class, as I don't see the traditional concept of the monk fitting into this setting.  Since Talon's player is a HUGE Star Wars fan, and I already had the concept of the Green, I thought incorporating the path of the Jedi was a good fit.


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## Canaan (Oct 18, 2006)

*Chapter 29: Kranston & Caladriel*

Many months have past since I had the opportunity to commit ink to paper. Small victories have been overshadowed by devastating tragedy. At every turn the choices we have made have not just been wrong, but have routinely pitched us from one insurmountable corner to another from which the only means of escape has been by the intervening hands of those seemingly immune to the powers that routinely assail us. 

Helena, Balian, Kranston, the Autumn Queen, an enigmatic spirit from regions of madness known as the Far Realm calling herself Illyria. Without their intercession these words would not exist. We all would have passed on to our various rewards or sentences, never to return to a world consumed by strife and evil. A fate, I selfishly say, I would welcome. At least I would be at rest. Canaan, forgive me for my moment of weakness. Confession is good for the soul. I am but a man, weak, frail and prone to temptation, and I long for succor from my travails. It came to pass that I had been granted such respite, but it proved less than a moment under the gaze of eternity and my soul was wrenched from rest and into the body of Allustan, Mage of Diamond Lake in service of the Duke of Auros, who was himself slain by the devious machinery of the long dead Wind Dukes of A’aka.  

That story, however, must wait. 

I believe I last picked up this quill while aboard a ship headed for an audience with the wizard Kranston. His abode rested literally in the palm of an island named Demonclaw. The captain of the merchant vessel _Sweet Cheeks_, who’s name now escapes me, agreed only to take us to the island and that we would be on our own hence forth. 

Thaddeus Grothe, the Sweet Cheeks’s first mate, wishing to leave behind his life on the sea, agreed to accompany us to Demonclaw. He convinced us that he was not only a seasoned combatant, but an expert archer, a specialty our group desperately needed. A gangly boy of no more than a score of years, his flesh was leathered by his long exposure to the sea, his eyes, almond in shape as well as hue, continuously flickered at distant invisible targets that only they could detect. His hands were deeply calloused from, presumably, both the thick hemp of the masts’ ropes and his use of the bow. His long sun-bleached hair was kept off his browned face by a solitary scarf from which flowed a thick, matted and blotchy tail.  I wondered when last those locks had been properly sluiced. 

In any event, we had a warrior with us, and I was pleased. 

The morning of our final day on _Sweet Cheeks_, the captain called us to the deck. One of the shipmates pointed to the Eastern horizon. A mass of land hung above the water's surface on the distant edge of my vision. 

“That’s it!” Called the captain from behind his wheel. “That’s Demonclaw! We shall reach it by midday!” 

The crew readied a small row boat, he affectionately called the _Pink Pucker_, for us as the ship zeroed in on the island. I watched from the bow of the deck as the bizarre shape of the island drew into focus. I saw immediately how the island earned its eponym. The land mass sat atop a rocky, moss laden “wrist” from which sprouted a tree-strewn “palm” that grew long, thin fingers, twisting upwards and ending with sharp barren mountain peaks that, from a distance, appeared to be indigo claws. 

We boarded the _Pink Pucker_ and were roughly lowered into the calm waters. Thaddeous took control of the oars and steered us toward the island. Within an hour we found ourselves under the long shadows of the wide “fingers.” 

“Is there any means of egress that you know of, Thaddeous?” Lilian asked the boy. 

He shook his head “no.” “I have never been here.” He finally said. 

“I can understand why.” Talon said, his stoicism cracking a bit under the ominous façade of the island. “This does seem a very inhospitable place.” Talon’s fae-touched eyes were fixed on the finger just above us. His mouth dropped agape at the sheer magnitude of it. 

“Take us all around the arm.” I heard myself telling Thaddeous. “There must be stairs, a cave, a port… something.” 

Just then, Shallahai, still in hawk-form screeched and dove into the water while transmogrifying into a dolphin and took off at fast pace toward Demonclaw.  Dolphin-Shallahai returned minutes later, sticking its head above the surface of the water, shaking the _Pink Pucker_ violently from side to side.

"What are you telling us Shallahai?  Did you find an entrance, a port, stairs?" I asked.

Again, dolphin-Shallahai shook his head violently from side to side, indicating, I think, that he had not found a way in.

Dolphin-Shallahai swam into tempo with the little rowboat as we slowly rowed to the rock. The “wrist” was covered in thick sheets of brown and green algae that climbed up nearly thirty feet on all sides. 

Suddenly, dolphin-Shallahai, leapt out of the water transforming into the an eagle once more.  He swooped down and landed on my shoulder. Before any of us could react, he had climbed down my side and began tugging at the circle of rope that was fastened to my belt with his beak.

“Shallahai,” I said, understanding what he was trying to say. “That won’t be enough. Those outcroppings are too high up.” Shallahai shot me one of his wide eagle eyes in exasperation. I do believe that was the first time I ever witnessed an eagle sigh. 

“Do we have more rope?” Lilian said. Neither she nor Talon had any. 

“I’m sitting on some.” Thaddeous said, suddenly standing, which caused the _Pink Pucker_ to teeter back and forth. We all held on to prevent ourselves from being pitched over. “Sorry. I forgot I was using this coil as a seat.” 

It was well over a hundred feet. Adding my fifty, it was more than enough. 

Shallahai took hold of the bound ropes with his talons and flew straight up to the rocky finger. After a few minutes we saw him, back in his unearthly tree-man visage looking down at us. A moment later, the long rope fell, stretching out just inches above the planks of the _Pink Pucker_. 

Talon was the first to climb. With his impressive monk training, he did not climb as much as he levitated. With grace and effortlessness, he shot up, hand over hand, and within seconds traversed the whole of the rope and made it to the top. 

Hu Li went next and nearly toppled the small dingy trying to grap the rope.  Shallahai and Talon ended up dragging him through the water, screaming, while they pulled the length of rope until he was hoisted into the air and over the side of the stone precipice, sputtering the entire way.

Lilian was next to go. Encumbered as she was with her armor and blade, she could barely manage a few dozen feet before stopping and calling for aid. Shallahai and Talon responded by pulling the length of the rope until she was within arm’s reach and could be pulled onto the surface of the “finger” by Talon. 

Then I went and, having woefully inadequate arms for such a feat, I, too, had to be pulled up to the top.

Thaddeous, like Talon, had no trouble making the climb. His bow, quiver, and short blade secured, he made it to the “finger” without any show of struggle. 

Regrouped, we looked toward the center of the island. It was covered in gray heaps of long dead trees whose desiccated roots dug futilely into dusty ground. 

“I suggest we gravitate toward the center.” Lilian said with command. “I believe that is the most logical place where this Kranston’s abode will be.” 

We agreed and made off. 

We maneuvered off the “finger” and onto the dry “palm.” For several hours we slowly made our way toward the center. The entire island appeared to be long dead. 

Shallahai shuddered. “It is as if this would have been Wiltangle Forest’s fate had you not intervened.” 

“Indeed.” I said, envisioning the same thing.

“Look! There!” Cried Talon, pointing at the horizon. 

Up ahead, peaking over a crag, was a lumpy, but altogether constructed structure. As we grew closer, more of it came into view. 

It was as if this building had been pressed out of some aperture of madness. Balian may have been an eccentric, but at least his tower, dank and in desperate need of maintenance aside, was at least clearly a tower. The deed holder of this monstrosity was most assuredly cavorting with spirits whose homes were just on the edge of sanity. 

It was a manor of some kind. A staircase led down into a shallow crag toward what must be a door, but what spread out from that door was not clean, square, simple walls. It was as if there were walls, they were covered in bloated boils made all the more horrific by the countless sharp, thin jags that protruded from the blackened membranes. 

Talon dared to touch one as we closed in on the doorway. 

“Hm.” He said. “It feels just like wood.” 

The door, a tall thin solid sheet of bronze covered with depictions of every kind of debauchery imaginable, creaked open as we approached. 

Candle light flickered out onto the landing. A man, horribly gaunt and dressed in the heavy fineries of a head house servant approached us. He bore a mustache of two unusually long wisps of brown hair that undulated out from under his nose in a wavy line nearly two feet on either side. I wondered at the amount of wax required to keep those hairs so unnaturally erect. 

“May I help you?” The man snarled, his voice pinched and condescending. 

Lilian stepped forward. “I am Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan. We seek an audience with the Wizard Kranston. We have… questions for him.” 

A single eyebrow cocked up on the man’s narrow face. He opened his mouth to speak when a second voice rained down from above. 

“Guests?” It cried in an effeminate, lispy shrill. “We have guests?”

We all craned out necks upward to see the source of the voice. I found nothing.

“We have not had guests here in ages!” It continued. “Servant!” We heard two quick claps. “Make yourself useful! Prepare our best tea and dust off some crumpets! We have entertaining to do!” 

The servant beckoned for us to follow him. He turned to our left and trotted off toward a stone archway. 

Every inch of the foyer was covered with some semblance of gaudy art and every piece seemed dedicated to one subject; infernal creatures copulating. 

After the third for fourth attempt, I ceased in averting my eyes from the depictions, for no matter where my eyes looked away to, another sculpture, painting, mosaic or fresco more licentious than the last, gazed back at me. 

A moment before we reached the archway a door creaked open above. We turned to it to spot a wide staircase down a short corridor which lead up to the door. At the threshold stood a silhouette. 

“Servant!” The silhouette called. “Send them this way! This way! They don’t need to see the kitchen for Azzagrat’s sake!” 

The servant rolled his eyes and beckoned for us to move down to the staircase. Lilian was the first to comply and we all followed suit. 

As I climbed the stairs the silhouette all but leaped into a pool of candle light revealing an equally gaunt man as the servant, but whose face was oddly handsome and beautiful at the same time. The hair crowned a healthily tanned face in thin coils that rapped about themselves forming an inverted cone adding nearly a foot and a half to the figure’s height at its point. Bronze and gold bracelets dangled at the boney wrist of the man’s arm right arm. His left was behind his back.  He was dressed in appropriately tailored royal attire, but the colors were just shy of magenta and lilac. Given the baroque nature of the rest of the estate, he fit right in.

“I am Kranston!” He said with a wide, excited grin. “Welcome to my home!” He added with a flourish, revealing his other arm as he twirled. I gasped at the sight of it. Unlike the first arm I saw, which was all but void of musculature, the second was burly, chiseled and covered in scales so green they were almost black. The fingers ended with sharp claws painted fiery red. Had he grafted a devil’s arm to his body? What manner of creature was this Kranston?

After we dispensed with the appropriate pleasantries, we were led to the dining area and drank bitter tea and ate stale scones under light provided by a chandelier of twisting brass rods that snaked out from an opaque mass with no rhyme or reason from an opaque darkened mass some twenty feet above us. At the end of each rod flickered a small white candle. 

“So!” Kranston said at last. “What brings a priest of Canaan, a Champion of Canaan, a... thing of the Green, a monk and a strapping young lad to my humble abode?” 

Lilian immediately took control. 

“We understand you summoned a Succubus.” She said. Kranston gasped. 

“Well, I never! How dare you come here and accuse me of such…”

“Helena told us.” Lilian continued calmly but firmly. “There is no use denying it.”

Kranston grew silent. After a moment he nodded. 

“Very well. I admit it. But do not fret. She is entirely under my control.” 

“If that is the case.” I said. “Then you are in a good deal of trouble.” 

“Oh, posh!” Kranston said with a dismissive wave of his demonic arm. “I only summoned her for some information. That is all.” 

“Information on Kharas'Voorhies?” Lilian asked. 

“Yes.” The wizard sighed. “I just wanted to learn some of his secrets. That is all. It was for research only. Quite innocent, really.” 

“Why did you command Caladriel to release Kharas'Vorhies’s servant , Veshra?” I asked annoyed by the man’s irresponsibility. 

“As I said! To learn the old coot’s secrets! I told her to release the little imp and bring her back here.”

“And did she?” 

Kranston’s eyes focused on the bejeweled goblet in front of him. 

“I am still awaiting her return.” He mumbled.

“Veshra is on the loose.” Lilian said, swallowing a growing anger. “Caladriel disobeyed you. She has murdered many innocents. She almost destroyed my home at Goldfire Glen. You have much to answer to, warlock!”

Kranston took in a quick deep breath, offended.  Clutching his ruby necklace with his frail hand he corrected Lilian in a scathing tone.  "Well I never!  Young lady, I'll have you know that I am no warlock.  If I were, you'd have been dead where you stand long before I introduced myself.  Watch your tongue and mind your manners!"  He paused to compose himself after his outburst.   "I am an Acolyte of the Skin.  A wizard who experiments with creatures of the lower planes to learning the secrets to their powers.  NOT a warlock."

"Don't change the subject, wizard!" I chastised him.  Explain yourself.  Veshra is on the loose and nearly destroyed Lilian's home!" I continued pointing an accusing finger at him.

"But that’s not possible! She is under my control! She cannot!” His voice pitched several octaves above comfortable. 

“But she did.” Talon corrected. “Where is this succubus?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Kranston hollered, pounding the table. 

His servant entered the hall. 

”Is there a problem, master?” The servant asked. 

“Yes!” Kranston spat. “Fetch Caladriel’s contract and meet me in the summoning chamber!” 

The servant stiffly turned on his heels and trotted off. With great aplomb and melodramatics, Kranston led us down to his summoning chamber. 

Like the rest of the manor, the walls were covered in tasteless art pieces. One of the walls, however, was conspicuously covered by a deep burgundy curtain. I did not wish to know what lay beyond, what even this bizarre personality deemed unsuitable for display. 

The servant was waiting for us. As Kranston approached his servant presented him with a rolled up scroll. 

Shallahai suddenly stopped and did something I do not recall him ever doing before, nor since. 

He gasped. 

His eyes darted from the scroll in Kranston’s hand over to Lilian.

“Helena told us that this succubus goes by many names.” His eyes flashed to black and bore into Kranston. The wizard recoiled. “What is the name on the contract?” Shallahai demanded with a hiss.

Kranston’s hands shook as he unraveled the scroll. He turned it around to reveal the two signatures and splotch of blood at the bottom. The first was his. The second was the name “Caladriel.” 

“You incompetent fool!” Shallahai roared. “You arrogant amateur! You have been duped!” 

The druid closed in on the cowering wizard. I moved to intervene but was stopped by Kranston’s voice. It was suddenly commanding and firm. I turned to him and he was standing straight, matching Shallahai’s posture.

“Wait!” He demanded. “I shall make this right! Caladriel!” 

He called out. 

“Come to me! Now!” His hands flourished upwards. 

There was a hot rush of wind and a flash of light in one corner of the chamber. 

The light faded and in its place stood the very succubus who had taunting us for so long. She gasped and covered herself demurely when she saw us. Her whole demeanor was void of the usual arrogance she normally reserved for our meetings. 

An act, clearly, to throw off the wizard. 

“Master! Why have you summoned me here?” She cooed. 

“You have been a naughty girl.” Kranston said, his voice soft, but full of authority. 

“Me?” Caladriel answered with a dainty flutter of her lashes.

“Where is Veshra?” Kranston asked.

“I’m getting to it.” She answered. 

“Don’t lie to me! I know you released her.” 

“For you, yes.” 

“Then where is she?”

“She escaped. She wrenched free from me. She didn’t wish to return with me. She…”

“Lies!” Kranston roared.

“No, Master, I swear!” She pointed to Lilian. “It is she who is full of lies! That one! The hypocrite! The so-called Champion! She has been most mean to me! Most cruel! She does not understand!” 

The succubus morphed into the likeness of Lilian, though still naked. And though her wings suddenly vanished and her horns receded, her tail remained. I turned away as she began to pleasure herself with her demonic tail.

"Finally." Hu Li said with a wide satisfied grin, as his eyes locked on the infernal Lilian's nethers.  He looked like he was going to faint from the sheer pleasure of the experience.

“Enough!” Roared Shallahai. “You escaped last time, demon! By _Yuindr’s_ blade, it shall not happen again!” 

The familiar succubus instantly reasserted herself. Lilian’s visage faded away as the creature hissed and flew up to the ceiling. 

“Try stabbing me with that thing now!” She roared down. 

I suddenly remembered our archer. I turned to find him huddling with fear up against one of the corners of the room. I ran up to him as behind me I heard Kranston shout. “You’re not going anywhere!” 

I heard the wizard intone a few archaic words and instantly knew he had prevented her quick escape by yoking her with a _dimensional anchor_. 

Lilian called out to Canaan to infuse her blade with his divine power. 

I hurried up to Thaddeous. “Do not fear.” I said to him. “Canaan is with us. We shall prevail.” 

I then prayed to Canaan and touched the boy’s quiver, transforming all of his arrows into _magic weapons_.  “Strike true.” I said to him. “They will now pierce her demonic flesh. Have faith.”

The boy took hold of his bow and swiftly shot two arrows at the flying succubus. One hit home and sunk deep. She hissed and howled, searching for the offender. 

Having spotted him, she suddenly dove. I stood between her and the boy, readying my mace. 

She slashed out with her claws, but we both evaded her blows. She twisted back up to the roof, cackling. 

Kranston bounded under her. He held up his demonic arm and called out. 

“Be gone from this plane, demon! I am through with you!” 

The cackling instantly stopped. A chilling wind engulfed the room. A gray whirlwind appeared behind the succubus. She screamed with agony and rage, but to no avail. Barely a breath passed before she was sucked into the vortex, _banished_. It immediately collapsed and vanished. 

A palpable sigh fell over the chamber.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Oct 18, 2006)

Canaan said:
			
		

> Helena, Balian, Kranston, the Autumn Queen, an enigmatic spirit from regions of madness known as the Far Realm calling herself Illyria. Without their intercession these words would not exist. We all would have passed on to our various rewards or sentences, never to return to a world consumed by strife and evil. A fate, I selfishly say, I would welcome. At least I would be at rest. Canaan, forgive me for my moment of weakness. Confession is good for the soul. I am but a man, weak, frail and prone to temptation, and I long for succor from my travails. It came to pass that I had been granted such respite, but it proved less than a moment under the gaze of eternity and my soul was wrenched from rest and into the body of Allustan, Mage of Diamond Lake in service of the Duke of Auros, who was himself slain by the devious machinery of the long dead Wind Dukes of A’aka.
> 
> That story, however, must wait.




You, Sir, are a tease ...   

Another cracking update, and obviously much more goodness to come. I look forward to it immensely.

One quick question just to clarify that I haven't misread anything - Gabriel has remained in Goldfire Glen and not accompanied our heroes on this voyage?


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## Canaan (Oct 20, 2006)

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> You, Sir, are a tease ...
> 
> Another cracking update, and obviously much more goodness to come. I look forward to it immensely.
> 
> One quick question just to clarify that I haven't misread anything - Gabriel has remained in Goldfire Glen and not accompanied our heroes on this voyage?




Heheh, D'nemy's the tease.  This was mostly his post.  And let me tell you! lol!

A little bit of amusing trivia about this session....

The conversation between Kranston and Caladriel actually went on for quite some time.  I was acting out both of them and got so mixed up at one point I had to stop.  I looked around and all my players' mouths were agape.  I had been going on for like 15-20 minutes in monologue between one effeminate NPC to the other (one a man and the other a demoness) and rubbing myself seductively as I was acting out the succubus pleasuring herself with her tail. At one point, Hu Li's player's eyes DID roll back into his head and he nearly fainted.  It was all very hilarious.  As I stopped in confusion at some point, the players came out of their stupor as if they had just been watching a play.  lol!

Anyway, I asked D'nemy to write up that session because for the life of me I couldn't remember everything that was said.  I ad libbed the whole thing on the spot with no notes. lol!

To answer your question, Gabriel did indeed stay in Goldfire Glen to help rebuild it.  His player played Thaddeous, the archer, in this session.


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## iStrider (Nov 3, 2006)

Sorry it has taken me so long to get this posted but I have been very busy lately.

Here is some of Shallahai’s perspectives and how they have changed over the course of the campaign…

Shallahai is very gentle and quiet by nature.  He believes that all things originate from the Green and thus everything has a place in the world.  As such personal freedoms are important and should be maintained.  He did not care who people worshiped so long as others let him worship who he wanted in his own way.

Canaanites have always persecuted followers of the Green but Shallahai has always held the believe that violence was not the answer and should always be restrained except in the most dire of circumstances.  There is a tradeoff (or balancing point) for the persecution.  It has made followers of the green stronger and more dedicated.

Also, Shallahai has a duality about him.  He is typically very gentle and reserved.  However there is also a deep rage in him.  This has become a lot more pronounced after his reincarnation and transformation although at this point in the campaign only Yuindr has been able to bring out the rage that is in him.  

His name, the vision he had at his reincarnation, the blade Yuindr that he wields all play a significant roll in his life and the decisions he has made and will have to make in the future.

Name:  In Shallahai's order it is common for each Druid to choose a name from nature that suits him.  As such his name is very significant to the path he has taken.  Shallahai chose the name Shale (if you recall that was Shallahai's name at the beginning of the story hour).  Shale (the rock) is a hard rock that is formed from very soft materials (mud and sediment usually).  Additionally, Shale can be transformed into a much harder rock called slate.  This is the process Shallahai is going through.  

During his transformation Shallahai was shown a vision of what has been and what might be once again (or at least this is how Shallahai views it).  This has caused him to reformulated his view on the Canaanites, at least in part.  His tolerance for them has gone down considerably.  He WILL NOT allow the horrors committed by the army in the vision to happen again.  He will not let the balance to be disrupted like that.  It would be preferable to prevent them by finding a peaceful resolution to the tensions between the Green and Canaan however if that is not possible Shallahai will exercise any force necessary to maintain the balance.  The Green has grown tired of their interference and Shallahai is her answer to it.

Not wanting to give anything away in a future story hour update you will see what will happen once Shallahai’s rage is unleashed.

His biggest struggle is how to handle the Canaanites.  He believes that most worshipers of Canaan are good people but that the autocracy of the church is corrupt.  How does one bring peace and balance between worshipers of the Green and of Canaan when good people stand between him and the church?  He believes that Evora is the answer to this.  But will Evora be willing to openly stand against the church if needed?  How far will he be willing to go?  Only time will tell.


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## Canaan (Nov 6, 2006)

*Chapter 30: Wizards*

Thanks for the input istrider!  And now.......

for an update......

* * * 

"It's dreadful business, dealing with fiends." Kranston sighed, shaking his head.

"Then why bother." I said to, rather than asked, the wizard acidly.

Kranston looked at me with a slightly hurt expression tinged with guilt.  "You spoke to Helena about this business of my summoning the succubus before you came here?"

"Yes." Lilian responded.

The wizard winged.  "She mustn't know what happened here!"  Kranston clearly realized that we would likely be reporting the result of our efforts here to Helena.

"Why shouldn't we tell her, wizard?  It was your folly that set these events in motion in the first place." I retorted.

Thaddeous whimpered in the corner, his bow still in his shaking hand.

"I can help you." Kranston offered.

"How?" I asked, unconvinced.

"You tell me." Kranston responded.

I looked to Lilian.

"Caladriel took some artifacts of the Wind Dukes of Aaqa to an organization she called the Axis of Annihilation.  Have you heard of it?"  Lilian asked.

"Axis of Annihilation." Kranston started pensively, tapping his index finger to his chin.  "It sounds vaguely familiar, like I read a passage about it or something.  Follow me to the library, and I will consult my books."

***

After a few hours of study and a brief repast, Kranston revealed what he had learned.  "The Axis of Annihilation is a heretical and highly fractured cult that believes that it can raise Kharas'Vhoories by merging three of the Sleeping Gods into one great overgod.  It is made up of deranged and highly fringe worshippers of Lazbrall'Thull, the demon lord of slaughter and bloodletting; Nerull, the god of death and secrets; and Ba'al, the Lord of Avernus, the First Hell of Perdition.  Calling them 'worshippers' is something of a misnomer, for their dogma makes it clear that the process of merging the three gods will invariably snuff out their divine essences to fuel the ritual to breathe life into Kharas'Vhoories." Kranston explained.

"That's horrible." Lilian said.

"Quite." Kranston responded, sipping his tea.  He looked ridiculous holding the dainty handle of a fragile tea cup in his blackened, swollen demonic fingertips, pinky extended.

"Why don't the priesthoods of these Sleeping Gods end this heretical cult?" Shallahai asked.

"Because they do not know its membership.  The first art of subterfuge: hide in plain sight.  Am I correct?" Talon asked.

"That's quite astute of you, Talon.  Yes.  In fact, its members are so hidden that the mere existence of the cult is thought of by many to be sheer rumor." Kranston responded.

"What do you know of such things, Talon." I stated.  "You are an aesthetic."

"It is part of master's teachings.  We Celind used to have to hide in plain sight or risk assassination by our mortal enemies, the Mordind." Talon responded.

I couldn’t help but think this was more rubbish.  Why would the Mordind seek to assassinate the Celind, unless the Mordind were truly vile?  And if the Mordind were so truly vile, how would that reconcile with their asceticism?  For that matter, how would subterfuge reconcile with the asceticism of the Celind?  Each time I dig below the surface of Master’s teachings as revealed by Talon, I feel more uneasy.

"In any event, gentlemen, an additional reason exists as to why the priesthood or secular followers of the Sleeping Gods do not destroy the heretics in their own ranks.  That is because the worshippers of these particular Sleeping Gods would never voluntarily cooperate with each other to complete such a task, such is the vast difference in philosophy and teachings among them.  Ba'al is the master of diabolical tactics; a perfect specimen of orderly battle, bred to conduct warfare.  Lazbrall'Thull is his complete opposite; a creature driven by its own insatiable desire to kill, maim and torture in the most twisted ways imaginable with no foresight or plan.  It acts on whatever sadistic desire that catches its fancy.  And Nerull? well, Nerull does not share information." Kranston continued.

Lilian's brow furrowed for a moment, thinking.  She looked at me and at Shallahai and Talon.  "You know what we must do, don't you?"

I nodded my head.

"Don't say it, Lilian." Hu Li pleaded.

"We must stop the Axis of Annihilation from bringing back Kharas'Vhoories." Shallahai finished for her.

Hu Li winced.

I continued nodding my head.  While the mere thought of confronting a powerful and insane cult dedicated to such foul entities made me shudder, I knew that Canaan expected no less from me.  And though I had been charged with ferreting out the Adversarial plot against Canaan, stopping the return of Kharas'Vhoories to Turgos seemed somehow more pressing.

"Why us?" Talon asked.

We all looked at him, with various expressions.

"What do you mean, 'why us?'" I asked, annoyed.

"Wouldn't Balian or Helena be better equipped to confront this Axis of Annihilation, even Kranston for that matter?" Talon responded.

"A wizard commands great power, when prepared for battle, yes.  But a wizard needs to be able to work his magic without distraction.  A wizard would likely be slaughtered if alone against a large number of foes." Kranston answered Talon.

"More importantly, Balian has charged us with the task of destroying Veshra.  My bets are on the fact that Veshra is helping the Axis of Annihilation." Shallahai added.

"We don't even know where they are.  Where would we possibly begin to look for them?" I asked.

"That's where I can help." Kranston answered.

* * * *

Kranston beckoned us to follow him as he explained that using a spell he could probe our thoughts to get the image of The Kurjan who teleported from Brightstone Keep with the succubus and using that image, he could scry for him using the Mirror of Um-Jamhat.  As he said the last, we arrived at our destination, and with a flourish Kranston brought down the burgandy curtain that we passed on our way to Kranston's summoning chamber.  It revealed a mirror the height of the wall and nearly as wide.  It's frame was carved alabaster and contained bas relief visages of demons copulating.  They were actually moving!  I averted my eyes from the ghastly, unholy sight.

"This is the _Mirror of Um-Jamhat_, my friends.  In it, I can find anyone I put my mind to finding.  Once that person's visage appears in the mirror, you can step through the mirror to the location of that person.  It is truly a wonderful device." Kranston explained, beaming.

Hu Li drooled enviously.

I volunteered for the mind probe, not wishing to subject Shallahai, Talon, or Canaan-forbid Lilian, to probing by this bizarre wizard.  Soon the visage of The Kurjan appeared on the surface of the _Mirror of Um-Jamhat_.  "That's him!" Lilian cried out.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"It looks like he's in a cave." Hu Li said.

"No.  It's a mine." Shallahai corrected him.  

Several cowled figures were engaged in some sort of ritual involving ritual scarification.  The Kurjan was there, handing the box he was holding when he emerged from the mine entrance at Brightstone Keep to a woman in black robes whose eye sockets were empty.  Claw marks scarred the area of her face around her eyes.  The Kurjan bowed to her.

"They are performing a ritual." Shallahai continued.

"Are they at Brightstone Keep?" Talon asked.

"I don't think so." Shallahai responded.  "The candle light is shining off of the mineral in the walls.  It appears to be quartz or..." Shallahai trailed off for a moment, studying the image intently.  "They’re diamonds.  This is a diamond mine." Shallahai finished.

"There's only one place that can be." Kranston announced.  

We all looked at him.

"They are at Diamond Lake.  The only place known to have diamond mines in all of Turgos." Kranston finished dramatically.

"Diamond Lake." That's where Allustan is from, I said, thinking out loud.  Then it dawned on me.  "We have to warn him!" I said.

Kranston was already ahead of me.  He issued a sending to Allustan.

"You know Allustan?" I asked after the sending was away.  

"Oh yes. We go way back." Kranston responded nonchalantly.

The sending was unanswered.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, Lilian suggested.  "Why don't you scry him in the _Mirror of Um-Jamhat_."

"That would not likely result in success my dear.   He is obviously shielded from scrying."  Kranston responded with a little too much self-assurance.

Deducing a delicate situation, I offered an alternative suggestion.  "Can the mirror scry places, as well as people?" 

"Why yes.  I know where you are going with that priest.  I shall scry Allustan's tower in Diamond Lake.  Once its visage is on the surface of the mirror, you can walk through it to the tower." Kranston finished.

In no time, Kranston had Allustan's tower on the surface of the magical mirror.  We walked through it.  Lilian first, followed by Talon and Shallahai, followed by Hu Li--eyes closed.  I looked to Thaddeous, who was still visibly shaken by the fight with the succubus.  "Will you come with us?" I asked him.

He shook his head no, but did not speak.

I looked to Kranston.

"I can arrange for his safe passage to Soliel." Kranston assured me.

"Thank you for your help, Kranston." I said, as I turned to walk through the mirror to Diamond Lake.

“Evora.” Kranston beckoned.  

I turned back to face him.

“I must confide in you something.” Kranston said sheepishly.  “It is the reason I do not wish Helena to know of what has happened here, to know of my folly.”

“Go on.” I responded. 

“As you must know, Helena is a diabolist.  Her methods are similar to, but distinct from, mine.  We are colleagues of a sort.  Occasionally, we meet for tea and discuss arcana.  But more importantly, long ago, we had a bit of a romp.”  Kranston revealed.

“Oh.” I said, surprised that this arcanist actually ever bedded a woman.

He continued.  “So you see, it would be quite embarrassing to me if you were to explain to her that I lost control of a creature I thought I had compacted with.” 

“That’s understandable.” I said, thankful that he did not appear to have given any notice to my surprise.  

Annoyance flickered on his brow as he continued. “Besides, I have to have a word with her about that particular compact.”  And after a pause, he added.  “And I think it best if news traveled to her by my own mouth rather than by rumors or filtered through the prayers of Canaanites.” Kranston finished.

“Do not worry, Kranston.  We shall not divulge your secret to Helena.”  I assured the Arcanist with a tired smile and walked through the _Mirror of Um-Jahmat_ to Diamond Lake.

* * * *

It was raining in Diamond Lake.  Sheets of cold water poured from the early Autumn sky, drenching everything.  Allustan’s short, squat tower was just ahead, a solitary candle flickered in a window of its highest story a score of feet above the road.  We crossed the deserted muddy street in front of the walkway to Allustan’s abode.  Only the insane and the desperate would be out in this downpour, and as to which we were I was beginning to doubt.  Some part of me wished I had stayed in Goldfire Glen with Gabriel, healing its people and rebuilding its livelihood.  Oh Canaan, forgive me my weakness.

Covering my head with the cowl of my cloak, I followed the others to Allustan’s front door, being careful not to slip in the mud.

After the fourth set of knocks, the door finally opened.  A tall and proud-looking bearded man dressed in fine red robes answered the door, holding a candle in his free hand.  His graying hair was neatly combed and tied back in a braided ponytail with a leather strap.  It was clearly Allustan.  Even late in the evening at his own abode, he maintained that regal bearing I observed in Auros.

Allustan’s eyes widened at the sight of the Champion.  I pushed through the others to get to the front.  “Allustan!” I shouted above the wind and rain.  “It is I, Evora Faro.  We met in Auros at the Duke’s pleasure several weeks ago.  My friends and I, we come bearing dire news.”

His eyes never left the Champion.  “Come in! Come in!  By Canaan, it’s true!  The Champion has returned by the grace of Canaan!” Allustan exclaimed in disbelief as he made room for us to pass his threshold and waved us in.

After closing the heavy reinforced wooden door behind us, he turned.  “You must be freezing!  Come to my study.  I have a fire going.  You must warm yourselves before you catch your death.”  He quickly moved passed, leading us up a stone staircase around the inside wall of his tower to the second floor and his study.  A whirlwind of activity ensued.

Once inside, we removed our soaking wet outer garments and warmed them by the fire.  Allustan brought blankets for us and sat in a nearby overstuffed chair.  His servant brought us cups of hot mulled cider.  Allustan’s eyes were still full of wonder at the sight of Lilian, alive.

I was quite impressed by Allustan’s tower.  It was tastefully modest, unlike the crass opulence of Kranston’s diabolical abode.  And it was pristinely maintained, unlike Balian’s dilapidated tower.  I’ve always believed that you can tell a lot about a man by observing how he keeps his home.  I noted in Auros those many weeks ago that Allustan was the first wizard I had met that seemed at all “normal.”  Being in his home only solidified that feeling.  I felt very comfortable with Allustan.

“I received word from the Duke that the Voice and Will had indeed performed the miracle of resurrection and successfully returned Lilian Evenshire to our world.  But the knowing of a thing is nothing compared to the seeing of a thing.  Remarkable.” Allustan said, examining Lilian. 

All of his fuss was clearly making Lilian uncomfortable.

“Allustan, much has happened since then and we bring terrible news.”  I stated firmly.

“Yes. Yes.  Of course.”  He fixed his full attention on me.

I told Allustan of our efforts to return Shale to us and explained that the creature standing before him is Shale reincarnated as Shallahai.  I detailed our efforts to take Brightstone Keep.  And finished with the Succubus and The Kurjan teleporting away with the treasures of the Wind Dukes and our confrontation with Kranston and Caladriel.

“So you see, Allustan.  According to the _Mirror of Um-Jahmat_, The Kurjan brought the Wind Duke’s treasures here to Diamond Lake and is presently in a diamond mine near here.”  I finished the tale.

“Impossible!” Allustan responded in disbelief after I had finished.  “After all of these years, the treasure of the Wind Dukes is right under my nose.  And their tomb has been ransacked by a demon and a Half-Orc!”  Allustan’s face was flushed.

“I’m afraid your prediction may have been accurate, Allustan.  It does indeed appear that someone is trying to bring back Kharas’Voorhies.”  I continued.

Allustan recovered from his outburst.  The rational, composed wizard reasserted himself.  “This Axis of Annihilation must be stopped.  I fear that Turgos is not ready to fight Kharas’Voorhies.  Canaan’s followers have become soft.  The Green’s followers live in fear of Canaan’s.  The wizards are not united.”  Allustan paused pensively.

“Do you know the history of Kharas’Voorhies?” Allustan asked.

“My master bested him long ago.” Hu Li answered proudly.

“No. Canaan smote him.” Lilian corrected Hu Li.

“Not really, we don’t.” I answered.

Looking at Lilian and Hu Li, Allustan said.  “Actually, you are both wrong.”  Then he told us the story of Kharas’Voorhies.

“Mind you that my particular area of expertise is in the province of the Wind Dukes of Aaqa and the primordial spheres ruled by the elements.  But I was for a time an apprentice to Balian the Everwatchful and learned much of the time before.”

Allustan took a sip of his mulled cider before continuing.

“I do not know from where Kharas’Voorhies came, but it is clear from writings about him and rumor that he transcended mortality.  His true allegiance was to Nerull.  In fact, once he had tricked Orcus into granting him lichdom, Kharas’Voorhies revealed his allegiance to Nerull, the god of Death and Secrets.  He created a damned city; a safe haven for Nerull worshippers in the jungles of the Thassaline.  Centuries ago, Kharas’Voorhies sucked the souls out of every living being in that city to fuel a ritual designed to make him a god.  He only partially succeeded.”  Allustan paused again to take a sip of his mulled cider.

“I don’t know what happened back then, but its result was such that Kharas’Voorhies was unable to affect this world.  Then, three hundred years ago, his diabolic servant, Veshra, freed him.  Kharas’Voorhies was intent on subjugating Turgos and challenging Canaan directly.  It was then, for the first time in history, that the wizards of Turgos, led by Balian the Everwatchful, united to form the First Council of Wizards.  Balian convinced the Council of Wizards to stand together with the Church of Canaan to vanquish Kharas’Voorhies.  Balian and the other wizards reasoned that should Kharas’Voorhies prevail in his battle for Turgos, the Age of Worms would begin, snuffing out all life as we knew it.  Helena was the first to concur, and with her concurrence, several others joined the ranks.  Together, the Wizards of Turgos and the Canaanites defeated Kharas’Voorhies, but only temporarily.  They were unable to kill him, managing only to imprison him.”

“The wizards saw that their involvement in the affair between Canaan and Kharas’Voorhies was decisive of the victor.  But more importantly, the Canaanites did as well.  The Canaanites were too well aware of the power the wizards commanded.  The Wizards knew it would be only a matter of time before the Canaanites took it upon themselves to limit that power.  So, Balian preempted the Canaanites.  He convened a Second Council of Wizards, at which the Wizards of Turgos agreed to The Grand Injunction; a decree that prohibits a wizard from interfering in any way with matters of religion in Turgos.  The Grand Injunction was presented to the Voice and Will and ratified by the Curia.  That was the end of the matter.  But Balian was crafty.  He provided in the Injunction that the Wizards would police themselves.  And since there was no real vehicle for doing so, given that the wizards had no formal affiliation with one another, no wizard ever came up on charges of violating The Grand Injunction.  It was a win-win scenario for the wizards.”

We sat silently letting Allustan’s tale sink in.

“I had no idea that Balian was so involved in these historical events.”  Talon said after a moment.

“Yes.  I had thought him a selfish, eccentric, probably insane old coot.” Lilian added.

“Well, this explains why none of the wizards of the higher orders with which we have been conferring are involving themselves in these affairs.  It explains why Balian and Helena did not vanquish Veshra on their own and why they merely suggested the danger she represented and trusted us to go on our own out of our own sense of duty.” I said, thinking out loud.

“Well, it didn’t really happen that way.”  Lilian corrected me.  “I think Balian probably pushed us out the door, rather insistent that we find and vanquish Veshra.” Lilian continued.  “A blurring of the lines between violation of the Grand Injunction and acceptable behavior at the very least.” Lilian finished.

“I suppose you’re right, Lilian.”  I responded.  “But why the secrecy until now?  None of them—Balian, Helena or Kranston—told us the reason they did not get themselves involved was due this Grand Injunction.” I continued.

“That’s because we wizards don’t generally like to remind people of its existence.  Out of sight, out of mind.” Allustan said with a wink.

“Hu Li, did you know about this Injunction?” Shallahai asked questioningly.

“Perhaps.” Hu Li responded vaguely in his characteristically shrill voice.

“Of course he did.” I quickly countered.  “Don’t be fooled, Shallahai!  That’s why he refused to go to Soliel with us after the incident at Harpy Ruins that killed nearly all of us.” I continued angrily.

“I say, Allustan, what is the penalty for violation of The Grand Injunction?” I asked, turning to the arcanist.

“Death by burning at the stake in a public square.” Allustan responded.

“Of course it is.” I said cynically, turning back to Hu Li, who had lowered his gaze into his lap.

“Evora, let it go.” Lilian said soothingly.  “Canaan has a reason for everything.” She assured me.

“You are right, Lilian.  Forgive my outburst.” I said sheepishly.  It was now my turn to lower my gaze into my lap.

“Yes, perhaps Canaan had a reason for Talon’s tactical miscalculation at Harpy Ruins that nearly killed all of us.” Hu Li harrumphed, emboldened by my cowing.

I turned beet red, but held my tongue.

Talon raised a finger to correct Hu Li, but thought better of it as Shallahai’s cautioning gaze penetrated the young monk.

“You have all clearly been through much.” Alluston stated.  “But if you are intent on searching for The Kurjan and believe him to be in a diamond mine near here, the diamond mine is owned by Ragnolin Dourstone and is known as the Dourstone Mine.”

“What sort of man is this Ragnolin Dourstone.” Shallahai asked.

“He is no man, in fact, Shallahai.  He is a dwarf.” Allustan responded.

“Dwarf?  Did you say dwarf?” Hu Li asked incredulously.

“Yes.  Why?” Allustan responded.

“I thought them myth.” Hu Li shrilly responded.

“Oh no.  Dwarves are quite tangible.” Allustan assured Hu Li.  “This particular dwarf is extremely taciturn and greedy.  Normally, I would recommend that you obtain permission from him to enter his mine before you go investigating in it.  But in this case, we don’t know his where his allegiance lays.  For all we know, he is collecting rent from the Axis of Annihilation to rent space in his mine.”  Allustan finished sardonically.  

“No, in this case, I recommend that you investigate by means of stealth.”  Allustan advised.

“I should like to see this dwarf, nonetheless.” Hu Li announced.  “I have never seen a dwarf.”

“Hu Li does have a point.” Talon offered before any us could react.  “We might learn something about this dwarf’s allegiances, if we talked to him without tipping him off to the reason for our presence here.”  He continued.

“Will you be here when, Canaan willing, we return?” I asked Allustan.

“By all means.” Allustan responded.

“Then we shall return to you once we have completed our mission.” I said.  “May we spend the night here to prepare for our trials?” I asked.

“Of course, Evora.  My apprentice will see to your rooms.”  Allustan responded.

A nervous boy, perhaps 14 years old appeared in the doorway, wearing elegant red robes.  A few freckles marred his melanin deficient skin and his light-brown hair stood shock up, meticulously greased to remain in that position.  Coupled with his youthfulness, raised eyebrows and nervousness, the boy looked to be in a constant state of surprise.

“This is Austin Veradesex, my apprentice.” Allustan said, gesturing to the boy.  “He will take you now.”

We followed the apprentice up the stairs to the third and final floor of the squat tower. 

“I have heard that you are the Heroes of Goldfire Glen.  Is that true?” Austin asked.

“I suppose so.” Lilian responded.

“And many of you have died and been returned.” He said breathily, looking at Shallahai.

Shallahai nodded.

“It appears so.” Talon responded.

“That’s quite remarkable!  Sometimes I think of how incredible it would be to be a hero like yourselves.  But then I think of the danger and the dying.  It makes me happy that I have a warm bed and a good master looking after me.” Austin finished with a smile.

I looked at Austin.  “Never forget what you have here, Austin.  And don’t be too quick to leave the tutelage of such a learned sage and good man.”

That night I dreamed of Talon sticking a sword made of green energy into the gut of his master, killing him, and Lilian being consumed by darkness and taken by oblivion.  Bad omens preceding a worse day.


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## iStrider (Nov 8, 2006)

Thanks for another great update!  I am egger for the next one.


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## Canaan (Dec 10, 2006)

*Chapter 31: A Cold Reception*

Sorry this took us so long

********************************
I was aroused by a knock on my chamber door. I heard Austin’s cracking voice on the other side of the door. 

“Breakfast is served, Father Faro.” I heard through the cobwebs of my fatigue. “Your companions await you.” 

Though the rounded window above my bed nearly took up the whole of the wall, barely any light survived the battle with the warring storm clouds that had all but engulfed it. It may have just as well had been dusk. In the deep gray, I prayed to Canaan for his grace and then washed up and dressed. 

The rain had continued the entire night. The entire tower held a stench of mildew brought on by the ceaseless downpour. Over hot porridge and savory sausages, Allustan told us that we had arrived at Diamond Lake in the middle of its rainy season. For some reason, the season marked the time in which the mining Dwarves substantially increased the intensity of their work.

“It has something to do with a long held Dwarven belief that the heavy rain softens the earth even at great depths.” Allustan was telling us. “Of course, any dwarf worth his pick axe will tell you that is pure nonsense, but as with most traditions, it is not questioned, only followed.” 

After breakfast, Lilian, myself, Shallahai, Hu Li and Talon thanked the kindly wizard for his counsel and hospitality and as the rains began to let up just a hair, we left for the town of Diamond Lake to investigate the Dwarven mines in an attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of the Axis of Annihilation and put an end to their diablerie.  

	We stepped out from under Allustan’s protection and into the icy, stinging pummeling of the rains that continued to assault Diamond Lake and its surroundings. My toes and ankles froze as the inch deep water that had pooled over the stone path from the tower soaked through the cloth of my shoes. The numbness that instantly followed ironically jolted me to full alertness. We trudged over the drowned path barely speaking. Hu Li spat and cursed to himself letting out several incoherent, spite-ridden diatribes that I endeavored to ignore.

	After some time the smooth stone path gave way to a muddy one. My feet sank in the cold muck, swallowed up to just above my ankles. Weighed down by her armor, Lilian’s progress was even slower. I maneuvered over to her, took her by the arm, and draped it over my shoulder in an effort to ease her burden. I fear it only succeeded in slowly both of us down even further. I am neither athlete nor warrior and have precious little physical strength to spare. Even so, and may Canaan forgive me for my weakness, I admit to savoring aiding the Champion, if only to steal a few moments of closeness. 

	Shallahai and Talon ignored us, the downpour and the muddy terrain. They seemed to glide over the ground, moving as swiftly as if the ground were dry as desert sands. 

	Hu Li had stopped and was bent over a few paces in front of us. His back was to me and he looked as if he was in the midst of a retch, but as I approached I could hear him muttering merrily. 

“Oh, yes spawns of the Eyeless Hollow Ones.” He clapped and chirped. The joy in his voice unsettled me. “Slither forth into the gray and breathe in the bitterness I feel. Your presence here is most soothing. I thank thee for this gift.” 

He was gesturing over a small clump of earthworms that had slid out of the softened dirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked, more curtly than I had anticipated. 

Hu Li instantly stood up and shot me a wicked glare that portrayed both embarrassment and indignation. 

“As if you had any chance whatsoever of grasping anything of worth, Priest!” He shouted and clumsily stomped off, digging shallow wells in the mud with each labored step. 

Lilian and I exchanged glances and she shrugged her shoulder. 

	We trudged on for what felt like days, though in truth it was not much more than a few hours. The sky clung to its somber mood, refusing to break from its onslaught. The only saving grace was that there was little to no wind. I thanked Canaan for that, and no sooner had I done so, a solitary cone of golden light broke through the dreary cloud cover. Lilian and I gasped at the beauty of it. Within a few short minutes, the rain ceased and more tunnels of light bore through the wall of gray above us. 

	Hu Li, Shallahai and Talon had all stopped several yards in front of us. When we finally caught up with them I spotted a line of squat buildings huddling the shores of a vast, soot polluted but tranquil lake, beyond which loomed jagged mountains. Diamond Lake awaited us. 

	Soon after, we found ourselves near the outer perimeter of the dreary town. My legs were exhausted from the added burden of the pounds of mud that had accumulated around my feet and shins, but as we passed a warped wooden town marker, Canaan be praised, the muddy path morphed once again into rough stone.

	“I should be fine from here on, Evora.” Lilian said with an effort to hide her own exhaustion. “Thank you.” 

	I let her go and we heavily walked down the wet stones toward the first of a line of small, straw thatched huts that flanked the road. As we approached, Talon suddenly stopped and held up a hand. 

	“Do you hear that?” He muttered. A moment later a chill wind carried what sounded like lashing. 

	“A public punishment?” Hu Li asked with child-like anticipation. “Perhaps an execution!” 

	It was then that I spotted a man emerge from the shadow of one of the huts. He was dressed in gray tatters stained with splotches of blood. He was barefoot and most of his exposed flesh was covered in horrid boils. He held in one white knuckled hand a cat-of-nine-tails with which he repeatedly flogged himself. Misty clouds of blood and sweat puffed with the violence of each blow. 

	“Woe onto thee heathens!” He growled. “Woe onto all of Turgos who turn from Canaan’s light to take refuge in the Adversary’s lies!” 

	“Oh, this is good.” Hu Li grinned. “One of yours, Priest.” He added, turning to me with a dismissive, condescending scowl. 

	“And mine.” Lilian aptly corrected, burrowing a scowl of her own into the wizard. Hu Li’s pompous posturing evaporated at her gaze. His eyes and shoulders slumped. 

	The old hermit continued his wailing. 

	“I have seen the truth and it is bleak! Canaan cries for His flock, so lost and deceived they be!” 

	Lilian and I rushed up to the man. I prayed to Canaan for His healing grace, but when the man heard me and saw my hand reaching out for him, he recoiled.

	“No!” He shouted. “No! Do not take from me this yoke I bear! It is sin! It is blasphemy!”

	“I am a Priest of Canaan.” I said. “You need not do this.” 

“I too am a Priest of Canaan!” The man howled in reply. “And you are wrong! You need to take up the scourge. You, so blinded, so clouded, so arrogant. You all need to take up the scourge to drive out the demons that have buried themselves into your souls!” 

Anger and pity welled up inside me. What evils had befallen this man that he ended up in such a state? 

 “ Calm youself!” I commanded. Lilian stayed a step behind watching the scene in silence. “This, this… self pitying, self destruction is not His way.” 

	“I too am a Priest of Canaan!” The man howled. “And I say this is His will. His punishment for my sins and the sins of the world! Oh, the horrors I have seen. The mountain devils, these dwarves… They will rot Canaan’s creation from within. Oh! Woe! Woe unto me and all of Turgos!” 

	He was beyond consoling. I let him pass me and carry on down the street away from the city. I longed to follow him and calm his troubled mind and heal his ravaged body. Lilian, sensing my desire, placed a hand on my shoulder. 

	“Let him go, Evora.” He said. “Whatever demons he is wrestling with are his alone. We have more urgent matters to attend to.”

	She was right, of course. I acquiesced and rejoined our group. It was not long before we came upon the first sounds of civilization we had encountered since entering Diamond Lake. The noise led us to a dimly lit tavern. The door creaked loudly as Talon, the first to enter, pushed it open. 

	The air was warmed by a roaring fire from a square pit in its center, but a chill ran down my back as I caught the first harsh glares of the patrons. Covered in the soot of their labors, dark, yellowed eyes stared into us with the sharpness of stilettos. I wanted to turn about and seek aid in more hospitable environs, but Lilian’s voice stirred me from my moment of cowardice as she broke from our pack and strolled commandingly to the fire pit. 

	“Good day, noble serfs!” She called out. Eyes narrowed. One of the men sitting at the bar straightened as if being slapped about the cheek. “I am Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan. We have traveled…”

	“Canaan!” A particularly unpleasant looking miner shouted from one of the tables. He spit on the floorboards, a sooty phlegmy mass. I could see Hu Li, Shallahai and Talon turn their eyes to me. I swallowed my growing irritation. Hu Li undoubtedly sensed my inner turmoil, for I heard him stifle a chortle. 

	“What use do we have with _him_!” The man continued. “Friend to the daft, we say around here. God of Failures. Lord of Trash.” Others nodded their heads, grunting something that was akin to agreement. “Canaan gave up on this mudhole centuries ago.” Another man added. “So we did the neighborly thing and gave up on him.” Tired, cough laden laughter spread through the room. 

	“What do you find sacred then?” Lilian said in a raised voice that towered above their dismissive laughing. The tavern went silent. “If anything?” Lilian added with a stab in her tone.

	The man who first spoke got up out of his chair at the bar and moved closer to Lilian. I took hold of my mace’s pommel and matched his gait, reaching Lilian just as he did. The man turned to me and looked down at the Canaan Cross I bore. His lips curled upward like a hounds, revealing blackened, cavity ravaged teeth. 

	“Soliel swine.” He growled. “We’ll have none of your preaching here.”

	“We did not come to preach.” Lilian replied calmly. “We came to request entrance to the mine closest to the town. Who is its proprietor? We wish to speak with him.”

	“For what reason?” The man boldly asked.

	“That…” Lilian immediately answered with authority. “… is between us and the proprietor.” 

	A door squeaked open. All heads turned as a squat, but solid form appeared under the door frame. He was not much taller than Balian’s Gnome house servant, Orolde, but his build was far more imposing. His arms and legs were like stumps of oak trees. They were hidden under layers of richly decorated clothing that also masked a chain shirt that clinked as he strode forward to meet us. A long beard that covered up most of his stony face, grew to the floor. There was no doubt this was one of the fabled dwarves.

	“Then you wish to speak with me.” He said in a gravelly voice, staring up at Lilian with impassive brown eyes. “I am Ragnolin Dourstone. What is it that you want?”

	“May we speak in private?” Lilian calmly inquired.

	Ragnolin’s cheeks pushed the upper edges of his beard upward in what I concluded was a smile. 

	“Of course, my lady.” He said almost warmly. “But my time is short. And as you know… time is silver.”

	He lead up to a smaller room in the tavern. He sat behind a table in a chair custom built for one of his stature. The table was covered in piles of meticulously cleaned and collected raw silver nuggets. Copper scales and a large ledger awaited use. 

	“So, Champion of Canaan.” Ragnolin said. “What is it that you want?”

	Lilian spoke in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. 

	“There is a great evil that was taken up refuge in your mine, and we mean to eradicate it from Diamond Lake.” 

	A long silence ensued as Ragnolin took each of us in. His demeanor did not even flinch as he locked eyes with the strange, plant-like appearance of Shallahai. This was clearly a creature that had seen much and was not easily shook. His eyes returned to Lilian’s. 

	“Get out of my tavern.” He finally said, ice and malice dripping over his beard. “Get out of Diamond Lake. Go back to your accursed Turgos and leave us be while you still can. If you stay…” He finished his thought with a curt grunt and took up his ledger and a quill pen. He began taking notes. 

	Shallahai stepped forward. 

	“You are a fool.” He said with malice that equaled the dwarf’s. “You are blinded by the glint of gold and silver. It shall be your undoing.” 

	Ragnolin responded by dropping a few small silver nuggets on the copper scale and jotting the results down in his ledger.

	Outside the tavern, a much flummoxed Hu Li ranted. 

	“May the Eyeless Hollow Ones devour their whole race!” He bellowed. “They are not worth the excrement of a Dretch!” 

	We followed Lilian as she walked with determination down the narrow streets of Diamond Lake. After a few more incoherent curses, Hu Li at last fell silent. 

	“Lady Lilian.” Talon finally spoke. “Where are we headed?” 

	“To Ragnolin’s mine, of course.” She said. 

	“We mean to trespass, then?” I asked. “Simply burglar our way in?”

	Lilian nodded. “I sense great evil in that dwarf. I am convinced he is in league with the Axis and we can waste no time trying to parlay with him. We must act before we let another opportunity slip through our fingers.” 

	No one objected. We followed Lilian out to the edge of the town and up a stony path that snaked into the formidable mountains. Artifacts of earlier mining expeditions littered the way. Broken picks, warped, wheel-less carts, shattered bowls and twisted sieves served as improvised markers dictating we were headed in the right direction. 

	What I was expecting to meet in the sunless caverns of the dwarven mines was far tamer and less horrific than what truly awaiting us in the deep shadows. As I write this I am overwhelmed with the memory of what we endured under the mountain and I am still grateful to Canaan that more of us did not perish.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Dec 11, 2006)

Canaan said:
			
		

> Sorry this took us so long




Well, you can make up for it by making sure the next update arrives a bit quicker!   

It was worth waiting for ... keep up the good work.


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## iStrider (Dec 20, 2006)

Great update… I can not wait for the next one.


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## Canaan (Dec 31, 2006)

*Chapter 32: The Dark-Siders*

At last the steep stony mountain path began to level out. Talon lead the way, keeping several paces in front of myself, Lilian and Hu Li. Shallahai had transformed himself into a bird and flew gracefully far above us as we toiled up the path. 

	Talon stopped and waited for us to catch up. Shallahai roosted on a small outcropping on the side of a cliff nearby. Up ahead we all spotted what was undoubtedly the entrance to the mine. The mouth was only 6 feet tall, but spanned nearly 40 feet in width. The softened earth was scarred with tracks left from cart wheels, mule hooves and the boots of miners. 

Empty carts stood in a row to the west of the mine and we could smell the heavy stench of the mules’ manure wafting from a wooden stable just behind the carts. Other than the occasional irritated neighing the tethered mules emitted from their cells, all was quiet. Canaan’s grace was with us. We had arrived at a time when no miners were on duty. 

	Talon suddenly jerked his head toward the east. A muddy road snaked off behind a tall cliff just beyond the mine’s entrance. Talon turned to us and whispered. “Someone is coming.”

	Just then a solitary armored figure with a halberd slung lazily across his shoulders appeared and made his way toward the mine. He suddenly became alert as he saw us and deftly took hold of his halberd, lowered it threateningly. 

	“What business have you at Dourstone’s Mine?” He asked with authority, but there was something else in his tone, something oddly congenial and welcoming.

	“We seek passage into the mines.” Lilian answered striding forward, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. “We hail from Turgos and learned that a great evil resides in the mines. We mean to destroy it.”

	The guard watched her a moment and then dropped his stern demeanor. “You don’t want to go to the mines. You want to go to what’s under them.”  The guard said sagely.

	Lilian looked back at us as if for assurance she had heard him correctly.

	“You know what is in these caves?” I asked the guard. 

	He laughed. “Of course! We all do! We are hired to keep people, people like you, out so they can… do whatever it is they do down there. Dourstone’s been paid handsomely by those blokes. But me? I’d be better off a slave. At least slaves get fed. I have to take copper out of my wages to pay for the slop they call food up here.” 

	He spat at the ground. 

	Lilian strode forward. She moved in and spoke to the guard softly and conspiratorially.

	“How much do you require?” She asked the man, her face so close to his that I imagined her having to battle with his noxious breath. “How much to purchase your aid? We require a guide who can see us safely through the maze of caverns…”

	“One thousand gold coins.” The man abruptly interrupted. I was beyond shock. A thousand gold coins? That is more than most poor souls would see in a score of lifetimes. Lilian opened her mouth to counter the offer, but the man held up his gauntleted hand. 

	“That is my fare.” He said firmly. “Take it, or find some other fool to risk his livelihood and his life to aid you.” 

	Lilian nodded at the man and rejoined us. Hu Li was the first to respond to the guard’s demand. 

	“Let me transmogrify this mongoloid into gruel.” He snarled. “There should be enough of him to last us for days.” 

	“He is not evil.” Lilian told us. “He is little more than a slave, and by his tone, he is desperate to leave this place. This gold frees him, and he has the potential to go off and do good, rather than rot here protecting evil.” 

	“Not to mention we’ll be lost in those caves without his help.” I added. “What is gold to us? Give to Soliel what is theirs. Give to Canaan what is His.” 

	After more grumbling from Hu Li, which we ignored, we emptied our pouches. Shallahai and Talon had nothing of earthly value on their persons and, thus, could not contribute to this cause. Between the few hundred coins I carried, the small pile of gold in Lilian’s purse and the half dozen pearls Hu Li was willing to part with, we collected a worthy sum of just over nine hundred gold. 

	It proved to be sufficient and the guard agreed to be our guide into Dourstone’s mine. 

	“I will take you only to the shaft that leads to the temple.” The guard warned us.  “After that, I am taking this money and going on a very long holiday.”

	It was the last words he spoke to us. With our greedy stranger in the lead, we ventured into the cave. Several times he stopped us and maneuvered ahead, out of our view. Each time Hu Li shot us all a vexed look.

	“Ready yourselves.” He would hiss. “He means to betray us to his Masters.” 

	And then, just as the paranoid wizard finished, the guard would reappear and beckon us forward with a gesture of his hand. We would hurriedly follow. Talon noted to us later that, each time, he spotted the boots of other guards or dwarf miners turning corners to our left or right, timed perfectly so as to guarantee no chance of them either seeing or hearing us. 

	“This guard…” I told the ascetic. “… clearly earned his wage.” 

	After what felt like hours of this fox-ducking-from-the-hounds gambit, the guard brought us to a lonely, unassuming wooden lift. It was illuminated by four dim flickers of oil lamps that hung on wrought iron hooks that had been hammered into the roughly shorn walls. A thick coil of rope tethered the lift to an iron pulley.  

	Lilian turned to thank our guide for his service, but he was gone. Hu Li’s eyes narrowed into slits. 

	“He has gone to warn his allies.” He whispered. “We have been duped!” 

	Lilian and Talon both ignored the mage’s warning by bravely moving up to the lift. 

	“He did his job.” Shallahai said. “The rest is up to us.” 

	Hu Li harrumphed and opened his mouth to counter Shallahai’s call, but he was interrupted by Lilian’s voice.

	“We found the lift’s crank.” The Champion of Canaan said with command. “We go down.” 

	“My Lady…” Hu Li began, affecting a syrupy relish to his voice that failed to mask his cowardice. “Must we be so hasty? Must we, once again, go blindly into a…”

	“Yes.” Lilian said with such righteous and fearless determination that all heads turned to her.  She had the mien of a woman who had made up her mind and would not be argued with.  For a moment there was a palpable silence, and then Lilian took hold of the crank that lowered the lift. 

“Everyone on board.” She ordered. 

	We obeyed and gathered onto the wooden planks. Lilian turned the crank. We were slowly lowered down a narrow shaft that suddenly opened up into a wide, smooth cavern lit by blood red tongues of flames dancing within pools of brass braziers that lined the cavern floor. 

As eerie and unsettling was the light those braziers cast, I was quietly thankful for it, for nearly one third of the floor was occupied by a massive pool. It was filled to nearly overflowing by some unnamable black ooze. I feared if there had been no light, one of us would have undoubtedly fallen prey to the pool’s horrors. 

	No one spoke. The lift ended its descent and we parted from it. We were in the dead center of the cavern. The walls were surprisingly smooth and expertly crafted. Three corridors, one leading North, one East and one West, jutted out from the chambers. Each ended after only ten feet with a large iron door bearing a symbol. The pool took up the Southern portion of the chamber. In the dim light, and at the distance we stood, it was difficult to discern what each symbol was, but I had little doubt what one would be to devil tyrant Bael, one to the horrid sleeping god of death, Nerull and the last to the vile demon prince of bloodletting, Lazbrul’thul. 

	We had found it, the tri-temple of the Axis of Annihilation. 

	“Talon!” I heard Shallahai calling in a harsh whisper. I turned to see that the fey’s spirit within the monk had again taken hold. Talon had gone up to one of the braziers and stood transfixed and giddy by the chaotic ballet. Shallahai took a few steps over to him, but Lilian interceded. 

	“Leave him.” She said. I admit I was surprised by her suggestion. “Allow him a moment’s indulgence, lest he be continuously burdened by the spirits that haunt him, with no respite from their whispers. As he is lost to their song, let our remainder investigate these doors.”

	“Yes. Doors.” Hu Li mumbled just loud enough for me alone to hear. “I so love doors. We only ever find wonderful things behind doors. Wonderful, glorious, friendly…” 

	“Are you finished?” I asked. Hu Li’s chalky mien turned away from me. 

	“We are all finished.” He snarled. “This is folly.” 

	The sharp, steely ring of Lilian’s blade being liberated from its sheath filled the stone dome we found ourselves encased within.  

	 “We investigate each doorway, one at a time.” She said with authority. “Be alert. No doubt there will be traps and other surprises awaiting anyone…” 

“Stupid enough to come down here uninvited?” Hu Li finished her sentence with a satisfied titter.

 “What of Talon?” The wizard asked with incredulity, waving a thumb at the monk. “Do we just leave him to his show?” 

“Yes.” She said with finality.  “If his skills are required, we shall wrest him, but until then, we leave him alone.” 

	At that very moment, a voice, booming and shrill, filled the massive chamber without warning. The suddenness and volume of the noise was severe enough to bring Talon back to sobriety. 

	“Be off, then!” The voice said. Hu Li trembled. We all recognized it at once. It was Master Balian. “They await you! Go! GO! GO!” 

Was he speaking to us? To Hu Li? To me? Why was he down here in this pit of depravity? Was he secretly working at odds to us? These questions and countless more flashed like flickers of fireflies before me. 

	Hu Li had gone fetal, rocking back and forth on the dusty stone floor. 

	“Master! He calls!” He was almost chanting. “He calls me home! Away! Away! Away from this trough of idiocy! Take me! I am ready!” 

	Before any of us could react, a fleshy, puckered circular orifice appeared above us. It spun much like a child’s top, and as it did, a viscous slime bled from the center. The slime, as I recall with growing horror as I write this, did not so much splash when it hit the floor, but collected into chunky, turgid, pungent wads. Slowly, the edifice revealed a putrid, boil- bedecked sphincter that bubbled open and ejaculated a solitary figure, cocooned in taupe excrement. 

	An instant later, the nightmarish portal vanished, leaving its ooze-drowned charge on the cavern floor. It did not move.

	“Is it dead, then?” Hu Li asked, taking a step toward it. He recoiled and screamed like a harpy robbed of its mate as the man suddenly sat up, hacking out pounds of gray phlegm from his lungs. 

	I admit without shame that I shared Hu Li’s horror and was startled enough to recoil, myself. Talon, reclaimed by the intoxicating sighs of his faean proclivities, alone strode forward and bent over the figure. His eyes were lit with curiosity and wonder. 

	“And who are you?” He asked, his normally stoic voice suffering under the strain of his impish urges. “How did you get here? And what are you covered in? I say, I have never experienced such a potent perfume in all my days!” Talon then did something that forced me to clench my stomach in an effort to lock it down lest I let loose my distressed humours all about the cavern floor. He took a finger full of the waste and brought it up to his trembling proboscis and sniffed, deeply.

	“I am Feir’inj.” The man said, wiping slime from his lips. His accent was as thick as the gunk he sat in. I recognized it immediately. The last time I heard such a treatment of the Common tongue it was by the Shuuthian merchant who had purchased the Goldfire Glen shop from Tanner’s family, the one that we later learned was a _Succubus_.  “I am from Shuuth.” He continued, validating my memory. 

“I was sent here by a wizard named Balian. For what purpose I know not, only that he was insistent that you needed my aid.” 

He began to stand, but his sandaled foot slipped on some of the slime under him and he tottered. Luckily Talon had somehow grown lucid in the seconds that had passed and his lightening quick reflexes were sufficient to catch the stranger before he fell. 

Hu Li stepped forward, waving his arms in elaborate gestures that resembled mopping an oily floor. 

“_Beitir!_” He shouted his _prestidigitation_ and ghostly hands bearing buckets of water laden with rose petals appeared all around Feir’inj. The buckets upturned and the Shuuthian was showered by sweet scented arcane fluids. An instant later, the grime was gone from him, Talon and the floor. Even the smell had evaporated. Feir’inj checked his clothing, which consisted of a suit of brown leather armor, a deep green cloak, boots that rode up to his knees and a curved blade that rested in an ornately decorated leather sheath tethered to his belt. All were completely dry. 

“Thank you, wizard.” Feir’inj said with solemn appreciation. “You must be the Acolyte Hu Li, of whom Balian spoke.” He added. Hu Li gave the stranger a side long glance. 

	“I… could be....” He answered cautiously. “What did Balian say of this… Hu Li?” 

	Before Feir’inj could answer, Lilian stepped forward.

	“Balian’s wisdom has once again proved fortuitous.” She said, holding out her hand in welcome. Feir’inj looked at her hand for a brief moment as if it were the head of an adder, poised to strike, but then his features softened and he took her hand in his. “Well met, friend Feir’inj.” She continued as they shook hands. “We find ourselves, once again, facing down dangers that may prove beyond us. Any help you may provide in ensuring we succeed in our righteous endeavors is most humbly appreciated.” 

	The Champion of Canaan then released her hand from his and bowed. Feir’inj smiled and nodded. 

	“Though you are not skilled in the language of our people,” He said “Clearly, you are well versed in our customs. I most humbly answer your call, and pray that the Sleeping Gods may bless us and allow this lowly child of sand the means to aid you on your noble quest.

	He returned the bow. 

	“Great!” Hu Li spat. “If that’s all done, can we get on with this? I have books to read and things to summon!” 

	“One moment.” Shallahai tersely rebuked. “Forgive my prejudice, but the last of your ilk we had dealings with was, in truth, a _succubus_ disguised.” _The Green’s Answer _ moved in close to Feir’inj and his voice took on a deep, cruel, vengeful edge. “How do we know that you are not another masquerading fiend?” 

	“Because I would know.” Lilian said, irritation seeping through her usually regal and poised demeanor. “This man is not evil. He comes to aid us in our time of need.” 

	“I defer, Champion, to your counsel.” Shallahai said with a slight bow. “But I must make it known that I find all this far too convenient.” 

	“What manner of creature are you to judge me, simply by my mien?” Fier’inj asked, without a hint of offense. This Shuuthian was clearly a man of equal poise to Lilian. 

	“I am Her Servant, Her Answer to the Terrible Workings of Man and Fiend!” Shallahai said, turning back to the man, eyes black as pitch. 

	“You are the Heroes of Goldfire Glen.” Fier’inj said with sudden realization. “Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner. The journey I am on has been quite taxing. I am honored to meet you. I am your eternal servant.” He bowed deeply. 

	“If the stories I heard of your exploits be true, then we have a common enemy. The man you speak of, the shopkeeper, was a dear friend of my order, before he vanished without a trace. Word crept back to Shuuth that he had appeared in the Turgosian town of Goldfire Glen. That is why I was sent there to meet one who was once amongst your number. A one legged man named…”

	“Gabriel.” Lilian said, emotion creeping into her. “He is my brother.” 

“Yes. He spoke of you, fondly enough, as he did with the rest of you, though he was entangled by the vine as we say in my homeland.” 

	Lilian nodded. I lowered my eyes. Gabriel had fallen again to libations. 

	“He told me of the succubus and how it used my friend’s countenance to immure itself into the provinciality of your fair town, and how, after he was arrested for suspicious behavior in the wake of the massacre of Goldfire Glen, and rightfully incarcerated, it revealed its true likeness and vanished. He could tell me no more, but pointed me to Balian’s tower, saying the sage was a man of great knowledge, if questionable morals, and thus I went.” He continued. “I did enjoy an audience with this master, when it was suddenly cut short by his demand that I be sent here."  The stranger shuddered, "Before I could respond I was whisked into that abominable tunnel, of which I dare not speak.” 

	“The _succubus_…” Lilian said. “… was vanquished from Turgos, by our hand.” 

	The Shuuthian’s face lowered. 

	“That is good. It was necessary.” He said, oddly sad. “It means that the mystery of the fate of our friend remains so, and as Goldfire Glen was the only clue I had, the dismissal of the fiend means that the trail has come to an end. I fear I will never learn the truth.  I will return to my order and report my findings.” 

	Just then we heard the lift behind us let out a whine. It loudly squeaked and began to rise. Someone or something would soon be coming down.

	“Everyone.” Lilian ordered in a stern whisper. “Find a place to hide.” 

	We obeyed by scattering to the proverbial four winds. I found myself in a shadow drowned corridor on the Eastern side, which began on the outer lip of the braziers’ dancing red glow. The others vanished from my view. I prayed to Canaan for patience and strength. All fell silent, save for the creaking of the lift. 

	At last it ended its ascent. I could hear the pulley being locked into place. A moment later, I perceived the soft footfalls of several unseen creatures gathering on the planks of the lift. Then, as with we, the lift slowly creaked downward. In the crimson glow of the brazier fires I could see several men, all in black, tight-fitting robes. One in their number was garbed in a uniform identical in every detail as the others, save for its hue. This figure’s robe was blood red.  A device, similar in appearance to a narrow, unadorned wooden scroll tube, hung from a cloth belt around his midsection. 

	The red-robed figure was the first off the lift. The others seemed to treat him as their master or leader and waited for him to take a few strides before them, and then fell into two perfectly positioned lines behind him. They then silently marched off down the Western corridor. As they approached the door, it opened for them. As the last of their ranks cleared the doorway, it silently closed behind him.  I waited, my body squashed up against the cold stone wall, trying to stay within the protective blanket of shadow. Several minutes passed, none of us too keen on leaving the protective cover of darkness.  Then from the Western corridor, beyond the closed door, I heard the sound of a second heavy door being opened and then, again, closed. 

	I let out a sigh of relief, but it proved to be premature. The Western doorway suddenly burst open, revealing a massive brown bear, larger than anything I had ever seen. Its features were almost demonic. It bore painful looking ridges of bone that grew out of either side of its forehead and down its back. Its claws and teeth were much more pronounced and drizzled with saliva. It breathed in and its head swayed to and fro, as if searching. 

 I heard Hu Li’s panicked, soprano squeal. “What in name of the _Eyeless Hallow Ones _ is that?!” 

Shallahai and Fier’inj simultaneously answered the wizard. “_A dire bear_!” 

	A roar erupted out of the monstrous animal. I pushed myself from the wall and lowered my mace, praying to Canaan to infuse His might into it, transforming it into a magic weapon. The head of my mace glowed with divine power. 

	The roars intensified. I saw Lilian bound across the chamber racing for the bear. She was closely followed by the Shuuthian, who had drawn his saber. 

	I gathered up my courage and readied to leap forth when I heard a scratching on the stone walls behind and above me. 

	I turned to see the silhouettes of two horned creatures clinging to the walls nearly on top of me. They were almost human in likeness, but for the small pointed horns atop their brows and the bestial talons that curled from their elongated fingers and toes. Their feet clung to the walls as if on solid horizontal ground. 

	“Look, brother.” One said to the other, revealing gleaming, pearly teeth that were as sharp as newborn icicles. “A lightsider.” 

	The other giggled. 

	“Yes, fiends!” I answered. “I am a servant of Canaan, the Almighty! I come to enact justice upon you!” 

	“Canaan?” One of them grimaced. “He has no power here! Begone from this place before something unfortunate befalls you.” 

	The battle behind me raged on. I dare not look and allow these creatures to take advantage of my foible. I was thus committed to eradicating these beasts from the face of Turgos and I knew that the others, so engaged with the roaring aberration, would not know of this struggle. I would be forced to deal with these two alone. 

	I began to pray, summoning up Canaan’s will to smite these creatures with his righteousness. 

	The two unholy beasts laughed as I prayed, but I paid them no mind, so filled with Canaan’s blessed power that their guffaws were but wind to me. 

	Then, I was struck. My eyes wrenched open from the pain. Dark magics the likes of which I had never experienced coursed through me, tearing under my flesh, as if it were the pith of an orange being wrenched from its rind. I ignored the agony enough to finish my prayer and summon forth Canaan’s _spiritual weapon_. I instantly sent it hurtling at the creatures and it slashed at the shadows above me. 

	A cry of pain erupted from one of the creatures. I saw the other wave his hand in the direction of the gleaming sword I had just evoked. A blast of arcane energy shot forth from the fiend’s fingers. The blade was struck, and it shattered. 

	The other fiend fired down a purple and black beam at me. I was thrown to the floor, crippled by the searing blast of corrupted energy. The pain subsided enough for me to gather my wits. I began to pray, calling upon Canaan’s goodness to surround me with a _protection from evil_, but before I could enact it, I was struck with a third blast of pure evil, held as it was by the first beast, waiting for me to act, and then destroying all chance I had to shield me from further harm. 

	The pain proved too much and I let out a cry, thus disrupting my prayer and the divine power trickled away. 

	A fourth blast slammed into my chest. I felt no pain, as an all-consuming numbness enveloped me. All turned to black. The sounds of battle subsided. The cackles of the brothers faded. 

	I was lost to the world, brought to the brink of death by these warlock’s infernal _eldritch blasts_.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jan 5, 2007)

**Bangs table and applauds**

More please ....


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## iStrider (Jan 14, 2007)

Another excellent update!  I can’t wait for the next installment!


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## D'nemy (Jan 31, 2007)

The next chapter is on its way. I promise. I've been crazy busy with a couple of projects, but those are pretty much done, so now I can devote my time to getting this Story Hour up to date.

Thanks for your patience!

D'nemy


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## Canaan (Feb 3, 2007)

*Chapter 33: The Temple of Bael*

After swimming for countless moments in a sea of burning, lightless cold, I was hauled back to life by a stinging slash in my chest. My eyes opened onto dim, flickering scarlet torches. Alighted on my chest was a small, black feathered bird. I instantly recognized the instinctual indifference of Shallahai’s gaze in the bird’s eyes. It let out a short, curt chirp and then soared off me toward the deep shadows above. The druid, wildshaped as he was, had healed me. 

The burns left by the warlock’s blasts subsided. I quietly thanked the Green for Her intervention and rolled over to stand. As I did, my hand struck scaly flesh. I recoiled and crawled backward, hitting a wall. On the floor lay one of the fiendish brothers who had smote me with its blasts. Deep gashes oozed gelatinous blood from its throat and chest. The other warlock was nowhere to be seen.  	

A light passed over me, followed instantly by an ear-splitting squawk. I looked up to see, encased in a celestial glow, a hippogriff diving for the dire bear that had taken up the rest of my companions’ attention. Several other animals, dogs and wolves, similarly haloed, lunged and snapped at the monstrous bear. 

I gasped and immediately stood when I saw that Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan, had been grappled by the bear and was being continuously and horribly squeezed and mauled by it. 

Hu Li and Feir’inj, the Shuuthian Druid sent to aid us by Balian’s questionable, but nonetheless, affective magic, were gesticulating their hands in the manner of a puppeteer, sending their _summoned monsters_ into the fray. The hippogriff dug its formidable beak into the bear, tearing off a massive chunk of fur and flesh. 

The bear howled with pain and Lilian managed to push herself free from the creature’s grasp. I saw, with growing dread, that her armor was in tatters and caked with her own blood. She had little strength left and if this beast was not dealt with swiftly, she would be lost to us, again.

I called to Canaan, uttering a _prayer_ to aid my allies and confound our common enemy. 

It was then that I saw Talon burst out from the chaos of the fight. He leapt effortlessly into the air and landed square on the back of the bucking, howling dire bear. He struck at the beast with his fists. 

Lilian tried to run, but stumbled. We were all too far away to aid her, and the Western corridor, where the battle was being fought, was hopelessly clogged with the creatures summoned by Shallahai, Feir’inj and Hu Li. I could only look on as the bear ignored the monk’s blows and reached for Lilian, scooping her up into its massive arms to maul her again. She let out a short, pained scream, and then fell limp.

It was only then that the bear dropped her. I scrambled to my feet and called forth to Canaan. I had power enough left in me and planned well for the horrors we were destined to face. I therefore summoned forth a second _spiritual weapon_ and sent it slashing at the monstrous bear. 

Within moments the creature, beset as it was with the summoned hippogriff, the other called animals and Canaan’s fiery sword, was utterly destroyed and vanished in a puff of brown smoke. 

I raced forward, calling upon Canaan’s healing grace, and lay my hands upon the fallen Champion. Warmth poured from my hands and sank into her. Her bruises receded and she stirred. Shallahai in his natural form came about, a thin green aura surrounding him like a waterfall splitting over a rock, and bent over, and placed his hands upon a persistent wound on Lilian’s arm. It instantly healed. 

She stood, fully restored. She looked at both Shallahai and myself and smiled. 

“Thank you.” She said, and then suddenly turned toward the large door at the end of the hallway where the summoned dire bear once stood as guardian. Talon, too, bristled, and stared fixedly at the door. We all turned. My eyes were drawn to the horrid symbol of Bael emblazoned upon it, a curved sword dripping with blood. 

The heavy door pushed open without a sound. A solitary figure, garbed in a red robe stepped into the light. His face was masked by the shadows cast down from his hood. He stopped in mid-gait and his head turned directly to Talon.

“Let us pass.” The voice was a calm, confident baritone. “If thou refuse, to thy Maker we shall send thee.”  There was no trace of malice within it, only assurance that this figure would hold true to his promise. 

He accented his proposition by holding forth his hand. It was gauntleted with an ornate metallic half globe, not unlike the pommel of a rapier. Talon’s eyes widened at the sight of it. 

“_Mordind_.” Talon uncharacteristically gasped. 

There was a short hiss. It was followed by a low hum that accompanied a glowing blade forged entirely of red light that emerged from the globe. The blade pulsated with an energy the likes of which were entirely foreign to me. Time and circumstance would not afford me the luxury of inquiring as from what manner of magic this sword was crafted, as Talon leapt forth, eyes full of focus, arms and legs perfectly posed to tear this villain asunder. 

It was then, with Talon in mid-leap, that the Mordind moved back into the shadows beyond the door, only the red of his blade visible. In his stead, his disciples tumbled forward, effortlessly leaping over and around us. Before we could even react to their presence, we were surrounded. 

There were six in all. 

Talon landed under the archway of the door. Two disciples instantly flanked him. From the bosom of the shadows, the leader again spoke. 

“Talon.” He said. “When I last saw you, you were no more than a baby. How you have grown. We did not come to fight you, or your companions. Let us pass and we shall leave you to your quest. Impede us, and you are doomed.” 

“I will not suffer the existence of the Mordind.” Talon said in a solemn response. “I cannot. It is my duty to destroy you to the last.” 

“Careful, Talon.” The leader said, equally solemn and calm. “Lest your duty blind you to the truth.”

“Oh, shove it, you pansy!” Shouted Hu Li. “Get out of our way or be fed to the Eyeless Hollow Ones!” 

The wizard began chanting. 

The acolytes closed in around him, but everyone was ready. All at once, the hallway erupted with the cacophony of battle. Lilian leapt to Hu Li’s side and took the brunt of several blows that were meant for the wizard. 

The two acolytes on Talon both swept their legs out low and wide, catching their Celind foe by the back of his ankles. Talon was knocked off his feet and somersaulted violently to the floor. 

The spiritual weapon I had summoned to aid us in the battle against the dire bear still swirled above me. I sent it flying at one of the acolytes that threatened Talon. It swung wildly, but the skilled monk effortlessly evaded its blows. 

Hu Li completed his chant and an azure glow enveloped his hands as several _magic missiles_ fired forth slamming into one of the acolytes with tremendous force. The monk fell, dead. 

Behind Hu Li, Shallahai and Feir’inj were entangled in their own fight with the last two of the Mordind contingent. Both had their scimitars freed from their scabbards, clearly forgoing divine magic for a more martial tactic. All four were locked in a deadly circuitous dance of steel and flesh, weaving and hacking, but neither side gaining ground. 

Lilian kept close to Hu Li, protecting him from the remaining monk that threatened them both. She thrust and slashed her blade, slicing into the monk’s robe, but never hitting deeply enough to slay him. Her adversary swung a foot with blinding speed and stunning accuracy. It slammed into her chin. She reeled back, but managed to remain standing. 

I turned back to see Talon as he bound to his feet. He sliced his hand across the throat of one of the acolytes.  The throat cracked under the blow, and the head tilted horribly to one side. The defeated monk crumpled to the floor. The other one swung a foot at Talon’s head, hitting him squarely in the ear. Talon spun, but managed to remain standing. Blood gushed from his ear and spackled the wall behind him.

My _spiritual weapon_ slashed at the remaining monk on Talon. The shining, flame wreathed blade stabbed deeply, critically, into the back of the Mordind cultist. Its power spent, the blade vanished, but the wound was sufficient and the monk collapsed. 

Talon and I both turned to see the two monks threatening Shallahai and Feir’inj fall under the might of the two druids’ scimitars. Lilian, her face battered by the incessant blows of the monk still on her, finally managed to score a fatal blow with her sword. The monk spun violently out of control and death overcame him. 

We all then faced the Mordind leader. The glowing red blade sunk back into the half globe clutched in his hand.

“Surrender!” Talon commanded with uncharacteristic aggression. 

“Now is not the time, Talon.” The leader said calmly. “We both have work to do.”

With that, he leapt up and outward, toward the wall to our left. His feet barely touched the wall before he sprung off to the right wall, and again, leapt to the left wall, deftly, quietly, gracefully bounding out of the hallway into the center chamber.

Talon tumbled after him, whisking by us with great speed. We all followed. By the time we reached the center chamber, the leader was at the elevator shaft. He turned back to us and before anyone could react, he flew straight upward, vanishing in the blackness above. 

Talon jumped onto the wooden lift, but Lilian had caught up with him. 

“Let him go, Talon.” She firmly stated. “He is not our reason for being down here. Focus on what must be done, now. Not on vengeance.”

Talon looked the Champion in the eye. 

“It is not vengeance that drives me.” He said, coldly. “It is duty. He is my enemy. He must be destroyed.” 

“Talon, listen to me.” Lilian pleaded. “We need you here. We need your help to cleanse this evil place. We cannot do it without you. What would your Master tell you?”

Talon lowered his head. His taut body relaxed as he took a long, deep breath. 

“Patience.” He finally whispered. “He would counsel patience.” 

“Yes.” Lilian answered, nodding. 

“Forgive me, Lilian.” Talon said. “I… forgot myself for a moment.”

“Are we all friends, again? Can we move on, now?” Hu Li whined. 

After I called upon Canaan’s healing grace to cure Lilian and Talon’s wounds, we returned to the hallway where the Mordind acolytes still lay. We ignored them and moved cautiously down the hall. Talon led the way with Lilian and myself behind him. Shallahai and Feir’inj, scimitars drawn, followed, which left Hu Li astern. 

Hollow. That was the overriding impression I recall as we walked down that crimson shadowed hall. We passed under the proscenium that, moments earlier, was guarded by the Mordind master. No one uttered a word. Even Hu Li’s whistling nostrils fell silent within the suffocating bosom of that oppressive air. 

Tales stretching back to the beginning of time tell of the seductive airs of the devils. How their countenance is always alluring, beautiful, intoxicating, and their whispered promises, tempting for even the most chaste and unflappable saints. As we walked down that dark corridor, inching our way to a black iron door at the end, which bore the symbol of Bael’s bleeding sword, all those stories evaporated from my mind. Here in the heart of a place held sacred to the disciples of the Devil Prince, all I could feel was an immense void and the desire to rebuke the emptiness with a shred of sunlight. 

How anyone could fall to the siren calls of the Hells after enduring such profound coldness and barrenness shall remain, until Canaan calls me home, a mystery to me. 

After Talon looked over the door and declared it free from traps, Lilian stepped forward and pushed on it. It creaked open. 

Red, yellow and orange light danced across the jam from within. We entered, weapons ready for anything that might leap from the deep shadows that battled with the thin tendrils of cavorting fire lights. 

Our eyes adjusted to the contrast and we beheld a massive temple of iron and stone, in the very center of which we stood. Some sixty feet above us a ledge hugged the walls on all sides. Sitting in a throne, flanked by two more fiendish men—warlocks like the brothers at the temple’s entrance—no doubt, sat a red-robed priest. 

His face was as thin and sallow as an onion’s fragile flesh. A sharp, black goatee stabbed out from his chin.  His head was as bald as an apple. His hands were lost under the waves of his heavy sleeves. He barely moved. His two minions did not move at all.

I looked around the rest of the ledge and saw no more than six robed figures, placed in strategic intervals along the wall. Their faces were shadowed by their hoods and they all bore wide curved bladed in their hands. Like the tieflings, these devotees to Bael stood like stone. Though they were all sixty feet above us, we were surrounded. 

“What is the meaning of this sacrilege?” The high priest bellowed from his chair. 

“We come in the name of Canaan to cleanse this unholy place!” I shouted back.

“How dare you?” The priest shot back, suddenly standing and glaring down at us. “This is a holy place! We have the right to pray as we see fit! We do not burst into your houses of worship and make threats against you! You…” He added pointing to me. “Priest, should understand this!” 

“You have sinned against Canaan!” Lilian shouted. “We come to enact His justice upon you and your whole wicked cabal!” 

“You enter into our hallowed halls, attack our disciples, our guests…”

“We were defending ourselves!” Lilian interrupted. 

“Silence!” The priest’s voice echoed throughout the chamber.

I refused to be cowed by this corrupt man. I stepped forward to challenge him, but was disrupted by Talon, who suddenly strode by me.  He gazed up at the priest and raised his palms.

“Great priest.” He said. “You are in league with the Axis of Annihilation. You seek the return of Kharas’Voorhies and this is something we cannot allow.” 

“Lies! All lies! I am a Priest of the Bael!” The priest shouted with great indignation. “I have nothing to do with those other two religions, save for the proximity of their temples. I do not follow or confer or in any way conspire with them. Their beliefs, frankly, are beneath the glory of Bael and I would sooner die than unite with those… misguided fools!”  

Talon bowed. 

“Enough blood has already been spilt.” He said “We have intruded without provocation and ask you to allow us to leave in peace.”

The priest’s lips pulled back into a cruel grin and he laughed. 

 “You are wise, monk, to advise against challenging me. You have no power here. You have no jurisdiction here! You are also outnumbered and your strength spent. I am a patient man, but I have my limits. Leave now and I shall be merciful. If you stay, you will be slain.” 

Talon merely bowed and turned to us, indicating urgently yet subtly with his eyes that we should leave.

“He’s right.” Hu Li’s voice was tinged with a panicky vibrato. “My spells are all used up. There are too many of them. We are no match for them in this condition. We should leave.” 

“Coward!” I let out in a harsh whisper that, to my surprise, filled the echoing chamber. 

“Evora.” Talon cautioned.  “Remember my lesson of earlier.  Patience.  Now is not the time.”  Talon whispered as he passed me.

“No, Evora, Hu Li is not a coward.” Lilian answered. I turned to her, dismay overcoming me. 

“But this priest must be stopped. What they’re doing here...” I said, not believing what I was hearing, searching for words to curtail Lilian’s sudden shift. Some small part of me understood where Talon was coming from and Hu Li was understandably a weak coward.  But Lilian, it is our duty to cleanse this place in Canaan’s name.  “Do not let fear cloud your resolve.”

“It is not fear. It is humility.” She said, sheathing her sword and walking away from us. “We go back to Allustan’s and seek his council. Coming here was hubris. Canaan forgive me, but this was a mistake.” 

We followed her out of the chamber. Shallahai matched her pace. 

“Lady Lilian, this is not like you.” He said. “You are bewitched. You are...”

“I am quite in control of my wits, Druid.” She said, an anger threatening to erupt from her. “Fighting them would be foolish! We would be throwing our lives away! Like Gabriel did. And he was punished for it!” 

“Canaan brought him back to us.” I said. “Surely that means…”

“You know nothing, Evora!” Lilian shouted as we cleared the hall and entered the center chamber. Lilian headed for the wooden lift. 

“Oh, bother.” Hu Li sputtered with irritation. “Here goes my last spell of the day. I hope you’re all happy! _Athair litrich_!” He commanded with a wave of his hand. I recognized the intonation. It was an abjuration to _dispel magic_, and he had directed it at Lilian. 

The air cracked and shimmered as an auburn rain descended over Lilian, grappling with the enchantment which held her in its sway. A violent second later, the two forces dissipated. 

The Champion stopped and held her head, swaying as if about to faint. Shallahai and Talon rushed to her. She was free. 

I looked to Hu Li with surprise and did not attempt to mask my delight. 

“What did you do, wizard?” Fier’inj asked. I startled at his deep, heavily accented baritone. He had been silent for so long. 

“What? Isn’t it obvious?” Hu Li huffed with arrogance. “She was under some kind of _suggestion_ and I removed it. Not that I was in any kind of disagreement with what she was saying, it’s just, well… didn’t seem right coming from her.” 

“Thank you, Hu Li.” I said, taking a step to him, arms outstretched. If his face had not crunched up with disgust at my gesture, I would have embraced him. 

“Something followed us.” Lilian suddenly said, pointing toward shadows at the edge of the doorway that led back to Bael’s temple. “It is there! I can sense it.” 

“Yes. I am here.” A voice, cold and sharp as sleet emitted from the shadows. “Yes. I followed you.” 

“Show yourself, villain!” I commanded. 

“I do not wish to.” It almost demurely hissed. “You will only attack me.” 

“As a Priest of Canaan, I command you!” I retorted. “Show yourself!” Though my words were bold, my heart was fracturing. I had no power left. I was no threat to this creature, but I could not allow this beast to toy with us. 

“We give you our word, we shall not attack you.” Lilian promised. 

“You attacked my brothers.” The voice quickly answered. “Why should I believe you?”

“We were provoked.” Lilian calmly responded. “We had no choice but to defend ourselves.”

“Why are we talking to this thing?” Hu Li whined. “It’s nothing more than a ploy to…” 

Hu Li abruptly stopped his rant as a figure removed itself from the deep shadows of the chamber. It was like the other half-fiends, tieflings if I remember my fiendish lore correctly, that almost destroyed us and served as Bael’s guardians. 

Its flesh, if one could call it flesh, was like a thin layer of coal barely sheathing a blacksmith’s enraged fire pit. Its eyes were yellow pools laced with ebony veins. Its nose was nearly flat, discernable only by two narrow slits that must have been its nostrils. Its lips were obfuscated by two twisted rows of dusty fangs. 

“Why are you leaving?” The beast asked. “The priest. He is weak. He can be defeated. I can help you.”

“Why would you want to help us?” Fier’inj asked with a growl in his voice. 

“I want to leave here. I…” The creature hesitated. He stood there fishing for words. “If you leave now… it will be too late… they will be gone… I… do not like what I am. What I am told I am. I wish to…” 

“You seek redemption.” I said. I felt everyone turn to me. “Nothing and no one is beyond salvation.” I ignored their stares and approached the tiefling. I placed a hand on his rocky flesh. His. Yes. In that moment this being was no longer an “it” to me. If he indeed had no soul, he sought one, and I could not refuse such a request. “Do you have a name?” 

The creature looked at me for a long silent moment. 

“They call me Rin.” He finally said. “Quickly. Let me show you. The priest, he is in his private quarters. He is vulnerable. Slay him and you can stop them. Come! Come!”

His voice was a whisper. He moved over to the wall back down the hallway toward the temple. He went half-way to the iron door and stopped. 

“Here.” He pushed on the stone wall and it slid back, revealing a short hallway ending in a narrow staircase leading up. “He is there. I will show you.” 

He hurried up the stairs. Lilian was the first to follow. I scrambled behind her. I could hear the others bounding just behind me. The stairway ended at a landing, then continued to the left. A few more strides and we were at a second landing. A small wooden door awaited us. 

Once we were all gathered, Rin pointed at the door. He nodded. Lilian approached the door, releasing her blade from its sheath. I readied my mace. Shallahai and Feir’inj brandished their scimitars. Talon readied. Hu Li stood back at the edge of the staircase. He gripped his staff tightly. 

Rin melted into the shadows. 

Lilian opened the door. Beyond was a large room. The first thing I saw was a bed covered in red sheets. The room was lit with more crimson torches. 

Standing by the bed, clothed in no more than his bedclothes, was the priest. His eyes widened with indignation at our entrance. 

“Acolytes!” He shouted as he reached behind him to grab a sword off the wall. “We are invaded yet again!” 

Lilian bounded to him with a war cry. The two locked swords with a great clang. 

A door to the left of the priest’s bed burst open. Four armed acolytes poured in. I met the first one with my mace. He slashed his sword at me, but my chain shirt deflected the blow. 

I retaliated with my mace, striking the disciple across his cheek. He spun halfway around before collapsing. 

Another acolyte was on me. One hand held his sword, while the free hand crackled with purple energy. He slammed his hand into my chest and my flesh tore open from the _inflict serious wounds_ spell. 

Just then Talon bound over me and the remaining three acolytes. He tumbled to the door, slamming it shut and sliding the bar across it. 

Feir’inj and Shallahai, side by side, hurtled toward the two acolytes before they could reach me. A chorus of scimitars and swords composed a vicious, impromptu operetta under the chaotic minuets of blood red torchlight. 

Hu Li remained outside the room. There was no sign of our new ally. In that moment I wondered if I had been deceived. But my fears were assuaged when a burst of purple and black energy fired out of a shadow and struck the acolyte in melee with me. The acolyte barely responded, struck dumb and numb by the eldritch power the coursed through his body. He stiffened, and then crumbled, tendrils of smoke wafting up from his smote body. 

The priest, locked in combat with Lilian, shuddered at the sight. His teeth clenched and his free hand enveloped with a grim power. He punched Lilian in the chest. She stumbled back, blood drizzling from the seams in her armor. I raced to her as she fell to the floor, staggered by the attack.

I had one useful spell left in me. Seeing Lilian almost perish from the priest’s viciousness forced me to use it. I called upon Canaan’s healing power to sanctify my allies with a _mass lesser vigor_. Though the healing would be slow and minimal, it may just be enough to stay death’s hand from clutching Lilian’s heart. 

My strategy was fortuitous, as I heard Feir’inj cringe from a deep wound one of the acolytes exacted upon him. Shallahai, too, suffered a great blow from his opponent. 

I could focus only on Lilian. Her fate was imminent. I positioned myself between her and the priest as he struck down with his sword. It was now infused with an unholy divine favor. The sword cut deep across my chest. I endeavored to ignore the potentially debilitating pain and countered the priest’s blow with my mace. In that moment I could see Lilian had scored at least one worthy hit on the villain, as his own blood stained his evening robes near his waist. 

My mace struck his chest. The priest reeled back, but remained standing. A moment later, he was lifted off the ground. Talon had leapt on the bed and seized him. There was a short struggle before the priest’s neck shattered under the monk’s relentlessness. 

Trapped and demoralized by their master’s defeat, the two remaining acolytes were soon vanquished by Feir’inj and Shallahai’s scimitars. 

We had no time to celebrate, however, as the door Talon had bolted heaved from a heavy blow from the other side. A cloud of splinters ruptured from its planks. 

Then Hu Li rushed in, panting, his chalky white face flushed with effort. 

“The other door…” He said between gasps. “At the bottom of the stairs… It was shut by two of those… warlocks. I saw them closing it myself. No doubt they’re waiting in ambush.” 

“Rin!” I called to the shadows. The tiefling emerged from a corner. “If you seek redemption, then prove yourself. Get us out of here!” 

Another blow at the door warped one of the planks. It nearly bent in two over the iron bar. 

“One more blow and that door shall be breached.” Feir’inj opined. “Quickly. Find something to bar their way.” 

“No.” Rin said. “That will only make escaping harder. Wait here. They do not know of my betrayal. Trust me. I will clear a path.” 

Before we could respond, he moved back into the shadows and was gone. 

The pounding beyond the door stopped. We all stood in the room, staring at each other in silence, waiting for Rin’s return. The healing power of the vigor passed. Lilian leaned on a wall, bruised and winded. Her own healing power exhausted, she would not last another skirmish. 

After several tense, soundless minutes, Rin reappeared at the landing by the staircase. Hu Li nearly jumped when he saw the fiend-blooded creature suddenly materialize. 

“Stop doing that!” The wizard demanded. 

“The way is clear.” Rin said. “Follow me.” 

“Good!” Hu Li spluttered. “Let’s get out of here!”

He bolted down the staircase. Talon, Shallahai and Feir’inj followed. 

Rin called out after them. “No! Wait! Through the temple! The other door is guarded!” 

Lilian and I looked to the tiefling and then each other. All three of us chased our companions down the staircase, but by the time we reached the lower doorway, it was too late. Hu Li had opened it. I saw two more tieflings just beyond the threshold. 

One let out an _eldritch blast_ that sent Hu Li flying back and up the staircase. I had to lunge to avoid being toppled by his flailing arms. 

So taken by the surprise, Talon, Feir’inj and Shallahai struggled to recover enough to respond. Lilian, however, was ready for the attack and she vaulted down the staircase passing the monk and two druids. 

But to my horror, the second warlock had readied for this and just before the Champion of Canaan reached the door, the Dark Sider’s palms exploded with evil energy. Lilian was struck in the chest. 

The remainder of the battle is clouded by my grief in remembering. I recall the door being closed. I recall being lead through the empty temple by Rin. I recall resting a few moments before ascending from the main chamber.  All I recall was the overwhelming sorrow at witnessing Lilian, blessed of Canaan, being slain yet again, and I being powerless to prevent it.


----------



## Canaan (Feb 14, 2007)

*Chapter 34: The Sphincter*

The angelic serenity of her face rivaled the most delicate of sculptures in The Great Temple of Soliel, even in death.  Lilian Evenshire could have been sleeping.  But the unmistakable rigidity of her limbs and the stillness of her breast, devoid of the deep rhythmic tempo of sleep, disabused me of that illusion, ripping me from fond reverie into the stark reality of the present.  And all I saw was death.

For the second time in as many months, my light, my friend, Lilian Evenshire, was dead.  And despite my most desperate desires, I knew in my heart that even if the Voice and Will were willing to return her to me, Lilian would never again walk in Turgos.  Few people have received the miracle of resurrection.  And none have been recorded as having received the miracle twice.  Lilian Evenshire lay dead; she was Champion of Canaan, Heroine of Goldfire Glen, Baroness of Tyrond and dear friend.  No gravestone would be sufficient to capture the person and deeds that were Lilian Evenshire, such selfless, patience and piety I had never before seen in one person.  I openly wept.  

Canaan forgive my impudence, but why wreak such agony?  To return life to Lilian only to take it away again just as swiftly and without purpose is cruel.  Can life truly be so insignificant?

It was silent for some time before anyone spoke.  Talon’s sandal scraped against the rough stone floor as he adjusted his sitting position.  “Lilian meant a lot to all of us.” He said as he got up, wiped a tear from his eye and walked away to sit apart from us, staring at the dark cavern wall.

"Why do you cry?" Rin, the Dark-Sider, questioned me.  

It was incongruous, his tone and question against his physical appearance.  Rin adjusted his stance slightly, with his cloven feet shoulder width apart and his tail swishing side to side.  This caused his charred skin, not unlike volcanic rock, to ripple revealing a reddish glow between the dry charcoal skin-like slabs that seeped between its cracks like a recent lava floe.  His horns, mere stubs of obsidian, protruded slightly from his forehead under which his brow was raised in genuine concern, which could be mistaken for malice if one focused too much on his yellow eyes that glowed like embers. It was laughable, but Rin had a childlike innocence about him.  Perhaps it was the shock of all that had just happened, but I was beginning to feel that this half-demon who had lived a life of treachery and evil, could be redeemed.  

"I am very sad.  Lilian was a good friend." I responded with a patient smile.

“She died with honor and glory.”  Rin responded.  

_What a profound thing coming from this creature!_  He must have noticed the open-mouthed expression of shock on my face.

“We have a saying among my people.  ‘Death does not discriminate.  It is neither good, nor evil.  It is merely inevitable.  The manner of death is all that matters.  No greater honor exists than to die serving that which you hold most sacred.’”  Rin placed a hand on my shoulder and walked past to examine the black pool.

Shallahai was there, gazing into its waters.  He heard the hard clacking of Rin’s approach.  “You know what evil lays in the depths of this pool.”  It was a statement more than a question.  By the cold emotionlessness of his tone, I was yet again reminded that the creature known as Shallahai was no longer human.  He was a force of nature as mutable as the weather.  “Are we safe here?” He accused the Warlock.

“From what lays in that pool, yes—unless you and your friends kill the other two High Priests of the Axis.”  Rin responded with a smirk.  

Shallahai nodded.  The cavernous chamber was silent as we sat in near darkness, each lost in thought, dwelling on our own inner demons or contemplating what step to take next.  A faint drip of water echoed off of one of the walls and faint torch light filtered in from above the hole in the ceiling at the top of the lift and at the doors to each of the three temples.  My staff added what little light it could to the dreary cave; it was just enough to keep the darkness from overwhelming that place.

“What does _that_ mean?” I interrupted brusquely.  

At my tone, Rin’s head turned toward me quickly.  I hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh.  “It is merely a rumor.”

“What?” I asked.

“It is said that If all three high priests are slain The Ebon Aspect will rise from this pool and exact vengeance on their slayers.”  Rin responded.

I nodded.

Fer’inj stood arms akimbo looking toward the ceiling at the lift.  "You need lift?  I get lift for you." He announced in his thick Shuuthian accent.  Closing his eyes and spreading his arms and fingers he morphed into the form of an eagle and flew to the top of the lift.  After a few moments the lift started back down. 

We loaded Lilian's corpse and the rest of us onto the lift and started raising it with the mechanism.  "Perhaps Allustan will have some advice on what to do." I stated to nobody in particular on the way up.  

Once again, I found myself relying on an arcanist.  But in these circumstances, I desperately hoped there was something he could do.  For I don't think I could bear it if Lilian Evenshire forever passed from my life.

* * * *

"How can this be?" Allustan asked incredulously as he waved us into his foyer.  "Lilian Evenshire has again passed from our reach." He continued, sad and perplexed as Talon carried her lifeless corpse and set it down on the flagstone.  Austin, who had been standing in the foyer, hastened to assist Talon.

Allustan glanced at the newcomers.  When he saw Rin, his face darkened.

"_You!_" Allustan said accusingly, pointing at Rin.  "I know what you are.  Your kind are not welcome in my tower." Allustan finished firmly, face flushed.  

Austin, taken aback at his master’s sudden change in tone, glanced at the half-fiend and nearly dropped Lilian, eyes widening as the realization that a fiendish creature was on his doorstep.  

“Be careful!” Talon warned.

"This is Rin, Allustan.  He saved our lives.  But for his intervention, more of us would have died today." I hurriedly explained in an effort to diffuse Allustan's anger.  I felt the need to protect Rin from such discrimination.  I suppose it was my idealism, my belief that even the most debauched individual could be redeemed.  Sometimes when I reflected on this idealistic streak, I found it awkward against my experience in the church as a young priest.  The Curia tolerated no slights against Canaan.  No sin was too small to punish.  So oppressive those days had felt.  And what freedom it was to approach absolution with acceptance—a path of love and peace.  It brought clarity to my life that lifted the haze of guilt the Curia instilled into me.  Even now, when I go to Soliel the ghosts of my past life haunt me.  Perhaps that’s why I felt so nearly paralyzed when last I saw Tagavarius.  Hmph.  And what simple poetry it was that the first thing he did was have me imprisoned.

Allustan opened his mouth to reply when we all heard a familiar voice for the second time in as many days echo in through the chamber.

_Oh Bah, Allustan! Let it go.  I need that one, too.  Gather together in Allustan's foyer everyone.  It is time to fulfill your oath.  Come quickly.  The sphincter will remain open for but a few seconds.  Mind not what you see on the other side.  Pay it no heed, lest you go mad._

That shrill voice, as piercing as a trumpet’s clarion call, was unmistakable.  Balian had once again found us.  

It startled me.  I could see it had a similar effect on the others.  Hu Li collapsed to the ground in a quivering heap.  Shallahai started.  Even Talon winced.

I recovered quickly.  "Lilian has fallen, Master Balian.  We must find a way to return her to us."  I couldn’t see the withered old mage, but I knew something of magic.  There were certain holy water fonts in Soliel that allowed priests to speak with other priests in other large cities across Turgos with some regularity.  Wizards, I knew had access to some similar divinations.  I shouted to the empty air hoping that where ever he was Balian could hear me.  

Despite my protestations, I knew that Lilian would have wanted us to keep our oath to Balian.  And whatever my own personal desires, I intended to do so.  But Balian's timing was--well inconvenient was the nicest thing I could think of.

_There is no time, Priest!_ Balian retorted peremptorily.  _It must be done now or never.  And never is NOT an option._ 

What was it that was so damn time sensitive that it could not at least await the burial of a good friend and comrade? What was so damned pressing that I could not be allowed the time to mourn?  _Dammit, Balian_.

Hu Li was once again fetal, rocking on the foyer's flagstone floor.  

"I am ready, Master.  Come and claim me.  I shall wriggle through the Sphincter of Unnamed Torment and crawl through the Pulsing Tunnel of Amoebic Juices and make my way to you, my Master!"  Hu Li cried, tears streaming down his face, as he rocked back and forth.

"Hu Li, enough!" Shallahai whispered harshly.  "What are you talking about?  Have you gone mad?"

Hu Li paused in his sycophantic praises long enough to meet Shallahai's gaze.  

Shallahai added, “again.”

Hu Li's eyes were wet and wide with terror as he shook his head back and forth slowly.  "You don’t know what he intends, the Master.”

“Tell me!” Shallahai whispered.

“No. No. No. No. No. No.”  Hu Li was shaking his head back and forth, his hands covering his ears, eyes closed.  

“What is it you know, Wizard!” Shallahai’s eyes blazed with fierce blackness.

Hu Li sensed the danger in Shallahai’s tone and stopped rocking.  Bringing his hands down from his ears and opening his eyes, Hu Li craned his neck toward Shallahai and with lip quivering he explained.  

“He will pull us through the veil that separates this world from the world beyond reality, a place of madness and terror.  In that Far Realm space and time work differently.  But a moment will pass here and in the blink of an eye we will arrive in Balian’s tower.  But our perception will be much different.  We will travel through a dimension few have ever gone to incarnate; it is a place of terror and madness.  We will be lucky to survive the journey and if we do, it will not likely be with our minds intact!”  Hu Li paused for effect.

I must admit that Hu Li’s words left a sour pit in my stomach.  Even knowing the wizard’s penchant for embellishment, there was something about his tone—something deeply disturbed and sincere—that made me shudder.  Even Shallahai seemed affected by Hu Li’s words, eyes wide as he stood up from his bent over position over Hu Li.

Hu Li continued crying and rocked back and forth more vigorously.

"Fascinating." Talon considered Hu Li's words.

This was ridiculous and I had no time for it.  But Allustan proved more diplomatic than I.

"Balian, must it be by this method that they come to you?  Wouldn't a teleportation circle be more appropriate under the circumstances?  They have been through much already."  Allustan was aghast.  

_No!  Stop interfering, Allustan!  And oh shut up, Hu Li!  Take it like a man, instead of the drooling sycophantic pile of dung that you are!_  Balian's harsh retort reverberated up the foyer.  _Look, there is no time and they cannot have the taint of 'impure' arcanery on them when they arrive.  It is imperative for the ritual that they be clean.  It MUST be done this way._

"Ritual?" I asked.

Allustan's eyes widened in recognition.  Fear crept into his mien.  "Yes, Balian, what _ritual_?"

It is none of _YOUR_ business, Allustan.  Come now!  The sphincter opens.  It beckons you!

Just then, a fleshy glob of proto-matter appeared in the center of the foyer.  Light effused from within it, rays penetrating the flickering light of Allustan's foyer.  It was almost celestial in its brilliance, but its color was off, a bit like split pea soup.  The proto-matter spun slowly, then more vigorously.  I felt a tug from the bottom of my stomach, toward the spinning glob.  I looked at the others.  They clearly felt it, too.

Wide-eyed and white-faced, Allustan backed quickly away, reaching for a stunned Austin.  Grapping his tunic, he pulled the boy to him as he opened the door to his hall, pushing Austin into the hall and backing in after.  “May Canaan protect you, my friends.”  The mage said, fear evident in his voice.  He closed the door behind him and was gone.

Rin, who also appeared to be affected by the tugging sensation, took a step or two inside the foyer.  The tower door slammed behind him.  “This is just great.” He said. 

Suddenly, Lilian's corpse lifted off of the floor and was sucked into the spinning sphincter, with a distinctively organic slurping noise.

Hu Li fainted.


----------



## iStrider (Feb 19, 2007)

Another couple of great updates!  I cannot wait for the next installment!


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Mar 6, 2007)

iStrider said:
			
		

> Another couple of great updates!  I cannot wait for the next installment!




My sentiments exactly.

Very sad to see Lilian bite the dust again. But, I assume that means there will be a new PC to look forward to.



			
				Canaan said:
			
		

> “Oh, shove it, you pansy!” Shouted Hu Li. “Get out of our way or be fed to the Eyeless Hollow Ones!”




And have I mentioned that, even if he's as great a threat to friend as to foe, I really like Hu Li.


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## Canaan (Mar 8, 2007)

*Chapter 35: Farewell*

HOHB,

Thanks for tuning in!  The story is about to take an interesting twist.

* * * *

But for my faith in Canaan, I fear I would have succumbed to the maddening vistas of the Far Realm.  If what I saw there was indeed real and not imagined or some queer defect in my capacity to perceive, we live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.  The schools of arcane magic, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.  

The screeching was so piercing that I thought my ears might bleed from the effort of hearing it.  It was a repetitive sound that took some time to distinguish as actual speech.  This is my best effort at committing to paper that which I heard: _Ph’nlgui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn._ I know not what it means, but it is terrifying even to this day.  Merely writing it has taken such supreme will that I must now rest.

* * * 

I have decided that of the things I learned on my journey no more must be told.  There is a secret that even torture could not extract from me.  But make no mistake, Mankind is not absolutely alone among the conscious things of the earth, for the shapes came out of the dark and made their presence known.  I wish I never learned what secrets lay just beyond the veil of awareness.  Are they here now?  Or are they sealed away in that place of madness.  I shall never know.

I was at first envious of the unconscious Hu Li, who escaped that terrifying assault on the senses and mind.  Perhaps it is a technique learned from his training with Balian that allowed him to so easily numb his mind and body to the horrors around him.  Although I suspect that it is instead a defense he developed to the insanity that must have constantly beleaguered him as Balian’s pupil in that dark, mysterious tower.  Recognizing the danger that lay along the path of jealousy, I quickly threw off the mood, praying to Canaan for His forgiveness of my momentary weakness.

Talon had managed through by his meditation in lotus-style pose, eyes shut and formidable mind closed like a trap against the insinuations of madness that crept over us in that place.  

Rin seemed nearly impervious to its affects.  The only outward sign of trouble he exhibited was a melancholy frown.  I have no common frame of reference with the half-fiend, so find it difficult to empathize with him.  But I know something of Hell and its structure.  Bertrand’s _Anatomy of Hell_ and Bishop Vangard’s _Treatise of Sin and the Afterlife_ were required reading in the seminary.  Bertrand’s Theory posits that Hell is bifurcated into nine layers, each of which contains its own unmentionable horrors, governed by an overlord of evil.  If memory serves, he suggests that some landscapes in Hell are so maddening…. I’m sure they must rival the place we had just been pulled through.  Perhaps the melancholy that affected Rin was caused by the memory of home that place evoked in him, rather than exposure to the insanity of the place itself.

Shallahai seemed most affected by our journey.  The Green there has been twisted and perverted into some unnatural state.  Or was it natural.  Perhaps what we see is the perversion and the natural state that lays beyond or tiny world, behind our imperfect veil of security.  That question alone is enough to drive one mad.  I can see how this journey must have upset Shallahai’s world.  

Sometimes the sides of the tunnel were so close, its slime covered sides brushed up against our flesh.  Dark things wriggled inside of the walls of that organic tunnel.  I know I saw faces pressed up against the walls, in silent screams of agony, trying to burst through.  Hands tried to grab for us, to take us into the flesh of the tunnel where we would no doubt remain, trapped in that mad realm.

Finally, after an eternity, we were excreted from the tunnel into Balian’s summoning chamber.  Covered in slime that smelled of afterbirth, one by one we began to get up.  Wiping the amoebic juices away from my eyes, my vision focused.  I saw towering over us Balian the Everwatchful, wearing his characteristic white, open-backed robe.  His white hair wild and bushy eyebrows raised.  

“You must rest for the evening, my friends.  Tomorrow morning we will conduct the ritual.” Balian shrieked.

Hu Li began to incant a spell to wipe away the slime and was interrupted by a backhanded slap from Balian, sending a glob of slime from Hu Li’s cheek flying.

“Don’t!  You fool! No magic!” Balian scolded the young wizard.

Hu Li mewled in pain, clutching the side of his face.

I saw Balian’s back then.  The ever-present blackened sores oozed clumps of viscous organic fluid, like jelly congealing.  They like eight holes about two inches in diameter down the center of his back in two rows.

Balian turned to the rest of us then.  

“Arcane magic must not be used before the ritual unless its caster has first been properly cleansed and the incantation burned into the memory through special ritual.”  

I nodded.  I don’t know why.  None among us has the knowledge necessary to perform the slightest cantrip.

I peered over to Shallahai.  His eyes were wide with the remnants of fear.  But he was cleaning off his clothing and shaking the slime out of his boots, readjusting to our surroundings.  His actions were characteristic of one busying himself to forget the unpleasantness of a traumatic experience.  It seemed no lasting damage was done.  For that, I was thankful.  It was times like this that Shallahai seemed human, vulnerable.  These times were becoming fewer and farther between, but I cherished every one of them.

The Shuuthian seemed even less-affected than the others.  I approached him.  

“That was a journey I do not desire to take again.”  I started.

“Yes.  It is a journey I have now twice taken, the second no better than the first.” The Shuuthian responded.  

He turned to Master Balian.

“Good Wizard, where is my horse?” the Shuuthian horse druid asked.

Balian looked at him, considering his request.  After a moment, he spoke.

“Your horse is safely stabled next to the tower in an old shed.  Orolde has cared for him while you were gone.” Balian nodded to the Shuuthian.

“Thank you, Wizard.  I shall take my leave of you then.  Since the Succubus has been destroyed, I have reached a dead end.  I no longer have a purpose here.”  Fer’inj stated.

Balian stared at the druid.

“It was…interesting…meeting your acquaintance, an experience I shall not lightly forget.”  Fer’inj’s lip curled ever so slightly in disgust.

“Rest this night, friend.  You are free to leave when you wish.  But the light of day will speed your travel.” Balian responded, ignoring the Shuuthian’s manner.

“You are too kind.” Fer’inj responded, bowing to Balian, out of respect.  The matter was ended, but the Shuuthian was clearly uncomfortable.

“What is this ritual we will be performing and what exactly will be our role in it?”  Talon asked Balian.

“I will tell you tomorrow.  Now, get some rest.  I must continue to prepare for the ritual.”  Balian responded.  “Orolde has prepared your rooms in the tower.  Meet him in the dining hall.  He will show you to your rooms and warm baths.”

I was full of questions, chief among which was what was to be done about Lilian’s corpse.  

Balian saw my hesitation.  “She will be fine here.  We will need her for the ritual as well.  After all, it was her word that bound the rest of you.”

“But Master Balian, she is dead.  How can she help you?”  I asked, truly confused.

“You will see tomorrow, apprentice.”  Balian responded.  

Apprentice.  I didn’t feel like much of an apprentice.  My studies had not even started to any degree.  I had heard it took years to master the arcane arts and that those who sought their mastery with a teacher often spent years performing mind-numbing chores for their masters before any true learning began.  But I feel as though I haven’t even started that process with Balian yet.  I have been involved in too many events of importance, events beyond my control that this Balian has had a hand in.  Perhaps, this is all part of my training after all.

We all turned to leave.

“_Wait!_  Hu Li you will attend your duties before you go.  It is most important this night that you cleanse the sores upon my back.  The girls must be clean for the ritual tomorrow!”  Balian nearly screeched.

Hu Li’s shoulders slumped as he turned around and began to walk back to Balian.  

“Yes Master.” He responded glumly.  

His response reminded me of the house-servant, Orolde’s, manner.  What an odd creature, Orolde.  It was quite a mystery what could possibly be worth the abuse of staying in the curmudgeonly old wizard’s employ.  

* * * *

I must admit, I didn’t sleep well that night.  I was afraid to close my eyes for fear of the horrors my dreams might bring.  I spent a good deal of the evening reminiscing about the little time I had with Lilian.  It occurred to me with some dismay that Gabriel would have to be told about his sister’s fate.  

I did not relish the idea of bearing such bad tidings.  It would be hard enough for me to speak about it.  But I fear that much more damage would be done in the telling.  Hearing such awful news might throw the fragile priest into a depression such that Gabriel may never recover from his current bout with his inner demons.  Gabriel, drinking again, the Shuuthian observed.  I remembered Lilian’s stories about Gabriel’s drinking at Goldfire Glen.  It was clearly a sickness.

The church does provide services to help heal those that have allowed the lure of alcohol to poison their minds.  I have seen first hand the vise-like hold that mead can have over a man and its devastating effects.  A brother in the seminary suffered from such an affliction.  His particular case was quite severe.  When the depression got too severe, he nearly hung himself with his _platus_, a cordlike belt Canaanite priests wear around their mid-sections designating rank.  It must have been much like the lure of Corday, the Sirine, in Wiltangle Forest—one single note and before you know it you have succumbed to a lifetime of sweet, sweet song, longing only to escape but never really having the drive to do so.    

But I fear that with Father Zigfried in residence at Goldfire Glen, he is not leaping at the opportunity to give Gabriel the support he needs to tear himself away from the bottle and resist its lure.  There is something—dare I say—sinister about Father Zigfried.  He is so much the zealot, too much so.  It has been a long time such we have been in Goldfire Glen, but I don’t suppose his exposure to those who live by the rules of The Green has made him any softer.  If anything, my bet is that it has brought him to new levels of anti-Green zealotry.  His rhetoric must certainly be rattling the more liberal Baron Underhill.  I’ve even heard rumor that the Underhill family has some Halfling blood in its line.  If Zigfried knew that....

* * * *

Orolde woke us systematically and sent us down to breakfast.  Balian wouldn’t be joining us, “too busy preparing for the evening ceremony,” Orolde had said in his characteristically glum tone as he waddled down the hall to wake Shallahai.

There wasn’t much talking at breakfast.  As I looked around the table I noted the same hollow expression and dark circles under the eyes of most of my companions as I knew must be on my face.  The memories of the last couple of days will not quickly fade.

The bleak stone of the tower and its dearth of windows felt too close.  The scent of mildew permeated its rooms.  Autumn had arrived in earnest.  I needed some air.  

Crossing the drawbridge, I watched several of the oversized ducks nipping at each other and defecating on the grounds.  It reminded me to watch where I stepped, lest I experience an unpleasant surprise.  The stuff was positively everywhere and it smelled worse outside than it did in Balian’s Tower.  

Despite it all, however, it was a beautiful day.  The leaves had started their annual turning, golds, yellows and oranges graced their boughs.  A slight breeze stirred the air, bringing a brief respite from the olfactory hell that was the grounds of Balian’s Tower.  The air was a bit brisk.  I tightened my robe and tied my platus more securely so I could tolerate the chill air.

My _ghola_ robe was filthy.  The bottom foot of it was caked in mud from Diamond Lake.  It contained gashes from where I had been raked.  It bore burn marks from those Dark-Sider blasts.  My blood and that of my friends and foes alike adorned it.  While I never was one to enjoy the excess of the church, for example, choosing to forego wearing the _thawqin_ of a fully ordained priest with its inlaid precious metals, in favor of the acolyte’s _ghola_, I must look the part of the beggar.

I sighed and looked to the heavens.  It had been a long journey from that day I met Shale near here.  Though mere weeks have passed, I have in that time become much closer to Canaan, learning to channel more of His divine grace through my prayers.  Even now, I feel myself on the cusp of greater enlightenment.

Sounds of movement behind me lifted me out of my reverie.  

“The Green graces us with yet another beautiful day.” Shallahai announced as he approached me with a slight smile.  

The hollow look was gone from his eyes.  

“And I thank The Goddess that my feet are planted firmly in her bosom.” He continued, the smile disappearing as a dark thought momentarily passed him.

“Much have we been through, friend.” I said, clapping Shallahai firmly on the shoulder with a smile.

The smile returned to his face.  “Yes, my friend.”

Shallahai looked around him into the distance.  

“But something dark lays just over the horizon and I fear it is something beyond any of us.”  He turned to me, eyes blazing white with the introspective insight of The Green.

My smile faded, “what do you see, Shallahai?” I asked.  My voice trembled slightly.

“Death and rebirth.  But not in the natural way.  A merger.  I know not what it means.  But be ready when it happens.”  He warned.

“Ready for what?” I asked.

Shallahai didn’t answer me.

Of all of us, the changes wrought in Shallahai over the past few weeks were the most profound.  The Green’s Answer, he called himself.  But what was he really?  An Avatar—perhaps a physical manifestation of a part of The Green?  Whatever he was, I was happy to have him on my side.  For the power he could channel was so primal, so devastating, that I shudder to think what would happen if he turned that energy against the people of Turgos.

* * * 

Fer’inj had bathed and washed his clothes.  His boots were laced for traveling as he came to greet Shallahai and I on the tower grounds.  

“I will be going soon my friends.  I will never forget fighting by your side. There are few experiences as bonding as fighting together for one’s life.  As my people say, ‘no words need express the bond of battle.’  You will not be forgotten.”  Fer’inj smiled.

“Where will you go?” Shallahai asked.

“Back home, to Shuuth.  I will speak with my order and try to unravel the mystery of the Succubus.” Fer’inj responded.

“Yes, the Succubus.  She does represent a mystery.  What was she doing in Shuuth?”  I asked.

“What do you mean?” Shallahai asked.

“The Succubus killed the merchant in Shuuth and then came here in his disguise.  If she merely meant to hide, she could have killed any merchant in Turgos, perhaps one from Mage Point or Tarsis.  Why the need to travel to Shuuth for that purpose?  I’d wager that was not the reason she was in Shuuth.”  I responded.

“Then why?” Shallahai asked.

Hu Li joined us just then.

“What are we talking about?” He interrupted.

“Evora was just postulating that the Succubus was in Shuuth for some nefarious reason other than to kill the merchant.” Shallahai explained.

“Well, of course she was.  I didn’t know you were that dim priest.”  Hu Li responded.

I sighed.  

“Ok, I’ll bite.  Why do you think she was there, Hu Li?” I asked.

“Well didn’t Duke Devonhilt tell you that Malfoy was raising an army to invade the Wildlands?” Hu Li asked.

“Yes.  But what does that have to do with the price of tea in the Thassaline?” I asked.

Hu Li rolled his eyes and sighed.  Then he began to explain as if talking to a child.

“Where will all of the able-bodied men of Turgos be when Malfoy invades the Wildlands?”  Hu Li asked rhetorically and paused for impact.

"And didn't the Succubus free Veshra so that Veshra could free Kharas'Vhoories?  If Allustan is correct, where will all the attention of all of the beings of power in Turgos be focused  when Kharas'Vhoories is freed?" Hu Li finished.

Shallahai and I looked at each other simultaneously, our expressions flooding with understanding.

“Shuuth is going to invade Turgos!” Shallahai exclaimed.

I gasped.  “Why didn’t you say something sooner, Hu Li!” I yelled.

Hu Li rolled his eyes dramatically….again.

“I didn’t think it needed spelling out.  It was quite obvious to me once the Shuuthian explained the circumstances of his presence in Turgos.”  Hu Li responded exasperatedly.  “Did you even _go_ to school?” He asked rhetorically and walked away.    

I watched the wizard retreat into the tower, mouth agape.

“Fer’inj, you must discover if this rumor is true.” Shallahai said.

“I intend to, my friends.  If Shuuth intends to invade Turgos due to the machinations of a succubus, only the infernal host will gain from such an endeavor.  I will find out what I can and try to get word to you.”  Fer’inj smiled and clasped Shallahai’s hand.

“Thank you, Fer’inj.” I said, smiling slightly.

“I must go now.  It is growing dark, your ritual will begin shortly.  This place makes me uncomfortable.” Fer’inj stated as he got up and brushed himself off.

Shallahai and I rose together.

“Farewell, friend.” I said, clasping Fer’inj’s hand in friendship.

“Farewell.” He replied.

After the druid was off, Shallahai and I returned to our meditations.  I silently prayed to Canaan that Fer’inj would make it safely home.  

Several hours passed.

“Balian is ready for us.” Talon emerged from the Tower and beckoned to us.  

“Coming.” I answered for both of us.

“Come on, Shallahai, it is time.” I smiled as I rose and offered my hand to the druid.  He took it and rose.

“Now we shall see what all of this mystery is about.”  The Druid responded.


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## iStrider (Mar 15, 2007)

Excellent update! More please!


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## Canaan (Mar 15, 2007)

Hu Li is quite the character.  After the next story arc he goes into NPC status.   In truth, throughout most of the story he was controlled by me, because the player only showed up to wreak havoc once in a while 

Another PC, Villst Mifsud, joins the crew shortly.  He takes over as comic relief, because his player is just so damm funny...

looking....

j/k

Anywho, Lilian Evenshire, Favored Soul of Canaan.  Is she gone for good?  Only time will tell....


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## PwrMnky (Apr 12, 2007)

*villst*

OH MY GOD....

I can't wait. I can tell already, he is going to be my favorite character. Full of charm, beauty and biting social commentary.

MAN!
I keep on reading this thing like, "blahblahblha ... notVillst ... blahblahblah ... notVillst ...."

Finally ... the time has come!


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## Canaan (Nov 18, 2007)

*Chapter 36: Balian Revealed*

Balian placed the Book of Abu-Abai on a small pedestal table near the entrance to the dank, torch-lit summoning chamber; the book that Balian had recovered from Hu Li after the errant apprentice pilfered it from the wizened old mage.  I recognized it by the screaming face on its leather, hide-like cover, appearing to try to break free from its binding.  _Was it made of human skin?_  I wondered.  

We filed in, one by one.  A cloying scent of mildew, vinegar and rotting rose petals assailed our senses.  Balian closed the heavy iron doors behind us.  He seemed old, then, and frail—older and frailer than usual.  Perhaps it was the strain of his preparatory vigil, or perhaps it was merely an illusion created by the enormity of the doors against his thin frame.  

He wore only a long gray kilt.  It was unsettling seeing the perpetual oozing sores, leaking black ichor down his back.  He called them girls, yesterday.  _Did he name them?_  I shuddered involuntarily.

“Apprentice.” Balian said, his back still to us.  “Should this thing go…wrong, take the Book of Abu-Abai and let my wisdom guide you.”  Balian turned around then and winked at me.

“Yes M—.” Hu Li and I both began, startling each other.  Hu Li glared at me.  

“What do you mean, wizard, ‘If this thing goes _wrong_?’” Rin asked menacingly.

Balian’s eyes locked onto Rin’s.  “I mean, _demon_, that fail-safes have been put into place.  Do not worry.”  Balian’s tone matched Rin’s.

For a moment, I thought Rin would lash out at the wizened mage, but after a pregnant pause, Rin accepted Balian’s response with a mild nod toward the man.

Balian shuffled past us toward the center of the cold stone chamber.  The soft sound of leather scraping on stone followed him.

In the chamber’s center was a pentagram carved into the floor and surrounded by a circle.  At each point of the pentagram was a lit black candle.  Several identical innately carved daggers lay equidistantly around the perimeter of the circle.  As I approached the circle, I could see that its outline was a trough of sorts, dug into the floor.  The hairs on my arms stood erect and my skin prinkled as I waived my hand in the air above the pentagram.  The waves of power emanating from that circle were staggering!

Lilian’s corpse lay next to one of the daggers.  Balian walked across the floor, careful to walk around the outside of the circle, taking a position directly opposite Lilian.  Hu Li took his spot to Balian’s left.

“Everyone gather around the circle.  Do not enter the circle.  Step up to the dagger and take it in your right hand.”  Balian commanded.

We all did as he said, but found that there were one too many of us.  Preoccupied with the workings of the circle, I was last to take a position around it.  

Seeing no spots left I was at a loss for what do to.  “Master Balian.  There are not enough spots around the circle.  What would you have me do?” I asked.

“You must use your prayers to bolster my abilities for the ritual.  Once you have completed that task, go to Lilian’s spot and take up the dagger at her position.” Balian responded in his characteristically shrill voice.  It echoed through the chamber.

“Once the ritual begins, it cannot be interrupted.  Nobody can leave their designated spot.  Everyone must do exactly as I say, the consequences of failure are…..”  Balian shuddered as he trailed of in his admonition to us.

I finished my prayers to Canaan, asking that His Holiness bolster Balian, using every miracle I could think of.  For I knew that whatever it was that was so frightening as to cause Balian to shudder, it was something I for certain did not want to see come to pass.  Then I took my spot next to Lilian’s corpse.

“Let the calling begin!” Balian howled.  A crackling purple halo of energy surrounded him.

_A calling_.  I cringed.  Rin’s mouth opened in surprise.  Shallahai glanced at me with a worried expression.  _Have faith_, I told myself.  I tried to reassure Shallahai with a look.  But I couldn’t muster the confidence.  All color drained from my face.  

Only Talon seemed unaffected by hearing those words.  In fact, he seemed almost curious; the twin incongruous effects of his intense mental training and Half-Faean impulses.

Balian chanted for what seemed like minutes, uttering complex incantations in a language so ancient I didn’t even recognize it.  

I had taken my place at Lilian’s side.  

Balian raised his hands out to his sides.  Purple energy began lancing out from them to his left and right.  As Balian’s magic leapt from his hands to the adjacent spots, Hu Li and Rin, who were to his left and right, began writhing.  Their arms raised involuntarily, outstretched to their sides.  The crackling purple energy engulfed them both.  It was as if it was feeding off of them.  After a few seconds, the energy proceeded around the circle to the others.

I was terrified.  I had never before experienced anything like this.  Balian’s magic seemed insidious, draining energy or power from those participating in the ritual.  I could see the pain in their faces before the energy hit me.  It took all of my faith in Canaan to stand where I was, not to flee.  

Sweat began to drip from my brow.  _How stupid I was!_  I used all of my miracles to bolster Balian for this insidious ritual, holding nothing back.  I had no prayers left to protect myself from Balian’s magic.

Then the magic lanced toward me.  But it was not me that it hit.  It was Lilian’s corpse.

Writhing with Balian’s magic, Lilian’s corpse levitated off of the floor.  The purple coruscating beam shot out of her continuing around the circle.

I was terrified, the enormity of what was happening just beginning to dawn on me.  But soon enough the writhing stopped and the energy began to settle into a solid pulse between everyone gathered around the circle.  Cries of pain subsided.  I thanked Canaan.

Balian’s shrill demand rose above the pulsating crackle of energy. “Cut your wrist with the ceremonial athame.  Bleed into the trough in the floor outlining the pentagram!”  

Shallahai glanced at me with an uncertain expression.  Talon, who had been particularly racked with pain from Balian’s spell, looked at me.  I was surprised to see, not the calm stoic mein of the well-ordered monk, but eyes white with fear.  Panic.  He had the look of a doe, about to flee in the face of danger.  

I was lost.  This was so totally beyond me.  I had no idea what to do, what to advise, how to react.  Putting aside present circumstances, as a priest, I would counsel them to have faith in Canaan and everything would turn out right.  And that’s what I did, for better or for worse.

Balian commenced chanting, again.

“Have faith my friends.  Do as Balian says.”  I counseled.  Immediately after uttering those words, I doubted them.  _I am a fool._  I thought.  _I am leading my friends to their deaths._  Just as quickly, I berated myself for having such thoughts.  Canaan would see us through.  He must!

The others made narrow cuts into their wrists, bleeding into the trough.  After a few seconds, the trough glowed silver and from the center of the pentagram the floor seemed to open, like a sphincter.  The sound of stone grinding rose above Balian’s chant.

The opening stopped at the far edges of the circle.  The retreating stone revealed a black inky pool with a smooth, still surface.

The surface of the pool began to bubble and froth.  It agitated for several seconds and then suddenly went still.

I looked at Rin.  _Had the ritual failed?_ I wondered.  Rin didn’t acknowledge me, focused instead on the inky pool.  My eyes, too, were drawn to the inky blackness of the water.  Something immense was coming.  It's presence nearly suffocated me.  Yet I could see nothing.

Suddenly, the water cascaded up to the ceiling.  Ropey tendrils of inky black water traveled along the ceiling of the chamber, while the main body of the pool formed a column in the center of the circle.

Hu Li gasped.  

The column began to materialize into a slimy creature with a black flat carapace covering its head.  Or maybe the carapace was its head.  I couldn’t be certain.  So much happened at once, I cannot accurately recall.  

The top of the carapace faced the ceiling, giving the creature a vague mushroom-like appearance.  The black ropey tentacles extended from the edges of the creature’s flat carapace to the ceiling.  A huge toothy maw opened on the top of the carapace and red eyes formed.  Meanwhile the lower portion of the column shrank, forming more ropey tentacles attached to the bottom of the carapace, its legs, perhaps.

Balian spoke to it in a surprisingly lucid voice.  “I am a Servant of the Xith`Krull.  I am the Guardian of the Black Mirror.  You have been called here from the Realm of Astaroth to serve as the Mirror’s guardian in my absence.  None shall enter the Black Mirror and none shall leave it! So says the Xith`Krull!”

Terror.  It is the only feeling I can recall.  Rin and Shallahai and I were trembling.  The only thing keeping Hu Li from going fetal was the utter paralysis that had overtaken him.

But Talon.  Talon bolted.  Overwhelmed by terror, he panicked.  Talon was but a blur as he ran out of the chamber with such speed, a sound escaped his lips that I had never before heard Talon make and never would, again.  A scream.

“_NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!_” Shrieked Balian.

Talon had broken the circle.  The purple pulsing energy winked out.

The creature screamed.  My mind nearly exploded with the force of the creature’s simultaneous thoughts of exultation and hatred. It was so alien, so overwhelming, I felt my ears bleed.

Freed from its captivity and Balian’s spell, the creature attacked with incredible ferocity.

Hu Li was the target of its initial rage.  Detaching its tentacles from the ceiling of the chamber, the creature slammed them into Hu Li’s frail body.  Hu Li went flying twenty feet into the wall behind him, unconscious or dead, I wasn’t sure.  

The rest of us variously prepared to fight or flee, when Balian’s voice boomed through the chamber.  It was not the characteristically shrill, piercing shriek to which we were accustomed.  Rather, it was a deep, commanding lucid voice over a haunting feminine chorus.

It so shocked me, that even in my terror, I forced myself to look at its source.

My eyes widened.

“*WE ARE BALIAN!*” The whites of Balian’s eyes had turned black.  His arms were outstretched to his sides, at the height of his shoulders.  Eight black tentacles slowly writhed behind him, slithering like snakes, elongating.  The end of each of the tentacles was adorned with a slimy eyeball.  They appeared to be attached to Balian’s back in the locations of his sores.  

“*WE HAVE CALLED YOU AND YOU WILL OBEY*!”  The Balian-tentacles lashed out at the creature.  But the creature was ready.  It’s own tentacles rushed to meet them.  They grappled each other in a silent test of strength and will.

Balian shrieked in his usual voice.  “Everyone flee!  You cannot harm this foe!”

Rin was the first to react.  He ran to Hu Li’s apparently lifeless corpse, hefted it over a shoulder and ran for the exit.  I struggled with Lilian’s corpse.  But I was too weak.  Shallahai dashed to my side and picked it up, carrying it like a sack of potatoes.  

Rin and Shallahai exited the room.  I was last.  

Risking a look behind me, I saw the Balian-Tentacles and the creature at a stalemate.  Then Balian began to chant, an aura of power surrounding him.

I prayed that Balian would win this fight, as I grabbed the Book of Abu-Abai and fled from the chamber.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Nov 19, 2007)

Well ... Praise Canaaan!! Another of my favourite storyhours back from the dead!    

Good to see you writing again - and up to your normal high standard.

I don't want to appear greedy, but ... can I have some more, please sir?


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## iStrider (Nov 19, 2007)

Yay!  An update!  I must agree with HalfOrc... More please!


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## Canaan (Nov 20, 2007)

*Interlude:  Two Months Earlier......*



			
				HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Well ... Praise Canaaan!! Another of my favourite storyhours back from the dead!
> 
> Good to see you writing again - and up to your normal high standard.
> 
> I don't want to appear greedy, but ... can I have some more, please sir?




Thanks, Biscuit!  Here is a brief update 

**********


Dearest Helena,

I know how you abhor this pedestrian form of communication.  But the sound of my quill on parchment soothes me.  Perhaps it is a side effect of my long years of constant study and writing.  I’m sure you can forgive my indulgence in this.

It is as I have suspected for some time.  The answer to what happened to my sister can be found beyond the Amoebic Sea.  I must know what happened to her!  I must avenge her.

I will consult the Xith’Krull Oracle.  But first I must find a replacement for my duties in Turgos.  It is extremely disappointing and quite annoying that my apprentice, Hu Li, is such an idiot.  Eyeless Hollow Ones, indeed!

He wouldn’t know a creature from one of the Far Realms if it came up and bit him on the backside.  He takes every word of every heretical whacko as gospel.  He simply hasn’t refined the skill to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Ah well!  I don’t mean to bore you with my troubles.  I only wanted to let you know that I will be taking my leave of you, soon.  I will call the Neh-Thalggu to guard the Mirror in my absence.  Do be careful not to wander into my summoning chamber while I am away.  
The Neh-Thalggu is not a creature to be trifled with.

Regards,

Balian, The Everwatchful


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Nov 20, 2007)

Brief indeed ... but still better than a bowl of gruel.


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## Canaan (Nov 21, 2007)

*Chapter 37: A Crossroads*

We ran up the stairs to the main level of the Keep and out across the drawbridge.  Passing the giant ducks, I vaguely noticed they were all laying on their sides, writhing in agony.  I was so intent on getting away from the creature in Balian’s summoning chamber, that I hardly noticed anything else. 

After the terror subsided and we gained a fair distance from the Keep, we slowed, exhausted.  Shallahai collapsed, breathing heavily, dropping Lilian’s corpse on the hard packed earthen road leading to Goldfire Glen.  Rin was the only one of us who appeared unwinded.

With exhaustion came an easing of my panic, and as my panic dissipated, my mental faculties returned.  _What was that creature?_  It killed Hu Li with one concentrated punch.  _Poor Hu Li._  I looked at his slumped, unmoving form.  I never thought I would say it, but with Hu Li’s passing, I felt loss.  Not the kind of loss I feel for Lilian.  It was more the feeling one gets with the passing of a long-time, beloved neighbor.  Tears welled up in my eyes when I looked at Hu Li’s corpse.  Deep down, Hu Li was a decent, if not terribly frightened, person.  I never did ask the others how Jordan Gunderson behaved as a child.  I never knew Jordan before his studies with the mad arcanist, before he had been tainted by the powerful arcane magic he wielded so efficiently.  I think I would have liked to know Jordan the boy.

I shook my head and wiped my tears away.  _At least nobody will be trying to get us killed everywhere we go, anymore._

“-ut -e dun, -ou -ig oa-!”  I heard a weak voice command.

To my surprise and delight, Hu Li was alive.

“I said, -ut -e dun!”  He weakly spoke again, lips barely moving.

Perhaps I overstated things, by using the word “delight.”

Rin did as commanded, placing Hu Li upright, feet firmly on the ground.

The wizard proceeded to tumble over and hit the earth with a dull thud.

“Ow!.” I could hear the muffled sound of his voice, even though his face was smashed into the road’s surface.  He merely laid there, moaning.

“Oh stop the dramatics and get up!” Shallahai barked exasperatedly at Hu Li.

“_I can’t!_” Hu Li cried in his muffled voice.

“What do you mean, you _can’t_.  What is wrong with you?” I asked.

“I can’t –oo—a-yt-ing.” Hu Li pronounced.

I got up and rolled him over.  His eyes were wide open.  But he seemed not to have any control of the rest of his movements.  His body was not rigid.  Far from it.  It moved like jelly.  His skin was paler than normal.

After a thorough examination, I determined that he had been drained of all but the tiniest fraction of his strength.  He could not move and was nearly paralyzed, but not in the way a ghoul or some poisons paralyze their victims.  It was more like the creature he had been zapped of his ability to move and his strength.  Not to mention that he had the pallor of a corpse.  So, I suspected that his health had been siphoned off as well.  

“The creature must have done this to you, when it attacked you.” I said, tenderly placing his arms across his chest.

Hu Li was clearly near death.  Unfortunately his formidable yet unhinged mind was still intact and his tongue sharp as a knife.

“No, do –ou think?” Hu Li barked as sarcastically as he could muster, given his state.

“Do suthing, riest!” Hu Li ordered, in a panicked tone.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do at the moment, Hu Li.”  I dropped his arm unceremoniously and began wiping my hands on my dirty robe, trying my best to ignore the arrogant mage.  But I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my tone.  _To think that I cried for him_.  I _am_ a fool.

“Balian required all of my miracles for the ritual.  I have not the power to channel additional divine energy today.  You’ll just hav—"  

Shallahai’s sudden gasp, cut me off, mid-sentence.  “_Look!_” he said, pointing to the sky.

I looked at the sky.  It had turned orange!  Not the orange of a sunset, but the orange of a fruit; bright, vivid.  It was as if the very air was tinged orange, casting everything else in an eerie crispness that made me feel slightly claustrophobic, like some mornings in a thick fog.

“By Canaan!  The sky is orange!” I breathed.

“Yes, look!” Shallahai was pointing at something in the air.

I squinted to see.  About thirty feet away, an eyeless frog was flying through the air on bat wings.  I couldn’t believe my eyes.

A ripple moved through the grass near the road in the direction from which we had just fled, undulating across it.  It was about one hundred feet away.  As the ripple moved through the grass, the flora changed.  Where once green grass drank the sun’s light, now was only hollow, spongy pale white stalks, nearly translucent.  They writhed in the orange glow of the air.  Where there once were yellow dandelions and field flowers, were only blue maws with sharp teeth and long tongues lashing out at the unnatural insects buzzing by.

The ripple crossed to where we were sitting on the roadway.  As it did so, Shallahai doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach.  

“It is as before!” Shallahai exclaimed through clenched teeth.  “In the tunnel!”  He emptied the contents of his stomach on the roadway, which immediately got up and ran away into the writhing grass, to be devoured by the hungry, carnivorous flowers.

Hu Li chuckled.

I had had enough.  Canaan forgive me. I began to berate him.  “This is no time to—!" 

“di-ensthonal -lot.” Hu Li said, cutting me off.  “it’s caused –y da –lack –irror.  It’s o-en! It’s o-en!” Hu Li yelled.

He started chanting then.  “-raise da Eye-ess Harrow Uhns! –east on our –lesh, suck da –arrow um our –owns!  We gi- oursel to you!”  Over and over, again.  

We were silent for a moment, trying to make out what Hu Li had said.

“Did he say dimensional blot?” Shallahai asked, looking at me questioningly.

“Something about the Black Mirror.” I responded.

Hu Li continued to chant over and over.

“What do you mean, Hu Li?” I asked.

He ignored me, chanting.

“Answer him!” Shallahai demanded, rising.

Our pleas and demands went ignored. 

Hu Li’s chanting was now in rhythm with the writhing of the grass.  They were in unison in some sort of dance macabre.  I could feel a tension gathering in the air, like a snake about to strike, drawn to the chanting mage.

Until Rin peremptorily drove his fist into Hu Li’s temple, knocking him unconscious with a scowl.

“It’s about time somebody shut him up.” Shallahai thanked Rin.

The tension ceased.  I felt momentary pangs of guilt for my satisfaction when Rin punched Hu Li.  But Shallahai was right.  Hu Li was only adding to this insanity.

I shook my head in my hands.  I was at a complete loss for what to do.

“Where’s Talon?” I asked.

“I don’t know” Shallahai responded, looking around briefly at the insane landscape, then quickly returning his gaze to me, face pale.

“We didn’t pass him in our flight from the Tower.”  Rin said.  “And he was moving so fast—I’ll bet he’s several leagues from here.”

Balian must have lost the battle with the creature and this was some sort of after effect of the creature’s entrance into this world.  From what I learned of callings in the seminary, they usually involved a creature performing a service for a negotiated period of time.  After performing the service the creature was free to return to its plane of origin.  The priesthood deals primarily with celestial beings.  If a calling went wrong, at worst, the celestial being failed to answer it or exacted payment for, or refused to perform, the requested task.  But Balian’s calling; it was arcane.  The rules are different, I know.  A bargain must be reached of some sort.  

_Oh what had Balian done!_

Looking around at my disheveled companions, seeing the marks of the ritual on them, the cut wrists, the exhaustion, noting the absence of Talon and seeing Hu Li’s pitiful unconscious form and Lilian’s corpse, I made a decision.  It was a decision that, once made, could not be unmade.  It would forever be carried with me, my burden of faith.  I would walk the tightrope between salvation and oblivion.

I set my jaw in determination and looked at my companions.  

“An Arcanist got us into this…. Canaan willing, an Arcanist will get us out of it.”  

I opened the Book of Abu-Abai.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Nov 21, 2007)

Excellent! Thanks, Canaan.   



> _Oh what had Balian done!_




... well, I'm guessing that it's not good.


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## iStrider (Nov 27, 2007)

I cannot tell you how happy I am that this story hour is being updated again!


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## Canaan (Jun 25, 2008)

Update coming soon!  More than one, even......or maybe in short succession.  Depends on how far I get writing.  I've gotten through my writer's block on how to depict the session that has had me at a loss as to how to write it.  So much happened, so many monumental things happened, so quickly that it has been difficult to express them.  And I'm writing on my own now as D'Nemy has gotten extremely busy with RL.  Ah well!  I hope the updates find renewed interest in the story hour


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## Canaan (Jun 28, 2008)

*Chapter 38: Illyria*

I was vaguely aware of movement and a shout.  Or was it a gasp?    

As I opened the book, bright light cascaded from its pages; its color that of a shallow tropical ocean on a sunny day.  Words drifted in the sea of color, red and spidery.  I couldn’t make them out at first, but I felt an urgency to decipher the words.  I had the book gripped with both hands.  My knuckles white with the exertion.  My mind was suddenly filled with distractions; distractions seemingly fired at me from within the book.  I felt pressure, as though the book was trying to assert its will over mine, bombarding me with disjointed thoughts.  I felt my sanity slipping away even as I was drowning in a sea of color.

Everything outside of the book was faint, distant somehow, unreal.  Did Lilian’s corpse just move?  I shook the thought out of my head.  The book was toying with me, trying to get me to lose my concentration.  Just then, I felt, more than saw, hands, black and inky rise from the depths of the book to grasp mine.  As they clasped my hands, they started to pull.  I suddenly realized I was being pulled into the book!

My first instinct was to release the book and pull away.  But I couldn’t.  The more I tried, the more my muscles refused to respond.  My head was pounding and I was beginning to lose consciousness.  I knew in that moment that if I passed out of consciousness, I would fall into oblivion.  If my will was not strong enough, I would be consumed by whatever entity it was that was within the pages of the book.  

Gathering all of the will I could muster, I focused on the red, spidery words, trying to make them clear, understandable.

Blackness was quickly descending on me.  With one last burst of effort and a silent prayer to Canaan, I focused all of my will on seeing the words clearly.  

And all was made clear in that moment.  The unfocused, hazy lines became crisp.  Words formed from images.  I spoke the words in a whisper, not being able to manage anything louder.

The hands retreated and the pounding in my temple ceased.  The sea of color faded and the book became merely a book, its pages covered in a strange and esoteric form of handwriting, sprinkled here and there with Balian’s notes.

I immersed myself in the tome.  For the most part, it was the product of either insane ramblings or unique genius.  But several passages caught my interest.  The book described the ritual we had just performed with Balian back at his tower, the Ritual to Summon and Bind the Horror.  It described the Ebon Mirror and explained its nature and uses.

My heart sank as I read on, knowing what must be done, knowing that we were woefully unequipped to do what was required and knowing what would happen first to Goldfire Glen, then to the rest of Turgos, if the chain reaction could not be stopped.  We must close the Ebon Mirror.

Then I heard it, an ethereal echo in my mind.  Something trying to get through to my consciousness.  I focused on the sound.  What was it?

“Evora!” Came Shallahai’s warning cry.  It was a mixture of astonishment, hope and terror, wrapped in pain.

I ripped my concentration from the book and the color faded.  The druid’s eyes were wide and fixed on the road a dozen feet or so from us, his hands clutched his stomach, as before.  I followed his gaze, a silent prayer to Canaan on my lips.

She was beautiful, and alien.  Instead of long golden tresses, her hair was dark as midnight, streaked with iridescent purple.  Instead of a glowing expression of peace and love, she wore a mien of uncaring curiosity.  Her blue eyes, deep as the ocean itself, a window to her beatific soul, now flat mirrors of lavender, frightful to look into for fear of what would be found staring back. Markings of purple and black framed her face, blotches etched into her skin at regular intervals.  Her once full, red lips were now deflated and blue.  She had discarded her armor and clothing and now crouched before us, naked.  Her soft white skin had turned cobalt blue.  Her head cocked to the side like a dog trying to understand something incomprehensible, she observed us, wary. 

As my mind processed the abomination before me, filling me with terror, I had the temerity to hope.  My heart leapt as it sunk in my chest.

“Lilian?” I dared ask.

Nothing.

“How can it be!” Shallahai gasped as his stomach spasmed.

“This is not Lilian.” Rin calmly observed, referring to the creature before us.  The creature’s eyes followed his movements and observed his expression.

I glared at Rin.  “Surely, it is Lilian.  The shape of her face, her figure—she is standing where her corpse was just a few moments ago!” I argued, even has my heart told me this animalistic creature standing before us was not Lilian.

Hu Li, all but forgotten, started giggling then.  

“What is it!” Shallahai demanded of Hu Li, his pain—the affect of the unnatural taint on the Green—apparently shortening his fuse.

Hu Li only giggled more loudly. 

“He is insane.” Rin observed. 

This was madness.  The druid continued to berate Hu Li and Hu Li continued, laughing more loudly, but it became a haze in the background of my thoughts as it began to sink in what was happening.  Hu Li knew it, too.  I felt the weight of despair and I could not move out from under it.  This creature was not Lilian.

I sighed and stepped forward, wary, clutching my holy symbol in one hand.  

“I am Evora.  We mean you no harm.” I slowly approached the creature.  I was immediately hit by the sensation of fear and power.  It emanated from the creature in waves and hit my mind like pricks of light.  My instincts—  No, she somehow relayed to me that I had to quickly make it clear to her that she had nothing to fear from me.  If I made the wrong move, I sensed she would rip me apart.  Somehow her emotions were being imparted to me.  Perhaps this was how she communicated.

The creature observed me, warily.  It seemed uncomfortable and shivered slightly, as if cold, despite the warm day and sun beating down on the road.

I went to one of the packs we carried and produced a blanket, one that Lilian and Gabriel had brought with them from Goldfire Glen all those months ago.  Unfolding it, I slowly approached the creature.  “This will keep you warm.” I stated.  Then, I wrapped the blanket around me to show her what I had intended.

She let me put the blanket on her, gathering it around her and held it tightly.  Though she said nothing, waves of relief bombarded my consciousness.  

Yes, I was correct.  It was empathy.  She was using empathy to communicate with me.  It suddenly occurred to me that the reason she did not attack us was because she was sensing our love for Lilian and our hope that this creature was her. 

“Look!” Rin pointed down the road behind her.  

I saw a lone figure on the road coming toward us quickly.  It was coming at a fast pace, running at great speed.

“It’s Talon!” Shallahai exclaimed.  “He’s alive!”

I looked at the creature before me and skeptically looked at the figure of Talon approaching.  I made a silent prayer to Canaan that the figure approaching was indeed Talon and not some other abomination.

The creature sensed our attention drawn down the road and whirled around to meet the incoming monk.  

“He is a friend.” I explained.  “He will not harm you.”

She seemed unaffected by my words.  I sensed only wariness and a build up of power.

I placed my hand on her shoulder to emphasize that I needed her to listen to me.  My mind was assaulted by waves of surprise, followed by disgust, annoyance and hate.  She whirled around and prepared to smack me.  I cringed and quickly removed my hand from her shoulder, sorry for the perceived offense.  Her hand stopped in mid-air.  The blow never came.

Moments later, Talon arrived.  

“Hello, friends.” Talon bowed.  “I must apologize for my hasty exit earlier.  I had the most interesting sensation that I could not properly process.  My heart wanted to stay and complete the ritual, but my mind told my feet to run.”  Talon explained as if completely unaware of the mayhem his action caused.  He simply explained his lapse of judgment as one would explain the first time one rode a horse or made love to a woman.  

“This strange environment is overtaking the land.  I seem to have made a mess of things.”  He observed, matter-of-factly.  Then he noticed that Lilian was standing, and not a corpse.  He inched closer to her, observing, studying her.

“Fascinating.” He breathed.  “I don’t think she’s human.”

Clearly I misjudged Talon.  He wasn’t oblivious to what was going on, he was naïve or not socially programmed to react the way a normal person would react to such things.  Ever since he had returned as a half Faean creature he seemed steeped in his own experience, more concerned with the experience than the effect of his actions.  

“How far does this insanity reach, Talon.” Shallahai asked, pain evident on his face.

“A few miles, at least.  I believe that if unchecked, it will reach Goldfire Glen in a matter of hours.”  Talon stated matter-of-factly.

“We can’t let that happen.” Shallahai announced, gritting his teeth.

“What can we do about it?” Rin asked.  “We seem woefully unequipped to stop this—this thing from spreading.  Do we even know what is causing it?” 

“Yes.” I answered.

All eyes turned to me, then.

“The realm of insanity is bleeding into our dimension.  Based on my interpretation of the Book of Abu-Abai, the ritual to summon and bind the Horror has four parts.  First, the Opening of the Mirror, next the Summoning, then the Binding, then the Closing of the Mirror.  The last two parts of the ritual were not completed due to its disruption.”  I explained.

I glanced at Talon and quickly looked away, shamed at the small display of judgment conveyed by my glance.  I was weak.  My faith was shaken.  My mind was on the verge of breaking, and I was exhausted.

Thankfully, he seemed unaffected by my words.  

“The Opening of the Mirror creates a conduit between our dimension and the Realm of Insanity, which from what I can make out is both a far off dimension and one that wraps our world like a cocoon.  I don’t quite understand it.  And it could just be the insane ramblings of the author of this book.  But I am willing to believe anything at this point.”  I was, too.  What was happening was so alien, so beyond my experience, I could only draw at straws.  I thanked Canaan for my ability to put faith in the unknown.  Otherwise, I think I might have discarded the Book of Abu Abai as nothing but ramblings of a mad man.

Shallahai shifted uncomfortably at my words.  Rin just listened.  And Talon merely stared at the abomination that Lilian had become.  Thankfully, Hu Li was silent.

I wearily continued.  “Once the Horror has been bound, the ritual leader must close the Mirror to seal away the far Realm of Insanity from our dimension.  If that last step is not taken, a door will remain open between that alien realm and ours.  That realm will continue to bleed into our world until the Ebon Mirror is closed.”

“Balian failed then.” Rin said.  “He was unable to contain the Horror.”  He stated what all of us had been thinking.  “It does not surprise me.  You saw what that creature did to Hu Li with one swift movement.”

Rin echoed what I have feared ever since I read that passage in the Book of Abu Abai.  The Ebon Mirror has not been closed because Balian is unable to perform the final part of the ritual.  I prayed to Canaan that Balian was not dead.

Balian was odd, for sure.  And despite what Hu Li would have us believe, I think Hu Li’s apprenticeship to the scabrous summoner would have been bearable, had Hu Li not been certifiably insane and so constitutionally incapable of following orders from the very beginning.  There was a fatherly aspect to the old mage that I just couldn’t put my finger on.  Yes, he was ornery and arrogant.  He definitely had no sense of propriety.  And I’m not even sure he was one of Canaan’s creatures, what with the talking tentacles coming out of his back.  I can’t be sure that Balian was merely one creature.  But…I sigh as I write this…I liked him.

I liked Balian.  I wanted to learn from him.  He was my best chance at becoming an arcanist.  His knowledge was so vast and his power so profound, that I could have become one of Turgos’ greatest wizards under his tutelage.  This is a completely selfish thought, I realize this.  And thankfully, enough time has gone by since I experienced these thoughts that I have been able to process them and acknowledge my own weakness.  I have prayed for forgiveness, and I dare say it was granted.  Canaan had other plans for me, of this I was sure.  The path I would have gone down had Balian become my teacher would have lead to oblivion.  But I get ahead of myself. 

The abomination that Lilian had become seemed to observe all of us intently.  She ignored Talon’s attentions and focused instead on our communications.  I remember doubting at the time that she could possibly understand us.  In retrospect, it was quite a foolish underestimation.

Lilian quietly moved with the grace of a cat over to Hu Li and observed him, cocking her head slightly as she moved up and down his length.  Her hand shot out so quickly, nobody could stop her.  She grabbed Hu Li’s chest in her hand.  What happened next is hard to explain.  Pulses of purple energy shot down her arm into Hu Li.  Hu Li’s body jerked with each pulse and he screamed.

It was over in seconds.  Everyone was stunned, uncomprehending of what had just happened.

Hu Li opened his eyes then.  His irises had turned purple!

“You, my dear, are a goddess.” Hu Li rose as he spoke, apparently cured of his afflictions.

The abomination that Lilian had become merely turned and looked at me.  

“Take me home.” It said without expression.

I was silent, stunned.  We must have looked absurd to this creature with our mouths agape in uncomprehending wonder.

“This body is cold, like your world.  And your minds are puny.  Take me to this Ebon Mirror.  I must cross The Threshold.  You will help me.”  It continued in a flat, emotionless voice.

Gathering composure somewhat, I ventured a question.  “W-who are you?”  I asked.

“My name is impossible to pronounce in your language.  Adress me as…Illyria.”  

This couldn’t be good.


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## Canaan (Jul 7, 2008)

*Chapter 39: Return to Balian's Tower*

My first thought was to tend to Hu Li, make sure he was alright.  I hurried over to the mage and put my hand on his elbow with a questioning look.  I was concerned for his health and more than a little discomfited by his newly purpled irises.

In typical Hu Li fashion, my concern was rebuffed as he jerked his elbow away from me.  “What, _priest_?  If I wanted to be touched by you, I would become your altar boy.” Hu Li screeched.

I suddenly didn’t care anymore whether or not Hu Li was well.  My face felt warm under the mage’s rebuff.  If my mind hadn’t been pre-occupied with trying to intellectualize what was happening with Lilian, or Illyria, I might have lost my temper.  Instead, I turned to Illyria, questions filling my mind.  “What of our friend, Lilian, the one who’s body you possess?”

“Lilian doesn’t live here anymore.  This sack of water and sponge was empty when I arrived.”  Illyria responded.

The callous response took me off-guard and before I could ask another question, Illyria asked, “Which way is it to the Ebon Mirror?”  

I pointed toward Balian’s Tower.  

Illyria immediately began walking in that direction.

Spurred into action by her departure, I quickly began gathering our things and saw that the others did the same.  We ran after her.

“What is that thing?” Rin asked Hu Li.

Hu Li turned to the Dark-Sider, eyes blazing with intensity.  “You cannot possibly comprehend what that creature is, demon.  Revel in its magnificence.”

“You keep speaking of an Ebon Mirror. Where was this Ebon Mirror?” Shallahai asked me in a conspiratorial tone.  “I don’t remember seeing a mirror in the ritual chamber.”

“It was the black pool under the floor.” I answered patiently with the knowledge I had obtained from the Book of Abu Abai.  “Balian was its guardian.  That is why he did not leave the tower.  The mirror cannot be moved.  It is fixed in place.”

I continued.  “Balian was trying to leave for some purpose.  That is why he summoned the Horror to guard the mirror in his absence.  From his scribblings in the margins of the Book, I gather it has something to do with his sister and Kharas’Voorhies.”

“I didn’t know he had a sister.” Hu Li piped up, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation.  

I sighed.  “She and Kharas’Voorhies were apparently in love when Kharas’Voorhies lived.  And she disappeared on his death.  Balian theorizes that she is still in Turgos and fears that she has been transformed by the lich into some abomination.  He seeks to obtain information on her whereabouts in the realm of insanity by consulting some sage-like creature.”  I explained.

We traveled through the alien landscape to Balian’s Tower.  I sunk into myself in an effort to block out the sights I saw.  It gave me the opportunity to think things through.  I had witnessed a servant of Canaan and good friend killed and possessed by an entity of apparently great and terrible power.  What had gone wrong to get us to this point?  I was traveling through the afterbirth of a realm that had no business in this dimension, a realm I had briefly experienced once before and had hoped never to experience again, but such was not Canaan’s plan for me.  I should have been carrying Lilian’s corpse to Soliel to the Voice and Will.  I should have been atoning for my weakness in the temples.  I should have been trying to convert the Dark Sider, Rin, or at least trying to save his immortal soul.  I should have been trying to warn the Duke that it is possible that those that worship the Sleeping Gods in the land to the south are planning an invasion of Turgos.  I should have been fulfilling my penance as demanded by Archbishop Tagavarius to discover the Adversarial plot that threatened Turgos.  So why didn’t I do those things?  Why was traveling to the place of my likely death to assist an abomination that had taken control of my former best friend’s corpse?  

It was because I was curious.  

Canaan help me, but that was why I did what I did.  Curiosity.  It was at that moment that I first realized that my decisionmaking process was flawed or becoming corrupted.  I no longer approached decisionmaking from the perspective of duty.  I have been a terrible example to myself and the others.  I was failing as a priest.  Canaan forgive me.

Once at the tower, we saw what had become of the giant ducks that lived outside of the tower.  They had tripled in size, their eyes were bloodshot and their tongues were black and pointed, like a tentacle.  They flapped their wings furiously and attacked us on sight.

It was over before it began.

Illyria moved with the speed and grace of a jungle cat.  She surveyed the field and with an outstretched hand, palm forward, she swept the entire field of the dozen or so terrifying giant flightless birds.  The next instant she was standing over the dead creatures without so much as a scratch on her.  I didn’t actually see her do anything.  One second the flightless birds were alive and attacking, the next they were dead, necks broken.  Nobody had moved, except Illyria.  It was as if she moved faster than time, itself.

“H-how, did you do that?” I asked.  

Illyria did not answer.  She kept walking toward the Tower, approaching the drawbridge.

I looked at Shallahai questioningly.  He merely shrugged his shoulders and followed Illyria.

Furniture was overturned and strewn everywhere.  We heard a shriek coming from the great dining hall.  Running to the source of the sound, we entered the hall and saw Orolde crouched behind a large section of the broken, charred and overturned dining table, the table at which he had once dined when Lilian was alive.  A large brain-like creature hovered in the air on the other side of the table.  Its mass was interrupted by a protruding beak that shrieked loudly as it dodged a blue-white ray of frost that Orolde emitted from his pointed index finger as he shouted arcane syllables.  Long tentacles draped from the bottom of the creature and hung to the floor.  Orolde was bruised and bleeding from several scrapes.  His finery was ripped and dirty.

Rin blasted it with a bolt of purplish arcane energy, drawing its attention to us.  I drew my mace as Shallahai stepped up, calling on the power of the Green to bolster him as he drew Yundir.  Talon took a defensive stance, ready to intercept the creature should it choose to engage any of us.  As the creature advanced, tentacles quivering in rage, intent on grappling the Dark Sider that had injured it, Talon was a flurry of punches and kicks.  The creature was unprepared for the full fury of the monk and fell to his blows.

Orolde came out from under the table, breathing heavily.  “Thank you.  Oh thank you!  I thought I was done for until you arrived.”

“What is happening here?” Shallahai asked.  “Where is Balian?”

“Balian and the Horror, they are trapped in a never-ending contest of wills within the Ebon Mirror.  They must be dislodged from the Mirror and the Mirror allowed to close.” Orolde pleaded with us.

“Assuming that is possible, what will become of Balian?” Talon asked.

“I don’t know.  He could be killed by the backlash.  He could be shunted into the Realm of Insanity.  He could be killed by the Horror.” Orolde posited.  “But he spoke to me in my mind just before all of this happened.  ‘Have no worry about me, my friend, for the sake of all of Turgos, the Ebon Mirror must be closed’ He said.  I don’t have the strength or the power.  I don't have enough command of magic!”

“We must try.” I was firmly committed to this course of action.  We needed to get the creature possessing Lilian out of her body and we needed to stop the dimensional bleeding.  Closing the mirror accomplished both of those things.

Illyria looked around, as if sensing something.  Suddenly, she turned toward the stairs to the basement and walked rapidly and purposely toward them, to the Summoning Chamber.

We quickly followed.  There was no time to debate our purpose or our tactics and I was silently relieved by that fact.  I wasn’t entirely sure I could diplomatically suffer any opposition to my plan.

The stone floor of the chamber was still open in the middle of the room, revealing the still black waters of the Ebon Mirror.  Above the pool Balian and the Horror stood in seeming stasis, locked in eternal combat.  Balian’s tentacles grappled with the Horror’s.  The Horror’s mouth was gaping open as if it would take Balian’s head off.  Balian’s forehead was furrowed in concentration and his lips seemed to be in the process of mouthing a spell.

We stopped at the door and marveled at the grotesque sight.  I knew what to do and would not be swayed from my course.  I quickly barked instructions at the others, telling them to form a circle around the pool, just as before.  I then opened the Book of Abu-Abai and began incanting the words necessary for the ritual to close the mirror.

A white column of fire shot up from the pool towering toward the ceiling.  This was the part of the ritual by which the mirror would be closed.  The thrum of power was deafening.  Our bodies were vibrating with potency as the magic lashed from one to another of us.  

But something wasn’t right.  I felt resistance to the incantation.  It was like two magnets coming together.  They are drawn together initially, but repelled when they get to close.  Like two magnets, the magic seemed to pass over the Mirror and not penetrate it. 

“Somehow we have to get them out of the Mirror.  Balian and that creature have wedged open the Mirror in their struggle.”  I yelled over the thrum of power now emanating from all of us.  

“It has to be done now!” I yelled desperately, barely containing the arcane magicks I had conjured.

Everything began to slow down, nearly to a halt.  My movements and those of everyone and everything else around me slowed and ground to a halt.  In that moment, Illyria ran, with the speed of a cheetah, into the pool and bull rushed both Balian and the Horror.


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## iStrider (Jul 14, 2008)

Great updates!!! Keep them coming!


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## Canaan (Jul 15, 2008)

*Chapter 40: The Gift*

A flash of energy burst forth from the Mirror, blasting all of us roughly back.  When we recovered, Balian, the Horror and Illyria were gone and the Mirror was closed.  The column of white fire was extinguished.  I grimaced, as I got up and looked around the chamber.

Balian and Lilian’s body were gone.  They were trapped in the Realm of Insanity with no way to return.  I had sentenced them to a fate worse than death.  I lowered my head in despair.

Shallahai must have seen the look on my face.  “It was not your fault, Evora.  You could not have known the result of the ritual.”  The druid tried to soothe me.  But his words were nothing to me.  I knew the risk.  Orolde warned us.  

A wry, self-depracating retort was on my lips, when Hu Li cried out.  “Oh by the Eyeless Hollow Ones, priest!  You should never have tried to master such powerful magics.  They are well beyond your puny ability to comprehend the Art!  Now, look upon oblivion!” 

Startled by his expression, I looked at the mage.  His eyes were wide and he was pointing to the center of the pool.  A spark of energy pulsed in the air.  It grew as we stared at it, bulbous, like a growth of purple algae.  As we stared further, the growth became the size of a child’s ball, then it grew to the size of a lockbox, then a chest.  We all began to back up.  Had the mirror not closed?

A squishing sound began to emanate from the growth as it reached the size of a human.  It started heaving as it squished, like it was trying to cough something up, its heaves becoming increasingly forceful, building into a crescendo that ended with Lilian’s body being expelled from it in a cascade of slimy liquid smelling of bleach!  Canaan be praised!  

A shared a look of ecstatic surprise with Shallahai and when I turned back to the body, my heart sunk at what I saw emerge from the heaving sphincter.  A jellyfish like creature emerged above Lilian’s body, making a slurping sound as it entered our world.  But it did not attack.  It merely hovered there for a moment.  I looked questioningly at Hu Li.  But his gaze was transfixed on the creature.

Then it spoke in our minds.

_Thank you for your assistance in showing me the way home.  This sack of water and sponge does not belong in my realm.  I find your emotional interaction with it interesting.  I would study this interaction if I could tolerate your harsh climate.  Perhaps I will return some day.  In the meantime, I have returned to the sack its power source.  It should function without assistance, now._

The jellyfish-like creature disappeared back into the rift.  The Ebon Mirror was still and silent.  

Lilian gasped for breath and her chest rose and fell.  Tears of joy fell undeterred down my face as I wept for joy.

And Hu Li fainted dead away.  

“Magics beyond his puny ability to comprehend, indeed!” Shallahai sneered at the mage as the thud of his head hitting the stone floor echoed through the chamber.

I fell to my knees in praise to Canaan.


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## iStrider (Jul 21, 2008)

More, more, I want more!


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## Canaan (Jul 27, 2008)

*Chapter 41: Homecomings*

Several weeks have passed since I last wrote and much has happened in that time.  Lilian apparently remembered nothing of the time after her death or the means of her return to us.  She continues to believe it was by Canaan’s will that she was returned to us.  So be it.  I am just overjoyed to have her back, by whatever means that was made possible.  Though, I did maintain a healthy kernel of doubt in the back of my mind that there would be some unknown price to pay for the beneficence of the creature that returned her to us, and an equally healthy kernel of concern that Lilian would not be quite right now that she had been dead and returned by such unorthodox means.  I kept both my doubt and concern to myself, because, well, it’s what I do.

Hu Li practically ignored me, refusing to communicate directly with me, taking instead to enlisting the aid of the others when he absolutely needed to speak with me, despite the fact that I was present.   It was in this manner that Hu Li eagerly announced that he would stay at Balian’s tower since the ancient wizard was gone.  We were all eating dinner one night—a succulent glazed duck served as the main course—when Hu Li made his announcement.  “Shallahai, please tell the priest that I shall remain in the tower.  I find its dankness and seclusion much more palatable than traveling with His Hoity Toity Holiness, the Banisher of the Eyeless Hollow Ones.  Besides, there is much here I must do.” he shrieked as he plunged his yellowed teeth into a juicy duck leg, spurting juice across the table.  There was a greedy glint in his eye.  

Shallahai rolled his eyes and scowled.  “Tell him yourself, you childish oaf!”  The druid had no patience for the mage’s antics.

I had visions of the upstart mage ransacking the place for Balian’s secret cache of magical power.  But I no longer cared what became of the selfish wizard.  Let him stay in that tower and rot.  

Addressing Rin, Hu Li then announced that he would be claiming possession of Orolde as well.  “Rin, please be so kind as to inform the priest that I now own Orolde by virtue of intestate succession.  Balian is missing and presumed dead.  He does not have an obvious will.  Orolde was his servant.  The creature is now mine.  If the priest objects, please tell him to write his objection on a piece of parchment and I will promptly lodge it in my bunghole.”

I, of course, protested.  I found the idea of slavery appalling.  Orolde was a living, sentient creature, not some chattel to be bought, sold or escheated.  But obstinacy and lack of compassion, being staples of Hu Li’s personality, won out and my arguments fell on deaf ears.  In the end, it was Orolde, however, who silenced my protestations.

“It is as the Master wishes.” Orolde said, staring at me as if trying to convey some secret message.

“Yes.  Your Master wishes it!”  Hu Li screeched, oblivious to the secret message in Orolde’s words.

Of course!  That clever wizard!  Balian worked something out in advance, knowing that Hu Li would seek to take advantage in the event Balian was gone.  Balian was an ancient and wise Archmage.  Surely he would have someone he trusted implicitly tend to his affairs in his absence.  Perhaps Orolde’s relationship with the Archmage was deeper than I had initially thought.  Balian never ceases to amaze me.

I nodded my head.  “Very well, then.” I stated.  And the matter was over.

Against my better judgment, we stayed a week or so to help Hu Li and Orolde get the disheveled tower back in order and to dispatch any remaining critters from the realm of insanity who sought refuge in the dark and dank places of Balian’s abode.  When we had finished, we were more than ready to move on with our lives.  I had had about enough as any mortal could take of Hu Li during that time.  I don’t know how Orolde will put up with it when we are gone.  The affects of the dimensional bleeding had long since disappeared from the countryside.  It was as if nothing had ever been amiss.

Shallahai left a few days before we did, mumbling something about Hu Li not being worthy of the air he consumes in his breathing and the world being better off without such a waste of resources.  Before he left, however, he told us he would meet us just outside of Goldfire Glen in two days’ time.  He said he wanted to speak with Master Baern about what had happened here and thought it best to do so alone.  

* * * *

By the time I write this, I have hardened my resolve to fight against the increasingly self-destructive teachings of orthodox Canaanism.  If it were not for our intercession, all of the gentle Green-worshipping peoples of Goldfire Glen would have been sacrificed to fuel the self-loathing religious zeal of Father Zeigfried.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

As promised, Shallahai met us outside of Goldfire Glen.  He brought dire news of the murder of a Faean prince, the son of some entity called, The Autumn Queen.  Despite his dire news, the druid seemed well rested and more comfortable with his surroundings.

“I heard weeping off of the trail on my way back from my visit with Master Baern, so I stopped to investigate.”  Shallahai explained.

“It was Peasblossom.  He and several other pixies were flitting around the corpse of Raelanthas, the Autumn Prince.  The pixies didn’t recognize me at first and attacked.  I removed my cowl and called on The Green to calm them.  They came out of their enraged state and began crying at my feet.” Shallahai explained.

“What manner of royalty is The Autumn Prince?” Lilian asked.  “I don’t recognize that title among the nobility of Turgos.”

“That is because it is no mortal title, my friend.” Shallahai responded.  The Autumn Queen is one of the four Faean that rule the Faean Court in the Land of Fae Rie.”

Lilian looked thoughtful as if trying to place the Land of Fae Rie in her mind.

“The Land of Fae Rie does not appear on any map.  Or perhaps more appropriately, it is on every map.”  Shallahai explained with a childish grin.

Lilian was utterly confused.

“Fae Rie is a dimension that exists co-terminus with Turgos.  A veil separates the Land of Fae Rie from ours, but the landscape is the same.  No buildings or villages or towns or cities, as Turgosians know them, exist in Fae Rie.  Rather, vast glades and glens and tree forests form the towns and cities of Fae Rie, where pixies paint the trees the nymphs populate the lakes and rivers and satyrs and fawns play and copulate.  Fae Rie is The Green’s reflection of Turgos.”  Shallahai explained.

“The Faean Court is responsible for maintaining the seasons and cycles of Turgos.  Each Faean, each creature of Fae Rie, has a role to play in the changing of the seasons.  Peasblossom, whom you’ve met, for example, is responsible for making the peas blossom in the spring.  He does this by telling them little pixie jokes until they cannot contain themselves any longer and burst open with laughter.”  Shallahai continued.

“Well, what does it mean that the Autumn Prince has been murdered?” I asked.

“Another will take his place, for sure.” Shallahai responded.  “But The Autumn Queen will be quite angry, as it looks like her son may have been killed by a mortal.”

“A mortal?  Who would do such a thing?” I asked.  “Surely no common man would do that, perhaps it was one of the Orcus-worshippers or Kharas Voorhies’s minions.”  

Shallahai’s face darkened.  “Regardless of which mortal did it or what that mortal’s motivations were, these are difficult times and word of intolerance in Turgos toward The Green has made its way to the Autumn Queen’s ear.  It is entirely possible that she will view this event as the last straw and lead a war against Turgos.”  

“How do you know this, Shallahai?” Talon asked.

“I have spoken with the pixies and learned much of what has been happening.  I do not believe Goldfire Glen will welcome one such as me.”  The druid looked then at Rin and gestured to the Darksider.  “Or him.”

“We will, of course, do what we can to solve this murder.  Perhaps the Queen will be appeased by the arrest and imprisonment of the mortal that killed her son.”  Lillian offered.

“I’m afraid you don’t know the Fae very well, Lilian.”  Shallahai said, ominously.

“Is there any chance that Raelanthas’s murderer was not a mortal?” Rin asked.

“It is possible.” Shallahai responded.  “I found some curious clues when I investigated the area where his body was found.”  But the druid didn’t seem convinced.  “We need to get to Goldfire Glen.” 

* * * *

We returned to Goldfire Glen weary.  It turned out that none of them had any idea of the crisis that had just been averted, that they had come within a hair’s breadth of sinking into a realm of insanity.  But had you, the reader, not known the fate that could have been theirs, you would think, based on the scene we witnessed upon entering town, that that fate had indeed come to pass; such was the insanity we came upon.  

In preparation for our homecoming, we of course, disguised Rin.  Returning to town with a demon in tow would not have been advisable in even the best of times, and these were certainly not those.  Rin entered town disguised as a new initiate in Talon’s order, complete with brown robe, gloves, boots and deep hood.  We, likewise, disguised Shallahai. So Talon had two ‘apprentices’ in tow when he arrived.  To further minimize the risk of exposure, we decided to enter the village just before dawn.

The Evenflow River, with its crystal clear waters, ran sedately through a verdant meadow, dividing the edge of the plain from the small village of Goldfire Glen lying across the span of a wide stone bridge.  Even in the early moments just before dawn, there was movement on the outskirts of the village, townsfolk awake and starting their daily chores.  Over the cool northern breeze, we could make out the sounds of cattle in the distance; the livestock also awakening as a number of roosters threw back their heads and began a chorus to welcome the sun.

Oddly, in the center of town, a crowd gathered around a charismatic figure, giving an impassioned speech.  It was Father Zeigfried.  He was standing on the outer rim of the ancient marble fountain that adorned the center of town.  The fountain’s main feature was a giant white statue of the Angel Cilestriel, said to be a messenger from Canaan who came to the people of Goldfire Glen long ago in a time of darkness and despair and gave them hope.  Age and the elements had not dulled the statue’s beauty.  It was carved by Goldfire Glen’s greatest artisan of the time, Lucien Vannos.  His descendents are said to still reside in Goldfire Glen, practicing the family trade.

The beauty and tranquility of the fountain laid in stark contrast to the ugliness that spewed from Father Zeigfried’s mouth.  He stood on the rim of the fountain, flanked by two Justicars.  His lips were turned down into a condescending scowl that eyed the crowd with the indignation of a disappointed parent.  He was a short, thin man with a long sallow face, but the height advantage granted by his perch gave him the illusion of greater presence and allowed his harsh grating voice to carry above the gathered crowd.

I scanned the crowd.  In their eyes was a mixture of fear and anger at Father Zeigfried’s words.

“Hear me!” shouted the white-robed priest of Canaan.  “I told you this would happen!  I warned you that the faean could not be trusted.”  He held up a scroll, waving it over his head as his other hand waved to encompass the rest of the villagers.  “It is written in the sacred texts, ‘Trust thee not the wiles of the wicked ones, for their tongues speaketh only of deception.  Their lies shall lead thee directly into the pits of darkness, for death can be the only reward for those who would listen to their words’.”

The villagers all responded with a shout of agreement, raising their own hands overhead as they echo his words.  Father Zeigfried turned, his finger shooting out to indicate a hut in the distance, around which were posted Justicars brandishing both gleaming weapons and blazing torches.

“Tonight, we found the bodies of a family… our friends… who have been ruthlessly slaughtered in their sleep.”  I shared a quick look with the druid, seeing the color drain from his face.  Could this be what he feared, why he knew we needed to get to Goldfire Glen as quickly as possible?

“Our neighbors, who worked with us in the fields, are dead at the hands of the FAEAN!”  Zeigfried punctuated his words by once more throwing his hands to the heavens and turning back towards the gathered villagers, “The wicked ones have returned, and it is our sacred duty to drive them from our homes, our hearts and our souls once and forever!”

Shallahai’s face darkened dangerously. He looked like a madman about to attack Zeigfried.  But just as it seemed Father Zeigfried was about to lead the villagers directly toward the guarded hut, an imposing figure stepped from inside the hut, heading purposefully towards the gathering.  Wearing a golden cloak thrown over his left shoulder, the shining fabric visible even in the dim light, he approached purposefully, raising his voice to be heard over the shouting, “Zeigfried, that’s enough!  There is nothing to be gained by this right now.  All the rest of you, go back to your homes, let the guard take care of this.”

“Captain Tiberon, the people have a right to know what is going on,” the young priest replied angrily, but he was interrupted by yet another voice.

“Tiberon, Zeigfried, both of you, stop it.”  A third figure emerged into the village center, the villagers clearing a path for the nobleman.  Around his neck was a medallion bearing the symbol of one of the noble houses of Turgos.  It was Lord Derren Underhill, baron of Goldfire Glen.  Pale eyes turned first from the priest to the guard captain and back again, “This is not helping anyone.”  That same gaze was turned upon the villagers, who suddenly seemed to find the ground extremely interesting as they ruefully shuffled their feet.  “Go home, everyone, it’s almost dawn and time to get to work.  We cannot allow this … atrocity… to interrupt our daily routines.  Let the guard take care of what needs to be done, please.

At the baron’s words, the villagers began to disperse, casting looks back towards the guard captain or the priest before disappearing into their own homes.  Just then, the old man’s pale eyes fell on us, a curious glint was in his eye, as he regarded us fully.  Father Zeigfried and Captain Tiberon noticed the barren’s gaze, following it to us.

“Lady Lillian,” The baron began with a gracious bow.  “It seems you have come back to us at a difficult time.”  He continued, gesturing to the hut and the captain and the priest in one fluid motion.

The baron’s gaze turned to me, then.  “Ah, and Father Evora, what a pleasant surprise.” The glint in the baron’s eye remained.  Father Zeigfried spat on the ground.

“We could use Canaan’s guidance in these trying times.  He has obviously chosen this time to send one of His chosen, and her personal confessor, to guide us through these troubled times.”

I looked down at the fountain’s inscription as the crowd dispersed.  It read:

_And in humanity’s darkest hour, amidst fear and violence,
Canaan shall send his emissary from the heaven’s above
And save mankind from the oppression of its own intolerance.​_
My course was clear.  My purpose, revealed.  I would not abandon the people of Goldfire Glen.  I would not rest until the peace and tranquility of Goldfire Glen was restored.  I looked at Lord Underhill and responded.  “Yes, my lord.  We will, of course, do what is required to put this matter to rest and, if appropriate, dispel any notion that it is the doing of the Faean.”

Father Zeigfried turned on his heel in a huff and proceeded to the castle with his two attendant Justicars in tow.  

Captain Tiberon breathed a sigh of relief.


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## iStrider (Jul 30, 2008)

Canaan said:


> “The wicked ones have returned, and it is our sacred duty to drive them from our homes, our hearts and our souls once and forever!”




Ohh how I HATE Father Zeigfried!   

Another great update!  Keep them coming!


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit (Jul 31, 2008)

Somehow I managed to miss the latest couple of updates before today! I'm all caught up now though - and still loving this storyhour.

And I second everything iStrider just said.


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