# DM Brainiac's Prison of the Firebringer (Updated 12/21/05)



## ltclnlbrain

_Beneath the ruins of an ancient citadel, a great evil force has begun gathering allies to its cause. Imprisoned there for generations, the Firebringer longs to be free and rain vengeance upon the Realms. Brigands along the Surbrin Way have been ambushing caravans, capturing prisoners for some unknown purpose. The call has gone out for powerful adventurers to combat this new threat._

Hello, ENWorlders, and welcome to my story hour!  I am a long-time lurker, first-time poster who has decided to turn his play-by-post campaign into an exciting, action-packed story hour for your reading enjoyment.  The adventures that the story hour is based on is "Prison of the Firebringer" from Dungeon #101, followed by "Glacier Season" from Dungeon #87 and "Strike on the Rabid Dawn" in another issue of Dungeon.  The actual game is being played here if you are interested in checking it out.

Dramatis Personae:
Allanon Harpell, male human sorcerer/wild mage
Aspar Tenerect, female fire genasi ranger/dragonstalker
Berek, male dwarf barbarian/frenzied berserker
Galiana Silvermane, female half-elf fighter
Gillian Lightfoot, female halfling monk/spiked chain master
Grundar, male elf rogue/fighter/duelist
Jelani Sandulf, male human cleric/wizard/mystic theurge
Rumar Destare, male aasimar paladin/anointed one
Rhys Thurn, male aasimar cleric/contemplative
Serrila Destare, female aasimar sorcerer
Taigiel, male half-dragon human ranger
Terenon, male human evoker


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 1*

Chapter 1

Silverymoon, the Gem of the North, is a legendary city skirting the Savage Frontier; a beacon of culture and civilization shining forth from some of Faerun's most dangerous and uncivilized lands. Its beautiful architecture, ranging from the vaulted steeples of the city's many temples to the gilded domes of the palace itself, draws comparisons to some of the greatest living cities of Faerun, and even to cities long since passed into dust and ruin.  But Allanon Harpell was not interested in the fancy construction work this day.  He was late.  

Allanon hurried through the city toward the offices of the Three Shields Coster merchant company, holding the hem of his robe up so as not to trip on it.  The call had gone out for adventurers to investigate the disappearance of one of the company’s caravans, and the promised excitement and reward had appealed to the mage’s wanderlust and desire for adventure.  Unfortunately, he had slept in late today, head still buzzing from the previous night’s drink and his dalliance with his lover, Deirdriel Elethneril.  Now he hoped to Mystra that he hadn’t missed the meeting.

After a few more minutes, the mage breathed a sigh of relief as he finally came upon the offices of the merchant company.  Pausing momentarily to catch his breath, he stepped inside and asked the clerk to direct him to the office of Merik Thornridge, the owner of the Three Shields Coster.  Knocking softly on the door, a tall man in fancy clothes and with a modestly large paunch of a gut greeted him.

“You made it just in time,” said the man, Thornridge.  “I was just about to explain the situation.  Come in.”

Smiling sheepishly, Allanon entered the office and looked around at the other occupants.  They were all adventurers by the look of them, quietly sipping on water or reclining on couches.  The first was a human man in brown robes, also a mage of some sort judging by the pouches of spell components on his belt and the intelligent gleam in his eyes.  The second was a tall elf, dressed in fine clothes and sporting a single rapier by his side and a large bow on his back.  The third was a man in fine clothing with a green hooded cloak, though there seemed to be something otherworldly about him.  His eyes were steel gray touched with gold, and his black hair shoulder length, with a streak of gold in it.  He carried a strange staff shaped in the likeness of a gold dragon, and a holy symbol of Torm rested on his neck.  The final person was a small Halfling woman clad in normal clothing with a wicked-looking spiked chain coiled at her belt and a fierce purpose and determination in her eyes.

Taking a seat on one of the couches, Allanon listened as Thornridge began his tale of woe.

“The latest caravan from Nesme is three days late now, and I fear the worst. It was carrying bolts of Tethyrian brocade and casks of Tashalan wine and was bound to Silverymoon along the Surbrin Way. There have been numerous reports of bandit activity in the vicinity; why, not more then a tenday ago, a pair of wagons belonging to the Silver Blade Coster disappeared as well! We had hired some adventurers as added protection for our shipment, but apparently they weren't enough.”

"I will pay you each 5,000 gold pieces if you find out what happened to the caravan and eliminate these dangerous bandits from the area. If you follow the Surbrin Way west from town, hopefully you will come across some evidence of the fate of the caravan.”

Frowning in thought, the brown-robed mage spoke.  “That seems an extravagant reward for some errant wine. Before sending out some of the best people in their field to investigate, I would have guessed that other information gathering parties had been sent. Has this been done? Why kill a fly with a catapult?"

It was now Merik’s turn to frown. "Yes, well, that is the problem, you see. We have hired wizards to cast scrying spells on the caravan, but all of them have met with failure. This has lead us to believe that some sort of greater power is blocking their attempts. We fear that the one powerful enough to do this may be behind the bandit menace, which is why the danger level on this mission is higher then normal. Indeed, the wine is not of much value compared to the payment we are offering. But if these attacks continue unhindered, the revenue we will be losing will be much more than the reward. Thus, the increased pay.”

"But I'm sure it will not be too dangerous for such august personages as yourselves," Thornridge added, smiling.

The mage nodded with a knowing smile. “Fine, fine. I will need a map of the trade route used and where the attacks occurred. Were any of the bodies recovered from the attacks?"

Merik handed Terenon a map of the Surbrin Way, a farily direct road that followed the River Surbrin and connects Nesme in the west to Silverymoon at its eastern end. Towards the center of the route, another road branched northward, passing between the Lurkwood and the Frost Hills.

"We have not sent any parties out to search for the caravans yet, for we fear to risk our own people against the bandits. You should find evidence of their passage somewhere along the Surbrin Way.  The northern road leads to an abandoned vale where the Dungeon of the Ruins sits. It is an old wizard's college that was destroyed centuries ago. Many adventurers have met their fate in those ruins, but none have ventured there for nearly twenty years now.”

The mage examined the map, with the others looking on.  “This will do fine sir,” he said.  “I shall go investigate.”  With that, he stood up and left the office.  The other assembled adventurers looked on in surprise as he walked out.  There will still some questions they wished to ask, and they had assumed they would be working together, and were quite startled by the man’s seeming disregard for them.

“Poor guy,” the elf remarked.  “He's probably going to get himself killed when he walks right into the bandit camp.”

The cleric merely shrugged and turned his attention to Thornridge.  “Why are you asking for our help and not the local officials?” he asked.  “I understand your desire to replace your losses but it does tend to make it look a bit unofficial, does it not? Also, what do you know about that wizard’s college?”

"Well, this is only the first caravan that we have lost contact with,” replied Thornridge.  “And the Silver Blade Coster hasn't lost any of their shipments since the first one a tenday ago, so the officials don't believe it is much of a threat as of yet. But I fear that the attacks will only escalate if we do nothing, which is why I have come to you.”

"I'm afraid I don't know too much about the old college. Most of the adventurers didn't find too much of interest in the ruins, besides the usual monsters and squatters that inhabit such places. Nobody has been there recently, though, so I don't know the current state of affairs.”

The halfling lass, who had been sitting quietly up until this point, suddenly spoke up.  “And what protection have you offered the halfling communities in the area”, she demanded crossly. “I’ve heard tell of at least three incidents of bandits harassing my people within the last week, and what has been done about it, I ask you?  I don’t care about your money, but something has to be done or many innocents will suffer”, she concluded, settling back in a huff.

Thornridge held out his hands to appease her.  "I am sorry, lass, but we have enough problems looking after and running our own company to be worried about the halflings. No offense meant, of course. I will say, though, that the Rivermoot and the other halfling settlements in the area are along the Surbrin Way, so it seems that our problem and your problem is the same. You do not have to accept the reward, if you wish; it is merely an offer."

The blonde elf had been sitting casually, listening to the caravan master's problem, but now he sat up.

"5,000 is not really up to my usual fees, but I’ll make an exception this time--as long as we get to keep whatever we find on this mission as well,” he said with a smile.  Seeing the caravan master’s answering nod, he then turned to the others in the room.

“Since we are going to be paid the same, might as well band together and try to solve this problem without draining too much of our own resources.  My name is Grundar, and you can count on me in a fight as well as my trusty rapier, Wynona."

Grundar gently stroked the handle of his rapier, a finely crafted weapon with small crystals lining the handle, an intricate gold cage and quillons design topped off with a large ruby pommel.

The halfling just shrugged at Grundar’s suggestion. “It makes more sense than striking out on your own, you can’t collect the reward if you’re dead”, she said to him with a grin.

 “Well met, Grundar,” replied the cleric, rising from his seat.  “I'm Rhys Thurn, priest of Torm. No offense to Wynona, but I'd rather trust in you,” he said, pointing at Grundar's chest. 

Grundar smiled.  “Don’t you worry, priest.  Nothing separates Wynona and me.”

“You misunderstand, Grundar,” replied Rhys.  “It's not your passion for Wynona that I doubt, but your heart.  That is the most important element of a man when it's wielded.”  Turning toward the halfling, Rhys continued, "Greetings to you as well, madame halfling. I will help eliminate the bandits and help your community, but I urge you not to ignore the money. It can be used to help those who have suffered from the raids.”

The halfling frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose you’re right at that; I shouldn’t turn down anything that could help them”, she admitted, nodding in agreement.

Gauging the value of joining this expedition, Allanon finally spoke up.  "You can't expect merchants to help anybody for free, dear,” he said, smiling at the halfling.  “If it is this important to you, I'm sure we can sidetrack a bit and check up on the villages on the way to defeat the bandits."

"As for joining forces, it's the only way to travel. New friends are the finest reward of any adventure. Anyhow, I'm Allanon Harpell, a member of Longsaddle's famous Harpell family. Nice to meet all of you."

The halfling smiled at Allanon’s suggestion, moving up to shake hands with him. “I’m Gillian Lightfoot, though my friends call me Gil,” she introduced herself.  “I’m not sure if we’re friends yet, but at least you boys show some sense,” she added with a laugh.

“I’m in,” she told Merik, turning back to face him. “Do you have another map, or should we just follow the carrion birds that will be circling about yon madman’s head?” she asked, gesturing towards the door the brown-robed mage just walked out of.

Thornridge handed Gillian another copy of the map.  Allanon shook Thornridge’s hand to close the deal, and then glanced around the room.  “Well, I guess we’re off then?”


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 2*

Chapter 2

The sun was high in the sky as the brown-robed mage reached the top of a small rise in the road, but something was out of the ordinary. The smell of smoke lingered in the air.

At the bottom of the forested hillside lay four charred, black hulks--the remains of large, burned wagons. The burnt corpses of oxen still lay in their harnesses. Lying amid the goods and gear littering the scene were several bodies, some blackened and charred.

_Looks like a fireball might have done this,_ he thought.  _Or perhaps a fiery breath weapon of some sort._  The weather had preserved most of the evidence.  It was a solid find, and the mage hoped that it would garner a prize.

Before he could start his investigation, however, a small group of people started down the hill behind him.  He recognized them as the other adventurers from the merchant’s office.  He stood patiently as they came closer.  Allanon gasped slightly as he saw the carnage before him, guarding himself with an invisible force field in case things turned dangerous.  “I knew there had to be more to this than what we had been told,” Gillian commented to nobody in particular.  A few moments of tense silence followed.  Finally, Grundar spoke up.

“Need any help?” the elf asked the mage.  “You were in such a hurry back at Merik's office I didn't even get your name.  My name is Grundar, and I hope we can work together on this."

The mage squinted his eyes as he looked up at Grundar. "Yes, of course, I'm all about solving this problem."  The mage shot out his hand and offered it to Grundar.  "Terenon."

Terenon looked around the wreckage a bit more. "I've noticed two things that pokes holes in a common bandit theory,” he said.  “Goods left to rot. The overkill used in destroying it.  Very interesting."

The adventurers began their investigation, and, after a few minutes, the results seemed to agree with Terenon's assumptions. It seemed that the wagons had not been emptied of their contents before being set ablaze, and most of the cargo had been destroyed. The destruction of the wagons, as well as a large circular burn mark along the cart track, seemed to confirm Terenon's suspicions of a fireball being used.

The bodies' loot and equipment had been thoroughly picked through, though Grundar was able to find a strange looking staff amid the burned goods and gear. The staff was made of oak and bound with iron, and it bore a crossed-loop mage's sigil emblazoned near the staff's head, along with several splatters of blood.

The corpses of four humans in hauberks of melted mail lay near two of the wagons. They were apparently burnt to death. A female human wearing the sky-blue robes of a cleric of Mystra lay near the third wagon. The trauma to her body, as well as her crumpled shield, indicated she was killed by a crushing blow. A male dwarf lay half-crumpled over the side of the fourth wagon, several arrows protruding from his body. The last corpse was that of a halfling with a broken crossbow nearby, apparently killed by a swordcut to the belly.

Gillian immediately hurried over to the side of the fallen halfling, tears welling in her eyes.  Kneeling down beside him, she began to pray that his departed spirit might find peace in Yondalla’s arms.

Terenon plucked the staff from its resting place and began to examine it. It would seem odd that anyone would leave such a find, but it might not be magical. The mage began a small incantation, and his eyes flickered with a blue light. His eyes washed over the staff and the rest of the caravan.  Though the mage could not detect any magical emanations besides those of his companions’ equipment, he recognized the staff as a staff of fire.  Its charges utterly expended, it was little more than a hunk of wood now.  Coming up beside Terenon, Allanon agreed with his assessment.

Grundar turned from the scene of devastation and started looking around the road for tracks. He found the tracks of the caravan coming from the west, as well as those of another group coming from the northern embankment. The attackers probably charged down the hill from that direction. Their trail then led to the northwest, along a game trail through the woods.

Rhys had been rather quiet since the group had arrived.  Now, he softly spoke up.  “If you'd like and it wouldn't offend anyone, I could see if I can still reach the spirits of these departed people and see what they have to say about what happened.  If you consent, that staff the priestess’ holy symbol would be a great help with the spell.”

"I don't find such magic offensive,” said Terenon.  “I 'm sure the spirits of the departed would be happy to bring their slayers to justice. Do what you can to glean information for the investigation.”

Grundar merely shrugged at Rhys statement and said, "Hopefully, we can finish this up soon and return to enjoy our reward."

From her place beside the halfling, Gil looked up solemnly.  “This one’s soul is at peace,” she said.  “Please do not disturb him from his rest.  If you wish to question one of the other departed spirits, I suggest you do so now. The cleric of Mystra might be a good choice”, she advised Rhys.
“Otherwise I suggest we had best take up following their trail before it gets too cold”,

Rhys laid the body of the cleric out reverentially, whispering a soft prayer to Torm before beginning the spellcasting.  Allanon’s ears perked up at Rhy’s spellcasting.  "I don't believe I've seen that done before, but we don't get many clerics out at Longsaddle. I hear most religions consider us deranged, and a danger to society, though that is nonsense of course. I'd really love to see some divine magic at work.”  He watched closely as Rhys performed the spell, interest lighting his face.

After a few minutes, Rhys completed his spell.  "Spirit of Mystra's servant,” the aasimar intoned. “Pardon the interruption of your journey. There are some questions as to the circumstances of your death I seek answers to. First, who attacked the caravan you were with?”

Though the cleric's corpse lay still, a ghostly female voice on the wind answered Rhys' question.

"The attacking party consisted of a half-dozen humans in chainmail and red hoods, a malformed giant, and a red-robed cleric with numerous fire spells."

“How was the caravan attacked?”

"The caravan was proceeding along the road when a fireball shot out of the forest, followed by a hail of arrows and boulders. Then the humans and giant engaged us in melee."

“When was that caravan attacked?

"The caravan was attacked about four days ago."

“Why was the caravan attacked?”

"I don't know why the caravan was attacked. They did subdue our party's wizard, though."

“What direction did they attack from?”

"They attacked from the northwest."  With that, the voice fell silent.

Rhys opened his eyes and inhaled deeply, slowly letting it out. He shook his head a bit to clear the disorientation of communicating with the spirit, then said, "It appears that the bandits knew a caravan was coming, and the fire spells does fit in with the red-hooded cleric.  A cleric of Kossuth, perhaps?  Since the cargo is untouched, they were looking for something else.  Perhaps they were after people?”

"The attack occurred four days ago,” mused Grundar.   “It would seem we have a lot of catching up to do.  The tracks are consistent with the cleric's account.  We should follow the trail northwest as soon as possible."

"We probably won't meet up with them for a few days,” said Allanon.  “That should give us some time to prepare. Let's try to follow their tracks, or we might lose it."

Saying a prayer for the dead and leaving those that had passed at rest, the adventurers started to follow the game trail that the killers took when they left.


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## ltclnlbrain

I have the third chapter of the tale typed up and ready go, but my network connection is acting all wonky so I'm not sure when I'll be able to post it.  In this installment, the party gets into its first combat encounter, and Terenon makes a new friend.  Rest assured that it will be up some time tonight.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 3

The trail wound through the forested hills toward the northwest for about an hour's walk before joining an old stone road that had obviously fallen into disuse. The old road led north between the dark borders of the Lurkwood and the grim, snowy heights of the Frost Hills a few miles to the north.

This was to be the road that led to the vale wherein laid the fabled Dungeon of the Ruins. The adventurers followed the road to the north for another two hours as the sun began to sink below the large forest to the west. There had not been much of interest to disturb the journey.

Grundar walked along with the others, wondering what they might come across when they caught up with the bandits.  The other adventurers had proven intelligent and resourceful so far, and he had a feeling that this mission would be successful.  However, the group had yet to be tested in combat, and he wondered how well the others would handle themselves under duress.  He hoped they could get to their camp before they did away with their prisoner.  He hoped the brigands were not too difficult and that he would be able to take them down fairly easily.  But, most of all, he hoped they had a lot of treasure to be taken.

In the fading light of the late afternoon, Grundar was distracted from his reverie as his sharp eyes caught a hint of movement up ahead. The road continued straight on a level surface; to the right, it slopes upward, becoming the base of the foothills; to the left, it sloped down into a small valley. Grundar spotted it again; about 100 feet ahead on the uphill slope, a man's upper body looked out from behind a large rock. He wore a red hooded cloak over a breastplate emblazoned with a twin-flame emblem. There seemed to be other people near him, but it was hard to tell from this distance.

“Heads up, guys,” the elf whispered.  “Looks like trouble up ahead.”  He pointed out the sentry on the hill ahead.

“Get out of sight,” Gillian whispered quickly to the others.  “I bet these are some of the folks we’re after, but I’m going to make double sure.  Stay here out of sight while I check things out.  I’ll be quiet as a mouse and quick as a rabbit,” she assured her companions.

As the rest of the party tried to obscure themselves from view, Gillian silently made her way closer to the group of people nearby.  She slinked along the downhill edge of the hill, being careful to keep it between her and her quarry.

She moved up to within 40 feet of the group and took a better look at them. In addition to the sentry that Grundar spotted, there were three other men dressed in similar robes and breastplates.  Seated near one of them was an incredibly ugly woman: she had wild, unkempt white hair, blocky facial features, and a stocky torso and limbs. Her skin was a dull gray color and she wore a chain shirt.  None of these people seemed to hear or see Gil.

Unfortunately, something else did.  From behind a large rock about 60 feet away from her on the downhill side of a slope, a monstrosity appeared.  The creature was tall and skeletally thin with white vestigial wings. Its entire body was wreathed in blue flame, and it clutched a sword of flaming bone in its taloned fists.

"Osterel!" it growled, "I heard something approaching!"  The ugly woman leapt to her feet and looked around uneasily.  The flaming monstrosity looked past Gil (who managed to conceal herself in a bush before it laid eyes on her) and focused on the rest of the group attempting to hide further ahead. "There!" the creature shouted, pointing at the adventurers.

“A chaond and a demon!” cried Terenon, cloaking himself with a greater invisibility spell.  “Spread out!”   The mage sent five magic missiles streaking at the woman's location: they slammed into her, eliciting a shout of pain. Her eyes widened and she yelled, in a croaking voice, "They've got wizards! Remember to spare them!" She then mumbled an arcane phrase and disappeared from sight.

“We need to get up there quickly!” shouted Grundar, pointing to the hill where the red-robed men were beginning to nock arrows in their longbows.  Drawing his rapier, Grundar began to hustle up the hill.  “I’ll draw their fire!”

The demon began striding purposefully toward Rhys, leering menacingly at him as it brandished its flaming sword.  Seeing his adversary coming nearer, the priest called out, “By the power of Torm, feel the burning light from the Everburning Chalice of Y'Garn!"  With that, a blast of searing green-white light shot out from his outstretched hands and caught the demon in the chest.  The demon hissed in pain, then let out a shriek of surprise as Gillian's holy spiked chain passed through the flames on its body and left a deep gouge in its back. It wheeled around and focused its attention on her.

The archers finished readying their bows and prepared to fire on Grundar, but before they had a chance, Allanon blasted them with chain lightning. The sentry's chest exploded from the immense power of the magical energies, and another archer was fried to death.  The two remaining archers were badly hurt, but they still fired on the elf charging up the hill.  Grundar gracefully dodged the arrows and continued up.

The demon slashed his flaming sword at Gillian, but the halfling knocked one blow aside with her chain and expertly dodged the next one.  She then whipped her chain across the demon's chest, leaving a vicious wound behind; its blood boiled as it passed through the flames and it shrieked in rage.  “Welcome to your own personal hell, demon,” she snarled savagely.  Terenon sent a small ball flying at the demon that quickly blossomed into a sonic explosion.  It tore at the demon's flesh, but the creature managed to avoid the brunt of the blast.

Grundar smiled as he saw the demon was being handily dealt with, and he turned his attention back to the archers.  Suddenly, from further up the hill, a large glowing red ball streaked toward the elf, detonating into a large, fiery blast.  Performing an instinctively amazing somersault, Grundar deftly avoided the blast of fire, landing back on the burnt ground with ease.  Unfortunately, Allanon had been caught in the blast too and was burnt and hurt from the attack.   Angered by the fireball, Allanon responded in kind and lobbed one of his own at the archers. One was almost completely incinerated in the blast; the other fell to the ground, badly burnt and dying.

Grundar ran further up the hill and looked around for the invisible spellcaster, his keen senses allowing him to notice her further away.  “She somewhere near there!” he shouted, pointing.  “Allanon!  Don't worry about dropping a fireball on me!  I can handle it!"

Down below, Gillian was a whirling frenzy of destruction, dodging and parrying the demon’s attacks.  She lashed out twice with her blessed spike chain.  The first attack struck sparks off the chain shirt the demon wore, but the second scored another vicious strike on its impure flesh. The demon wobbled unsteadily on its feet, blood pouring from numerous puncture wounds, before plunging face first into the dirt. The fires on its body extinguished themselves, sending thick smoke into the air, and the demon’s body crumbled to ash.

Grundar noticed some movement from up ahead as the spellcaster attempted to flee, and he called once more for Allanon to launch a fireball.  The mage complied, and another brilliant burst of fire lit up the hill.  The chaond became visible as she tumbled down the hill, her clothing still smoking and smoldering, and came to a stop on the dirt road.
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Terenon raced toward the fallen woman, hoping that she still lived.  In the background, he could hear Grundar congratulating the others on dealing so handily with the brigands, and he could see Allanon dusting soot off of his scorched robes, but his attention was focused on the chaond that lay before him.  Upon reaching her, the mage was relieved to see that her chest still rose and fell, albeit sporadically.

"She still lives,” he called out.  “I need a healer.  She is invaluable to our cause."  The mage dismissed his invisibility and quickly started another spell.  The air around the hag shimmered as the spell went to work.  Though she was disabled, he had cast his most powerful charm spell to be sure it would work.

Rhys hustled over to the woman and cast a minor healing spell on her.  The woman groaned and blinked her eyes open.  It was then that Terenon noticed that her eyes slowly swirled and changed colors seemingly at random.  She looked around, groggily, her gaze falling on Terenon. A smile came to her lips.

"Terenon, my friend," she croaked in a strained voice, "it's so good to see you.  Though I'm afraid I'm not quite the healthy specimen I used to be.  What happened, by the way?  I must have blacked out."

Terenon smiled at the ugly woman and kneeled beside her.  He put his hand on hers, momentarily repulsed by its slimy consistency, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not the only one to have blacked out.  There are holes in my memory.  I do remember that you're my dearest friend, but I cannot remember your name.  The last thing I remember is attacking a caravan for some reason.  I don't remember why though, just that the mages were to be captured instead of killed." 

The mage gave a caring look to the woman.  "Perhaps together we can fill in the blanks. What do you remember?"

The woman blinked up at Terenon, thinking for a bit before responding.

"My name is Osterel,” she began.  “I'm really not supposed to talk about all of this, though, but since you are my closest friend, I guess it won't hurt to confide in you.  I'm a member of a secret society called the Hidden Flame.  We serve a powerful chaos lord who is imprisoned somewhere beneath the old wizards' keep in Selskar Vale, a few miles north of here.  The leaders of the flame are working to free the chaos lord.

"In order to accomplish this goal, however, some kind of rite must be performed that requires the presence of several wizards.  I was stationed here with some other soldiers and a palrethee demon to waylay travelers along the Surbrin Way and try to capture anybody with magical talent. Though by the looks of things, it seems my patrol has been wiped out, save for me.

"The chaos lord has promised great rewards for our aid in freeing him. There is a fabled horde somewhere within his prison that he will allow us to take if we can free him."

Terenon looks at Osterel and smiles.  _This is going to be almost too easy,_ he thought.  "Yes, that helps.  I am starting to remember a little.  The leaders of the flame sent me. They said the ritual was ready to begin and wanted me to retrieve you.  It's lucky for you that I came along when I did.  I was able to drive the attackers off and save you.  I am so pleased you're still with us."

The mage paused for a moment, pretending to be thinking hard.  "My memory still has holes.  For the life of me, I can't remember how to get back to old wizards' keep. Do you still possess the knowledge?"

"Indeed, I do know the way," replied Osterel.  "If you will allow me to go by the camp we have set up close to here to retrieve my spellbooks, I can take you to the ruins.  We will stop by the old barracks house on the way so that I can make my report to Flame Lord Moskogg, first.  He'll instruct us as to how we should proceed."

The mage thought fast upon hearing the news of another threat close by.  "Flame Lord Moskogg! That bastard betrayer!  He hired the assassins that attacked you.  I only know of his treachery because I was able to torture the information out of one of the ones who attacked you."  The mage spat on the ground with contempt.

"Some one must have bribed him, turned him against us, Terenon continued.  “He must be destroyed before all of our secrets are revealed and our work destroyed."  The mage turned and began to pace in what seemed like anger.  "We will go to your camp site and retrieve what we need.  Then we will get you healed and kill that pile of turncoat dung."

"Flame Lord Moskogg betrayed me?” asked Osterel incredulously.  “It doesn't seem like him to take a bribe, though...perhaps he thinks he'll be able to gain more power within the Hidden Flame by replacing me with one of his patsies," she growled in anger.  "Probably that stuck-up bitch Varra.  I'll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.  If we’re all done here, let’s get moving before more of those assassins show up.”

Terenon flashed a mildly amused smile at the rest of the group.  "You heard the lady; let's go."


----------



## Terenon

*Game point*

At this point in the game I knew it was a good one. Osterel had spoken Terenon's name, and no one in the game was sure whether it was planned or a mistake. Well I took it and ran with it, and a whole new world of plots and subplots formed. It is so hard to find a PBEM that has complex plot points, and soon all the players became addicted to the game. We couldn't wait to see what was next.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Heh, yeah, the funny part is that it actually _was_ a mistake.  It wasn't until Terenon picked up on it that I realized that there was no way that Osterel would have known his name unless Thornridge had been in on the plot.  I had originally intended for the adventure to be a straight-forward, dungeon-crawling, killing the monsters and taking their stuff kind of thing, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.  After all, I figured that if I was able to take a slip of the tongue and make it seem like I had planned out a whole conspiracy beforehand, I would look like a genius.   

Some of the best story elements come from players wondering aloud as to the possibilities, and they usually come up with things that I would have never thought of.  I highly recommend stealing story ideas from your players.  They'll thank you later when they feel like they discovered the answers for themselves, when really they merely provided you with a creative spark.

So, thanks, Terenon.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 4 will be up later tonight.  For all you impatient types out there (like myself), here's a little preview:

Terenon has a lightbulb appear over his head as he realizes the group has been set up.  Much confusion ensues because lightbulbs have not been invented yet.

The party, through reconnaissance and good planning, creates and executes an attack plan on the barracks house that actually works!


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## ltclnlbrain

Whew, a long one tonight...hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4

Osterel led the adventurers a short way up the road before turning off onto a barely visible footpath that led downhill.  Carefully picking their way down the slope towards the bottom of the valley, they saw a small camp nestled in a hollow on the hillside.  A crude lean-to covered a sleeping platform made of rough planks that was large enough to accommodate three or four bedrolls. Butchered game hung from a wooden rack between two trees, and a carefully banked campfire smoldered at one end of the shelter.

Osterel ducked into the lean-to and rustled around near one of the bedrolls.  She retrieved a leather satchel that with her spellbooks, then rolled up her bedroll before hoisting it over her shoulders.

Gillian looked up to Rhys as the chaond rooted around the campsite.  “How do we know that we can trust her?” she asked gruffly.  “She definitely has an evil aura about her, no matter how friendly she might seem to be now.  Never before have I worked alongside a vile creature such as her.”

Rhys smiled down at the halfling woman.  “Have faith, madame halfling, faith in our headstrong friend over there,” he said, gesturing toward Terenon.  He has assured us that she will be kept under control, and though evil she may be, we will work much good with her.”

As the adventurers waited for their new “friend” to get her things together, Grundar pulled Terenon aside.  "Can you find out what kind of resistance we can expect to face in Moskogg's camp?” he asked.  “Also, we should try to get directions to the ruins ahead of time, in case anything happens to our 'friend' here.  This time, we should have the element of surprise on our side.  We should strike hard and fast."

The mage nodded to Grundar and moved to help Osterel with her equipment.  "Moskogg's camp will be fortified,” he said.  “We should discuss his defenses before making an assault on it. Do you know what resistance we will encounter?”

"There will probably be a dozen soldiers spread throughout the barracks area," said Osterel in response to Terenon's questions.  "They've built two new buildings from some of the rubble there; one a kitchen and dining area, the other a holding cell for the rank-and-file prisoners and slaves.  In addition to the soldiers, we'll probably have to deal with Slaver and Varra.  Slaver's a big worg that Moskogg keeps as a pet, and Varra is Moskogg's lieutenant.  She's a cleric of the Stormlord, Talos, who specializes in fire.

"Those are the only combatants I can think of.  The barracks are about ten miles north of here.  If we're all ready, we can head there now, though it will probably be past sunset by the time we get there."

"You are not healthy enough to take them on yet,” replied Terenon.  “Besides, there are some other matters of import to take care of.  If for some reason we should become separated, we need to know how to get to the ruins.  A map would alleviate that problem, if you could supply us with one.”

Nodding, Osterel reached into her satchel and retrieved a pen and some parchment and began sketching a map of the area.  The road the adventurers were on currently headed north for 10 miles before opening up into a small vale.  A little ways therein, a path led off from it heading east.  Further north, past a bridge over a stream, another road led east for a ways before passing by the barracks house.  The road then continued out of the forest for a mile before finally ending at the Dungeon of the Ruins.

"The first eastward road in the Selskar Vale leads somewhere I have never been," said Osterel.  "Flame Lord Moskogg always instructed us to stay away from the place, but I don't know why."  She then indicated the Dungeon of the Ruins at the end of the trail.  "That's where the Prison of the Firebringer is.  I've never been inside, so I can't really tell you much about it."

Terenon accepted the map and handed it to Grundar with a wink.  The elf smiled and put it within a fold in his robes.  Moving over to join them, Allanon gave them a questioning look.  “What’s the plan of action, chiefs?  We should probably devise some tactics before we reach the barracks house.”

“Well, if we can arrive by night time, we should be able to cover our approach to the barracks,” said Grundar.  “I suggest that we take out Varra first, then I can draw the soldiers to me while you all rain fireballs on them."

Terenon nodded at Grundar.  "Yes taking care of Varra and the worg would be the first order of business.  We would need to do it quietly.  A silence spell, followed by a barrage of hold spells and charm spells from all sides, at once.  One is certain to succeed.  I have many a trick left up my..." 

The mage’s jaw dropped open, and he seemed stunned for a moment before resuming.  He shook his head.  "That son of a bitch.  I can't believe I didn't see it before."  He moved off away from Osterel, bringing Grundar and Allanon with him. He whispered in low tones so the chaond could not hear him.

"They knew we were coming.  She knew my name, before anyone mentioned it.  We were set up."

Allanon nodded with dawning comprehension as all the loose ends began to fall into place.  He hadn't trusted the merchant since he first laid eyes on them, and it seemed he was correct not to do so.

“Bandits indeed.  We have to take care of this Firebringer first, before the cult releases him and he regains his strength. Then we can go back and have a little ‘chat’ with Thornridge.  As for our battle plan, it sounds good.  The only thing you're forgetting is the Flame Lord himself.  What powers does he have?  You'd better ask Osterel so we can be prepared."

"Flame Lord Moskogg is a half-breed, the offspring of a demon and a minotaur,” Osterel replied to Terenon’s question.  He is a powerful cleric of the fire god Kossuth who oversees all of the Hidden Flame's operations in the Selskar Vale.  It was he who tasked me with raiding caravans in order to capture wizards.  Now it seems it is he who has betrayed me.  We shall rain death upon him."

Terenon called the group together.  Ten miles separated them from another battle, and he needed to establish what he could contribute to the fight.  "I have a great deal of spells left,” he said.  ”I can change most of my worst damaging spells from fire to sonic, which should penetrate the half-breed demon's natural resistance.  I could isolate Varra and the worg with hold spells or a well place dome of force.  In any event, we should prepare with protective spells just outside their camp.  I can cast Arcane Eye to investigate the camp unmolested, just before we attack.  I would be able to pinpoint exactly where everyone is so that we can set about our attack with accuracy.  I will have Fly cast on myself and be able to take advantage of things from the air.  The front line fighters should be bolstered with fire protection spells and be hasted.  Try to keep from burning the barracks if possible.  I am sure valuable papers or books could be kept there by the fire lord." 

For the benefit of Osterel, he added, "The papers should help us in establishing the bastard's treachery.  Let’s try not to kill any of the slaves.  They still have value as property.  Kill only Flame Lord Moskogg and those who serve him."

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Gill.  “I will engage the minotaur and combat and see that he too is brought down swiftly and efficiently.”  The other adventurers agreed with the plan, and set off toward the vale.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The old stone road had led the party more than 15 miles from the Surbrin Way, winding along the steep foothills of the Frost Hills.  To the west lay the impenetrable green Lurkwood, the sun just barely visible past the thick trees; to the east the Frost Hills--the southernmost sentinels of the Spine of the World--reared their snowy heads.

The road crested a pine-covered ridge, and before them spread a broad, forested vale.  Filling the northern part of the valley was a cold blue tarn fed by a swift, rushing stream that spilled down from the snowy slopes.  Dominating the center of the vale was a bare, steep hill crowned by a ruined fortress, and among the woods at its base laid a number of small, ruined buildings.  Apparently a town of some size stood here long ago, but now the place seemed abandoned. The road descended into the forested valley.

The waning sunlight of early evening fell upon a disturbing sight.  In a small clearing of recently cut timber alongside the road laid the charred remnants of what must have been a great bonfire.  The whole place reeked of smoke and a more nauseating smell--burned flesh.  A single black tree trunk rose from the center of the cold ash, with a blackened, skeletal figure still chained to it.  Someone had been burned at the stake here, probably within the last couple of days.  The skeleton faced down toward the valley below, clearly visible over the trees to the north.

Rhys’ eyes widened at the horrid sight.  “What happened here?” he asked Osterel.  “What did this poor soul do to deserve such a fate?”

Osterel regarded the burnt corpse with cool detachment.  "This is the body of a woman who escaped from the barracks house a few days ago.  She was caught by a patrol of Acolytes, and they brought her here and started building a bonfire.  Flame Lord Moskogg marched the other slaves here and burned her at the stake as a lesson to them.  He made us watch as well, in case we got any ideas about betraying the cult."

“I vow by Yondalla’s strength that the foul minotaur will not live through this day,” Gillian said, eyes burning with determination.

Osterel merely shrugged.  “The road just up ahead leads to the ruined building Moskogg forbade us from going near.  A little ways past that, the road will take us to the barracks house.  We are about half a mile away."

"I wonder why Moskogg doesn't want people near that building,” mused Grundar.  “He could be hiding something.  I think we should at least have a brief look before heading to the barracks."

Terenon nodded to Grundar.  "He's definitely hiding something, but let’s take care of him first; then we can investigate to our hearts’ content.  Lead on Osterel,” he said to the chaond.  “Bring us in close, but hidden.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day passed completely to night as Osterel led the party over the stream and east through the woods.  The stone road began to ascend toward a saddle between the barren knoll on which the old keep stood and the forested mountainside across from it.  On the east side of the road stood the ruins of an old outwork or barracks house, the upper floors of which had long since collapsed.  Close to this old stone fortification stood two newer structures, their crudely assembled walls made of stone from the ruins.  .

The group stopped far enough away from the buildings to remain unseen.  Terenon called for halt and cast a spell that created a floating invisible sensor that he could see through.  The sensor flew through the camp and provided Terenon with visual data.

The cooktent was the closest building.  Walls made of neatly stacked rubble and fieldstone formed three sides of the open-air kitchen and refectory.  Kegs of ale, sacks of flour, and long racks for hanging game sat under rough lean-tos built against the walls, and several trestle tables were arranged in the sheltered area.  A few bedraggled humans scurried about preparing food, while a female ogre draped in ill-fitting chainmail stomped about, bellowing at and cuffing those who moved too slowly.  A pair of raiders in flame-blazoned hauberks sat at one of the trestle tables, drinking ale and gnawing on smoked meat.

More crude fieldstone walls enclosed the second building, a prison area.  It was segregated into open-air cells by thick timber posts.  More than a dozen wretched captives--humans, half-orcs, and dwarves--shivered inside these cages.  Several wore tattered surcoats bearing the insignia of various merchant costers, while others seemed to be common woodcutters or hunters.

Beneath a ramshackle tent next to the cages, two humans wearing brown cloaks over breastplates with the twin flame insgina stood guard over the captives.  An immense, vicious-looking wolf lied curled up nearby.

Most of the barracks house itself had collapsed, leaving 20-foot tall empty walls open to the sky. Much of the rubble from the upper floors had apparently been cleared out.  The magical sensor flew over the roof and saw that the remnants of interior walls divided the structure into several partial rooms.  In and around the ruins laid more than a dozen pallets in groups of four and five, each surrounding a carefully tended campfire.  Five soldiers were awake and on guard, while three others and a woman with stark red hair were asleep.

The sensor passed into a large room to the east.  The room had been cleared of all debris and appointed with tapestries of red, orange, and gold.  An altar-block of gleaming obsidian stood near the eastern end of the room.  Slitlike windows pierced the southern wall, letting in slanting rays of moonlight.  A writing desk stood next to one of the windows.

A slender human woman wearing a noble's garb of gray and pearl arranged papers on the desk. Beside the altar stood a hulking minotaur with rust-red fur and eyes like balls of flame: Flame Lord Moskogg.  Sinister runes scored his horns, and he wore a breastplate emblazoned with the symbol of a twining red flame.  He carried a massive greataxe easily in one hand.

Terenon relayed what he had seen to the others.  He looked to both Osterel and Allanon.  "Both of you take up a position in the air.  Allanon, if she needs a spell of fly from you ,please supply it. Both of you should start with Varra.  She seems to be asleep around the campfire I mentioned.  I can teleport Gillian, Grundar, Rhys and myself into the Flame Lord’s barracks and take him and the bitch there by surprise.  I will teleport as soon as you two are in position."

Allanon turned to Osterel to set down their attack plan.  "Okay, after we fly above the barracks, we should hover a few hundred feet up, but where we can see Varra.  Then wait for my signal and when I give it, use your most powerful attack spell, a fireball or some such, directed at Varra.  I will cast mine at the same instant, and unless she is very lucky, we will have taken one of their only two spellcasters out of the fight.  After that, just fire at will.”

The spellcasters in the party began layering themselves in protective magic, ending with Osterel and Allanon turning invisible.  "Let's go," Allanon said, and he and Osterel pushed off into the night.

Once they were out of sight, Terenon cast another spell, changing his body into an exact duplicate of Osterel’s.  “If either Moskogg or the woman with him should escape, they will believe that it was her who turned on them,” he explained to the others.  “Now, let us join hands and take the fight to these brigands.”

“Today is a good day for glorious battle,” said Rhys.  “May Torm watch over us.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Allanon and Osterel glided through the air until they reached their positions above the barracks house.  The wild mage cast a spell, and suddenly his viewpoint shifted to inside the building around the campfire, as if he were standing there himself.  He pinpointed Varra’s location and smiled to himself.

“Osterel, prepare to attack," he said.  He began to slowly chant under his breath, muttering a stormy incantation that seethed with the anger of a lightning bolt.  Slowly, he used his mastery of energy to shift the incantation until it was as cold as the night air they were hovering in. 

A bolt of snow and ice formed in front of him, then raced towards the ground far below.  It impacted the prone Varra and a small storm of ice and freezing air spun around her. With a mind of its own, the storm jumped from her to the nearest soldier, eventually engulfing them all in its icy grip.  Numerous cries of surprise and pain filled the air.

"Aw, they look rather cold.  Perhaps I can warm them up a bit," said Osterel.  She flashed Allanon a wicked grin before calling forth a small bead of fire at her fingertips.  She hurled it straight down at Varra and watched it engulf her and the other soldiers, cackling evilly.

Between the cold bolts and the fireball, the soldiers never had any chance.  The soldiers' screams were cut off as they did; Varra didn't even wake up, passing peacefully in her sleep as her body was ravaged by magical energies.  The other soldiers in the barracks looked into the air in surprise as they scrambled to draw their bows.

Allanon felt the drain of the magic pull at him, but ignored it as they were not quite finished yet. He turned to Osterel, yelling, "Focus your attacks now on the soldiers near the barracks.  I'm going to take out Moskogg's pet and his two slavers."

He grabbed some guano and sulfur out of his pouch and crushed them together in his palm while chanting the spidery words of magic.  He altered this spell as well, building it up to its maximum potential.  Instead of a bead of flame appearing on his finger, though, a tiny, wriggling fire ant appeared.  Shrugging, he tossed the ant at his enemies and watched as a huge swarm of flaming ants exploded onto them.  One of the soldiers died instantly; the other soldier and the worg were burnt and covered with ants.  They screamed and howled in pain as they scratched at the numerous bites on their body before fleeing off into the woods.

The four remaining soldiers in the barracks fired at the flying Allanon, but their panicked shots went wide of their target.  Osterel fired another fireball in response, knocking them all down with the force and energy of the blast.  They didn't get back up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Allanon and Osterel dealt with the foes outside, the rest of the group teleported directly into Moskogg's chambers.  He snorted in surprise, smoke that smelled like fire and brimstone blasting out of his nostrils. The woman stumbled backward and fell out of her chair in shock.

Focusing his mind, Grundar charged right at the half-demon, performing a somersault to close in the distance between them and tumbling past the creature's reach.  Getting up, he quickly stabbed the demon in the gut, piercing its thick hide and penetrating all the way to its stomach.  The beast bellowed in pain as his entrails began to spill on the floor.  Gillian rushed forward beside him and struck the monstrosity with her spiked chain, further opening the gash.  Terenon summoned a glowing sword of force that ripped open a large hole in the minotaur’s back, and before he could even react, Grundar and Gill let loose a flurry of blows on his ravaged body.  With a final bleat of protest, Moskogg collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood and viscera.

Meanwhile, Rhys had moved up to the woman and attacked her with his staff, but the weapon was deflected by the leather armor she wore beneath her robes.  Seeing her master get slaughtered within the space of a few seconds, the woman decided that discretion was the better part of valor.  Without a word or a gesture, the woman disappeared from view.  Rhys swung at the empty air where she used to stand but did not find any purchase.  Terenon merely looked at the dead minotaur in amazement.  Less than twelve seconds had passed, and the battle had already been won.


----------



## Allanon Harpell

And with this, our journey had begun.  In the OOC boards we were passing around virtual pats on the back and congratulations, but as you'll see soon enough, not every battle went as smoothly as this one.  Stay tuned.

P.S. The fire ant-ball was triggered by a random wild surge, one of the consequences of being a wild mage   .  This one worked out pretty well, but the next few take a turn for the worse.


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## Pelwrath

*Secratary*

Secrataries always know what's going on.  I'd hoped to subdue her and get those papers.  Her disappearance was  amost definate surprise and, at least to me, support to my therory that she was more than she appeared. :\


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## Terenon

*Great fight*

I do believe that was the only battle we had where no one suffered even a scratch.   I for one became a little too cocky and had my ass handed to me not soon after. The battles became progressively harder and harder, but we had already established that we could work well together as a team.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Well, now that I've spoiled all of you with updates every day, I'm afraid new chapters will be coming a bit more slowly the rest of this week.  It's final exam time, and unfortunately studying takes precedence over updating the story hour.  Here's a little preview of Chapter 5 to heighten your anticipation:

The adventurers explore the forbidden building, a new member joins the party, and an old member kicks the bucket.  Who will it be?  Who. I ask?  Stay tuned to find out!


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 5

“Anyone want a trophy for their wall at home?” Gillian asked, nudging the minotaur’s head with her foot.

Rhys smiled at the little halfling.  “Torm must have been watching over.  This battle was swift and bloodless.”

Indeed, the battle at the barracks house had gone exceptionally well, and the adventurers had been able to take out or drive off all of the combatants without suffering a scratch.  Now they were able to claim their reward: two large chests sat against the far wall.

Grundar finished cleaning the blood off of his rapier and sheathed it at his belt.  “We need to find that woman who escaped or she'll report what happened here,” he told the others.  “If she gets to the ruins before us, it won't be as easy as it was here."

Spotting a key hanging on a chain around Moskogg's neck, the elf took it off and looked at it curiously.  He then headed over to the two wooden chests to them for traps.  Finding some glyphs of warding, he set to work disarming them.

“I had expected one of them might flee,” said Terenon, “though I was pretty sure it would have been Moskogg.”  The mage dismissed his transmutation spell, and his body returned from Osterel’s back into his normal form.  “When the woman reaches the others to report of the attack, she will tell them of Osterel's treachery.  That ought to convince her of my story when her former allies start to attack her.  Gather up the paper work on the desk; I don’t want to waste my fly spell.  I will scout out a place to camp away from here so we can rest up and regain spells.”  Saying this, Terenon exited the room and set off into the air. 

Outside, Osterel had landed next to Varra's blackened corpse and was kicking at it, laughing evilly.  "For a Flame Priest, it seems that you couldn't handle the heat!" 

Rhys moved up to the chaond, slightly disturbed by her actions.  "Osterel, do you know who the lady with the minotaur was?  She disappeared during the battle.”

Osterel stopped harassing the corpse and looked up at the priest, thinking.  "The woman would probably have been Degradzel, Moskogg's secretary.  But...she disappeared, you say? I didn't think she had any magical powers.  Perhaps Moskogg gave her something that let her do that?  I didn't think she would pose any sort of threat to us.”

Rhys shrugged.  “Well, she didn’t exactly do anything threatening.  Still, we should not underestimate her the next time we meet.”
--
Allanon started flying slowly towards the barracks when he remembered the ogress in the kitchen.   He had completely forgotten about her during the battle, and he only hoped that she had not gone too far away yet.  Shrouding himself with invisibility again, the mage flew to a spot where he could see inside the kitchen tent.

The ogress was on her knees behind one of the walls, digging at the ground.  She held the chains of two captives in one massive hand while she dug with the other.  Finally she stopped digging and pulled out a large clay pot from the earth.  The pot jingled with the sound of coins.  She did not notice the invisible Allanon hovering over her.

"Thulma knows when to cut her losses," the ogress said to her captives.  "Let Moskogg burn for all I care, as long as I get away, right?  He never appreciated my cooking anyway!"

Allanon thought through possible strategies to free the captives.  He cared nothing about the ogress and doubted that she would flee to warn the cultists, but he could not abide slavery.  Most of his attack spells affected a large area, so he'd have to play this one cool.

Hovering about fifty feet over the ogress, he chanted the words to a minor cantrip.  Suddenly, a huge voice boomed through the night air directly in front of the ogress and her captives, sounding as if ten humans were shouting.

"Ogress, I care nothing for you or your treasure,” the ghost sound said.  “Flee if you'd like.  However, free your captives or you will meet the same fate as those in the barracks."

The ogress nearly fell over from fear at the sudden voice over her.  She nervously looks up and saw nobody there.  Her fingers drew a ward against the evil eye across her chest before dropping the chains of the captives.  "I'm leaving!  I don't want to hurt nobody!  You'll never see me again!" she exclaimed.  Scrambling to her feet, holding the pot close to her chest, the ogress fled into the woods.

Allanon nodded in satisfaction, then he floated down to the captives, dismissing his mirror images, his fire shield, and last, his invisibility.  He settled to the ground between the two frightened captives and held up his hands in a placating gesture.  He muttered two quick spells and the two chains slid off of the slaves.  Allanon grinned.

"You two are lucky that I happened by when I did, or you'd be working under the whip for that ogre for the rest of your lives. The name is Allanon Harpell."

He extended his hand, then smiled again when neither of the captives tok it.  "I have some friends in the main barracks who destroyed the Flame Lord.  They'll be waiting for my report.  Come with me if you'd like, we'll be freeing the other prisoners as well."

With that, he starts walking towards the barracks.  Glancing about nervously, the former prisoners followed behind him.
--
Terenon returned a few minutes late and called for Osterel.  “I’ve found a clearing a few hundred yards from here that looks like a suitable place to rest,” he told her.  “Go there and start setting up a camp; we will be with you shortly.”  Osterel nodded and set off in the direction Terenon had told her.

Grundar, Rhys, and Gillian emerged from the barracks house, their magical bags full of coins and paperwork.  Allanon arrived shortly thereafter with two bedraggled prisoners in tow.  “We should go free the other slaves now,” he said.  The others agreed, and they headed over to the prison.

Most of the slaves were humans, dwarves, and half-orcs who were either merchants or caravan guards before they were taken.  There were also a half-elf woodcutter and a halfling adventurer who wandered to close to the camp and were captured as well.  Grundar took the key to the holding pen from the fallen guard nearby and unlocked the cage.

"You are now free,” Terenon told them.  “Take what weapons you need and we will supply you with enough silver to get you back on your feet.  I just need some information from you.  One of you should be a mage captured from a caravan bound toward Silverymoon.  We have been sent to rescue you specifically.  Come forward so we make talk privately."

An aasimar woman stepped out of the throng of prisoners.  Despite the layers of dirt and grime that covered her, Terenon still thought she looked rather attractive.  She had thick silver hair and golden eyes, and her white robes were tattered and stained.  Her face was set with grim determination, but her eyes were watery and seemed on the verge of tears.

"You are looking for me, I assume,” the woman said.  “My name is Serrila Destare.  My fellow adventurers and I were escorting a Three Shields caravan along the Surbrin Way when the bandits attacked us.  Tell me: do you have news of my friends?  Of Nelissa, and Bolgodd, and Jerrol?  I have not seen them since I was taken."  She looked at Terenon with pleading eyes.

The mage looked away from her eyes for a moment.  He knew losing a fellow companion was hard, but he could not imagine what it would be like to lose three of them all at once.  Terenon eyes locked back onto hers and he stepped forward, laying a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.  He sighed as he prepared to break the news to her.

"No one survived except you,” he said solemnly.  “I'm sorry.” 

"Dead?" Serrila asked mournfully, blinking back tears.  "All of them?"  She tried hard to compose herself, but her voice still trembled.  The tough facade she had been putting on for the past few days crumbled completely, and she was left utterly drained.  The tears came freely now, leaving wet trails in the grime on her face.  She seemed to melt at Terenon's touch and collapsed into his arms.

"It was supposed to be an easy job: just make sure that nothing bad happened to a few wagons.  Then my whole world exploded in fire and death.  My friends are dead, yet I live because of my study of magic.”

Terenon hugged the beautiful woman, trying to impart some of his own strength to her.  “Your study of magic?  Is that why they captured you?

Serrila nodded, sniffling.  "The Acolytes of the Hidden Flame--that's what they're called.  They're trying to free some being called the Firebringer from his prison.  They need wizards for the ritual, though, but they have to be of different outlooks.  One lawful, one neutral, one chaotic.  I was the first wizard they had captured so far.  They had hoped I would be lawful so that their ritual would be completed.  When they found out I wasn't they...I'd rather not say what they did to me.”  The aasimar shuddered at the memory.

“If it's any consolation, we killed the brigands that ambushed you,” said Terenon.  “Our task is far from over, though.  We intend to see that all of the Acolytes are wiped out.  I will offer you a chance to in bringing them down."

Serrila shook her head sadly.  "I know I am not powerful enough to take them on.  Though I desire vengeance for my friends, getting myself killed will do not do any good."

"I understand, replied Terenon.  “It will be very dangerous, but I do have a task you might be interested in.  The man that hired you, Merik Thornridge.  I believe he sent the caravan into harm’s way on purpose.  He sent our group, I believe, upon learning that you would not be of use for the ritual.  I was the intended target for them when we came across the ruins of the caravan.  Our group has no way of keeping an eye on him while we take on the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame here.  The task I ask is for you to keep track of him, stay in the shadows, and report what you have learned to me.  Once the problem here is dealt with, I will locate you and we will take care of him.  The task is not without danger and I will understand if you do not accept."

"Very well.  I shall head to Silverymoon and keep an eye on Thornridge.  I'll wait for you to come back.  Please be careful."

Serrila turned to leave, but before she could, Terenon reached out and touched her slender arm.  "I don't want you to worry about money right now," he told her.  The mage pulled out his purse and counted out forty platinum pieces and handed them to her.  “Stay safe.  I will be in touch.”
--
When Terenon had finished speaking to Serrila, Grundar helped the others distribute the mundane arms and armor to the prisoners, as well as a large amount of silver for each of them, so that they would have a safe trip back to Silverymoon.  As the ragged group passed out of sight in the forest, the elf gave Terenon a nudge with his elbow.

“So, you were getting awfully friendly with Serrila there.  She’s cute and vulnerable: I can see what you like about her.” 

Terenon blushed deeply, but this only served to make Grundar’s grin bigger.  “You’re crazy.  I was merely sympathizing with her pain.  My mind wasn’t even on romance.”

“That’s not what it looked like from down here,” Gill piped up, laughing.  “I’d say you’ve got a little crush, Terenon.”

Terenon rolled his eyes.  “This is ridiculous.  I don’t—“

The conversation was interrupted by a cry of fury and a torrent of metallic noise coming from up the stone road.  Grundar’s hand went for his rapier, and Terenon prepared to fry whatever monstrosity was heading their way.  A few seconds later, a short figure suddenly appeared, rushing up along the main stone road, just now cresting the hill.  The huge hammer held high overhead and the incoherent battle cries the warrior randomly spewed made his intent seem obvious...at least, until the dwarf drew into the clearing and spotred the destruction already scattered about the battle site.  Confusion spreading across his face like a wave, the dwarf slowly lowered his weapon and coaxed his feet to stagger to a halt.

"Er...um…” The dwarf mumbled uncertainly for a few moments, scratching uneasily at his beard.  "Don't suppos'n you lot'd be the dangerous bastards who been lurking out here?  Maybe, you know," he continued gloomily, already well aware of the answer, "there was a violent battle and ye'd be the sole-surviving remnants who still need a stern thrashing?”

Terenon arched an eyebrow at the dwarf.   Obviously, he had a screw loose.  The mage relaxed a bit and responded, "Don't need a thrashing today.  It seems that you are late for the party here; we've mopped up these cronies without much of a sweat.  I do wonder, though, why you would attack a fortified position by ground, alone, and screaming to alert your position?" 

"Bah!" the dwarf said dismissively, shouldering his hammer on one shoulder.  "What other way would I go about it?  Sneakin' in like a dirty gobbo'?  Better to die gloriously in a moment than live quietly for a lifetime."

“If you say so,” said Grundar.  “Who sent you here?”

“Send me?" the dwarf said incredulously, spinning towards Grundar.  "Why in the name of the Abyss would someone be sendin' me?  I heard of the dirt-eaters and came out here me'self.  Damn shame your lot seems to have bashed 'em already."

With a snort of disgust the dwarf plopped down on the ground, loosed a stream of spittle on the ground, then began to fumble with a small bag of tobacco.  "No damn luck," he muttered as he filled his pipe.  "If'n it's not one adventuring group beating me to the punch 's 'nother.”

Allanon smiled as the surly dwarf finished his tirade.  "Well, if you're still interested in bashing some 'dirt-eaters', there is still a large nest of them down in the ruins.  We're going to finish the job tommorow and you're welcome to come with us."  Allanon grins and winked at the dwarf.  "You'll just have to be more quiet."

"Long as I'm out here anyway," the dwarf replied, standing up slowly, "I suppose I might as well.  Better'n walkin' back with nothing to show for it."  Stuffing his things back into their respective pouches, he headed towards the nearest dead body and, laying down his weapon first, slung it over his back with a grunt.  "Suppose somebody better deal with these.  Not quite what I expected to be doin' out here, mind you.  Name's Berek."  With the introductions over in his mind, Berek carried the body away, intent on finding somewhere to burn those dead not already roasted during the battle.

“Well, he seems like a nice enough guy,” said Gill.
--
The adventurers finally left the barracks house and met Osterel at the campsite.  They had a light dinner of roasted game before settling down for the night.  Before he went to sleep, though, Terenon pored over the paperwork that had been retrieved from Moskogg’s desk.

The papers were mostly an account of the bandit activities along the Surbrin Way, lists of the captives that had been taken and tabulations of the loot they had plundered.  One letter, written in Abyssal, was rather interesting, though:

_Flame Lord Moskogg,
Your efforts in the Selskar Vale are going well. We just need a lawful wizard for the ceremony to be completed; we have already secured the scrolls of dismissal and the staff of the ar-magus. The deal you worked out with Orichalxos seems to be holding up. Just as long as none of your Acolytes bothers him, I do not foresee any problems. Continue your efforts to capture the wizard and soon the Firebringer will be free and your patience rewarded.

High Conflagration Jendar Tholm_

Terenon relayed the information to Grundar, who nodded.  "This Orichalxos is probably in that building that Moskogg forbids his troops to enter.  I wonder how he fits into all this.  We should check out the building as soon as possible tomorrow.  Maybe we can do a little charm on him as well to get him on our side."  Grundar winked at Terenon.

Terenon acknowledged Grundar with a nod.  "Anything is possible."  He paused for a moment and added, "We will deal with that tomorrow, I suppose.  I am going to turn in now.  Make sure nothing averse happens, my friend.”

With that the mage curled up on the ground and let sleep take him over.


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## ltclnlbrain

OK, so I realize I didn't get to the building or the death yet.  I didn't want to make this chapter too long, though, and this seemed like a natural stopping-off point.  So I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer to see who bites the big one.  Chapter 6 will be up either tonight or tomorrow.

Oh, and if any of you readers out there are interested in leaving comments on my work so far, feel free.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 6

The night passed without incident.  Berek founds a relatively open area where he could dispose of the bodies without risking setting fire to the forest.  With that grisly work out of the way, he joined the others in rest.  Grundar arose from his reverie about four hours before the others; he watched the sun rise over the treetops while waiting for the others to awaken.

After a brisk breakfast, the adventurers retraced their steps about half a mile and took the road they bypassed the night before.  Within a bend of the stream ahead rose a low hill, crowned by the ruins of a domed building.  Most of the dome had collapsed, leaving a jagged roofline above thick octagonal walls.  The structure was made of polished white stone that was now covered with a thick patina of dirt and climbing ivy.  Ancient designs of moons and stars lined the upper portions of the outer walls, interspersed with narrow, slitlike windows.  A pair of massive green bronze doors marked the main entrance.

“I would assume the entry way is trapped,” said Terenon, “but I have no skill in finding such things.  I believe the key you took should work for the door." 

Grundar walked up to the bronze doors and began checking out the area for traps, being careful to take his time.  Once he was satisfied that there were no traps, he put in the key and tried to unlock the door.  Unfortunately, the key didn’t fit.  “Looks like it goes somewhere else,” he said, shrugging.  He pushed on the door a bit, but it didn’t budge.  “It’s stuck.”

The group studied the door for a bit, trying to figure out how to get in.  Getting fed up with waiting, Allanon stepped forward and waved for the others to get behind him.  Grabbing at the raw essence of magic in the Vale, he formed it into a spell and gestured at the door commanding it to open.

Nothing happened.

Well, not exactly nothing.  Allanon could feel his whole body getting smaller in size.  The whole world seemed to grow until he finally stabilized at a height no taller than Gill.  He looked around in surprise at the results of the surge, and the rest of the party burst out in laughter.  About a minute later, he grew back to his normal size.

Terenon looked at the wild mage with amusement. "I have the spell knock.  Obviously you are in a hurry."  The mage let the arcane syllables slip from his mouth, and the rusty doors squealed in protest as they swung open.

A magnificent dome once crowned the building, but it had collapsed long ago, leaving the interior open to the sky.  Heaps of rubble lay here and there.  In the center of the building, a large platform rose 10 feet above the floor, supported by thick columns.  Steep, narrow stairs led from the floor up to the platform, and slender balconies accessible via other flights of stairs ran along the north and south walls.  Some sort of pedestal or mount stood atop the platform, and a small bronze door was located beneath the platform

The adventurers passed through the door and looked around, but before they had time to see much, two arrows flew at them from on top of the platform!  One bounced off of Allanon's mage armor, but the other sunk deep into Terenon's shoulder.  Now that they had attacked, the group could see two gargoyles clad in studded leather armor and wielding shortbows at the lip of the platform, cloaked in shadows.  From beside the door, a third gargoyle charged at Osterel.  It rammed into her with its horns and gored a large hunk out of her side, causing her to scream in pain.  Its horns dripping Osterel's blood (which changed colors at random like her eyes), the gargoyles hissed menacingly.

Before anybody could react, the gargoyles on the platform sent a barrage of arrows sailing at the mages.  One arrow sunk deep into Allanon's chest, while the second was barely deflected by the mage armor.  Unfortunately, the two arrows aimed at Terenon hit their mark, causing the wizard to collapse to the ground, dying.  The third gargoyle tore at Osterel with its claws.  The first claw opens up a bloody streak across the chaond's chest.  She staggered to her knees, but not for long; the second claw tore across her throat, opening it up and causing her blood to spray all over the creature and the floor.  Osterel collapsed in a quickly growing pool of blood, lying quite still and lifeless.

“Rhys!  Terenon is down!” shouted Grundar.  The spry elf drew his rapier and tumbled around Osterel’s killer, opening a small puncture wound in its chest with his blade.

"Fat lot of good being quiet did us!" Berek shouted as he rushed towards the platform, boots clomping loudly on the floor.  "'Least if I had blown through the door we mighta had the element of surprise for a moment or two!"  He scarcely missed a beat as he reached the stairs, leaping upward on them two at a time.  Drawing near the gargoyles, his teeth snapped together with a loud clack, foam bubbled at his lips, and his shoulder lowered as he lines his body up for a bull rush.  Shouting like a madman, the dwarf charged into the one on the left, plummeting down with him the 20 feet to the ground, landing hard and throwing chunks of stone across the room.

As Rhys moved over to tend Terenon’s wounds with Torm’s holy energy, Gillian raced up the stairs as well.  Instead of leaping off the platform like the dwarf did, she took a few moments to get her bearings.  Heaps of rubble cluttered the platform's surface.  At its center stood the wreckage of a great device--a machine composed of lenses and gears aimed blindly toward the sky.  Three foul nests of uncured hides and gore-spattered clothing lay atop the platform as well.  Gill then lashed out at the last gargoyle with her spiked chain, scoring a hit.

The gargoyle on the ground lashed out at Grundar with its claws, teeth, and horns, but he was able dodge or parry each of the attacks.   Grundar responded with a flurry of quick strikes that created several more bleeding wounds on the creature’s body.

"I may have been too late to prevent ye from shooting your blasted pin-pricks," Berek howled at his foe as he rolled to his feet, gobs of spittle flying with every word, "but I'll be damned if you'll leave this place in one piece!"  The dwarf looked mad before—now he looked truly insane.  Blood dribbled down his chin from where he'd begun to gnaw on his lip in anticipation, while his fingers flexed and twitched randomly on his hammer hilt.  His foe scrambled to its feet and, flapping its stony wings took to the air.  Berek delivered a massive parting shot with his hammer, but the creature survived and flapped across the room.

The third gargoyle spread its wings and lifted off the platform; Gill took a parting swipe at it but the chain passed harmlessly beneath.  The creature flew backward and fired its bow at her, but she easily deflects the arrow out of the way.

As Allanon and Rhys concentrated on defenses against the gargoyles, Terenon regained consciousness and rose shakily to his feet.  He thought he had been dead, and that scared him.  Cursing the gargoyles’ ancestors, the mage counterattacked with a blast of chain lightning.  Unfortunately, the nimble creatures were able to completely evade the deadly magic.

The two gargoyles in the air flapedp about the room, firing their bows at Gill.  She deflected one of the arrows but was struck in the shoulder by the second.  Again the third gargoyle lashed out at Grundar, and again he avoided the attacks.

Seeing that the gargoyles were giving as well as they were taking, Rhys closed his eyes briefly before chanting, "Torm's might is known to all, for evil is his foe.  No matter the time or place or form it takes, no barrier can stop it.  Guide our arms and strengthen our hearts while the true words of the one true deity cause pain to our enemies’ ears and fill their minds with fear and dread."  The magic of the spell flowed through his allies and enemies.

Berek stepped up and engaged the landbound gargoyle in melee—though, strangely enough, he seemed to be splitting his time between swinging his weapon back and forth and freeing a hand to...well...punch himself in the side of the head.  Whatever the reason Berek had for doing it, it certainly didn’t slow him down.  He kept on swinging his maul until the gargoyle was a bloody pulp on the ground, then swung some more for good measure.

Deciding they could use some aerial support, Allanon began to cast a spell to summon a celestial griffon.  As he worked his magic, Terenon worked some of his own and telekinetically tore of the gargoyles’ bows out of its hands.

Seeing Allanon beginning to summon something, the gargoyle that still had its bow fired at Allanon, scoring a hit in his shoulder.  Luckily, the sorcerer was able to retain concentration on the spell.  The second gargoyle charged down at Rhys and lashed out with a claw, but he managed to knock it aside with his staff.

Grundar moved to flank the gargoyle in front of Rhys and scored a deep hit in its back, eliciting a cry of pain and a spray of blood.  Gill also lashed it several times with her spiked chain.  Overwhelmed by the vicious assault, the creature collapsed.  

Allanon utters the last syllables to his spell, and a large griffon with silver wings appeared and tore at the last remaining gargoyle, dragging it out of the air and causing both of them to plummet to the ground.  Allanon then drew upon the wild magic of the Realms and the gargoyle's form began to change, transforming into a small, cuddly bunny rabbit.  The griffon, glad to see a reasonably-sized snack, proceeded to tear the rabbit apart.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"That was so stupid of me,” muttered Terenon.  

Once the griffon had finished its meal, Allanon had moved over and patted its mane.  He had thanked it for its help before dismissing it.  Rhys had then tended to the mages’ wounds as Grundar collected the gargoyles’ valuables.

“I can't believe I didn't prepare better,” Terenon continued.  “The spells I save will be of no use when I'm dead."  He looked to Rhys and smiled wanly.  "You saved my life.  Thank you.  I owe you a debt I intend to repay." 

Rhys returned the smile.  “Terenon, I am grateful for your thanks, but it is nothing that any one of us would have done for another given the opportunity.  We're all in this together.  I'm sure at some point you'll return the favor.”

Berek snorted derisively and rolled his eyes.  “Enough o’ this mushy stuff, let’s get on with it.”  The dwarf paused for a long moment after speaking, clearly choosing his next words carefully.  "Not that I really care, but I don't suppose any of you would be plannin' on buryin' or coverin' or somethin' your friend over there?  I mean, she was yer friend, wasn't she?"  Berek turned pointedly towards Osterel’s body as he said this, rubbing uneasily at the back of his neck.

Terenon turned to Berek with an unsettling smile.  "She was more of a pet.  She was one of those who we are fighting.  I twisted her mind to serve us.  She deserves to rot where she dropped."

Gill and Rhys shared a concerned look, but said nothing.  The halfling then coughed a bit to change the subject.  “Hate to say it, but I have to agree with the dwarf’s first sentiment.  That fight was pretty loud, and if that Orichalxos or anybody else is around, they already know we’re coming.”

“Well then, madame,” said Grundar, gesturing toward the now-open door in the base of the platform, “ladies first.”

Beyond a door was a spiral staircase that descended about 20 feet, eventually opening into a small, subterranean chamber about 20 feet across.  A passage to the west led to a low, vaulted room filled with crates, sacks, and casks.  To the east, a larger passage led to a massive set of bronze double doors.  Along the north wall was a small, rusty door made of iron plate.

After a cursory search of the supplies that turned up nothing interesting, the party opened the large double doors.  The doors opened into a large but cluttered room, perhaps 50 feet long and 40 feet wide.  In the center of the chamber stood a great machine made of tarnished brass and rusted iron.  It consisted of several globes suspended from long arms that revolved slowly around the center of the device.  Along the walls were crude workbenches and shelves piled high with musty old tomes and parchments covered with arcane scrawlings.  The air smelled of some strange incense.

Grundar didn’t like the look of this.  There had to be something more here.  Concentrating hard, he spotted it; a disturbance in the air behind the machine.  A large creature was lurking invisible here, waiting for an excuse to attack.  Grundar leaned over to his comrades and whispered, “Somebody’s here.”

“We should try to communicate first,” replied Terenon.  Then, stepping forward, he called out, “We mean you no harm.  We are not here to fight you.  We only wish to talk.”

The creature dismissed its invisibility spell, making it visible to all in the room.  And what a sight it was.

It floated before them, a bulbous body with a huge, empty eye socket in the center of its face and a large maw filled with daggerlike teeth.  Small eyes, attached to ten wriggling stalks, sprouted from the top of the orblike body.  A beholder, but one that had seemingly gouged out its own central eye.

“Oh…crap,” whispered Allanon.


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## Chaostream

Oh crap indeed. Hehe.
I have to say I'm very impressed with the story so far. All of the characters are well on their way to developing distinct and interesting personalities and the pace is great. I love the new character, Berek, already, and the fact that there's a wild mage in the party makes me want to fanboy everywhere. Keep up the good work.


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## ltclnlbrain

Woo hoo, my first official non-player commentator (NPC).  Thanks for the support.

Expect much more character development, plot twists, and fun wild surges as the story continues.  Chapter 7 will hopefully be up some time in the next few days.


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## Terenon

*Beaten Mage*

As you have read I really had my ass handed to me. Fortunately the question of what to do with Osterel was solved. "We will mourn her loss forever...quick get her stuff."

The Mage Beholder was a surprise. Soon alignments of the party came into play and never left.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 7

The beholder gave the party an appraising look with its eyestalks before responding.

"So, you are not with the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame, then?  Intriguing.  I am Orichalxos.  If you have not come to destroy me, then why are you here?"

The adventurers exchanged nervous glances, then Allanon stepped forward.  "The Hidden Flame has been ambushing parties traveling along the Surbrin Way and taking many prisoners.  We were sent to investigate and discovered that this cult was behind the disappearances.  In our earliest battle, we managed to gain the trust of one of the cultists, who mentioned this forbidden observatory.  Forbidden from anyone by order of the late Flame Lord.  So we investigated, and here we are; I am known as Allanon Harpell."

"And I am Grundar,” said the elf, being careful not to look directly in any of the floating aberration’s eyes.  He had heard stories about the magical powers beholders had, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of any of them.  “As our friend Allanon said, we are not from the cult.  We had come upon the Flame Lord Moskogg's papers mentioning your deal with him.  Just what exactly is this deal you had with Moskogg?"

"The deal was quite simple,” said Orichalxos.  “I have lived in this vale for many years, studying the research the Selskaryn conducted before they were wiped out.  The Acolytes moved in several months ago and agreed to leave me alone if I returned the favor.  They plan to free Bazim-Gorag, however, which would have serious repercussions across the Realms should they succeed.  Not to mention that I want the Vale back to myself.  Therefore, I am willing to deal with you.  I will pay you well if you can drive the adherents of the Hidden Flame from the Dungeon of the Ruins.  I can provide you with the history of the area, which may prove helpful to you later on."

Terenon overcame his nervousness and stepped closer to the beholder and smiled broadly.  "Well it seems no one wants these Acolytes of the Hidden Flame to succeed.  Not even you, Orichalxos.  My name is Terenon.  We both have the same goal.  Your payment only sweetens the deal.  Provide us with all the knowledge you have on the Hidden Flame, the Dungeon of the Ruins and the history of this area, and I will guarantee the elimination of the Acolytes.”

The mage turned to look at the machine behind the beholder and the piles of books and papers.  He glanced back at Orichalxos.  "I too have a great deal of interest in the arcane.  What is this machine, and who were the Selskaryn?"

"This machine is an orrery," said Orichalxos.  "An apparatus which illustrates, by the revolution of balls moved by wheelwork, the relative size, periodic motions, positions, and orbits, of this world Toril and the other heavenly bodies that travel through the heavens.  And as for who the Selskaryn were, that is a longer tale, as detailed in The Fall of the Tower of the Star by the one of the last Selskar wizards, Vandar Nightshade."

"In the year of Oaths Forsaken, a cabal of wizards cast out from Netheril formed an arcane college in the pristine wilderness of the ancient North.  Known as the Selskar Order, the cabal took over a ruined dwarven stronghold named Andalbruin in the foothills of the Frost Hills.  The Netherese built a village atop the ruins, centered on a school of wizardry, which they called Selskartur, the Tower of the Star.  The Selskaryn claimed to be neutral in the affairs of the world, but in truth they were ambitious and haughty."

"In time, the Selskar Order might have become yet another wizard-ruled tyranny in western Faerun and gone the way of Athalantar or Illusk.  But fate intervened in the form of Harska Thaug, the Render of Thrones--a troll warlord who had united the savage humanoids of the North into a bloodthirsty raiding horde.  In the Year of Rumbling Earth, Harska Thaug led his horde south from the Spine of the World against the elves of Rilithar, a remnant of ancient Illefarn that lay on the eastern slopes of the Sword Mountains.  The town of Andalbruin stood directly in the troll lord's path."

"The Ar-magus Ilviroon, then leader of the Selskar Order, rallied the school to defend Andalbruin.  But although the massed Selskaryn inflicted tremendous damage on Harska Thaug's horde, the shamans and warpriests serving the Render of Thrones blunted many of the magical assaults unleashed from the Tower of the Star.  At last, Ilviroon decided to use his mightiest weapon to drive Harska Thaug from the vale.  The ar-magus cast a gate spell and summoned the slaad lord Bazim-Gorag, also called the Firebringer, and made a deal with him to burn Harska Thaug's army."

"Bazim-Gorag did as the Selskaryn desired, wreaking great slaughter among the trolls and orcs.  Harska Thaug and the survivors of his horde fled back to the Spine of the World.  But the price the slaad lord demanded for his labor was high, and when the Selskaryn hesitated to pay, he turned on the Tower of the Star, scouring the citadel and slaughtering several of the mages.  Angered by the slaad lord's rebellion, Ilviroon resolved to break Bazim-Gorag to his will.  The ar-magus enticed the slaad into a devious trap, then worked a mighty binding spell in cooperation with a few other survivors to imprison him in the deep vaults of the tower.  The ar-magus created a relatively simple set of conditions, which he named the rite of unbinding, for the slaad's freedom.  But he did not share the details of this ritual with anyone, fearing that an ambitious underling might turn Bazim-Gorag against him."

"Decimated by the onslaught of the trolls and the battle with the slaad lord, the Selskaryn struggled to rebuild.  But the following winter, Harska Thaug returned with an even greater horde.  The Ar-Magus Ilviroon fell in battle before he could coerce Bazim-Gorag to aid the cabal against the trolls and orcs a second time.  The Tower of the Star fell, and the Selskar Order was no more.  Harska Thaug's horde continued south, overrunning the Fair Folk of Rilithlar two years later."

The beholder grimaced as he completed his tale.  "Now, the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame work to free Bazim-Gorag from his prison beneath the ruins of the Tower of the Star, what is now known simply as the Dungeon of the Ruins."

Terenon shifted uncomfortably as he digested the beholder’s history listen.  "If the ar-magus set the ritual of unbinding himself and told no one, how did the Acolytes find it?"

"I am uncertain how the Acolytes managed to discover the rite of unbinding,” replied Orichalxos.  “There are powerful magicks that can reveal things of that nature, though.  Perhaps one of the cultists cast a legend lore spell?"

"Well, I see no reason to threaten you or your work here,” said Terenon.  “You did mention a reward.  What specifically did you have in mind?  Once we are done dealing with the slaad lovers, I'm sure we will return to collect it."

The beholder smiled.  "I'm sure we can work some sort of suitable price for your aid in this matter.  Say, a few thousand gold pieces worth of cash and equipment for each of you?  We can discuss the exact amount once the deed is done."

"Sounds good to me,” said Grundar, making some calculations in his head as to how large their reward would be.  “We shall be back once we rid the vale of this cult."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't expect we're to actually trust that great big ball of lies, eh?"  Berek growled, thrusting a thumb back towards the observatory.  "I mean, why not kill it, then do what he wants?  If it even turns out to be everything he claims?"  Snorting, the dwarf cracked his knuckles uneasily.  "Don't trust anything that speaks that well and that much.  Ain't the way things're supposed to work.”

“That creature is pure evil,” said Gillian softly.  “I took the liberty of reading his aura while you were talking.  Nothing but bad news.”

Terenon turned to the gruff dwarf and arched an eyebrow.  "What makes you think anybody here trusts that floating abomination?  Our goal is the same now as before we met that thing...to destroy the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame.  Just because it wants us to do what we were already going to do, does not mean we're working for it.  I fully believe it will try and get out of rewarding us.  However, I am not comfortable about killing anything that has done nothing wrong that I am aware of."

"Bah!" Berek said, rolling his eyes.  "It's a beholder which lives amongst evil creatures and somehow has enough wealth to offer us a reward.  Bettin' odds lie with it bein' a bastard."  He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke again.  "It’s your show though, as I damn well barely know what's going on here.  If you want me to wait until after he pays us--assuming he don't just try to kill us or shirk us--then I suppose I could always just beat his eyeballs'n then.  Course, if'n you’re just doin' this for the reward, I don't see why we can't just kill 'em now and take the whole kettle of fish..."

"I do sympathize with you and Gillian,” said Rhys, “but I do see a greater good in stopping the slaad lord.  There will be plenty of bloodshed in our future, and if we can avoid more of it by working with the beholder, then I have to agree with Terenon."

“Well then, before we head off to the ruins,” said Terenon, “we should probably check in with that woman who escaped from the barracks house.  Degradzel, Osterel said her name was.  If you all will wait a few minutes, I will attempt to scry on her.”

The mage pulled out a mirror from his pack and set it up against the wall of the observatory.  He then cast his spell and was rewarded as an image began to form.  In the mirror, Terenon could see Degradzel and her immediate surroundings.  Degradzel was seated in a large chair across from a wooden table.  Seated at the table, a man with a shaven head wearing robes of iridescent green examined several documents.  A sheathed longsword laid across the table within easy reach.  Degradzel was helping the man go over the documents; both were all but silent.

Terenon looked deeper into the looking glass, trying to read the papers.  The documents that Terenon could see seemed to be notes about troop movements and attack plans once the Firebringer was freed from his prison.  A few also appeared to be propositions for alliance and threats of destruction to those who might defy the Firebringer's will.

Terenon dismissed the spell and turned his attention to the group.  "From what I've seen, it suggests that this scheme to release the slaadi is backed by a kingdom.  It's not just a bunch of crazed cultists.  Very interesting…very interesting indeed."

"Don't change a lot.  Well, maybe a bit more killin' in the end, I suppose," Berek grunted, clearly less than shocked at this new information.

“Well,” said Grundar, “at any rate, we better make a move soon and head toward the ruins.  We don’t want to give the Acolytes longer to prepare than we already have.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Allanon.  “Let’s head out.”


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 8

The adventurers made their way back to the barracks house.  It was eerily silent; with the cultists there having been defeated, nothing remained to make a sound.  They passed through the ruins and started making their way along the winding path that led up the hill to the Dungeon of the Ruins.

The old keep must have been a striking place in its day.  Vast quantities of rubble littered the steep, barren slopes of the knoll, and little remained at the top except thick walls that outlined the original shape of the fortress.  The causeway climbed around the feet of the old stronghold, eventually ascending to the wreckage of an ancient gatehouse at the southern end of the keep.  None of the main keep's upper floors still stood, and the remaining structure seemed little more than an empty shell of battered walls and wind-rustled weeds.

“Seems awful quiet for the headquarters of a cult,” said Grundar as he warily looked around.  The causeway climbed up the slope to meet a flight of stone steps, which ascended to an old gate.  The gatehouse was still reasonably intact compared with the rest of the tower.  Not only did most of its walls still stand, but dark arrow slits within them still menaced the passage through the thick outer wall to the courtyard.

Grundar's sharp eyes picked out some movement.  Atop the gatehouse and behind its crenellated battlements crouched a hideously misshapen giant.  It was garbed in a large cloak that did little to conceal its hunchback.  Patches of wiry hair were scattered over its pale white skin, and large warts and other growths dotted its thick hide.  It grasped a huge crossbow in its hands as it looked about the courtyard.  It squinted in the party’s direction, but made no threatening move yet.

“Giant on top of the battlements, huge crossbow!  Quick!  Hide!" cried Grundar, ducking behind a nearby bush.

"Perhaps if we put on some of the Acolytes’ robes, he may think we’re friendly and we'd get close enough to surprise him with an attack,” suggested Rhys.

Berek hesitated at Grundar's command, eyeing the distant giant uncertainly.  On the one hand, the elf seemed to think hiding was in order and would doubtlessly be irritated if Berek failed to copy his action.  On the other hand, he would rather be struck blind by the Gods than cower behind rubble like some sort of rat.

Then there was the fact that it WAS a giant that was looming up there--as a dwarf, he was pretty much honor-bound to kill the thing.  On the other-other hand, he wasn't entirely certain how he would get up to the blasted thing...

Terenon cast a quick spell, and suddenly several illusory duplicates of himself appeared.  Noticing that Terenon had opted to not only remain standing but unleash some sort of dark magicks, Berek began to run forward.  His head was titled downward, his arms were clenched tightly against his body and his jaw was clamped tightly shut--all in an attempt to keep things stealthy.  _Damn complicated, sneaking about..._ he thought.

"Berek!” Grundar whispered as the dwarf charged forward, giving away their presence.  “Come back!  He might not see us yet!"  They could have just as easily taken cover and planned their assault better. "Oh, why did we ever agree to take him with us?"  Grundar sighed as he drew his rapier and started hustling after the dwarf.

“Too late now!” shouted Gillian as she blazed past the slower elf and dwarf.  “It’s giant-slaying time!”  Gillian rushed up the staircase leading into the keep.  The gate opened onto a courtyard about 100 feet across.  At the southwest corner stood the old gatehouse, and a flight of stone steps in the middle of the northern wall led up to another, higher courtyard.  A large, clumsy structure of fieldstone and thatch leaned against the rubble of the eastern wall.  The building looked like a ramshackle, oversized house with a crude wooden door a full 15 feet tall.

Rhys unleashed a blast of searing light at the giant.  It struck him and he howled in pain as his flesh began to boil.  However, the wound slowly began to disappear as the giant took aim down the crossbow and let loose a huge bolt that hit Berek.  Berek grunted as the bolt rooted itself in his shoulder.  Within an instant, the familiar red haze began to swirl in front of his vision...only to fade back away as he forcibly bit down on his tongue.

Berek crested the stairs into the courtyard as Gill began to speed up the guard tower.  Terenon had hoped that he would have a little longer to prepare, but he acted quickly, calling to mind a powerful enchantment that he cast on the giant.  The magic coursed through the giant’s body and he suddenly stopped moving, paralyzed and helpless.  He was unable to avoid the ball of acid that Allanon had sent hurtling toward him, nor could he even scream as the caustic acid burned his body.

Berek's metaled shoes skidedd to a halt, his head snapping upward to contemplate the stairs and what lay beyond.  Suddenly, he heard some noises coming from beyond the door of the ramshackle hut.  Hearing the the measured steps of Grundar behind him anyway, the dwarf quickly opeds to face the new threats instead of trying to rush up the stairs.  "Never beat the bloody halfling up there anyway," he muttered to himself as he gripped his weapon and idly swung it about, waiting for the new foes to present themselves.

Rhys had summoned a spiritual bastard sword which was now plugging away at the helpless giant.  Gillian made it to the top of the tower and added her chain to the melee as Terenon and Allanon flew toward the keep.  The giant atop the battlements remained paralyzed, though his large eyes betrayed his fear.  His wounds continued to slowly close up. 

Suddenly, the large wooden door swung open with a crash and two more malformed giants entered the courtyard.  Up close, Berek could see that they stood nearly 15 feet tall, more than three times his size.  Spotting the dwarf, they swung enormous flails at him.  Berek had trained many years fighting against giants, so he was able to dodge the first one's swing, but the second one crashed against his chest with enormous strength, nearly knocking the wind from him.  "Death to intruders!" one giant shouted.  "Crush the little ones!"

As Berek fell backwards, he couldn't help but wonder whether the stabbing pain he felt in his chest was due to his old wounds re-opening or a rib snapping.  Then, all coherent thought was lost to the anger.  With a roar of fury, the berserker scrambled back up to his feet and charged heedlessly at the giant which just struck him.  Insults spewed from his mouth as he struck repeatedly at the thing's ankles and knees.  "Long-limbed, dung-brained, sewer-breathed, ear-wax-eatin' son of an ox's testicle!"

Atop the gatehouse, Gillian performed a coup de grace on the helpless giant.  Her spiked chain sliced open the creature's belly; the contents of its abdominal cavity spilled out over the gatehouse and drip down the sides of it.

As Grundar finally made it inside the courtyard, Terenon and Allanon released powerful lightning bolts at the giants from high in the air.  They took the full brunt of the blasts, but remained standing despite the vicious burns dotting their body.  The giants lashed out at Berek with their flails again, but the dwarf managed to avoid most of the poorly-timed swings.  However, he got smashed once more; the flail connected solidly with the side of his head, making him see stars.

Berek's jaw flopped about, shattered bones shifting about painfully even as he continued to try cursing his foe.  Blood poured over his eyes and nose from the wounds on his head, blinding the dwarf to the world around him.  In the distance, mages continued to work their spells upon the constantly healing enemies.  For the berserker, none of this truly mattered.  He swung his mighty hammer three times, each blow solidly connecting with the giant’s kneecaps.  He felt the bones give way beneath his blows as the giant staggered to his knees.

The other giant raised his flail high overhead, preparing to smash what little life was left in Berek, when suddenly he was struck square in the chest by a thin green ray from Terenon’s outstretched hand.  With a brilliant flash of light, the giant’s body crumbled into a large pile of ash.  Allanon put an end to the fight by dropping an enormous ball of electricity on the remaining giant.  His blackened and burnt corpse dropped to the ground.

Berek's rhythmic pounding upon the giant’s corpse continued on for a few heartbeats even after the creature expired.  Such effort cannott be kept up for long in face of such serious injuries though and, with a visible wince of pain, the dwarf slowly toppled backwards.

“Ah, I see that my patient is ready and compliant,” said Rhys, coming up beside the unconscious dwarf, ready to heal him.  “Glad that he's a friend; I'd hate to see what would happen if he didn’t like my bill."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Berek nodded once in gratitude to Rhys as he slowly pushed himself back up to his feet. "Thanks for the magic," he mumbled, pulling up his shirt to wipe at the blood coating his face.  Once he had done that to his satisfaction, Berek began poking himself in the chest.  Now and again he gave a quiet grunt.  ”I ain't up to full speed though--those bastards really hit hard.  Suppose'n you could cast some more of that mending magic?"

Rhys smiled as he used his wand to heal the dwarf’s wounds.  “Next time, don't charge a giant with a loaded crossbow who's standing at the top of a guard tower.  Bad idea."

Berek, having finally cleaned off the crud on his face, shrugged.  "Oh, I d'nno--I coulda taken one of the bastards.  Three mighta been a bit much though.  Truth be told," he continued sheepishly, "I mighta been a bit confused as to the mage's intent back there when we first spotted the giant.  Sorta expected the thing to explode into bits when he finished casting his first spell.”

Grundar peeked out from the giant’s hut.  "All clear in here,” he called.  “I found the giant's loot, mostly jewelry, gold and silver.  I'm going to drop it in our portable hole."  He headed back into the hut and the other adventurers heard some scraping sounds, along with the jingling of coins.  Moments later, Grundar emerged with a smile on his face.  "All done.  Let's check out the rest of the place.  I wonder if the cult hired the giants to guard this place.  Well, they didn't do a good job."  The elf looked pointedly at the pile of ash and the acid-burned body on the ground.

“Well, it’s a bit late to ask them now,” said Terenon.  “Questioning their souls would just be a waste of Torm’s blessing.  Perhaps we should just find a way to get in.”

A flight of stone steps led from the lower courtyard, beside the gatehouse, up to a high courtyard placed immediately before the wreckage of the ancient keep.  If any gate once separated the lower court from the upper one, it was long gone, and the buildings that once stood within these walls were nothing more than rubble.  In the center of the courtyard, another flight of steps rose toward the gate of the keep itself, stopping 10 feet short.  A drawbridge must once have spanned this gap, but now several planed timbers formed a temporary bridge to the keep.  The structure's original doors had been replaced by new ones made from thick green timbers lashed together.  A crude lock secured the gate.

Looking at the padlock, Grundar fished in his pockets and retrieved the key he had taken from Flame Lord Moskogg’s body.  The key fit easily into the lock, and with a quick twist, the gate opened.


----------



## Terenon

*Fun Battle*

The battle was fun, and exciting. Berek showed himself to be a wild card, you never knew what the bezerker was going to do.


----------



## Pelwrath

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Chapter 6
> 
> The night passed without incident.  Berek founds a relatively open area where he could dispose of the bodies without risking setting fire to the forest.  With that grisly work out of the way, he joined the others in rest.  Grundar arose from his reverie about four hours before the others; he watched the sun rise over the treetops while waiting for the others to awaken.
> 
> After a brisk breakfast, the adventurers retraced their steps about half a mile and took the road they bypassed the night before.  Within a bend of the stream ahead rose a low hill, crowned by the ruins of a domed building.  Most of the dome had collapsed, leaving a jagged roofline above thick octagonal walls.  The structure was made of polished white stone that was now covered with a thick patina of dirt and climbing ivy.  Ancient designs of moons and stars lined the upper portions of the outer walls, interspersed with narrow, slitlike windows.  A pair of massive green bronze doors marked the main entrance.
> 
> “I would assume the entry way is trapped,” said Terenon, “but I have no skill in finding such things.  I believe the key you took should work for the door."
> 
> Grundar walked up to the bronze doors and began checking out the area for traps, being careful to take his time.  Once he was satisfied that there were no traps, he put in the key and tried to unlock the door.  Unfortunately, the key didn’t fit.  “Looks like it goes somewhere else,” he said, shrugging.  He pushed on the door a bit, but it didn’t budge.  “It’s stuck.”
> 
> The group studied the door for a bit, trying to figure out how to get in.  Getting fed up with waiting, Allanon stepped forward and waved for the others to get behind him.  Grabbing at the raw essence of magic in the Vale, he formed it into a spell and gestured at the door commanding it to open.
> 
> Nothing happened.
> 
> Well, not exactly nothing.  Allanon could feel his whole body getting smaller in size.  The whole world seemed to grow until he finally stabilized at a height no taller than Gill.  He looked around in surprise at the results of the surge, and the rest of the party burst out in laughter.  About a minute later, he grew back to his normal size.
> 
> Terenon looked at the wild mage with amusement. "I have the spell knock.  Obviously you are in a hurry."  The mage let the arcane syllables slip from his mouth, and the rusty doors squealed in protest as they swung open.
> 
> A magnificent dome once crowned the building, but it had collapsed long ago, leaving the interior open to the sky.  Heaps of rubble lay here and there.  In the center of the building, a large platform rose 10 feet above the floor, supported by thick columns.  Steep, narrow stairs led from the floor up to the platform, and slender balconies accessible via other flights of stairs ran along the north and south walls.  Some sort of pedestal or mount stood atop the platform, and a small bronze door was located beneath the platform
> 
> The adventurers passed through the door and looked around, but before they had time to see much, two arrows flew at them from on top of the platform!  One bounced off of Allanon's mage armor, but the other sunk deep into Terenon's shoulder.  Now that they had attacked, the group could see two gargoyles clad in studded leather armor and wielding shortbows at the lip of the platform, cloaked in shadows.  From beside the door, a third gargoyle charged at Osterel.  It rammed into her with its horns and gored a large hunk out of her side, causing her to scream in pain.  Its horns dripping Osterel's blood (which changed colors at random like her eyes), the gargoyles hissed menacingly.
> 
> Before anybody could react, the gargoyles on the platform sent a barrage of arrows sailing at the mages.  One arrow sunk deep into Allanon's chest, while the second was barely deflected by the mage armor.  Unfortunately, the two arrows aimed at Terenon hit their mark, causing the wizard to collapse to the ground, dying.  The third gargoyle tore at Osterel with its claws.  The first claw opens up a bloody streak across the chaond's chest.  She staggered to her knees, but not for long; the second claw tore across her throat, opening it up and causing her blood to spray all over the creature and the floor.  Osterel collapsed in a quickly growing pool of blood, lying quite still and lifeless.
> 
> “Rhys!  Terenon is down!” shouted Grundar.  The spry elf drew his rapier and tumbled around Osterel’s killer, opening a small puncture wound in its chest with his blade.
> 
> "Fat lot of good being quiet did us!" Berek shouted as he rushed towards the platform, boots clomping loudly on the floor.  "'Least if I had blown through the door we mighta had the element of surprise for a moment or two!"  He scarcely missed a beat as he reached the stairs, leaping upward on them two at a time.  Drawing near the gargoyles, his teeth snapped together with a loud clack, foam bubbled at his lips, and his shoulder lowered as he lines his body up for a bull rush.  Shouting like a madman, the dwarf charged into the one on the left, plummeting down with him the 20 feet to the ground, landing hard and throwing chunks of stone across the room.
> 
> As Rhys moved over to tend Terenon’s wounds with Torm’s holy energy, Gillian raced up the stairs as well.  Instead of leaping off the platform like the dwarf did, she took a few moments to get her bearings.  Heaps of rubble cluttered the platform's surface.  At its center stood the wreckage of a great device--a machine composed of lenses and gears aimed blindly toward the sky.  Three foul nests of uncured hides and gore-spattered clothing lay atop the platform as well.  Gill then lashed out at the last gargoyle with her spiked chain, scoring a hit.
> 
> The gargoyle on the ground lashed out at Grundar with its claws, teeth, and horns, but he was able dodge or parry each of the attacks.   Grundar responded with a flurry of quick strikes that created several more bleeding wounds on the creature’s body.
> 
> "I may have been too late to prevent ye from shooting your blasted pin-pricks," Berek howled at his foe as he rolled to his feet, gobs of spittle flying with every word, "but I'll be damned if you'll leave this place in one piece!"  The dwarf looked mad before—now he looked truly insane.  Blood dribbled down his chin from where he'd begun to gnaw on his lip in anticipation, while his fingers flexed and twitched randomly on his hammer hilt.  His foe scrambled to its feet and, flapping its stony wings took to the air.  Berek delivered a massive parting shot with his hammer, but the creature survived and flapped across the room.
> 
> The third gargoyle spread its wings and lifted off the platform; Gill took a parting swipe at it but the chain passed harmlessly beneath.  The creature flew backward and fired its bow at her, but she easily deflects the arrow out of the way.
> 
> As Allanon and Rhys concentrated on defenses against the gargoyles, Terenon regained consciousness and rose shakily to his feet.  He thought he had been dead, and that scared him.  Cursing the gargoyles’ ancestors, the mage counterattacked with a blast of chain lightning.  Unfortunately, the nimble creatures were able to completely evade the deadly magic.
> 
> The two gargoyles in the air flapedp about the room, firing their bows at Gill.  She deflected one of the arrows but was struck in the shoulder by the second.  Again the third gargoyle lashed out at Grundar, and again he avoided the attacks.
> 
> Seeing that the gargoyles were giving as well as they were taking, Rhys closed his eyes briefly before chanting, "Torm's might is known to all, for evil is his foe.  No matter the time or place or form it takes, no barrier can stop it.  Guide our arms and strengthen our hearts while the true words of the one true deity cause pain to our enemies’ ears and fill their minds with fear and dread."  The magic of the spell flowed through his allies and enemies.
> 
> Berek stepped up and engaged the landbound gargoyle in melee—though, strangely enough, he seemed to be splitting his time between swinging his weapon back and forth and freeing a hand to...well...punch himself in the side of the head.  Whatever the reason Berek had for doing it, it certainly didn’t slow him down.  He kept on swinging his maul until the gargoyle was a bloody pulp on the ground, then swung some more for good measure.
> 
> Deciding they could use some aerial support, Allanon began to cast a spell to summon a celestial griffon.  As he worked his magic, Terenon worked some of his own and telekinetically tore of the gargoyles’ bows out of its hands.
> 
> Seeing Allanon beginning to summon something, the gargoyle that still had its bow fired at Allanon, scoring a hit in his shoulder.  Luckily, the sorcerer was able to retain concentration on the spell.  The second gargoyle charged down at Rhys and lashed out with a claw, but he managed to knock it aside with his staff.
> 
> Grundar moved to flank the gargoyle in front of Rhys and scored a deep hit in its back, eliciting a cry of pain and a spray of blood.  Gill also lashed it several times with her spiked chain.  Overwhelmed by the vicious assault, the creature collapsed.
> 
> Allanon utters the last syllables to his spell, and a large griffon with silver wings appeared and tore at the last remaining gargoyle, dragging it out of the air and causing both of them to plummet to the ground.  Allanon then drew upon the wild magic of the Realms and the gargoyle's form began to change, transforming into a small, cuddly bunny rabbit.  The griffon, glad to see a reasonably-sized snack, proceeded to tear the rabbit apart.
> -------------------------------------------------------------------------
> "That was so stupid of me,” muttered Terenon.
> 
> Once the griffon had finished its meal, Allanon had moved over and patted its mane.  He had thanked it for its help before dismissing it.  Rhys had then tended to the mages’ wounds as Grundar collected the gargoyles’ valuables.
> 
> “I can't believe I didn't prepare better,” Terenon continued.  “The spells I save will be of no use when I'm dead."  He looked to Rhys and smiled wanly.  "You saved my life.  Thank you.  I owe you a debt I intend to repay."
> 
> Rhys returned the smile.  “Terenon, I am grateful for your thanks, but it is nothing that any one of us would have done for another given the opportunity.  We're all in this together.  I'm sure at some point you'll return the favor.”
> 
> Berek snorted derisively and rolled his eyes.  “Enough o’ this mushy stuff, let’s get on with it.”  The dwarf paused for a long moment after speaking, clearly choosing his next words carefully.  "Not that I really care, but I don't suppose any of you would be plannin' on buryin' or coverin' or somethin' your friend over there?  I mean, she was yer friend, wasn't she?"  Berek turned pointedly towards Osterel’s body as he said this, rubbing uneasily at the back of his neck.
> 
> Terenon turned to Berek with an unsettling smile.  "She was more of a pet.  She was one of those who we are fighting.  I twisted her mind to serve us.  She deserves to rot where she dropped."
> 
> Gill and Rhys shared a concerned look, but said nothing.  The halfling then coughed a bit to change the subject.  “Hate to say it, but I have to agree with the dwarf’s first sentiment.  That fight was pretty loud, and if that Orichalxos or anybody else is around, they already know we’re coming.”
> 
> “Well then, madame,” said Grundar, gesturing toward the now-open door in the base of the platform, “ladies first.”
> 
> Beyond a door was a spiral staircase that descended about 20 feet, eventually opening into a small, subterranean chamber about 20 feet across.  A passage to the west led to a low, vaulted room filled with crates, sacks, and casks.  To the east, a larger passage led to a massive set of bronze double doors.  Along the north wall was a small, rusty door made of iron plate.
> 
> After a cursory search of the supplies that turned up nothing interesting, the party opened the large double doors.  The doors opened into a large but cluttered room, perhaps 50 feet long and 40 feet wide.  In the center of the chamber stood a great machine made of tarnished brass and rusted iron.  It consisted of several globes suspended from long arms that revolved slowly around the center of the device.  Along the walls were crude workbenches and shelves piled high with musty old tomes and parchments covered with arcane scrawlings.  The air smelled of some strange incense.
> 
> Grundar didn’t like the look of this.  There had to be something more here.  Concentrating hard, he spotted it; a disturbance in the air behind the machine.  A large creature was lurking invisible here, waiting for an excuse to attack.  Grundar leaned over to his comrades and whispered, “Somebody’s here.”
> 
> “We should try to communicate first,” replied Terenon.  Then, stepping forward, he called out, “We mean you no harm.  We are not here to fight you.  We only wish to talk.”
> 
> The creature dismissed its invisibility spell, making it visible to all in the room.  And what a sight it was.
> 
> It floated before them, a bulbous body with a huge, empty eye socket in the center of its face and a large maw filled with daggerlike teeth.  Small eyes, attached to ten wriggling stalks, sprouted from the top of the orblike body.  A beholder, but one that had seemingly gouged out its own central eye.
> 
> “Oh…crap,” whispered Allanon.



   Character developement is not very common in a posting adventure.  However, everyone's done a good job of it and playing to their alignments, as you'll all read soon.  As for the beholder, his appearance got me thinking as to why those gargoyles were actully there.


----------



## Pelwrath

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Chapter 6
> 
> The night passed without incident.  Berek founds a relatively open area where he could dispose of the bodies without risking setting fire to the forest.  With that grisly work out of the way, he joined the others in rest.  Grundar arose from his reverie about four hours before the others; he watched the sun rise over the treetops while waiting for the others to awaken.
> 
> After a brisk breakfast, the adventurers retraced their steps about half a mile and took the road they bypassed the night before.  Within a bend of the stream ahead rose a low hill, crowned by the ruins of a domed building.  Most of the dome had collapsed, leaving a jagged roofline above thick octagonal walls.  The structure was made of polished white stone that was now covered with a thick patina of dirt and climbing ivy.  Ancient designs of moons and stars lined the upper portions of the outer walls, interspersed with narrow, slitlike windows.  A pair of massive green bronze doors marked the main entrance.
> 
> “I would assume the entry way is trapped,” said Terenon, “but I have no skill in finding such things.  I believe the key you took should work for the door."
> 
> Grundar walked up to the bronze doors and began checking out the area for traps, being careful to take his time.  Once he was satisfied that there were no traps, he put in the key and tried to unlock the door.  Unfortunately, the key didn’t fit.  “Looks like it goes somewhere else,” he said, shrugging.  He pushed on the door a bit, but it didn’t budge.  “It’s stuck.”
> 
> The group studied the door for a bit, trying to figure out how to get in.  Getting fed up with waiting, Allanon stepped forward and waved for the others to get behind him.  Grabbing at the raw essence of magic in the Vale, he formed it into a spell and gestured at the door commanding it to open.
> 
> Nothing happened.
> 
> Well, not exactly nothing.  Allanon could feel his whole body getting smaller in size.  The whole world seemed to grow until he finally stabilized at a height no taller than Gill.  He looked around in surprise at the results of the surge, and the rest of the party burst out in laughter.  About a minute later, he grew back to his normal size.
> 
> Terenon looked at the wild mage with amusement. "I have the spell knock.  Obviously you are in a hurry."  The mage let the arcane syllables slip from his mouth, and the rusty doors squealed in protest as they swung open.
> 
> A magnificent dome once crowned the building, but it had collapsed long ago, leaving the interior open to the sky.  Heaps of rubble lay here and there.  In the center of the building, a large platform rose 10 feet above the floor, supported by thick columns.  Steep, narrow stairs led from the floor up to the platform, and slender balconies accessible via other flights of stairs ran along the north and south walls.  Some sort of pedestal or mount stood atop the platform, and a small bronze door was located beneath the platform
> 
> The adventurers passed through the door and looked around, but before they had time to see much, two arrows flew at them from on top of the platform!  One bounced off of Allanon's mage armor, but the other sunk deep into Terenon's shoulder.  Now that they had attacked, the group could see two gargoyles clad in studded leather armor and wielding shortbows at the lip of the platform, cloaked in shadows.  From beside the door, a third gargoyle charged at Osterel.  It rammed into her with its horns and gored a large hunk out of her side, causing her to scream in pain.  Its horns dripping Osterel's blood (which changed colors at random like her eyes), the gargoyles hissed menacingly.
> 
> Before anybody could react, the gargoyles on the platform sent a barrage of arrows sailing at the mages.  One arrow sunk deep into Allanon's chest, while the second was barely deflected by the mage armor.  Unfortunately, the two arrows aimed at Terenon hit their mark, causing the wizard to collapse to the ground, dying.  The third gargoyle tore at Osterel with its claws.  The first claw opens up a bloody streak across the chaond's chest.  She staggered to her knees, but not for long; the second claw tore across her throat, opening it up and causing her blood to spray all over the creature and the floor.  Osterel collapsed in a quickly growing pool of blood, lying quite still and lifeless.
> 
> “Rhys!  Terenon is down!” shouted Grundar.  The spry elf drew his rapier and tumbled around Osterel’s killer, opening a small puncture wound in its chest with his blade.
> 
> "Fat lot of good being quiet did us!" Berek shouted as he rushed towards the platform, boots clomping loudly on the floor.  "'Least if I had blown through the door we mighta had the element of surprise for a moment or two!"  He scarcely missed a beat as he reached the stairs, leaping upward on them two at a time.  Drawing near the gargoyles, his teeth snapped together with a loud clack, foam bubbled at his lips, and his shoulder lowered as he lines his body up for a bull rush.  Shouting like a madman, the dwarf charged into the one on the left, plummeting down with him the 20 feet to the ground, landing hard and throwing chunks of stone across the room.
> 
> As Rhys moved over to tend Terenon’s wounds with Torm’s holy energy, Gillian raced up the stairs as well.  Instead of leaping off the platform like the dwarf did, she took a few moments to get her bearings.  Heaps of rubble cluttered the platform's surface.  At its center stood the wreckage of a great device--a machine composed of lenses and gears aimed blindly toward the sky.  Three foul nests of uncured hides and gore-spattered clothing lay atop the platform as well.  Gill then lashed out at the last gargoyle with her spiked chain, scoring a hit.
> 
> The gargoyle on the ground lashed out at Grundar with its claws, teeth, and horns, but he was able dodge or parry each of the attacks.   Grundar responded with a flurry of quick strikes that created several more bleeding wounds on the creature’s body.
> 
> "I may have been too late to prevent ye from shooting your blasted pin-pricks," Berek howled at his foe as he rolled to his feet, gobs of spittle flying with every word, "but I'll be damned if you'll leave this place in one piece!"  The dwarf looked mad before—now he looked truly insane.  Blood dribbled down his chin from where he'd begun to gnaw on his lip in anticipation, while his fingers flexed and twitched randomly on his hammer hilt.  His foe scrambled to its feet and, flapping its stony wings took to the air.  Berek delivered a massive parting shot with his hammer, but the creature survived and flapped across the room.
> 
> The third gargoyle spread its wings and lifted off the platform; Gill took a parting swipe at it but the chain passed harmlessly beneath.  The creature flew backward and fired its bow at her, but she easily deflects the arrow out of the way.
> 
> As Allanon and Rhys concentrated on defenses against the gargoyles, Terenon regained consciousness and rose shakily to his feet.  He thought he had been dead, and that scared him.  Cursing the gargoyles’ ancestors, the mage counterattacked with a blast of chain lightning.  Unfortunately, the nimble creatures were able to completely evade the deadly magic.
> 
> The two gargoyles in the air flapedp about the room, firing their bows at Gill.  She deflected one of the arrows but was struck in the shoulder by the second.  Again the third gargoyle lashed out at Grundar, and again he avoided the attacks.
> 
> Seeing that the gargoyles were giving as well as they were taking, Rhys closed his eyes briefly before chanting, "Torm's might is known to all, for evil is his foe.  No matter the time or place or form it takes, no barrier can stop it.  Guide our arms and strengthen our hearts while the true words of the one true deity cause pain to our enemies’ ears and fill their minds with fear and dread."  The magic of the spell flowed through his allies and enemies.
> 
> Berek stepped up and engaged the landbound gargoyle in melee—though, strangely enough, he seemed to be splitting his time between swinging his weapon back and forth and freeing a hand to...well...punch himself in the side of the head.  Whatever the reason Berek had for doing it, it certainly didn’t slow him down.  He kept on swinging his maul until the gargoyle was a bloody pulp on the ground, then swung some more for good measure.
> 
> Deciding they could use some aerial support, Allanon began to cast a spell to summon a celestial griffon.  As he worked his magic, Terenon worked some of his own and telekinetically tore of the gargoyles’ bows out of its hands.
> 
> Seeing Allanon beginning to summon something, the gargoyle that still had its bow fired at Allanon, scoring a hit in his shoulder.  Luckily, the sorcerer was able to retain concentration on the spell.  The second gargoyle charged down at Rhys and lashed out with a claw, but he managed to knock it aside with his staff.
> 
> Grundar moved to flank the gargoyle in front of Rhys and scored a deep hit in its back, eliciting a cry of pain and a spray of blood.  Gill also lashed it several times with her spiked chain.  Overwhelmed by the vicious assault, the creature collapsed.
> 
> Allanon utters the last syllables to his spell, and a large griffon with silver wings appeared and tore at the last remaining gargoyle, dragging it out of the air and causing both of them to plummet to the ground.  Allanon then drew upon the wild magic of the Realms and the gargoyle's form began to change, transforming into a small, cuddly bunny rabbit.  The griffon, glad to see a reasonably-sized snack, proceeded to tear the rabbit apart.
> -------------------------------------------------------------------------
> "That was so stupid of me,” muttered Terenon.
> 
> Once the griffon had finished its meal, Allanon had moved over and patted its mane.  He had thanked it for its help before dismissing it.  Rhys had then tended to the mages’ wounds as Grundar collected the gargoyles’ valuables.
> 
> “I can't believe I didn't prepare better,” Terenon continued.  “The spells I save will be of no use when I'm dead."  He looked to Rhys and smiled wanly.  "You saved my life.  Thank you.  I owe you a debt I intend to repay."
> 
> Rhys returned the smile.  “Terenon, I am grateful for your thanks, but it is nothing that any one of us would have done for another given the opportunity.  We're all in this together.  I'm sure at some point you'll return the favor.”
> 
> Berek snorted derisively and rolled his eyes.  “Enough o’ this mushy stuff, let’s get on with it.”  The dwarf paused for a long moment after speaking, clearly choosing his next words carefully.  "Not that I really care, but I don't suppose any of you would be plannin' on buryin' or coverin' or somethin' your friend over there?  I mean, she was yer friend, wasn't she?"  Berek turned pointedly towards Osterel’s body as he said this, rubbing uneasily at the back of his neck.
> 
> Terenon turned to Berek with an unsettling smile.  "She was more of a pet.  She was one of those who we are fighting.  I twisted her mind to serve us.  She deserves to rot where she dropped."
> 
> Gill and Rhys shared a concerned look, but said nothing.  The halfling then coughed a bit to change the subject.  “Hate to say it, but I have to agree with the dwarf’s first sentiment.  That fight was pretty loud, and if that Orichalxos or anybody else is around, they already know we’re coming.”
> 
> “Well then, madame,” said Grundar, gesturing toward the now-open door in the base of the platform, “ladies first.”
> 
> Beyond a door was a spiral staircase that descended about 20 feet, eventually opening into a small, subterranean chamber about 20 feet across.  A passage to the west led to a low, vaulted room filled with crates, sacks, and casks.  To the east, a larger passage led to a massive set of bronze double doors.  Along the north wall was a small, rusty door made of iron plate.
> 
> After a cursory search of the supplies that turned up nothing interesting, the party opened the large double doors.  The doors opened into a large but cluttered room, perhaps 50 feet long and 40 feet wide.  In the center of the chamber stood a great machine made of tarnished brass and rusted iron.  It consisted of several globes suspended from long arms that revolved slowly around the center of the device.  Along the walls were crude workbenches and shelves piled high with musty old tomes and parchments covered with arcane scrawlings.  The air smelled of some strange incense.
> 
> Grundar didn’t like the look of this.  There had to be something more here.  Concentrating hard, he spotted it; a disturbance in the air behind the machine.  A large creature was lurking invisible here, waiting for an excuse to attack.  Grundar leaned over to his comrades and whispered, “Somebody’s here.”
> 
> “We should try to communicate first,” replied Terenon.  Then, stepping forward, he called out, “We mean you no harm.  We are not here to fight you.  We only wish to talk.”
> 
> The creature dismissed its invisibility spell, making it visible to all in the room.  And what a sight it was.
> 
> It floated before them, a bulbous body with a huge, empty eye socket in the center of its face and a large maw filled with daggerlike teeth.  Small eyes, attached to ten wriggling stalks, sprouted from the top of the orblike body.  A beholder, but one that had seemingly gouged out its own central eye.
> 
> “Oh…crap,” whispered Allanon.



   Everybody is doing a great job in the character developement and playing to their alignment.  As for the beholder, his appearance got me to thinking as to why those gargoyles were actually there.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Er, Pelwrath?  Next time you reply, you may not want to quote the entire post!  It takes up a lot of unnecessary space.  If you wouldn't mind editing your posts to eliminate the quotes, or just quote a smaller part of it, I'd appreciate it.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 9

The chamber north of the gate was evidently a forehall in the tower's earlier days. Enough remained of the floor above to enclose the room, but the walls were little better than mounds of rubble, and the beams overhead sagged alarmingly. A passage to the north led through the rubble. To the west, an archway leading to another hall had been boarded up. Part of the northern wall seemed to be in better condition than the rest of the room.

Allanon felt a slight change in the fabric of the Weave as he stepped into the hall.  "Terenon, Rhys; be careful casting spells in this place. The magic feels unstable in this hall.  It is a zone of wild magic. Anything you cast could be...altered by the energy of this place."

“Well then,” said Terenon, “I’ll just cast my spell from back in the courtyard.”  The wizard muttered some arcane syllables and an invisible magical sensor appeared.  He sent the arcane eye to scout ahead of the group, floating along the northern path. It curved around a hallway to the east before turning north and then west on the other side of the wall.

Like the forehall outside, this portion of the ruined keep still had something of a ceiling, although the rafters were bent and broken. This chamber seemed to have been the main kitchen of the old citadel--the walls still housed several large hearths with iron fittings. The area was divided by the remnants of interior walls into what must once have been storerooms. The rubble and debris had been cleared away from a steep stone staircase that lea down.

There was another boarded doorway at the western end of the hall. The eye slipped through a crack in the boards to see the room beyond. This hall was open to the sky but surrounded by the remaining old citadel walls. Heaps of rubble filled most of the room, making the footing uneven. The floor, in the few places where it was visible, was made of black, glossy tile flecked with brilliant white stars. There was no indication of what the boards' purpose was.

Seeing nothing else of interest, the sensor floated back into the kitchens and down the stairs. The stairs descended about 30 feet before ending in a narrow passage with iron doors at either end. Several old skeletons in rusted hauberks had been shoved to the sides of the staircase. An iron door stood at each end of the hall; however, they sat rather flush with the floor and ceiling and the sensor could not find a way to get past them.

Terenon dismissed the sensor and told the rest of the group what he had seen.  “I’ll go first and check the pathway for traps,” said Grundar.  “Then we can take a look at that boarded-up room.”  The elf set off along the path, but before he got far, he noticed something strange about the north wall.  Looking closer, he noticed an extremely thin outline of a doorway etched into the wall and a tiny latch to open it.

He pulled on the latch and the door swung open easily. Behind the secret door laid a remarkably well-preserved chamber, octagonal in shape. The walls were built of silver-flecked black granite, and the floor was made of veined black marble. Inscribed in the floor was a circle of gleaming silver, about 6 feet in diameter.

As the rest of the group gathered around the entrance, Grundar turned to the mages.  Any idea what this room is? I wonder what is with all this black stone."

"I recognize the diagram,” said Allanon. “We have a few like it back at the Harpell mansion. The diagram is a teleportation circle. Stepping into it will send you to the spot designated by the caster. This is a very difficult spell to cast. This doesn't bode well. The Acolytes must have a very powerful magic user among them. We should leave it alone for now. There is no telling where it might lead. Let’s keep going."

"Allanon, I agree with you except for one thing,” said Terenon.  “This architecture is reminiscent of the style of the ancient Netherese.  That suggests that the cultists did not create this teleportation circle. In fact, it was secreted away and it's likely the cultists do not even know of its existence. It might be beneficial for us to use it. I can't make that decision for the group, but I suggest we find out where it leads."

"If the thing leads somewhere too hot or simply doesn't lead back at all, can ye just pop us on back with a spell?" said Berek.  He snapped his fingers loudly as he said this, giving off a small *crack*.

Terenon nodded in response, and Rhys shrugged as he considered the options. “I believe that we should make use of the circle. If the cultists don’t know about it, then we may be able to surprise them by using it.  We may be able to catch them defenseless.”

“Well,” said Terenon, “since I can only 'pop' a total of five of us, one should remain here to guard the entrance. The rest of us can see where it leads, and return for the other if it's beneficial."

"I'll stay behind if you guys want to go through,” Gillian volunteered. “Just don't be too long. I don't want to stay here by myself longer than I have to."

“Well, we don’t even know if the thing still works,” said Grundar.  “But there’s one way to find out.”

"The third canto of the Scrolls of Trantos says ‘Let not fear guide your actions, rather accept the opportunity of what it represents,’” said Rhys.

Allanon, Berek, Grundar, Rhys, and Terenon stepped onto the teleportation circle.  At first, nothing seemed to happen. Several seconds passed without any sign that the magic is still active. They were about to give up when suddenly there was a bright flash of light and they felt themselves being pulled to another place.

As they emerged from the ether at their destination, the first thing they noticed was the biting cold wind that assaulted them. The adventurers had appeared in some arctic climate on Faerun; snow and ice covered the landscape as far as they could see. Here and there, a glacier poked out of the ground, but the terrain for the most part was flat. This was probably not the destination the portal was intended to go to.

Grundar shivered against the cold and wondered why it was bothering so much, then he looked down and it hit him: he was stark naked. All of his clothing, armor, weapons, and items were missing, presumably left behind in the Selskaryn keep.  Looking at the other adventurers, he saw that they too were as naked as the day they were born.  Apparently, the ancient Selskaryn had a sense of humor.

"Terrreeeennoonnn... gggettt uss outtt off heeeree..." he cried, shivering against the cold.

Terenon laughed through chattering teeth, and then instructed the others to join hands. He tried not to look at the others, but it was hard to avoid. Even in the cold weather Berek’s wedding tackle was inordinately large. He now knew the myth about the dwarves was true, to his shriveled dismay.  For his part, Berek seemed unfazed, fishing some lint out of his belly-button.  

The mage uttered a few words and, with another bright flash, the adventurers appeared back inside the room of the Dungeon of the Ruins. All of their clothing and equipment was piled in the teleportation circle. Gillian stared dumbfounded at the men when they reappeared, then blushed tremendously and quickly turned the other way.

"You guys might want to put your clothes back on," she said sheepishly. "Glad I didn't go through the circle, or you boys would have gotten a free show," she added, chuckling.

“Well, that was interesting,” said Rhys.  “A most intriguing destination.”

"Might bit nippy through the spell-hole, eh?" Berek commented wryly as he began to pull on his pants. "What say we not do that again?"

"I don’t think that was the circle’s intended destination,” said Allanon.  “Obviously a key that’s attuned to the gate is needed for it to function the way we want."

“Yes, obviously,” muttered Berek.

“We’ll come back here later,” said Terenon.  “Grundar, why don’t you and I go check out that boarded-up room?”

“Berek and I will go down to the courtyard and watch our backs,” said Gillian.  “I don’t want anything sneaking up on his while we are unaware.”

Grundar twisted a small ring on his finger and uttered a command word.  This ring gave him the power to ‘blink’ back and forth between the Ethereal and Material Plane, so he could walk through small doors and walls with it.  When Grundar first activated the ring of blinking, though, he was surprised to see that Rhys started blinking instead of him. Frustrated, he stopped the effect and tried to activate it again. This time, though, a thin green ray shot out of the ring and struck the wooden barricade, disintegrating it into ash as Terenon did to the giant a few minutes earlier. “Must be the wild magic zone,” said Grundar as he and Terenon entered the room.

The footing in the room was treacherous because of all the rubble, so they were careful to keep their balance as they looked across the room.  After a few seconds in the room, though, all of Grundar's and Terenon's magical items began to glow with a soft white radiance. They were then surprised to see two translucent figures suddenly appear in the air in front of them. They appeared to be ghostly humans, one male and one female, clad in full plate and wielding halberds; they glowed with a faint green radiance and their faces were contorted into expressions of anger.  They didn’t look happy to see the adventurers.

For his part, Terenon was not happy to see the ghosts either. He knew they were capable of devastating attacks and he wanted no part of it. "I guess that's why it was boarded up,” the mage said.  He cast a quick spell that created several illusory duplicates of himself then retreated, Grundar hot on his heels.

Rhys watched Grundar and Terenon flee the room, as if they'd seen a ghost.  The priest took a look in and sees that they did, in fact, see two ghosts.  He walked into the room, his hands held out in a diplomatic gesture. “I am Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm,” the aasimar cleric said. “My friends and I have come seeking answers and knowledge about this place. I would ask what it is that has kept you here and not allowed you to complete your final journey."

The ghosts made no indication that they could understand Rhys. Instead, they held their palms out at him and a blue ray shot out of them, striking Rhys in the chest. The rays were extremely cold, and Rhys felt his chest go numb, as if the rays were sapping away at his very life force. Gritting his teeth, the priest held forth his holy symbol and shouted, "Get back ye creatures of death! Let the might of Torm dispel the power that binds you here!"  Unfortunately, the holy energy that resulted did not affect the ghosts at all.

“Fall back to the courtyard!” cried Grundar as he and Terenon began to hustle back the way they came.  Allanon stepped up to the room, though, determination on his face.  “I’ll take care of them!” he cried.  Once more drawing upon the chaotic fabric of the Weave, he attempted to use the magic to halt the ghosts in their tracks.  One of them succumbed to the surge and ceased movement, but the other was unaffected.  Unfortunately, the raw magical energies backlashed through his body and cause him to...change...

His body shifted and stretched painfully, contorting his features and musculature. His hair grew longer, his beard shortened and disappeared, his chest stretched outward, and his hips widened. In the space of a few seconds, he was transformed into a woman!  Allanon had little time to consider his new form as the second ghost blasted him with its chill ray, draining his…er, her life force.

Once outside in the courtyard, Grundar activated his ring of blinking, then grabbed for a potion at his belt. "The wild magic zone is wreaking havoc in there with two ghosts attacking us,” he told Berek and Gillian. “Rhys and Allanon are in there. We have to get in there and help them."

Terenon kept looking back in shock at the wild mage as he ran to the courtyard. For all he knew, this change might be permanent. “No sane man would ever consider wild magic a vocation!” he shouted as he raced ahead.

Allanon felt her life force being drained away and decided to put the questions about her new anatomy on the back burner. She ran down the hall after the others.  As she passed Terenon she yelled back, "This..." Pausing a second at the sound of her melodious voice, she continued, "...is nothing. For four years of my life I was a halfling. Shame that it took that long to find out a simple dispel would lift the transmutation. Of course, it took a year of dispel attempts to revert me to my true form. I guess I'm stuck like this for the moment."

Gillian raced along the path and entered the rubble filled room, striking a ghost with her holy spiked chain.  Apparently the attack was successful as the ghost’s body wavered and distorted momentarily.  The ghost fired off a chill ray at the halfling, but she nimbly dodged the bolt and it struck naught but rubble. 

Berek, pausing only to first fling a rather large nose goblin he discovered lodged within his nose, charged up towards the others. _Gauging from all the belly-achin' going' on up there, the mystic ones done messed-up yet again...like children, they are,_ he thought as he hustled along the path.

Terenon cast a spell as Berek ran by, and his form shifted and wavered.  Within the space of a few seconds, he had transformed himself into a large naga.

Finally reaching the end of the wild magic zone, Allanon stopped running. She took a moment to examine her new form. She seemed to be a hair taller than before, but she had a lighter skin tone. Her face was now beardless and its skin was smooth and unmarred. Her hair was a silky black and reached to below her shoulders. She also had some new parts that she was pretty sure weren't there in the morning. From what she saw, she wouldn't call herself endowed, but all the parts of her seemed to fit together in a complete beauty that must be breathtaking to behold. Figuring she'd better get to helping her friends, she moved her now delicate fingers through the motions of a familiar spell. A slight tingle caressed her body as the mage armor encompassed it.

Gillian attacked the ghost a few more times, but her spiked chain passed harmlessly through its body.  Berek swung his hammer about, trying to connect with the nearest ghost without falling over if his weapon simply went right through it. The dwarf's concentration admittedly was a bit off, owing largely to a few thoughts running rampant about in his mind. _Did a funny-lookin' woman and a big-ass snake-man just run past me?_

Rhys attempted to turn the undead again, but failed.  He then beat a hasty retreat toward the courtyard, full of doubts about his faith and his abilities. Rhys ran out into the hall right before Grundar downed his potion and raced the way he came. Terenon, now in the form of a naga, maneuvers into the hall and fired five bolts of energy at the ghost. They slammed into its form and cause energy to course all through the undead creature, ultimately dissipating its incorporeal body. Unfortunately, the second ghost overcame Allanon's spell of holding. Its chill ray struck Gill, freezing her lifeblood and striking at her very constitution.

_...I mean, that's what they looked like when they zipped past. Only, see, there are all these wizard-types movin' about; maybe one of 'em did it on purpose?_ Berek's lips moved slowly as his mind struggled over this puzzle. Thankfully, his arms moved about on their own, leading the way with his weapon as he steadily moved about. _But why would one of them purposefully turn into a woman? I mean, the snake thing I can kinda figg'r out...but a woman? Maybe a woman is more magical than a man? Bah. Stupid wizards._

Gillian, Berek, and Grundar furiously attacked the ghost with their weapons, but many of the attacks simply passed through its body.  Terenon blasted it with more magic missiles, but it remained intact.  It fired its chill ray at Grundar this time, but he managed to avoid it.

As Rhys restored some of the damage the ghost had done to his body, Allanon reentered the room and sent out five magical missiles at the undead.  Unfortunately, the missiles merely impacted harmlessly with its body; apparently, the ghost had some resistance to magic.

Terenon had basically run out of spells to cast, so he decided to change into a more powerful form.  "If you’re injured, drop your weapon and run,” he told his friends. “I'll take the weapon and keep on fighting."

Terenon's voice and ludicrous idea abruptly steered Berek's mind back into reality. _'Drop your weapon'? Why would someone be injured off enough to drop their weapon? This creature is hardly even worth noticing, nonetheless slaying. Or...er...whatever this counts as. Re-slaying? What if someone brought it back afterwards? What would that be?_ Berek's face crinkled with thought as he considered this deep philosophical question.

Gill's chain passed harmlessly through the ghost's form, and Berek only found purchase on his final swing. Grundar's rapier found purchase twice, and finally the ghost dissipated.


----------



## Allanon Harpell

Heh.  This is when things really start to get interesting in the game.  The character personalities further develop, and the story becomes much more involved then the module it was spawned from.  Many more crazy wild surges on the way, so stay tuned =)


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## Terenon

*Wild Surges*

There were so many roleplaying possibilties when this happened. I was thinking that Terenon might start hitting on Allanon (the hot chick), but I didn't think it went with the character's personality. Still we had fun with it.


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## Chaostream

*Wow*

ROFL!
I am soooo amused. Berek's thoughts are genius!
Can't wait to see the sexual tension after things cool down a little either.


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## Grundar

*More to come..*

I finally got some time to actually register and read through the chapters.. This is good stuff. Much more than what i'd expect from a module.. It was a shocker to find out where it came from.. You'd think this was a custom adventure.

Chaostream, If you're looking for more romance in the story, get ready, coz its coming.. Combat's gonna get hard and heavy too..


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## Pelwrath

Yes, things do get a bit dicie from here on.  I'd been communicating with some of the others on the side about how I was playing Rhys and their, from my perspective, awsome combat capabilities.  My failure to affect the ghosts was a good point to change how I played him.  The help I got from the peanut gallery was most appreciated


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 10 will be up hopefully later this afternoon or tomorrow.  Here is a small preview:

The very first cut scene!  See what the villains are up to while the PCs invade their stronghold!

Some exploration and discussion. (Hey, they can't all be winners.)

And an encounter with some slaadi!


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## ltclnlbrain

Friendly neighborhood *bump*.   

Okay, so I haven't had much time lately to work on the story.  But I assure you something will be up by the end of the week.


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## ltclnlbrain

Good things are worth waiting for.  This one took me awhile, but it was fun to write.

Chapter 10

“I must say, Allanon, you make a most attractive woman,” said Grundar, chuckling.

"Well, don't get used to it Grundar,” Allanon replied haughtily. “I'm not planning on staying this way...despite how interesting this form may be."

Following the fight with the ghosts, the party had decided to find a safe place where they could rest and recover the constitution they had lost to the undead’s chill rays, as well as their spells.  Descending the stairs at the end of the kitchens, they passed through a door that had been rusted shut into what appeared to have once been a barracks. Ruined wooden furniture and a half-dozen armored, human-sized skeletons littered the floor, and a large, long-limbed skeleton blackened by fire occupied the center of the chamber, remnants of the ancient battle between the Selskaryn and the horde of Harska Thaug.  Despite the grisly accoutrements, there was plenty of room for all of them to roll out their bedrolls, and the fact that the door had been stuck suggested that the Acolytes had not been in this room and would not expect to find any adventurers camping out there.

The group was running low on supplies, and they needed to trade some of the loot they had gathered so far for some new items, so Terenon had volunteered to teleport to town to do the shopping.  However, as he had only prepared one teleport spell this day, he would have to wait until the next morning to return.  He had opted to travel to Waterdeep instead of Silverymoon in case Thornridge or other Acolyte spies were about.

Now, as the rest of the group prepared their camp, Allanon shifted uncomfortably against the far wall, trying to get accustomed to her new physique.  She lifted her breasts with her hands, then dropped them, wincing at the sensation it caused.  “It’s rather disturbing the way these things jiggle about every time I move,” she said.  “It would have been nice if the surge had provided me with something more supportive of my new features.”

Gillian shrugged as she wrapped up her spiked chain and stowed it within easy reach of her bedroll.  “I’d offer you some of my undergarments, but I’m afraid they’re a mite bit too small for a human,” she said apologetically.

“Maybe Terenon will get you a new wardrobe while he’s in town,” remarked Rhys.

“Terenon? Please,” huffed Allanon. “That man has no sense of fashion. Come on, brown robes? Who wears brown these days? Tacky.”

“Do you boogers plan on shuttin’ up any time soon?” asked Berek grumpily, rolling over in his bedroll. “I’m tryin’ to get me some shuteye here!”

“The dwarf has the right idea,” said Rhys. “We need our rest if we plan on taking on the Acolytes tomorrow. We don’t want to be any less than fully prepared when we encounter them.” The others agreed, and after posting watches, they were soon asleep.
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Three cloaked figures crowded around a large silver mirror. Two were human: a slender woman wearing a noble's garb of gray and pearl, and a man with a shaven head wearing robes of iridescent green. The third figure looked like a rust-skinned dwarf with a scraggly gray beard and glowing red eyes. The figures peered intently into the mirror, which depicted a strange scene: a human wizard shopping at an apothecary in Waterdeep.

"This doesn't make any sense," said the woman. "Where are the five who travel with him? Why have they not come down yet?"

"They can't be far, Degradzel," the dwarf-like figure hissed. "They defeated those fool fomorians, but they may have taken to much damage and were forced to retreat and lick their wounds. Either that, or the Selskaryn ghosts drove them off. They will be back, though, that I can assure you. At least it gives us some more time to prepare."

"More preparations, Durzhul?" the bald man asked imperiously, a menacing edge to his voice. "Your preparations did not aid us much last time. You prepared Osterel's ambush, and they overcame that. You prepared Moskogg and Varra for their assault should the ambush fail, and they slaughtered the entire barracks complex without breaking a sweat. The rank and file of the Hidden Flame are nothing to me, but they will be here soon, and no manner of preparation will help."

Durzhul cringed at the verbal assault, and bowed in obeisance to the man. "My apologies, High Conflagration. Terenon has proven more wily and powerful than Thornridge said he would be. Our minions continue to scour the countryside for the last mage we need to undo the ritual of binding, but this man is still our most immediate hope. If his companions can be eliminated and his will subverted, the Firebringer can be free at last."

The High Conflagration glared at Durzhul. "Only a fool would lead his enemies directly to his hiding place. The only reason I have allowed this to go so far is because time is running short. Acessiwal's might grows by the day, and Bazim-Gorag may be the only one who can ward off his imminent assault. The Zhentarim won't commit their troops to us until they have proof of the Firebringer's freedom. Continue your efforts to capture this mage: it may be the only chance we have. Have Xorfilstaarg’s patrol guard the teleportation circle on this level, in case they come that way."

Durzhul bowed once more. "As you wish, High Conflagration."
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"Wakey-Wakey-Eggs-and-Bakey," Berek muttered as he wanders about the room, pausing now and again to kick a forgotten bone or rock.  Around him, the others were beginning to stir from their night’s rest.  Grundar had met Terenon in the courtyard a short while ago, and they were busy doling out the goods he had purchased and preparing a light breakfast.  "Remind me again," the dwarf said distantly as he paces about, "why you all are so set on wiping these giants out?"

"It's not so much stopping some giants,” said Terenon, “as it is preventing a Slaad Lord from being released and wreaking havoc on the world."

“Ah,” said Berek, perking up at the mention of the slaad...though this new interest quickly gave way to confusion; his brow furrowed over with wrinkles. "Now might be a good time to ask: what's a slaad? I gather they're bad, what with you wanting to kill the prince one or whatever, but other than that I'm a bit in a dark about their nature."

Terenon sighed deeply before beginning. "Slaadi are froglike creatures who dwell on the outer plane of Limbo. They are masters of chaos. There are different varieties, which are designated by the color of their skin. Red are inherently weaker than the blues, and blues are weaker than green. Grays are the most powerful. They tend to heal quickly and are resistant to various forms of energy. A bite from a slaad can inflict a disease that will cause you to change into one. They also have abilities that mimic arcane magic. All in all pretty nasty beings."

“Uh huh. Big, soft frogs to squish. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” the dwarf said, hefting his maul. “Shall we get goin’, then?”
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The party left the barracks and moved to explore the rest of this section of the dungeon, which seemed to be untouched by the Acolytes. Passing through a room with a dry fountain, they entered what seemed to be a small dungeon. Six locked and stuck stone doors led to cells that were mostly empty. One cell however, contained a skeleton clad in a gleaming breastplate and tattered adventurer's garb, with a sword apparently lying under its body.

Terenon examined the room with disgust. He knew that such places were necessary to maintain order in a city, but it still was unsettling to be in such a place. He also found it odd to see someone thrown into a prison, but still have his weapon and armor. The mage spoke a minor incantation to allow him to see magical auras, and the sword and breastplate began to glow.

“I’ll get them,” said Grundar, activating his ring of blinking.  He passed through the door, only to see a skeletal creature crouched at it, beneath the viewport. Its rib cage was filled with horrid, writhing viscera. The creature's tongue was its most noteworthy feature--long, cartilaginous, and clawed. The other skeleton also animated and stood up and drew the sword, a clawed tongue hanging from its mouth.

The creatures lashed out at Grundar with their tongues, but the elf phased into the Ethereal Plane right before the tongues would have connected, and they passed through air instead. Alerting the others to the presence of the undead, Grundar dropped to a crouch and performed a barrel roll out through the walls of the cell and out of harm's way. The creatures began to bang on the stone door, but they could not escape the cell.

“Ugh, I hate undead,” he remarked. “Those nasty tongues don't look clean at all.”

“We can come back for those items later,” said Terenon. “Let’s continue exploring.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leaving the undead creatures behind, the adventurers exited back into the hallway and headed to the room to the east. More signs of ancient battle were evident here. Two long-limbed, ogre-sized skeletons lied in blackened circles in the center of the room. To the east, a sturdy iron door hung twisted from its hinges, revealing a chamber that seemed to be filled with a clutter of weapons and armor. The arms and equipment were too rusted and battered to be serviceable, though.

The party went through a door to the south into a long room lined with four storage chambers. The floor of the chambers was fifteen feet deeper than the hallway outside. The hallway and the four storage rooms are finished in crumbling brick. It looked like the floor of each storage room was covered with soggy grain.

They seemed to have reached a dead end. Grundar began to search along the walls for a possible secret exit while Rhys and Terenon moved to inspect the grain. "What kind of grain would remain moist when metal weapons would rust?” mused Rhys. “Could it be grain liquor, perhaps?”

Terenon shrugged. ”I had the same thought about the grain, especially when you look at all the skeletons about. If the liquid was spirits, I'm sure we would have noticed its smell. Whatever it is, best to leave it alone." He began to turn away, but Rhys stopped him with a glance.

“There is something else that has been gnawing at me, Terenon,” the priest said softly. “You’ve deduced that the Acolytes want to use you for the ceremony to free their lord. Why did they not choose an easier victim? Our enemies seem to be taking a grave risk to their operation by letting us get this far. If they’ve been watching us, they’ve missed at least two excellent chances to take us out while we were weak. They may be more fools than they are zealots”

"As far as the ceremony goes, we have only the information of Osterel to work from,” replied Terenon. “True, they need a mage of a particular moral bent, but is that all that is necessary? Osterel was only a lowly minion for the true powers behind this cabal. I doubt she possessed the full knowledge of what the ritual entailed. For whatever reason, they seek me, or somebody like me. Could be my blood, or mind, or soul. I don't know enough to answer with any certainty. I don't believe the ones who are masterminding this event are fools or zealots. They truly believe they can control the Slaad Lord, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. The only thing I do know is they must be stopped. If we have to stumble blindly for a time, I see no alternative."

Rhys frowned, obviously still worried, but before he could say anything Allanon approached the two.  “Grundar’s found a secret door at the end of the hall,” she said.  “We should keep moving.” Nodding assent, they followed behind her.

The secret door opened up into a short hallway with a flight of stairs leading down.  The hall ended at another secret door that opened up into another room.  A strange sense of hushed power seemed to hang over this octagonal room. Its only feature was a twenty-foot-diameter well that occupied the center of the chamber. Its sides were finished in glossy black tile flecked with tiny chips of glittering white. Bright, blue-white motes of light drifted lazily within the well, reflecting off the white flecks in the walls. The dark shaft descended quite a distance--in fact, its bottom was not visible at all. Two passageways offered egress to the south and the west.

“What do you think this is?” asked Gillian.

“A perfect place to cast arcane eye,” replied Terenon, following words with actions. The arcane eye floated down the well, the motes of light providing illumination all the way down. About thirty feet down, a small iron door was set into the east wall of the shaft; a large padlock was attached to it. Thirty feet further down at the bottom of the shaft lay a round chamber (bell-shaped in cross-section) about fifty feet in diameter and almost as tall. Wayward motes of light from the shaft drifted through the air of the room.

The eye floated back up the shaft and went down the west hallway, passing by a few doors to the south.  It reached an intersection and headed north through a gilded archway into a long rectangular room. Three tall pillars chiseled from red marble supported the ceiling of this magnificent hall. Smokeless torches in sconces illuminated the scene. The walls were made of glossy gray stone cut in geometric patterns, and the triple-vaulted ceiling rose twenty-five feet overhead. Double doors of bronze offered egress to the north and west. Through the north doors, the eye saw a room with walls of black granite and a circle of gleaming silver inscribed on the floor, similar to the secret room on the floor above.

Three hulking, froglike creatures stood watch in this chamber. Two were blue, with sicklelike blades of bone sprouting from their forearms, while the third was a mottled green color with a huge, pale belly. The green creature was enormous, towering even over its two companions.

Dismissing the sensor, Terenon related his findings to his companions.  “This may be a good chance to charm the slaadi and pump them for information.  I’ll sneak in invisibly and try to catch them all in a chained charm spell.  If it doesn’t work, I’ll call out, and that will be your cue to attack.”

“This time, Berek, wait for him to raise the alarm before charging in,” Grundar said.  Berek *harrumphed* angrily, but said nothing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xorfilstaarg grumbled to himself as he kept watch on the teleportation circle.  Behind him the two blue slaadi were arguing with each other and taking turns slicing off portions of their anatomy, only to have them grow back a few seconds later.  Slaadi were creatures of chaos, definitely not suited to staying in one place for long periods of time, but Flame Lord Durzhul had ordered him to watch this intersection.  No matter which way the adventurers came in, they would have had to pass through here; the enormous green slaad only hoped they would show up soon so that his boredom would be alleviated.

Xorfilstaarg did not notice Terenon’s sudden arrival until he had completed his spell of charming.  The slaad blinked in confusion; he knew a friend was close by, but could not see him.  He concentrated for a few moments so that his vision would pierce through any invisibility, and then turned to see the mage hovering in the air. “Hail, friend,” the green slaad croaked in a burbling voice. What are you doing way up there? What business have you here?"

Terenon dismissed his invisibility and smirked. "My friends and I are here to aid in clearing this place of traitors. It has come to my attention that some here would not like to see the glorious Firebringer loosed from his prison. I have come to recruit you to aid me." The mage yelled back to the others that he had found three friends to help them, and the rest of the group soon joined him.

The green slaad looked a bit taken aback. He looked to his two blue slaad allies, then back to Terenon, suspicion evident on his face. "Flame Lord Durzhul told us to be ready for a group matching your description. He told us to slay the lot of you. Why should we believe the words you speak now over those of our superior?"

The mage looked at the slaad with a stern face. "Flame Lord Durzhul is one of the traitorous lot. He spreads lies to further his agenda. Look into your heart. What does it tell you? I am here to fulfill the promise of releasing the Slaad Prince. I can't do that while those who wish otherwise work against me. Durzhul vies for political power. He issues orders to you to seal my death and secure his place among the Acolytes of the Flame. I will not allow this to happen. His agents are everywhere here. They already are moving to thwart the ritual. You must help me to eliminate Durzhul and his minions, or all is lost and the Firebringer will rot in his prison."

Xorfilstaarg blinked twice before letting out a hearty laugh.  The two blue slaadi joined in. "Durzhul's agents? You mean those two whiny reds that that attend to his every beck and call? I scarcely believe they could find a githzerai in Limbo. And I doubt that Flame Lord Durzhul would turn traitor on us. After all, he is the one who discovered the Rite of Unbinding, not to mention he knows better than to defy the High Conflagration's will. No, I don't think I'll be helping you today. Seems to me the best course of action would be to turn you over to Durzhul and let him decide your fate. Now you can come with me peacefully or we can do it the hard way."

He flexed his enormous muscles to emphasize his point, and the blue slaadi glared balefully at the adventurers.  Berek smiled grimly and tightened his grip on his maul.  “Time to do it the hard way,” he said.


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## Chaostream

I've always loved seeing intelligent villains, and scry has to be the first resort of any intelligent villain. Hurray for cut scenes as well.

Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.

As always, more character development which is a GREAT thing.

And I like the conspiracy theorizing as well.

The only constructive criticism I have -- stop slipping into present tense. It throws me every time I see it.

Keep up the writing, I'll be waiting


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## ltclnlbrain

Chaostream said:
			
		

> I've always loved seeing intelligent villains, and scry has to be the first resort of any intelligent villain. Hurray for cut scenes as well.
> 
> Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.
> 
> As always, more character development which is a GREAT thing.
> 
> And I like the conspiracy theorizing as well.
> 
> The only constructive criticism I have -- stop slipping into present tense. It throws me every time I see it.
> 
> Keep up the writing, I'll be waiting



 I'm doing my best to watch out for tense slips, but a few always manage to sneak by.  I am converting the story from messageboard posts, and the posts are written in present tense, so I have to change all of the verbs to past tense.  I catch most of them, but I apologize for those I miss.  I'll try to be more vigilant as I go along.


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## Pelwrath

When your driving your car and hit a bump, there are bumps and there are BUMPS.  Thios is one of the later.  Ohh the pain.


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## ltclnlbrain

Pelwrath, while I do appreciate the bump, you don't really need to post one until after the thread has slipped to the second page.  That's when you need to send it back to the top to attract more readers.

I've got Chapter 11 all typed up and ready to go, but I'll give you guys some time for this installment to sink in before I post it.  Probably in a few days.  Here is a small preview:

A small, never-before-seen cutscene featuring a new character.

The fight with the slaadi goes from bad to worse when reinforcements arrive.

Somebody will die.

Stay tuned!


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## Terenon

*Cut Scenes*

I had never played a pbem game with cut scenes. I was very imppressed and happy to see them in this one. It really made me, as a player, feel like the world was bigger and richer.


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## Jelani

Terenon said:
			
		

> I had never played a pbem game with cut scenes. I was very imppressed and happy to see them in this one. It really made me, as a player, feel like the world was bigger and richer.





I have to agree, the cut scenes are impressive. They make you feel like you're just a small part of a much bigger world; a perspective it's hard to keep in normal games. It also creates a great sense of drama, and I'd like to encourage any pbem DM's out there to try and incorporate this into their games. If I ever get back to it, I know I will.


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## ltclnlbrain

Well, I've kept you waiting long enough.   

Chapter 11

Rumar Destare sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, still clad in his full plate armor.  Sigils and holy symbols decorated virtually every available space of metal, no two of which appeared to be alike.  His two large, pearly-white wings were folded close to his body.  A squat, plumed helmet adorned his head, concealing all of his features save for the two swirling pools of gold that were his eyes.  

Rumar was an aasimar paladin, sworn to uphold the beliefs and tenets of the Upper Planes. Across from Rumar on a padded pillow rested an ornate longsword, glowing with a soft blue light.  This sword, or rather the celestial spirit contained within, was Pergium, a young and fledgling angel.  Rumar had been assigned to be Pergium’s caretaker in his early years, to indoctrinate the spirit into the ways of the world and to protect him so that one day he might make a fine addition to the heavenly choirs.

“Now then, Pergium,” Rumar said in Celestial, “what did we learn from that battle with the ogre mage?”

The sword thrummed as the spirit within answered.  “The enemies that you see may not be the only enemies that are present.  Do not take your senses for granted, as they may deceive you.  Once the enemy falls, be sure he stays down, for he might be able to regenerate his wounds.”

Rumar nodded in satisfaction.  “Very good, Pergium.  These are important lessons, and you would do well to remember them.  Heed them well as your powers increase.”

The paladin’s lesson was interrupted by an insistent knocking coming from the door.  Sighing, Rumar flapped his wings once to propel him to his feet, and then moved over to answer the door.  The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat.  Before him stood his sister, Serrila, though it looked like she had been in a hell of a fight.  Her silver hair was disheveled, her white robes torn, and dirt and dried blood covered her body.  Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as her brother took her in his arms.

“Serrila!  What happened?  You were due back in town almost a tenday ago!  Who did this to you?”

“Relax, Rumar,” she said, choking back a sob, “it’s okay.  It’s okay, I’m safe now.  The wagon we were escorting was ambushed.  It was a set up.”

Fire crackled in Rumar’s eyes as he stalked over to Pergium.  “Those who did this to you will feel the edge of my blade,” he said coldly, taking his sword into his hand.  He would have charged out of the room to seek justice for Serrila’s injuries had she not laid her hand on his arm and stared imploringly at him.  

“That won’t help, Rumar.  There are some adventurers who are even now working to eliminate the cultists who imprisoned me from the region, but there is something we can do to help.  We’re going to visit somebody.”

“Who?” the paladin inquired.

“Merik Thornridge.”
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Xorfilstaarg grinned wickedly, and suddenly the adventurers’ minds were filled with terror. Gillian's stoic presence calmed their nerves and they shook off the magical fear effect. The blue slaadi charged forward, slashing with their bone-claws. One tore a gash across Grundar's chest.  The other slashed at Rhys, but he brought his staff up and managed to parry the attack.

Grundar grimaced as he tumbled away from his assailant and flanked the one attacking Rhys. He stabbed his rapier deep into its back, causing the slaad to croak in pain. Rhys took advantage of the creature’s momentary lapse in defense and lashed out with his staff in a furious combination of blows. He hit the slaad over the head with the dragon end of his staff and thrice with the other end, bashing in the thing's skull and dropping it to the ground, twitching.

Terenon cast a spell to lock up the large green slaad's body, but the creature resisted the magical attack. Gillian slashed the other blue slaad with her spiked chain, scoring its mottled flesh. From the back of the group, Allanon cast a quick spell and let loose a large fireball at the slaadi. The green managed to dodge most of the blast, but the blue took the full brunt of it and wavered unsteadily on its feet. Berek charged at the blue: it scored a hit with its claw before he got within its reach, but then his maul shattered the thing's ribs and it went down in a heap.

Xorfilstaarg was surprised.  Both of his blue allies had fallen within a few seconds!  He needed some extra protection.  He chanted a short phrase in Slaad and waved his arms, and with a sudden flash a normal-sized green slaad appeared behind Allanon. The slaad tore at the sorceress with his teeth and claws, opening up vicious wounds and shredding her blue robes.

“Great, another one!” cried Grundar.  “I’ve got the big green meanie,” he said as he tumbled past Xorfilstaarg’s reach.  He stabbed his rapier at the creature, but as he was using his ring of blinking, he phased into the Ethereal Plane right before he struck and he failed to hit his target.

Terenon floated backward, surprised that the green slaad had shrugged off his attack.  He started an incantation and a small intensely glowing green globe hovered above his hands. With a motion of his finger, the globe rocketed toward the huge slaad. "Eat this!" he cried as it splashed against the creature’s body, but his expression fell when he saw the attack did little to slow him down.

Gillian tumbled around the new arrival and lashed it with her chain.  Rhys moved toward it and, sidestepping a claw swipe, whomped it heartily with his staff.

Berek blew loudly through his lips, sending his mustache flying about while emitting a rather rude noise. "This is it?" he said skeptically as he stomped towards the summoned slaad. "From the way everyone was actin', I sorta expected 'em to be at least puttin' up a decent fight.”  He smashed the slaad twice with his maul, and the creature reeled, seeing stars.

"Speak for yourself, dwarf," Allanon muttered while backing away from the slaad, nursing her wounds. She slipped one hand down to her belt and pulled out a trusty wand. She tapped herself with it and her skin became hard as stone, protecting her from further physical damage.

Both slaadi's wounds began to heal rapidly before the adventurers’ eyes, though they still bore signs of damage. The normal sized one scored two hits against Rhys with his claws. Xorfilstaarg knew things were not going well.  It was time to call for reinforcements. The enormous slaad bellowed loudly and attacked Grundar. One claw passed through him as he blinked back and forth, but the second claw and the slaad's enormous mouth tore Grundar's flesh quite painfully.
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Flame Lord Durzhul looked up from the papers arrayed at his desk as an enormous bellow echoed through the chamber.  That could mean only one thing: the adventurers had finally arrived.  He looked to the two red slaadi in the room with him and gestured toward the door, then began casting defensive spells on himself.  He wanted to be prepared for the imminent battle.
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Grundar stabbed Xorfilstaarg twice, eliciting bellows of pain and rage from the slaad, coupled with gouts of shifting, multicolored blood.

“I’m sick of you, you slimy, soulless frog,” cried Terenon as he sent a lightning bolt sailing toward the green slaad.  He dodged aside, but his flesh still boiled from the powerful blast.  Gillian and Rhys assaulted the normal slaad with a barrage of attacks, and it disappeared in a flash of light.

Allanon cast a spell and gathered an enormous amount of electrical energy at her fingertips, her whole body tingling with the approaching discharge. She formed the electrical energy into a bolt and angled it at Xorfilstaarg.  Keeping up its trend of dodging lightning bolts, though, the enormous slaad managed to evade much of Allanon's damage as well. As Berek hustled over to attack it, the slaad bit down on the dwarf with enormous crushing power, dealing a tremendous amount of damage. The enraged dwarf flew into a frenzy and bashed the slaad with his maul.

Despite his wounds, Xorfilstaarg pressed on, tearing Berek apart with his teeth and claws.  Though his left arm dangled by a thread, though his rib cage had been virtually torn asunder, though his lungs had since filled up with blood, Berek continued to flail wildly at the slaad with his weapon, grinning with crazed satisfaction at each crunch of metal on bone.  Grundar poked at the slaad with his rapier, tearing open an enormous puncture wound in its gut, causing blood and entrails to spill out on the floor. The beast collapsed to the floor, finally dead. Unfortunately, Berek was still gripped by the throes of his battle frenzy and he lashed out at Grundar; fortunately, Grundar's blinking saved him from the brutal attacks.

“Terenon!” cried Grundar as he tumbled away from the crazed dwarf.  “Freeze Berek!  We need to heal him before he hits one of us!”

“I’ll try to lock the mighty midget down!” replied Terenon as he cast a spell to paralyze the berserker.  

Berek succumbed to Terenon's hold spell and was locked rigid in place. Seeing as he was no longer moving, Rhys laid his healing hands on the dwarf, healing some of the horribly grievous wounds he had taken. The rage in the dwarf's eyes died down as he managed to control the fires of the frenzy inside him.

Unfortunately, the celebration was short-lived. The doors in the western part of the room flew open and a small group of creatures emerged. Two were hulking red slaadi, and the third looked like a rust-skinned dwarf with a scraggly grey beard and glowing red eyes. The durzagon looked at the adventurers before surveying the carnage around the room.

"It is you," Durzhul hissed. "I should have figured you would be resourceful enough to make it this far. I'm afraid I can't let you go any further on your own volition: I'm sure you understand how risky that would be. Terenon will come with me, willingly or not. The rest of you will die, sad to say. No hard feelings, right?"

With that, he began casting a spell and the slaadi surged forward to attack. The dwarf finished his spell and a wall of ice sprung into existence that separated the party, leaving only Berek and Rhys immediately threatening the enemies. With a sudden word and gesture, the durzagon immediately cast another spell and a lightning bolt flew from his outstretched fingers, hitting Berek and Rhys. Rhys managed to avoid most of the blast, but Berek was still paralyzed from Terenon’s spell. His flesh bubbled and boiled, his hair smoldered and crackled, and the poor dwarf dropped to the floor, lifeless.

The two slaadi pounced on the badly hurt Rhys, biting and tearing at him with their claws. They moved preternaturally quickly, and Rhys was hard pressed to deal with their furious assault. Their teeth tore into his flesh, and he succumbed to the damage, joining Berek in the long sleep of death.

Grundar turned off his ring and sank to his knees, bleeding profusely.  “I’m going to need some healing Gill!  Gill?”  Gillian cried in outrage as she heard the dying screams of her comrades on the other side of the wall. She resisted the urge to bash through the wall and take vengeance on them, but she knew that it would be more prudent to help her friends who were still alive first. Tears streaming down her face, she moved over to the elf and laid her hands on his wounds, healing him as best she could.

“We’ve no time to grieve,” Terenon said coldly.  “We don’t have much time before the slaadi break through the wall.  Grundar, hold still; I’m going to make you invisible.”  He cast a quick spell and the elf faded from view.  Allanon reached into her torn robe and drew a potion.  She downed its contents, and instantly her wounds faded from view.

The sounds of croaking and pounding came from the other side of the wall, and after a few seconds a ten-foot square section collapsed. The wall was a little more than a foot thick, and the red slaadi stood directly on the other side of the hole, with Durzhul behind them.  The Flame Lord cast a spell and a shimmering, swordlike plane of force appeared before Gillian. It struck her, leaving a deep wound across her chest.

Grundar downed a healing potion and tumbled forward, stopping right next to the wall, being careful not to step into the chilly hole in the wall. He said, "Gillian, help me cover the hole. Terenon, Allanon, let that dwarf have it!"  Gillian nodded to Grundar, then tumbled up next to the wall and let the slaad on the other side have it with her chain. She whipped it across the thing's chest in a critical strike, drawing a large gout of blood from the slaad.

“I see you,” said Terenon in a singsong fashion as he sent a lightning bolt at the slaadi and the durzagon.  The enemies convulsed as the energy poured through them, and then they shook even more as Allanon followed up a bolt of her own.  Durzhul was ready this time, and he managed to dodge the second blast.  The slaad that Gill had struck dropped to the ground.

Unfortunately, the slaadi’s wounds began to heal and the one on the ground leapt to its feet, emitting a loud, reverberating croak. The noise clouded Grundar's mind, stunning him and making him drop his rapier and wobble unsteadily on his feet. The other slaad slashed through the wall at Gillian, but she dodged and parried the creature's attacks.

The floating sword of force sliced another wound across Gillian’s chest again. Durzhul cast another spell, and a black ray of crackling negative energy shot out and hit Terenon. He felt the energy clawing at his body, surpressing his life force.

"You're simply too powerful in your current state, Terenon; let's see how well you fight in a more weakened position." The durzagon grinned evilly, and his eyes glowed bright red.

"Why won't you frogs stay dead?" shouted Gillian. The halfling gritted her teeth against the pain of the sword wounds, determined to take out the slaadi before they took her out. She lashed out at the slaadi with a flurry of blows. The first two dropped the croaking slaad and tore his throat out, ensuring he would never croak again. The third strike opened a bleeding wound on the other slaad’s shoulder.

Terenon knew they had to hamper Durzhul’s spellcasting.  When he had traveled to Waterdeep, he had purchased a small token for each of the party members.  When activated, the token would turn into an enormous whip that would grapple enemies.  “Use your tokens!” he called as he activated his.  Allanon activated hers as well, and the two whips wrapped around Durzhul, who grunted in surprise.

As the slaad scored a nasty hit across Gillian’s face, Durzhul began chanting the words to a spell.  His hands were bound by the whip, but he had prepared this particular spell to be used even without any gestures.  A small red bead sailed through the wall of ice and detonated on the adventurers.  Gillian and Grundar managed to evade the blast, but Terenon was caught in it and was badly burnt by the roaring flames.

Gillian backed off from the slaad and focused her ki inward.  Her wounds began to close up, though she was still badly hurt.  “If you wizards have any other tricks up your sleeve, now might be the time to use them!” she called.

Allanon obliged and let loose with a chained lightning bolt.  The lightning struck the red slaad and its body burst apart, splattering chunky pieces across the room.  The bolt then arced to Durzhul, though it did not seem to hurt him much.  The floating whips tried to pin the durzagon to the ground, but he chanted a short phrase and disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the wall behind Allanon.

“Take down his magical defenses!” cried Terenon.  Allanon cast a spell and dispelled most of Durzhul’s defensive spells.  Grundar, having since recovered from the slaad’s stunning croak, picked up his rapier and charged Durzhul, stabbing deep into his shoulder.  Gillian followed up with a flick of her chain across the dwarf’s face.

Durzhul staggered back from the melee fighters, badly hurt.  “This isn’t over!” he called.  “You haven’t seen the last of me!”  He muttered a few arcane syllables and disappeared in a flash of light.

Terenon dismissed his spell of flight and sank to the ground, then collapsed on the floor as soon as his feet touched.  As Grundar moved over to help him, the mage gasped, “We need to get out of here before he comes back.”

Allanon reached beneath her torn robes and withdrew a scroll of teleportation.  “Where should we go?” she inquired.  “Back to Silverymoon?”

Terenon shook his head.  “That’s where they’ll be expecting us to go.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they had agents waiting there for us.”  The mage thought for a few moments, then nodded.  

“Baldur’s Gate.”


----------



## Terenon

*Fight for life*

The DM had said that the fights would get progressively harder, and he wasn't lying. Death became a mainstay for the group as we fought deeper and deeper into the dungeon. We would soon see the addition of a new player and new characters. 

The few days spent in Baldurs Gate, were fun, and exciting. We were even able to get a few additional, if not reluctant, allies.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Terenon said:
			
		

> The few days spent in Baldurs Gate, were fun, and exciting. We were even able to get a few additional, if not reluctant, allies.




Not to mention raising the ire of a few new enemies.


----------



## Allanon Harpell

Chaostream said:
			
		

> Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.



Heh.  When did you determine that I had no fashion sense to begin with.  I'm a sorceror with 24 cha(with items) and in my character description I am wearing dark blue robes with silver trim and a flowing cloak similiarly colored.  I'd call that a bit more fashion sensitive than Terenon's nondescript brown robes


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## Chaostream

Haha, ok, I give. But this was the first time I saw it in game 

Just wow on chapter 11. Blood, battle, and death. I was definitely not expecting two of the characters to die so suddenly.

That was a cool fight scene


----------



## Terenon

*Fashion Sense*

Browns the only color that doesn't make my ass look big


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 12

The High Conflagration sat behind his desk, Degradzel seated opposite him. A hulking troll in chainmail stood behind the High Conflagration, his arms crossed across his massive chest. Their eyes were on Durzhul, bruised and bloodied, as he paced about the room. The durzagon's eyes glowed red as he gave his report.

"That thrice-damned mage! By the Abyss, that man is crafty! Xorfilstaarg is dead. The blues and reds are all dead. Though I managed to take out two of their number, I barely escaped intact, and now we are all that are left! Save for a few whelps seeking out the last mage, we are all that remains of the cult!"

Degradzel turned to the bald man, fear and anger in her eyes. "This is all Thornridge's fault! He sent them here on purpose! I bet he's a double agent, working for Acessiwal or some other--"

"That is enough!" roared the High Conflagration, nearly leaping out of his chair. Both Durzhul and Degradzel shrank before their master's awesome wrath. "I don't want to hear another word of complaint from either of you! The cult is not doomed. We remain alive. The scepter of the ar-magus is in our possession. There is still a chance the Firebringer may be freed. I have just received a sending spell from Yarrick Zan."

Durzhul gasped at the mention of the name. "Yarrick Zan?" he asked. His voice was little more than a frightful whisper, as if even saying the name might have brought doom upon him. "He actually exists? I had heard stories, but I never thought they were true."

"He does exist, or she does, for all I know. The forms Zan takes are always just a disguise: nobody knows his true nature. But we were able to make contact with him and hire his services. Even as we speak, he closes in on a mage who will be a suitable candidate for the ritual. We merely need to hold out for a few more days until Zan delivers him to us. Then, he, Durzhul, and that wretch Philosten will conduct the Rite of Unbinding, and everything we have worked for these past months will finally come to fruition. The Firebringer will walk Faerun once more, with us as his allies, and woe to anybody who dares stand before us!"

"As for Thornridge, he will be getting a visit from Zan once this business is complete. A very brief visit."

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

With a flash of light, the battered forms of Allanon, Gillian, Grundar, and Terenon appeared outside of Baldur's Gate.  Their clothing was torn and burnt from the battle with Durzhul and the slaadi, and vicious scars and bruises adorned their bodies.  At least they had managed to survive; the bodies of Berek and Rhys laid within Grundar's portable hole.  Solemnly, they made their way through the crowded streets of the city, ignoring the stares they got from the townsfolk they passed.

Terenon's breath came in ragged gasps, his skin pale and stretched across his face, his eyes sunken and hollow.  Durzhul's enervation ray had taken its toll on the mage, and it would be a few hours before the effects wore off.  He leaned heavily on Grundar as they walked, his knees threatening to buckle with each step.  They were almost at the Temple of Torm, and the mage knew that relief was only a short distance away.  To distract himself from the pain in his body, he concentrated on an image that had been on his mind for the past few days: an image of the aasimar sorceress, Serrila Destare.  Despite having only spoken to her for a short period of time, Serrila had left an indelible mark on the mage’s mind, and he found himself thinking of her quite frequently during the slow periods of the journey.  Her face hovered before his mind’s eye, and he could have sworn he heard her voice in his head.  _Safe in Silverymoon,_ she seemed to say.

Terenon blinked in astonishment.  He was not imagining things: that _was_ Serrila’s voice!  As he listened, the words continued to form in his mind.  _Thornridge is not what he seems.  I’ll tell you more on our next meeting.  How goes the battle?  Good luck!  Serrila._  It took Terenon a few moments to realize that the sorceress had contacted him via a magical sending spell, and it was now his turn to reply.  Forming the words in his mind, he sent a response back to Serrila: _In Baldur’s Gate.  We’ve suffered losses.  We’ll meet you tomorrow morning outside Silverymoon’s south gate.  Be careful: Acolyte spies may be about town.  Stay safe._

Grundar paused and cast Terenon a worried glance.  The mage had suddenly stopped in his tread and had a faraway look in his eyes.  “Are you alright?” the duelist asked.  “What is it?”

Terenon smiled at his friend.  “A plan,” he replied.  “I’ll tell you more later.  For now, let’s get to the temple.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rhys Thurn stood among a throng of petitioners, souls of the recently dead yet to be claimed by their patron deities.  A flat, featureless plane of endless white stretched off in all directions to the limit of his vision, almost completely filled by the horde of the milling souls.  Though he knew he was dead, Rhys was not frightened; he had spent his life in devotion to Torm, and he was confident that his god from come soon to take him to a better place.  Meanwhile, the priest drank in the details of his surroundings, awed by the life that followed death.

The aasimar was distracted from the contemplation of his surroundings by a faint buzzing at the back of head.  At first he tried to ignore it, but the buzzing grew in volume and intensity.  Soon, he could make out words against the background noise: somebody was calling his name!  Rhys strained to listen, and he heard the resonant voice of a High Priest of Torm calling his soul to return to Toril.  Rhys was strangely saddened to leave this place before he reached his lord’s realm, but he knew that he would lose all memory of the experience when he returned to his mortal body anyway.  “My duty is not yet complete,” he told himself as his soul began to ascend back to his body.

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

Rhys awoke with a start, cold sweat plastering his features.  It took him a few moments to realize that he was in the chapel of a temple dedicated to Torm.  He lay naked on a cold slab with a blanket draped across his body.  A smiling priest hovered over him.

“Welcome back, my son,” the priest said.  “You certainly took your time to return; we were uncertain whether or not you actually wanted to come back.”

“Where am I?” asked Rhys.

“Baldur’s Gate.  Your friends brought you and the dwarf here to be raised.  You must have been in quite a battle judging by the nasty wounds that adorned your body.”

“Berek!” said Rhys, suddenly remembering seeing the valiant dwarf fall shortly before he did.  Twisting on the pallet, he saw the body of the berserker lying a few feet away from him, completely covered by a sheet.  The body was completely still.

"I am sorry, but the dwarf's soul refused to be brought back. All his life he dreamed of death in glorious battle, and he felt he had achieved that. There is nothing we can do if the soul is unwilling to return."

Rhys stared at Berek’s corpse, his face grim.  Though the dwarf had been a wild card and might have accidentally killed them all when gripped by a battle frenzy, he had always been a staunch ally and a valuable asset to the group.  His loss would be a hard one to take.

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

The happiness that surrounded Rhys’ return to the group was tempered by a sense of regret at the loss of Berek.  Allanon seemed particularly saddened by Berek’s death, and remained sullen and morose throughout the day.  Laden with mixed emotions, the group headed about the city, attending to various errands that needed to be taken care of. It was early evening when they finished their tasks and, upon Grundar’s suggestion, decided to retire to the Elfsong tavern for the night, hoping to hear the tavern's ghostly resident's legendary haunting melody.  They sat themselves at a table in the corner.

“So Terenon,” asked Grundar, “what’s this plan of yours?”

"Earlier today,” began the mage, “I received a message from Serrila Destare. I decided to keep it to myself until I was fairly certain that we weren’t being followed or scryed upon. If you remember, I asked her to keep an eye on Thornridge. She has dug up some information on him. Tomorrow in the morning we will make a detour to see and get the report from her. Depending on what she says, we may or may not confront him." 

“Ah, I had forgotten about that duplicitous merchant,” said Allanon.  The wild mage’s gaze suddenly turned distant and she added softly, “Deirdriel…now that I think about it, I have some business to take care of in Silverymoon as well.”

"Fine, we can take care of it when we get there,” said Terenon.  “Now, from the conversation I had with the green slaad before he broke my charm, I have deduced a few things. The red-eyed dwarf is named Flame Lord Durzhul. His boss is the High Conflagration. I'm not sure who that is, but we do have a card up our sleeve. I would bet money that Flame Lord Durzhul has protected himself from scrying, but Moskogg’s secretary is another story. I believe she is the key for a surprise attack. Scrying on her will give us a location to teleport into and kill everything we see.”

The discussion was interrupted by a beautiful voice singing in Elven. The song was hauntingly beautiful, and the tavern fell silent as all the patrons were overcome by its power. The party listened, transfixed, as music filled their souls with powerful feelings of sadness and longing. As suddenly as it started up, though, the song ended a few minutes later. There was a brief moment of silence, then activity in the tavern resumed.

Grundar inclined his head, tears flowing freely down his face.  “It was…more beautiful than I had thought possible.”

Allanon was about to comment when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  Turning to look, she saw a scrawny man standing over her, shaking unsteadily on his feet. His clothes and hair were unkempt and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"Beautiful song, isn't it?" he asked, tongue thick with inebriation. "Almost as beautiful as ye are, purty lady. The name's Vortimer; may I have the pleasure of yer company this evening?" He leered drunkenly at the sorceress.

Allanon gaped at the man, her mouth open.  Up until a few days ago, she had been a man, and as such had no experience in dealing with lechers like this Vortimer.  She wondered how to let him down easily without hurting his feelings.  Her thoughts were interrupted by Terenon’s voice saying, “She’s my woman.  If you don’t leave now, I will disintegrate you where you stand.”

The drunk reeled backward on his feet, nearly losing his balance as he scurried away from the table.  Rhys chuckled heartily as Allanon whirled on Terenon, fire burning in her eyes.

“[i[Your[/i] woman?” she asked incredulously.  “I beg your pardon, sir.”

Terenon merely shrugged, smiling thinly.  “I believed that it would be the most expedient way to deal with the situation.  No harm, no foul, my lady.”

Crossing her arms across her chest, Allanon settled back in a huff.  “As soon as we get back to Silverymoon, I’m getting my manhood back,” she muttered.

Gillian had been quiet for a while, but now she decided to speak up.  "I'm afraid that once we get back to Silverymoon, I'm going to have to leave the group. There is no telling how far the Acolytes' influence has spread. I must return to my people to prepare them for the worst if you should fail in your quest, and to enlist aid for our cause if it is needed. I am sorry I cannot venture with you further, but our paths are not the same from here on out. I hope you can understand."

The others were shocked by the halfling’s announcement.  "If you are sure you must leave, we cannot stop you,” said Terenon. “I am saddened by your decision. Your prowess in battle will be hard to replace."

“Yes, it has been quite an adventure we have shared,” added Grundar.  “However, our strength is now even less than before.  Perhaps we should look into finding new members to accompany us back to the Dungeon.”

“You are right, of course,” said Terenon. “I don’t believe we can just advertise a job opening though. Trusting an unknown with what we are facing is ill-advised. Who knows if a stranger that accepts the offer is not an agent of the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame?" Turning to Rhys, the mage said, "Perhaps the temple of Torm has a few reputable fighters it could suggest. Maybe Serrila knows of someone who can join with us, too."

Rhys simply shrugged.  “It won’t hurt to try, I suppose.  We should check into it in the morning.”

“I’ll keep watch tonight after my Reverie,” said Grundar.  “It would be best to be cautious.”

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

Sitting in a chair in the tavern’s hallway, Grundar watched through a window as the sun slowly creeped its way up from beyond the eastern horizon.  The others still slumbered in their beds, recuperating from the vicious fight of the previous day.  The elf’s ears perked up as heavy footsteps began to sound on the stairs.  He silently got to his feet and put his hand to his rapier in case it was trouble.  Several uncouth voices floated up the staircase to the hall.

"I'm telling ya, this is the floor where that purty lady is staying. That uppity mage is probably with her, too."

"Now, you sure this guy won't make good on his threat? I hear tell of powerful mages and what they can do! I don't want to be turned into no newt or nothing."

"Relax, we just sneak in there and brain the guy so he don't wake up, then we take the girl. What could go wrong?"

Four men reached the top of the staircase, taken aback by Grundar's presence. They all were the thuggish type: greasy, unkempt, and probably still a bit drunk from the previous night. They sized up the elf a bit before turning to one man nervously. This man was apparently their leader, the same drunk guy who had accosted Allanon the previous night.

“Good morning gentlemen!” called Grundar, his hand still on the hilt of his rapier.  “Looking for somebody?”

The man, Vortimer, grinned broadly, revealing crooked yellow teeth.  "We don't mean no harm, elf, we just came for a little bit o' fun with yer wench. I suggest ye stand aside: we've got ye outnumbered, by my count."

Grundar smiled mirthlessly.  "Well, my ‘wench’ happens to be a powerful sorceress in her own right. I doubt you'd have any fun with ‘her’ unless you'd like to have parts of your anatomy burnt off. Now, it seems to me you still have a little drink left in you, so I would suggest that you guys head on back to where you came from and sleep it off."

Vortimer frowned in consternation. He seemed to be deep in thought (a rare experience judging by the look on his face); finally he looked back at Grundar. "Alright, elf, no need to be rude. We don't want to start nothing with ye. We'll be on our way; no hard feelings, right?" With that, the men stumbled off down the stairs and out of sight.

As they left, Grundar heard a door creaking open behind him.  Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw Allanon peeking out from her room, clad only in a thin nightgown that hugged her lithe form and brandishing her quarterstaff.  “What was that about?” she asked.

“Well, Allanon, you seem to have made quite an impression on the local folk.  Given that outfit you’re wearing, I can’t rightly blame them,” the elf said, chuckling.

Allanon frowned angrily.  “Just shut up,” she said, slamming the door.

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

The group made their preparations for the day ahead and, after a hearty breakfast of sausages and gravy, they left the Elfsong tavern and began to make their way to the Temple of Torm to see if they could recruit another adventurer to their cause. The crowds began to thicken as they made their way through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. As they navigated the busy street, Terenon was nearly bowled over by a teenage girl covered in dirt and wearing the clothes of a beggar. The nondescript girl looked nervously to and fro as she scrambled to her feet. Exhausted and frightened, she blurted out, "Help...please. He's chasing me...wants to kill me..."

Terenon felt his initial irritation give way to sympathy as he sensed the girl’s fright.  “Calm yourself child. No harm will come to you in our presence. What is the matter?"

The girl saw the sympathy in Terenon's eyes and forced herself to calm down. "My name's Lisa. There's a man chasing me. A man with a big club. He broke into the room where I was staying and has been following me around the streets for hours. I don't know what he wants! I don't know why he's chasing me! You've got to help me!" She looked at the mage with pleading eyes.

Nodding, Terenon began to scan the crowded streets for anybody suspicious-looking.  “What does this man look like child?” he asked.

“There he is!” said Lisa, pointing to a middle-aged man in merchant’s clothing who had just appeared from around a storefront.  He was portly, handsome, and appeared to have no gear other than a fancy mace strapped to his side.  Seeing Lisa, he pointed his finger at the young beggar girl.

"You there! Young lady!" said the man. "Come here. Step away from those people. I must speak to you!" The man cast a stern look toward the girl and grimaced. "Come now, I tire of this game!" he said impatiently, gesturing for Lisa to approach him. "I won't hurt you!"

Before the group could react, a burly voice shouted from behind. "You there! Halt!" A captain of the Flaming Fist, the mercenary company that guarded and patroled Baldur's Gate, stood behind them, brandishing a large polearm. Four other guards stood behind him. "Stay away from that man, Lisa," the captain said. "He's dangerous."  The captain of the watch then pointed at the adventurers. "You people! Help me apprehend that scoundrel now, and the city has a 10,000 gold piece reward for you!"

“It would be my pleasure,” said Terenon, casting a spell intended to freeze the merchant in his tracks.  The spell did not work, though, and man began to move toward them, snarling, “You foolish, plane-bound idiots!”

The guard captain shouted out, "Men, aid these people and attack that fat merchant." The guards hustle up through the adventurers’ midst and readied their halberds. The merchant drew his mace and moved quite quickly at one of the guards, who slashed at him with his halberd as he approached. The merchant dodged the attack easily and bashed the guard with the hilt of his mace in a powerful blow that dropped the man to the ground, unconscious. The remaining guards regarded the merchant nervously.

The guard captain moved over to Lisa. "Come along, Lisa," he said. The girl shied away from him though, a look of confusion on her face.

“I don’t know who to attack,” whispered Gillian.  “I can detect no evil auras.”

Allanon cast a spell at the merchant, trying to dispel any enchantments he had up, but there were no obvious results.  Grundar stepped in the merchant’s path, drawing his rapier.  “What do you want with the girl?” he asked.

"There is no time for these childish shenanigans,” the merchant replied. “You have no idea what's at stake here. Bring the girl and come with me before someone gets hurt!"

Rhys began to send a blast of searing light at the merchant, but Grundar grabbed his hand to stop the spell before he could finish.  “Wait! I don't think he intends to hurt Lisa! Didn't you see him use the hilt of his mace on that guard? Something doesn't look right here."

The guard captain made a grab for Lisa, but she hopped back. "How do you know my name?" she asked. "I've never met you before in my life!"

The guard captain growled with anger. "Give me what is mine!" The captain's form then began to shift, blossoming outward into a massive creature. Its form stabilized into a tall, bipedal mantis-like creature with clawed hands and feet, powerful mandibles, and a long, thick tail covered in razor-sharp spikes. Terenon and Lisa felt a wave of fear flood their minds: Terenon resisted it, but Lisa screamed and cowered before the monstrosity. The creature jabbed at her with its massive spear, but she fell over in fright just in time and the spear passed harmlessly over her head.

The crowd around the group screamed in horror at the bug-like creature. They began fleeing in terror, along with the three guards who remained standing. The merchant yelled, "Don't just stand there, fools! He's going to kill her!"

“Grab on to me!” Terenon cried to Lisa, but she remained on the ground, quivering with fright.  Acting quickly, he wrapped his arm around the girl and cast a spell, instantly transporting them both to a far away rooftop. The merchant moved to Grundar and Rhys' side, his form changing as he went. By the time he was next to them, he had changed into a beautiful, extremely tall man with long, feathery wings and a very supple and lithe body that glowed with an inner power that made it hard to look directly at him. He readied his mace against the foul creature.

“An angel,” breathed Rhys.  In all his years of service to Torm, he had never seen such a beautiful creature as the one that now stood beside him.  He breathed a prayer as he turned to face the insectoid creature, bolstered by the presence of this celestial ally.  Unfortunately, the thing had teleported away and currently stood a scant few feet from Terenon.  “Give me the girl!” it shrieked as Lisa whimpered and cowered behind the mage.

“Terenon’s up there alone!  Do something!” shouted Grundar.

Allanon frowned, knowing that the mage would not last long by himself.  She looked over to the others and nodded.  “Everyone grab hold of me.  I’ll take us over there.”  Gillian, Grundar, and Rhys quickly grabbed hold, but the angel hesitated.  “You can trust us,” said Allanon, and finally the celestial being consented.  With a flash, they appeared behind the creature, which Allanon recognized as an ice devil.

The devil raised its spear to strike at Terenon, but the mage hastily cast a spell and erected a hemispherical wall of force around him and Lisa.  The weapon was shunted off the invisible force field, and Terenon flipped the creature a rude gesture as it shrieked in rage.

“Give it up, Felespar. I will not allow you to take the gem," the deva intoned, brandishing its mace.

"I will not be so easily deterred!" the devil roared. It held out its hands and a cone of intense cold blasted out at the group. Grundar and Gillian evaded the blast of cold and the angel seemed unaffected. Rhys took the edge of the blast, though, and Allanon took it full on, the cold numbing their lifeblood and shards of ice tearing at their flesh.

Grundar tumbled up to the devil and stabbed out with his rapier, but the creature’s hide was too thick and it merely shunted the blade aside.  Gillian rolled around the things legs and came up, calling upon Yondalla’s holy power to smite the devil with her chain.  The weapon left a glowing scar across its chest, and the devil howled in pain.  The deva charged in, taking the devil’s spear in its side, and bashed it across the face with his mace.

Allanon almost passed out from the pain caused by the barrage of ice cold air and shrapnel.  With what little feeling was left in her arms, she cast a quick spell and began floating into the air, away from the devil.

“By Torm’s might, send this creature back to the hell from which it was spawned!” cried Rhys, holding his holy symbol aloft.  The devil felt a tugging sensation as the magic took effect, but he resisted the banishment with a great effort of will.  Snarling, it lashed out at its assailants with teeth, spear, and tail.  Gillian took several blows, and a nasty wound in her shoulder and side opened, staining her shirt red.

Terenon cradled the terrified Lisa close to him, watching through the wall of force as his companions battled the ice devil.  It seems that his friends were having a tough time with it; Grundar and Gillian were having trouble getting past its thick natural armor, and Allanon and Rhys’ spells simply sputtered against the thing’s magic resistance.  Even the angel was having a tough time landing a solid hit with its mace.  The devil lashed out again, striking Gillian in the chest with his spear, and now the halfling’s entire shirt was stained with blood as she struggled to keep on fighting.

Then the tide turned.  Grundar focused his full efforts into his attack, finally managing to pierce the devil's thick hide. The rapier slid in deep, and while some of the damage was negated by its fiendish nature, the elf managed to hit a vital organ that drew a great cry of pain from the devil. Seizing the advantage, Gill delivered two quick slashes to its back that scored its hide with holy energy. The deva scored a good hit with his mace, too, crushing the devil's arm with the holy weapon.

Allanon blasted the beast with a powerful gout of chain lightning. Not expecting the attack to bypass its resistance, the devil made only a half-hearted attempt to dodge it. The lightning bolt caught the devil square in the chest, and the beast convulsed as the electricity coursed through its body. The devil shrieked in rage in pain, leaning heavily on its spear. "You win this round, celestial! The baatezu will not be spurned so easily though!" With a flash of light, the creature disappeared.

The angel reattached his mace to his belt, rubbing the spear wound in his shoulder. His hand began to glow, and in a few seconds the wound disappeared. "Trust it to mortals to believe the devil, just because he takes on the form of an authority figure." The angel turned to Terenon and Lisa, a stern expression on his face. "Now then, come out from behind that wall and let us have a discussion like civilized people."


----------



## Grundar

*action*

This was one hell of a fight. It was a surprise because we didn't really expect Durzhul and his red slaadi to come out the side door. None of us really knew that they were just nearby. We let down our defenses right after the battle and paid for it dearly. We debated hotly OOC whether to retreat and come back again, or fight it till the end. We stayed after all and kicked butt, although that was not the last we'll see of Durzhul.


----------



## Gramcrackered

Berek was fun, but I could tell pretty early on that things weren't going to pan out, what with him having about as much understanding of tactics as a three-year-old.  The fact that a large part of his background included him WANTING to die pretty much just sealed the deal.


----------



## Terenon

*Send me an Angel*

What follows is a conversation with the angel. It was some of the best fun talking to an NPC I've had.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Preview for Chapter 13:

The reason behind Heaven and Hell's interest in young Lisa is revealed.

Two new members join the party (one of whom we've already met before).

Merik Thornridge is not what he seems.

And Allanon visits his (her) girlfriend.

Stay tuned!  The next chapter will either be up tonight or tomorrow!


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 13

After the ice devil fled, Allanon floated slowly down to the rooftop, dismissing her spell of flying. As her legs again took on her weight they started to buckle and she swayed precariously. Her arms and legs were numb with the deadly cold and she could barely control them. She would have fallen but Rhys hurried to catch her.  “Thanks,” she said, smiling up at the aasimar.

Rhys set to work healing Allanon’s and Gillian’s nasty wounds.  Once they were taken care of, he turned to the astral deva that stood before them.  Lisa seemed to have mastered her fright once the object of her terror had left, and she leaned against Terenon as the celestial being regarded them coolly.  “Wise one,” said Rhys, “I am sorry that we allowed the devil to deceive us.  If we had paid more attention, we might have noticed his falsehoods: no militia member would offer such an extravagant reward.  We failed in our understanding of the situation, but in the end, we did the right thing.”

The angel shifted his gaze to the priest.  "I thought the signs were quite obvious that the militia captain was not what he seemed, and that I had only good intentions for the girl. That is why I took on the form of a merchant; I assumed it would not be very threatening. I only asked to speak with the girl when she caught fright and leaped out the flophouse window." Lisa blushed sheepishly. "While the right thing was done in the end,” continued the angel, “the results could have very well been disastrous. Two of your companions were brought to the brink of death, and if the gelugon had been able to lay hands on the gem, naught but catastrophe would have followed."

At the mention of the gem, Lisa's eyes widened slightly. She reached into her trousers and found the hidden pocket there, retrieving from it a black onyx about the size of a walnut. The gem seemed to glow with an inner power. "All of this commotion is over this little trinket? I know it’s valuable, but I didn't think it would be reason enough for Heaven and Hell to come after me!"

The angel eyed the gem cautiously, his wings folding around his body as if to perform a protective barrier. "That 'trinket' you carry is a vile artifact named the Eye of Night's Embrace. The man you stole it from was no mere merchant: he is a powerful wizard named Helios who has held the gem for quite some time. He had cast various spells about his person to prevent any celestial or infernal beings from detecting it, but once you pilfered it, my master Raziel became aware of its location. He entrusted me to track it down and secure it before the forces of Hell could claim it for themselves. The Eye must not fall into the hands of evil. The best course of action would be to hand the gem over to me, so that I may return to the Seven Mounting Heavens and secret it away where the fiends will never find it. I know you mortals have some use of gold as currency, so I have been authorized to give you five thousand gold pieces for the gem."

Lisa’s eyes widened even further.  “Five thousand gold pieces!  That’s more money than I’ve ever seen in my life!  Let’s give him the gem,” she said to Terenon.  “I certainly don’t want it if more of those bug-guys are going to show up and try to kill me.”

Terenon was not as impressed with the deva’s offer, nor with his arrogant demeanor.  “The only knowledge we had was a merchant was after a young girl who asked for protection. You speak to us condescendingly, as if this was our fault. It was your deceptive behavior that caused this. We will give you the gem, but only if you provide a service for us in return. A time is approaching when forces of evil, the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame, will release The Firebringer from his well-deserved prison. If this happens, a reign of death and destruction will pour like a river over this land. Your aid may help tip the scales. Take the gem. Return it to your superiors. As payment, you must promise to return and aid in our fight."

The deva's eyes flared with anger at Terenon's words. "Impudent mortal! You deal with forces beyond your ken! I was given leave to retrieve the gem by any means necessary, and normally I would not bandy words with you in such a fashion. But this is too important a task; I will not leave without the Eye, and I wish to avoid further bloodshed. You have done nothing wrong. Very well. It would appear we have a deal. As Raziel as my witness, I hereby swear this sacred oath: when the time comes to battle these Acolytes, I will fight by your side. My name is Ganamemnon. Call my name and I will arrive. Once the enemy is defeated, I will return to Celestia and my oath will be fulfilled. Now give the gem to me," the angel finished.

Terenon turned to Lisa to retrieve the gem, giving her a subtle wink.  He hoped that she had learned something from this encounter: how best to manipulate a situation to achieve a goal.  He tossed the gem to Ganamemnon, who caught it easily and quickly stowed it in a pouch.  The angel then tossed another sack to the roof, clinking with the sound of coins. “Here is the promised payment; I have no use for it. A word of caution before I go, Lisa: you have earned the enmity of powerful beings today. When Helios learns that you were the one who took the Eye from him, there is no doubt that he will try to exact vengeance upon you. The devils may also seek restitution for denying them their prize, though they have many other concerns to deal with. Do not let your guard down.” The angel regarded the party one final time. "Well then, mortals, it seems our business is concluded for now." With a flash of light, the angel disappeared.

Grundar looked over to Lisa, who had grown pale in the face of Ganamemnon’s dire warnings.  “Lisa, I’m sure you’ll remember this day for a long time,” he said.

“You can say that again,” the girl replied. “They don't call me Lisa "Bad Luck" LaBurton for nothing. Looks like I bit off more than I could chew when I swiped that gem. You'd think a wizard would be more careful with a thing like that."  She looked at the adventuers, trying to hide the fear in her eyes. "What's going to happen now? I mean, you can't just leave me here in good conscience, right? Baldur's Gate isn't safe for me any more; not that it was before, but it's definitely even more dangerous now. Could...could I come with you? I won't be a bother, I promise! I'll stay out of trouble from now on! I won't steal anything from any more wizards! You've got to take me with you! Please?"

Allanon thought for a moment, then put a comforting arm around Lisa.  "Lisa, in a little while, we will be leaving for the town of Silverymoon. There, I have to visit a close friend of mine, a powerful wizard, for some important business. Afterwards, she might be willing to grant you her protection on my word if you would like to stay in Silverymoon. A devil would be hard pressed to defeat her, if it could even evade the notice of the other powerful figures in the city."

“That’s an excellent idea,” said Terenon, smiling.  “Hopefully your friend can make sure she stays out of trouble.  On second thought, I think she would make a wonderful wild mage,” he said, poking playfully at the sorceress with his elbow.

"Silverymoon?" asked Lisa, a smile quickly spreading on her face. "I've never been to Silverymoon before, but I've heard stories about it. Hell, I've never even been out of Baldur's Gate before. This is great! Lisa LaBurton: legendary adventurer!"  She giggled at her own joke, then moves over and embraces Allanon. "Thank you so much! You won't regret this! You've given me a chance to make something of my life instead of living out my remaining days as a crummy beggar."

“Don’t mention it,” said Allanon uncomfortably, disturbed by the strange sensations that passed through her womanly body with Lisa pressed so close against it.

Rhys frowned thoughtfully, reflecting on the situation. “Lisa, why did you steal the gem from Helios? If he had placed spells of protection on it, so as to make it difficult to find, I don’t believe that he’d have it out in the open."

"Why'd I steal it? I didn't even know he had it, not to mention who he was. All I saw was what looked like an inattentive man: an easy mark. It was easy enough to lift his purse and slip away unnoticed. As to why he was keeping the gem in the purse, I don't know. Maybe he was just arrogant: wizards are supposed to be arrogant, right? Oh, present company excluded of course," she added, blushing

“Perhaps the mage purposefully left the gem out to be stolen,” said Terenon.  “It is a mystery for another time, though.  We are behind on our timetable.  Let’s head to the temple.  Daylight burns.”

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Light as a feather on the breeze, Jelani Sandulf floated through the air above Baldur’s Gate.  The wind gently caressed his face as he drifted lazily, as if welcoming a favored son back home.  Clad in worn traveling clothes of brown and grey and a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a peacock’s feather, Jelani was not a very imposing sight: however, the keen intelligence sparkling in his eyes and the holy symbol of Akadi, mistress of winds, about his neck hinted at his true power.

From his vantage point in the sky, he had watched the battle with the ice devil and the subsequent conversation with the astral deva.  He did not linger at the site long, however, as a gust of wind picked up and carried him away from the scene, over the rooftops of the buildings, over the bustling city below, all the way across town to the Temple District.  He gently lowered himself to the ground, finding himself standing outside the entrance to the Temple of Torm.  Jelani smiled thinly and nodded.  Akadi had made his path clear to him.

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“Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t exactly look like a fierce warrior,” said Grundar, casting an appraising look at Jelani.  The adventurers had gone to the Temple of Torm to recruit a new member to their group, but were surprised when they found this man outside who had asked to join with them.

“There are more ways to wage war than blades, my elven friend,” said Jelani.  “I have dedicated my life to the combination of arcane and divine magic, and I am equally proficient with the use of each.  You will find me a valuable asset to your cause.”

Terenon frowned, suspicious of this strange man.  “And how did you know we were on our way here looking for aid?”

Jelani smiled from beneath his wide-brimmed hat.  “I go where the winds take me.  Akadi has seen it fit that I lend you my aid on your quest, and I trust her judgment.  She has not steered me wrong before.”

“I do not detect the taint of evil on this man,” Gillian said thoughtfully.  “He seems to be telling the truth, strange as it may be.  I do not believe the Acolytes sent him.  I believe humans have an expression about looking a gift horse in the mouth?”

“He seems nice enough,” said Lisa jovially.  “We should trust him!”

Terenon sighed. “Very well, Jelani, you may come with us.  Don’t try anything funny though.”

Lisa frowned in thought for a few moments, then tentatively spoke up.  “Um…we’re going to Silverymoon right?  Isn’t it really far away?  It would probably take us a few weeks to get there by walking.”

“We’re not walking,” said Terenon simply.  “Gillian, Rhys, you two ride in the portable hole.  Once you’re secured, I’ll teleport us to Silverymoon.”

Grundar pulled out a folded black cloth circle and laid it out on the ground.  Lisa was quite surprised as Gill and Rhys hopped inside and Grundar picked the circle back up.  Before she could say anything, though, Terenon took her by the hand and spoke a few strange words, and suddenly they were gone.

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Serrila turned to Rumar as several figures appeared in a flash of light further down the road outside of Silverymoon.  Her silver hair sparkled in the morning sun, and her new white robe hugged her figure tightly.  “That must be them,” she said.  “Let’s go greet them.”  Silently, Rumar nodded and followed along behind her.

By the time the two aasimar reached the group, Gill and Rhys had clambered back out of the portable hole.  It seemed the party had picked up some new members in Baldur’s Gate: an intense man with a wide-brimmed hat, and a young girl with a wide-eyed expression on her face.  Serrila smiled radiantly as she approached, and Terenon greeted her with a smile and a wave.  She briefly embraced the mage, who returned the hug with much affection.  “I knew there was a beautiful woman behind all that dirt,” he said, and Serrila turned away to hide her blush before addressing the group.  

"It is good to see you all again. It seems you have picked up a few stragglers along the way." She gestured at the heavily armored man behind her. "May I introduce my brother, Rumar Destare. He has expressed interest in joining with you on your quest."

Rumar bowed slowly, metal creaking as he did so. "Greetings. It is a great honor to meet those who have saved Serrila, for, though your meeting was short and your circumstances ill, she believes you to be quite capable. Thusly, so do I." The paladin delivered his entire greeting while bent over, resuming his earlier stiff position only once he had finished.

Terenon extended a hand to the iron-clad aasimar, who firmly clasped it.  “If you have half the courage and heart of your sister, then that would make you one of the finest knights in the land. It is good to meet you,” the mage said. The mage returned his gaze to Serrila and the smile faded from his face. "Allanon..." He pointed to the sorceress, and then saw the quizzical look on Serrila's face. He shook his head and continued. "...I'll explain everything when we have more time. First we need a place to talk free from prying eyes and listening ears. Allanon will take the girl, Lisa, who we have picked up, to a friend of his...hers for safe keeping.”

"I'm afraid this is where I am going to have to part ways," said Gillian softly. "I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your quest and sincerely hope you all remain well. It has been an honor fighting alongside you." The halfling bowed low, then turned and began walking away.  The party watched her go sadly, then Serrila cleared her throat.

“I know of a place we can speak that should be safe.  Come with me.”

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Serrila led the party through Silverymoon to a large building with the holy symbol of Mystra prominently displayed on the doors. She told them that it was the arcane guild of Silverymoon, and that it was heavily warded against divination spells. After speaking with the clerk and waiting a few minutes, the group was ushered into a private room with plush chairs, a low wooden table, and several goblets of water.

"I managed to uncover some interesting information about that Merik Thornridge fellow," Serrila began. "Very interesting indeed. The Thornridge who hired you is not Thornridge at all. He is actually a simulacrum, a quasi-real duplicate made of shadowstuff and ice. The real Thornridge went missing several months ago, but this duplicate showed up a few days later so nobody really questioned his disappearance. I haven't directly confronted the simulacrum, so I don't know who it is working for. But it is certain that somebody is controlling it."

Terenon eyes widened a bit, impressed by the woman’s resourcefulness.  “How did you discover this?”

"Whoever replaced Thornridge did a pretty good job of covering it up, but it was relatively simple for somebody determined to uncover the truth to do so. Most of the ploy involved avoiding raising any suspicion so as not to get more powerful individuals interested in the disappearance. First, I cast a few divination spells to try to find some clues as to what was going on. The spells indicated that there was more to Thornridge than met the eye. Using the funds you gave me and some funds of my own, I purchased a scroll of true seeing and arranged a meeting with him, during which the spell revealed to me his true nature. After that, it was a simple matter of spreading some coin around and loosening a few tongues to learn about the merchant's brief disappearance a while back, and all the pieces seemed to fit together."

Terenon nodded approvingly at the sorceress. "I have the name of the mage who probably created the impostor: Durzhul, a particularly nasty red eyed dwarf who killed both Berek and Rhys. Fortunately we were able to raise Rhys with the blessing of Torm. I don't think we need to confront the simulacrum, and interrogating him would prove dangerous to our secrecy. I think its time we took the fight back to the Acolytes. We shall scry on Degradzel and teleport in.”

“I am more than ready to deliver justice to these cretins for what they have done to my sister,” Rumar proclaimed. “These evil cultists will get what they deserve.”

Allanon cleared her throat. “Terenon, you'll need to hold off on that scrying spell for a little while. I need to visit my friend, Deirdriel Elethneril, and see what she can do for Lisa. I also need to see if she can change me back to my true form.”

Smirking, Terenon replied, “Of course. I would ask to come with you, though; I’d love to meet your friend.” _Not to mention see her reaction,_ he added silently.

“Very well,” said Allanon. “Serrila, do you know if Deirdriel is visiting the guild today?"

“I think she’s studying in one of the private rooms,” replied Serrila.

“Thanks.  The rest of you wait here.  We’ll be back soon.”

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With Terenon and Lisa in tow, Al traversed through the halls of the guild, climbing up some stairs to the second floor before reaching the room where his half-elf friend was studying. Allanon knocked lightly on the door, and a few moments later it swung open. Beyond it stood Deirdriel Elethrenil, a tall half-elven woman with long strawberry blonde hair and deep green eyes. Her form was slim and graceful, and she moved with a quiet confidence. Deirdriel looked at Allanon, Terenon, and Lisa quizzically, then asked in a light, honeyed voice, "May I help you?"

"Hey Deir....," Allanon said before pausing in thought for a moment. The wild mage seemed at a loss for words. "It's Allanon. This may come as a surprise to you, but remember how I told you I used to be a halfling for a while? Well, I seem to have goofed again. Thankfully, the change isn't permanent." The sorceress smiled sheepishly.

Deirdriel stared at Allanon and blinked a few times. At first, she thought this to be a joke of some sort, but then she saw the embarassment in Allanon's eyes and realized that it was true. She took a small step back and gasped slightly. She closed the door, only to open it again and gape at Allanon's new form.

"Al, is that really you?" she asked in shock. When the mage nodded at her, she rubbed her hands over her face and sighed. "No," she said. "No, this simply will not do. I can't date somebody who's prettier than I am. And I don't think any of my clothes are going to be able to fit you: you'll have to find some of your own. At least tell me you didn't do this on purpose. I wouldn't put it past you to indulge in some...experimentation."

“No, it was an accident. I was attempting to halt some undead with my magic, and this is the result. I've been thinking since it happened, trying to figure out how the spell could have warped so badly, but haven't been able to figure it out quite yet. It may have had to do with the wild magic zone in the ruins. Thankfully, this change isn't permanent. The other Harpells were able to strip away my previous halfling form with a limited wish spell, and I don't see why it shouldn't work here."

 “Wait, Allanon’s a guy?” asked Lisa. She chuckled softly to herself and shook her head. "I've heard stories of wizards changing form before, but this really takes the cake!"

Terenon smiled broadly at the exchange between Allanon and Deirdriel. He wondered whether the two ever had had a romantic relationship with each other. _If they are lovers,_ he wondered, _would they try a night of passion before he changed back?_ The image of Allanon the male and Allanon the female flip-flopped in his head. _No_ he thought, _that would be too weird. Memorable, but weird._

"Oh, forgive my absentmindedness,” said Allanon. “Deir, this is Terenon, a powerful evoker whom I've been traveling with since I left you a few days ago. This is Lisa LaBurton, and I have something to ask of you concerning her. After we fix this situation, of course."  

Terenon’s grin only grew broader as he extended his hand to Deirdriel. “Yes please change him back,” he said. “I grow weary of defending his...her honor from the propositions of every drunken knave we run into.”

"It is nice to meet you, Terenon and Lisa," said Deirdriel. "It is good to know that Allanon's femininity disturbs you almost as much as it disturbs me. Come in and let us be rid of it." The half-elf led the three into the sumptuously appointed room. She motioned to a few cushions for Terenon and Lisa to recline in while she made the preparations for her spell. "You know, Allanon," she continued, "a limited wish spell is not the easiest to cast. I don't do it very often because it is very draining on the caster: I do expect something to recompense my loss. Now, this may sting a little..."

Deirdriel intoned a powerful arcane phrase and made a few passes through the air with her hands, and suddenly Allanon's form began to change again. Her hair shortened back to its original length, as did her nails. Her chest and hips shrunk to their normal proportions, and her shoulders broadened. Her facial features became more and more masculine, and a beard sprouted from her chin. Finally, with a last contortion, Allanon was his male self again.

Deirdriel swooned unsteadily on her feet and leaned against the wall of the room for support. Her face looked a bit haggard, and her hair had fallen across her face. Straightening back to her full height and tucking a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair back to its rightful place, she regarded her handiwork. "There you are; everything should be in order now. I trust I won't have to do that again."

Allanon smiled, then moved over to Deirdriel and hugged her. Their embrace lasted an uncomfortably long time for the others in the room, but they finally separated. Allanon retrieved a sack of gold out of his robe and handed it to her in payment for the spell. "Now, onto our other business," he said.

Allanon sat down on one of the cushions and related everything that had happened since they last parted. After he was finished with the tale, he gave Deir a few minutes to digest it, then spoke again. "…and so, Lisa would like to begin a new life in Silverymoon. She needs some protection until the mage and devils forget about her. I would help her myself, but we have to return and take care of the Acolytes. Could you grant her your protection, love?"

"I promise I won't cause any trouble," Lisa said. "I don't want anything to do with acolytes or devils or frogmen. All I want is to be safe and happy and have the opportunity to make the most of my life. Maybe...maybe you could teach me to be a wizard!" she exclaimed. "Oh, that would be grand! Lisa LaBurton: wizard extraordinaire!" The girl laughed a bit, then looked up at Deirdriel sheepishly. "That is, if it's alright with you, ma'am. I don't want to be a bother."

The half-elf’s worried expression disappeared at Lisa's outburst of youthful exuberance. She smiled down at the girl. "Lisa, I would be honored to watch over you and make sure you remain safe while these men finish their business. I may even teach you a few cantrips if you behave yourself." 

This drew a big grin from Lisa. “Oh thank you, ma’am! You won’t regret it, I swear!”

“She’s quite the handful,” said Terenon.  “Keep an eye on her.”

Deirdriel turned back to Allanon. "I wish our reunion could have lasted a bit longer, but I understand the importance of your mission. You must not allow the Firebringer to be released. I will contact Lady Alustriel and inform her of the developments you have reported to me. Stay safe, my love: I could deal with you being a woman, but I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

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“Well then,” said Terenon as he and Allanon reentered the room. “Our friend is back to his normal self.  I am ready to scry on the secretary. Then, we will cast preparatory spells before teleporting in.  Any objections?”

Grundar shrugged. “Whenever you mages are ready, Wynona and I will be by your side.”

Rhys nodded. “It is time for us to avenge Berek.”

Jelani, who had remained silent long enough for some of the party members to forget his presence, adjusted his hat. “Very well. Let us bring down these, um, Acolytes of the Hidden Flame, was it?”

Rumar silently rose to his feet, a cold gleam in his eyes.

Terenon smiled, satisfied.  “They won’t know what hit them.”

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Degradzel stood before a stone workbench, gathering together a stack of parchments. She was in a long, low room finished in crumbling red brick. Four thick, square pillars supported the low, barrel-vaulted ceiling. The whole room was illuminated by the angry red glow of braziers filled with hot coals.

"Damned Durzhul," she muttered to herself, "making me do his grunt work. Oh sure, he pops his head out to grab his precious spellbooks, but then makes me drag down the rest of his things." She continued to mutter and gather the papers until, with a flash of light, a heavily armed party of adventurers appeared in the room behind her.  She let out a shriek and threw the papers into the air, scattering them around the room.

“Not again!” she wailed.


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## skullsmurfer

We will first mourn the death of Berek.....<drink beer, insult sissy elf with skinny swordesess, drink more beer, punch sissy elf for drinking sissy wine, drink more beer, repeat as necessary>
Ok now, cool story writing, i like the wild mage Allanon and i really liked the halfling Gillian<is she gone for good?> the armored assimar sounds cool,  I look forward to your next posting  bye


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## ltclnlbrain

Thanks for your comments, skullsmurfer!  Unfortunately, Gillian is gone for the moment: her player had some real-life problems that got in the way of her ability to play, and unfortunately, she had to leave the game.  However, the character is still around and may make a few cameo appearances later on, but she is out of the spotlight for now.


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## Terenon

*Deal*

The deal we made with the angel came in very handy later on. Very handy


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## Jelani

And, as always, some interesting RP came along with it...


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## A'vandira Silvermane

*Thanks for posting in JollyDoc's StoryHour*

Thanks ltclnlbrain, for this is how I came to read your SH.
And it is a really great Story Hour. Really like the characters as well as the detail in the story. Especially enjoy the descriptions of spells used in combat instead of just writing he cast this, she cast that. This way I get to use my own imagination (Ah, must have been .... (insert appropriate spell)).

Sure wouldn't mind playing in your game, and that's a rare compliment coming from me (trust me, it's true).

Hope to be reading more of your story soon.


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## ltclnlbrain

Thanks for your compliments, A'vandira! It always helps to play to a fledgling writer's fragile ego.   I haven't had much time to work on the next chapter, but it is almost complete and will hopefully be up in the next few days.  As a reward for your comment, though, you get a little preview:

The party has a chat with a ghostly resident of the Dungeon.

The High Conflagration proves why he is in charge of the cult.

The timely intervention of a newfound ally turns the tide.


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## Pelwrath

As for what's to come.A wise man once said.."The best laid plans oft go astray".  As for Rhy's death, I decided that I'd embelish what happened before he was called back.  I also, will give out props to the rest of our group for some great character developement.


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## ltclnlbrain

Well, this is what happens when you have problems falling asleep several nights in a row.  I had to do something to keep me busy. At least you guys get an update out of it.  :\ 

Chapter 14

Degradzel never stood a chance.

Grundar tumbled across the workbench an amazing acrobatic display that culminated in him stabbing the secretary deep in the chest. She shrieked in pain as a large gout of multicolored blood shot out, staining the floor and some of the scattered papers. Allanon, who had polymorphed into a lammasu, sent forth a freezing cone of cold; it caught Degradzel full in the blast, tearing her skin with thousands of ice shards and chilling her to the bone. Terenon, who had polymorphed into a naga, conjured a magical sword of force that slashed her upper chest, eliciting more blood that seeped down her robe and the leather armor beneath. Jelani sent forth a barrage of magic missiles that tore through the woman's body, leaving several gaping holes and causing her to drop to the ground, lifeless. Once there, her form began to shift and change. Within a few seconds, Degradzel reverted to her natural form: that of a gray slaad.

“And stay dead!” said Grundar, standing over the fallen slaad.  “Let’s find the others quickly.”

“Lead the way,” said Rumar.

The adventurers hustled out through the room’s east door into a short hallway with double doors at its end.  The doors stood open to reveal a scene of carnage.  Carnage caused by the adventurers.  Five dead slaadi, two red, two blue, and one enormous green one, laid scattered about the floor. The corpses and the pools of drying blood gave testament to the battle they had fought here one day hence. 

To the south, the hallway connected with the main hall leading east to west. At the far south end were a set of stuck bronze doors. Allanon puts his considerable lammasu strength behind him and started slamming into the door. It took a few tries, but the doors gave way and opened into the room beyond. Gold-flecked red stone circled this magnificent chamber, and a carved decorative frieze ringed it in a band about ten feet above the floor. Eight pillars of red marble supported a ceiling made of inky black stone set with chips of glittering white to resemble a starry sky. The floor, some forty feet below the ceiling, was made of glossy tiles in a pattern of red, black, gold, and white. Signs of ancient battle scarred the room's beauty. A dozen or so skeletons lied scattered about, some in rusted armor, others unarmored. The frieze seemed to have been damaged in spots by powerful impacts.

An unnatural chill seemed to settle over the room as a spectral form materialized atop the dais. The translucent form was that of a regal human wizard dressed in rich robes of ancient design. He had a shaven head, a long, drooping mustache, and piercing eyes that fixed on the party as he spoke in an icy, whispering tone.

“Does anybody know what he’s saying?” asked Rhys.

Jelani smiled. “He is speaking Loross, the ancient language of High Netheril. I will translate for you.”

“Defile not the Close of Stars, interlopers,” the ghost said in a cold, harsh voice. “Here the might and glory of the Selskaryn came to its end, as all things must in time. Bow your heads in reverence, and consider well the futility of mortal achievements."

Terenon rolled his snakelike eyes and turned to Grundar. “We have no time for this nonsense. Let’s try the next door.”

The ghost frowned and glared at Terenon angrily. "Ignorant fools! You dare turn your backs on the wisdom of a Magus of the Selskar? Only by learning about the past may you prevent yourselves from repeating our mistakes! Once we were glorious and mighty; now, we are nothing, brought low by the accursed Firebringer. Heed my words, lest I be forced to eliminate you for your impudence!”

“Obviously not a friendly ghost," Jelani added after his translation.

Terenon arched an eyebrow at the ghost.  His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth in agitation, but he spoke in a calm voice. “The Selskar Order was destroyed by the Firebringer, and now as we speak, the Acolytes of the Flame are days, hours, perhaps minutes away from releasing it again. They believe they can control it like you did. I don't need a history lesson from you to tell me that the Firebringer is a paragon of destruction. We search this wretched tomb for the remnants of the cult and plan on destroying them before they can perform the Ritual of Unbinding.”

The ghost frowned as it spoke. "I know of the Acolytes, though there is little I can do, since my spirit is bound to this room. Just stopping this cult is not enough to insure the Firebringer's defeat. There is no telling how far their influence may have spread, and it will only be a matter of time before another group comes to free their lord. Even if you bury the Well of Stars in rubble, sooner or later the Firebringer's minions will excavate a path to his prison and resume their efforts. We wouldn't even be worrying about this now, if it weren't for meddling adventurers such as you. Without their interference, Bazim-Gorag would still be rotting where he deserves, alone and forgotten. But seventeen years ago, a group of adventurers unearthed his vault before falling prey to the beholder-mage who dwells in the Vale. With the path to his prison cleared, Bazim-Gorag lured the Acolytes into his service and put them to work trying to release them. There is a way to stop them for good. Retrieve the scepter of the ar-magus from the slaad lord's hoard. It is needed to complete the ritual, and without it the Acolytes cannot prevail. The best thing would be to eliminate the slaad lord once and for all, though I doubt you'll be able to.  The entire might of the Selskar Order could only confine him to the Hedged Gaol.”

“Where is this prison?” asked Terenon.

"The Well of Stars leads down to the lower levels. The door halfway down leads to the cistern and the crypt, where the leaders of the cult are holding out. The bottom of the well opens into a vault that connects a fire rift far beneath the ground. North of the lava lake is the entrance to the Firebringer's prison, guarded by his mount, the Beast of Nine Flames, a legendary hydra. You will need protection against fire when you confront Bazim-Gorag, as well as magical weapons. The slaad lord has two heads that make him exceptionally resistant to enchantment spells. He is unable to harm anyone who is not within his hedged prison. East of here is our treasury. Within is a terra cotta statue of a dwarf warrior: hidden within it is a powerful greataxe enhanced with cold. You may find it effective against the Firebringer. In return for this information, I ask this of you: bring my remains to the Crypt of the Magi below and inter them with my fellow wizards. Then I will be able to rest in peace. Refuse and I will see to it you don't get further than this room." The ghost gestured to one of the skeletons on the floor, indicated his remains.

Terenon nodded.  “It is a deal then. I promise to lay your remains to rest.”

The ghost curtly returned the nod. "There is one more thing. The well is enchanted with a permanent levitate effect so you may travel it without fear of falling, but the motes of light are pure positive energy. Make sure to ground yourselves by keeping at least one hand on the walls of the well, lest you swell up with positive energy and burst."

“Does that mean the well can heal you?”

“Yes,” the ghost said, irritated at having to explain everything, “the positive energy will heal you. But too much positive energy infused into your body is very dangerous. If you are fully healed and receive a charge of pure positive energy, it may be too much for your body to handle and it will simply burst. Quite messily, I might add: not a pretty sight”

“Your help is appreciated,” said Terenon.  As the ghost became ethereal once more, the mage turned to Grundar.  “Stow the bones in the portable hole.  Let’s move on.”

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

The adventurers hustled over to the Well of Stars, levitating down its side to the door set into it.  Again, Allanon the lammasu bashed the door down, and the party passed into a long, narrow hallway that opened up into a larger hall lit by smokeless, flickering torches.  To the north, a stairway climbed into darkness.  Two doors were set into the north wall, one a large double door made of bronze, the other a single door made of rusted iron plate.

“I’ll check the rooms beyond the doors,” said Grundar tersely, activating his ring of blinking. Grundar blinked through the double doors into the room beyond. A great, dark pool of water filled most of this low-ceilinged hall. Burning brands floated atop the still, black waters. Several square columns dotted the chamber, rising out of the water to meet the ceiling. Broad steps of moss-covered stone led down to the water's edge, and across the chamber another set of steps led up out of the pool to the other side of the hall. A wooden table and a pair of large chairs furnished the area.

A hulking troll in chainmail loomed near the chamber's door. Across the pool, a man with a shaven head wearing robes of iridescent green sat at the table, examining documents. A sheathed longsword lied across the table within easy reach. Flame Lord Durzhul stood near him. All of them seemed surprised to see Grundar appear through the door without opening it. "That's one of them!" Durzhul cried. "The others can't be far behind!"

Eyes wide, Grundar leapt back through the door. “I found them! Durzhul, a troll, and another guy! Door’s locked from the inside.” Allanon nodded and quickly touched all the others, transporting them instantly inside the room. Jelani grasped the prayer beads about his wrist, calling upon the strength of Akadi as he cast a spell. 

"So you've finally arrived," the High Conflagration said calmly. "This game shall not go on any longer. Prep--" The rest of his words were cut off as Jelani blanketed the area in a field of silence.

Rolling his eyes, the bald man concentrated on Terenon. The very air around him seemed to compress inward, crushing the mage before the others’ eyes. Terenon let out an anguished scream as his bones snapped in two and his muscles were reduced to paste. In the span of a few seconds he collapsed, a tangled ball of compact flesh. The bald man smiled and turned to Allanon, still concentrating on his power.

The others’ screams of anger and terror were negated by Jelani’s silence effect.  Grinning, Durzhul hustled into the pool of water, sloshing through the get out of the area of null sound. 

Across the pool, the troll let out a howl of rage and started violently frothing at the mouth. He began trudging through the water, roaring loudly, as if daring somebody to attack him. Rumar obliged, unfurling his feathery wings and charging at the troll across the room. As the aasimar got within his reach, the troll stabbed at him with his spear. The spear pierced Rumar's armor and stabbed deep into his shoulder, but the aasmiar ignores it as he struck the troll a hearty blow with Pergium. The troll reared back in rage from the burst of holy energy that accompanied the stroke, and Rumar's sword thrummed, as if pleased with itself.

"While you may not be able to truly slay the creature, Pergium,” he told his sword, “we can disable him. An unfortunate state of affairs, I must admit; we have little choice but to batter the creature until it surrenders. Know that while I do not approve of this, there is little choice here. No doubt he will refuse to surrender to us, owing to his regenerative capabilities."

Grundar blinked back through the door to see the battle already underway, and Terenon lying mangled on the floor.  Crying out in anger, he rolled into the pool of water and stabbed the troll in the back.

Allanon felt the air closing in around him and knew he had only moments to act.  Backing out of the silence field, he sent a lightning bolt straight at the High Conflagration.  It broke his concentration and then arced to the troll and Durzhul, burning their flesh and setting the durzagon’s cloak ablaze.

Jelani gazed dispassionately at Terenon’s corpse. _One minute everything’s fine, the next you’re crushed into a pulp._ Frowning, he cast another spell, attempting to dominate the man’s mind, but his will was too strong to be controlled and the spell did not take effect.

The bald man’s wounds begin to slowly close up as he pointed his finger at Allanon.  Instantly, the wild mage felt negative energy course through his body, stopping his heart dead in its tracks. His eyes rolled back into his head as he sagged to the ground, dead.

As Durzhul cast a defensive spell, the troll stabbed Rumar in the chest with his spear.  He then whirled and stabbed Rhys, then whirled once more and tried to bite Grundar, but the elf dodged his vicious teeth.

“May Torm guide my strikes against this evil beast!” cried Rhys, pummeling the troll with both ends of his staff. 

"Surrender, abomination!" Rumar bellowed, rising a few feet higher with his wings before plunging down towards the troll once more. The winged aasimar bobbed about, slashing at the giant with his holy longsword, and after several strikes the troll fell face-first into the pool, drenching Grundar and Rhys.

Vaulting over the fallen troll, Grundar moved in front of Durzhul and stabbed the durzagon clean through his black heart. The dwarf stared down in disbelief and began to work his mouth, but nothing came out. Durzhul collapsed into the pool as the water around him began to turn red.

Jelani grit his jaw as he began casting another spell, summoning a shadowy image of the bald man’s worst fears in an attempt to strike him dead on the spot.  The man disbelieved the illusion and targeted the mystic theurge with his finger of death.  Negative energy coursed through his body, and Jelani began coughing up blood, but he resisted the death attack.

Rhys looked at the bodies of Allanon and Terenon, tears stinging his eyes.  Things were going very poorly, but he still had a trump card to even the odds.  “I call upon the aid of Ganamemnon!” he cried.  With a flash of light, the astral deva appeared in the room. Quickly taking stock of the situation, the angel cried out a phrase in Celestial and charged the bald man. He bashed the man across the chest, causing him to grunt in pain and anger.

Rumar gave a polite nod to Ganamemnon, and then grimaced at the wounds from the troll’s massive spear. Closing his eyes, he laid his hands upon the worst, a brilliant pearly light flaring briefly. When he had finished, a portion of the cuts had sealed themselves.  He then brought his sword and shield to bear as he flew to engage the High Conflagration.

Grundar sloshed through the pool onto dry ground.  He ran at the bald man and thrust his rapier in what should have been a crippling strike, but the blade was deflected by an invisible force field.

Seeing Rhys begin a summoning spell, Jelani began one of his own, though this summons would be different in nature.

The High Conflagration’s face curled into a snarl, but no sound came out. His form began to shift and change, and within a few seconds he had become something else entirely, a lean and quick-looking slaad with dappled gray skin and long, clawed fingers. It beckoned the adventurers in challenge, and its wounds healed slightly.

Rhys completed his spell, and an enormous golden elephant appears in the room. Though it barely fit, the elephant trumpeted loudly as it attempted to gore the High Conflagration. The froglike creature barely managed to twist out of the way in time. Rhys then fired a ray of searing light at the slaad, but it is hard to hit a dextrous slaad, especially when it is engaged in melee combat, and it was not surprising when the ray connected harmlessly with the wall beyond him.

Ganamemnon moved to flank with Rumar and attacked with a series of blows from his heavy mace, but he only managed to get one good hit in. The force of the strike seemed to have been ablated a bit; it should have done more damage then it did.

Rumar slashed the slaad once with his sword, but the slaad was protected from his consecutive attacks by its natural armor, agility, and the force-field around it.

Grundar unleashed a series of jabs and blows at the slaad, bringing to bear his full skill with his rapier.  The blade sunk deep into the High Conflagration’s back, and he opened his mouth to scream, but could not due to Jelani’s silence field.

Jelani completed his summonings and a bearded devil appeared, complete with vicious saw-toothed glaive.  “Attack the frogface and make sure it doesn’t escape,” he commanded.  The devil flew into a battle frenzy, slashing at the salad with his glaive.  Jelani dismissed the silence effect, since it wasn’t doing much good any more, and immediately the room was filled with the sounds of heated combat.  “Akadi, protect us,” Jelani prayed, and the group felt more competent as the goddess’ strength flowed through them.

The High Conflagration let out an enormous croak as he slashed at Rumar with his deadly claws.  The paladin blocked the first attack with his shield, but the second one tore a rent in his armor.

Rhys’ elephant struck again at the slaad, again to no avail.  The priest then attempted to dispel the slaad’s magic defenses, but their were no obvious results of the spell.

As Ganamemnon again bashed the High Conflagration with his mace, Rumar eyed the summoned devil with suspicion.  His eyes narrowed, twin pinpoints of light flashing in his helmet.  Words would have to be exchanged with Jelani when this fight was through.  For now though, he spoke quickly to his sword. “Lend us your aid, Pergium; I suspect we will have need of your magical power before this battle is completed.”  Instantly, his sword let out a pulse of white light as it blessed the group.  Wasting no time, the aasimar paladin brought the blade down on the slaad in several powerful blows, smiting the creature with the holy power of his faith.  The High Conflagration croaked in pain as unicorn blood from Pergium flowed through his veins and as the celestial blade tore large furrows across his torso.

Grundar stabbed the slaad deeply again, pouring more of its multicolored blood on the floor. The thing’s health seemed to be dropping quickly, but he still had much fight left in him.

Jelani's devil swiped a few times at the slaad, but he easily evades the attacks. Jelani decided it was time to join the thick of things.  The mystic theurge called upon the Weave to ensure his next strike would be true, then drew his spear and moved in on the slaad.

The wound Grundar inflicted started to seal as the High Conflagration whirled at him, trying to strike his blinking form. The slaad got lucky and connects with all three attacks: the first claw swipe nearly knocked Grundar senseless, stunning him.  The elf reeled unsteadily on his feet as his rapier clattered to the ground.

Rhys' elephant failed to connect once more with its attacks, so Rhys called upon the holy power of Torm to smite the foul slaad. A burst of positive energy issued forth, injuring both the slaad and the devil. The devil cried out in surpise as it was momentarily blinded by the pure energy.

Ganamemnon bashed the slaad with his mace, but missed with his consecutive attacks. He eyed the screaming devil warily but said nothing, focusing on hitting the elusive foe.

Rumar launched a furious combination of strikes at the slaad, but the creature managed to parry every blow with its bony claws. It smirked slightly at the paladin, but its smirk soon faded as it heard Jelani begin chanting the words to an extremely powerful spell.  The priest completed the spell, a small spiral appeared in the center of his palm.  “This ends now, creature!” he cried, stepping forward and slamming his palm into the slaad’s chest.  Normally Jelani would not have been able to lay hands on the creature, but his spell guided his hand true, and the High Conflagration’s body was consumed by negative energy.  He shuddered violently and emitted an agonized croaking wail as his life force drained away.  In a matter of seconds, the slaad collapsed to the floor, dead.


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## A'vandira Silvermane

*Just............Wow*

Awesome update once again, ltclnlbrain.
That sure was one Hell of a battle. Looks like some saves were not made in that final battle. I certainly hope that both Terenon and Allanon will return to the story though, for I like both characters as well as the rest.
Although I have never played a rogue in my entire life of gaming, I have to admit that I kinda like Grundar. But maybe that is because his name looks so much like my other screen name of Grindar Silvermane of Baldur's Gate.


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## Grundar

*thank you*

Grundar has been one of my most enjoyable characters so far in my d&d gaming life. His rogue skills along with duelist levels makes him a fun character to play. Dodging, tumbling and stabbing with a very sharp wounding rapier, plus blinking, make him a dangerous fighter when he's flanking. We had a debate a few days ago about Terenon's awesome spellcasting ability and the lack of melee fighting from him blasting everything before we had a chance to engage. From reading todays post, i just realized that Terenon and Allanon didn't do much in this fight, after being taken out right away by the high conflagaration, while Rumar, Rhys and me did most of the fighting. This fight was another good one. I almost forgot about how we played this one out. Ahh the memories flood back now..


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## Terenon

*Dead and loving it*

Terenon did die quickly in this battle. The character has a low init score and almost always goes last in a fight. It went very badly for him this time. Sort of anticlimatic. I had the fight built up in my mind and was taken out immediatly. Ahh well. 

We have had a balancing problem for combat as of late, but hopefully we have resolved the issue.


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## sithramir

Just wanted to say hello as I will be moving into the Orlando area in about a month's time. I've enjoyed the story hour. Sounds like a fun campaign! Maybe we'll be able to interact for some gaming in the future!


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## Jelani

I have to say from both an in and out of character perspective this battle was great. I don't think anyone, players or characters had a clue who/what they were really facing until we'd already defeated them.

It was just one of those situations where your enemies (and DM) really keep you on your toes.


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## Son_of_Thunder

*Very Good!!!*

ltclnlbrain,

I am enjoying this story hour immensely. It made me get out my copy of Dungeon 101 and read through the adventure. Very well done. Keep up the posting.

Son of Thunder


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## ltclnlbrain

Thanks for all the positive comments!  I always love hearing from happy readers.  Chapter 15 will hopefully be up in the next few days.  Quick preview:

Rumar has words with Jelani about his devil-summoning practices.

Some information about the mysterious Acessiwal is revealed.

The party returns to the ruins, where they find some interesting prisoners, then decide to *gasp* split up!


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## ltclnlbrain

A little short this time, but I'm determined not to let the story hour slip to page 2. Enjoy!

Chapter 15

The heavy mace came down in a crushing blow, shattering bone and flesh alike and sending teeth flying into the pool of water.  In a flash of light, the summoned bearded devil was sent back to hell.  Ganamemnon’s eyes flashed as he leveled the mace at Jelani, still dripping the barbazu’s blood.  “Summoning devils is a dangerous thing, sorcerer.  Be more cautious in the future, lest you attract the gods’ wrath.  They do not take well to consorting with fiends.” Jelani’s triumphant smile faltered in the face of the angel’s anger. The astral deva then turned to Rhys.  “My oath has been fulfilled.  I pledged to aid you once, and I arrived when you called.  You are on your own from here on out.”  With a flash of light, the angel disappeared.

The expression on Jelani’s face reflected puzzlement, with a hint of amusement.  He stared at the spot where Ganamemnon had vanished for a moment before speaking his mind. “Fascinating!” he exclaimed, in an almost cheery tone, no doubt quite a different reaction than the divine agent had been expecting when he delivered the stern, if short, lecture. “Have any of you had experience with other powerful, good, otherworldly agents? Do they all act like that?” Rather than the mocking tone one might expect with a question of that nature, Jelani’s was one of genuine curiosity.

"Only when forced to work alongside incarnations of evil,” said Rumar coldly. His head and torso slowly swiveled about as he turned to look in Jelani's direction, faintly glowing eyes staring at the mage from deep within his suit of armor. Now and again his wings beat in unison, perpetually keeping the assamir floating a scant few inches off the ground. ”We may talk more on this later."

The mystic theurge and paladin stared at each other, but luckily Grundar stepped between them and broke the tension.  “That was some spell, friend…I’m glad you’re on our side.” He smiled, but then grimaced as a fresh surge of pain came from the claw wound in his side.

“Let me tend to your wounds, Grundar,” said Rhys, stepping up and laying healing hands on the elf.  In a few seconds, the worst of the wound had closed up.  The priest then cast a sad look at Allanon’s body and the crumpled pile of flesh that used to be Terenon.  “Unfortunately, our victory came at a great cost.  We will take them back to the Temple of Torm in Silverymoon and hope they will be able to resurrect them.”

Wings folding against his back once more, Rumar slowly settled to the ground. With a grunt, he slung the dead slaad over his shoulder. "Let us gather the dead and their things, both comrade and foe, before we teleport away. I would not leave behind any of the fallen in such a place as this."

The surviving adventurers moved through the cistern, now host to the grisly scene of carnage left in the wake of the fierce battle. Most of the pool had turned red from the blood of the troll and Durzhul, and the desk was overturned, papers scattered everywhere. After stowing the corpses inside Grundar’s portable hole, Jelani teleported the group back to Silverymoon.

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The temple was a bit smaller and less flashy than the one in Baldur's Gate, but the priests were just as friendly. The High Priestess listened to the party’s tale and agreed to bring the mages back from the great beyond, for a sizable donation to the church, of course. Performing miracles isn't cheap, you know.

As the party awaited the return of their companions, Rumar quietly caught the attention of one of the acolytes of Torm. With hushed words and careful gesturing, he made it clear that he wished to see the bodies of Durzhul, the High Conflagration, and the troll properly treated and buried.  The cleric responded with surprise. They normally provided burial services for humans and humanoid races, but he told Rumar that the Temple of Torm would not deny those of other kinds the same rites. It would take some doing to find a coffin large enough to hold the troll, but the priest assured the aasimar that the bodies would be properly taken care of.

Nodding, Rumar turned to settle his gaze on Jelani. He had wanted to speak with the priest of Akadi, and now was as good a time as any. He marched over to the man and stood before him. “Tell me: is it often that you consort with natives of the Nine Hells?” he asked bluntly.

Jelani regarded the paladin with a cool stare. “I summon creatures on occasion when I am in need of them. I felt it was prudent to bring in some extra aid against the leaders of the Hidden Flame.”

“I am familiar with summoning spells. You could just as easily have summoned a servant of good as a servant of evil. Yet you chose to call a vile baatezu from the depths of Hell rather than a native of the Upper Planes,” said Rumar.

“Sometimes it takes the aid of a lesser evil to defeat a greater one,” replied Jelani.

“Beware the influence of devils,” Rumar’s sword Pergium suddenly said. “Calling upon their services leaves an indelible taint on your soul. You will not even be aware of it until your time comes and they drag you kicking and screaming down into the pit.”

“I usually make it a point not to take advice from weaponry,” Jelani added, smiling, “but I will keep that it mind. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be sure to only summon good creatures from now on.”

“See that you do,” said Rumar, turning to stalk off to a corner.

Grundar and Rhys had watched the conversation with amusement, and they smiled broadly as Allanon and Terenon emerged from the back room a short while later, alive and well.  “Glad to have you back!” said Grundar cheerily.  “It seems we’re visiting a temple every time we come out of that place.”

Allanon chuckled, but Terenon’s expression was somber.  “My friends…I thank you.”  He embraced Rhys in appreciation.  Surprised, the aasimar patted the mage’s back and subtly tried to extricate himself from the mage’s embrace.

“We should get some rest tonight,” said Rhys, clearing his throat. “Tomorrow we will head back and clear the out the top two levels of the ruins.  Then we can head down the well to the Firebringer’s prison.”

“That means we’ll need a place to stay,” observed Grundar.

“I’ve got someplace I can stay,” Allanon said, grinning.  He cast a two spells in rapid succession and then literally flew out the doors of the temple, leaving them swinging in his wake as he took off across the city.

“I guess he couldn’t wait to see Deirdriel,” said Grundar, laughing.

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Terenon felt his bones snapping as his body folded in on itself. His organs were crushed and ground to paste, his muscles stretching until they snapped from the pressure. He tried to scream, but his lungs were already punctured and no sound came out.  His teeth splintered and cracked, and his eyes swelled and burst.

“No!”

Terenon bolted upright in his bed, his body covered in a cold sweat.  The mage blinked a few times before he realized he was safe in his room at the inn. Crickets chirped merrily in the bushes outside, and the only sound was the mage’s breathing, shallow and fast.  He let out a long sigh as he laid back down to calm his nerves. _Only a dream,_ he told himself, but his death had been all too real earlier that day.

It was the first time Terenon had died. Adventuring meant hanging onto the brink of death almost daily, and he knew it had only been a matter of time before it caught up to him. It was unsettling nonetheless.

Terenon laid back, willing himself to rest. There was work to be done tomorrow: he had to read through all of Durzhul’s and the High Conflagration’s papers before they returned to the Dungeon. He wondered if it was worth it. The Firebringer still lurked in the depths of the dungeon, his prison unsecured. There was still time, but as the mage drifted off to sleep once more, he was not looking forward to the future challenges.

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Terenon was awakened the next morning by the sun streaming brightly through the windows of his room at the inn. He opened the window to get some fresh air, and a cold wind blew through the room, shocking what was left of his sleepiness from his head. Autumn was on its way, and the wind was but a harbinger of the cold times to come in the next few weeks.

The mage headed downstairs to the inn’s common room to find the rest of his party already partaking of a hearty breakfast. He joined them in their meal, and Allanon arrived about halfway through, a large grin plastered on his face. Terenon could only guess at what had made the mage so happy this morning. The horrors of the previous day beginning to recede from his mind, the group began to make the final preparations for the day to come.

“Now that the cult has been destroyed,” said Rhys, “we need to head back to the ruins and start searching the place. We shouldn’t forget to intern the mage’s skeleton, as well.”

"And what exactly would we be looking for?" Rumar asked, tilting up his head in attention from his current task of re-checking the straps on his armor. "And what is it we are to do with the dead mage, precisely?"

"For one thing, we still have to deal with Bazim-Gorag and the hydra guarding the entrance to him,” replied Grundar. "As for the mage, we just need to find the room with the rest of his buddies' skeletons and put him there. And of course, we should remove any equipment the cult left behind so that they don't fall into the wrong hands." The elf smiled broadly.

“Ancient powerful weapons like the axe the ghost mentioned probably abound in the ruins, but would be hidden artfully to survive scavenging like the Acolytes and previous adventurers must have done,” said Terenon. “I do think the first order of business is to place the skeleton in it's final resting place. Just to make sure you understand, I doubt it will be an easy task. I have a feeling that the mage asked us only because he thought we could succeed. Otherwise, any previous wanderers could have done it. I don't know what to expect, but until his soul is at rest, he won't make the search of the place easy. Besides, I gave my word. After we get the axe he mentioned and get whatever else we can find, we take care of the beholder.”

"I am going to retire to my quarters and read through the papers. It may take me a few hours. Do what you need to in the mean time.” The mage got up and walked towards his room.

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Several hours later, Terenon returned to the common room and called his friends together.  His face showed that the news was not good. He ordered some wine before beginning.

"I have read the papers in detail, and I have good news and bad news. First the good news: the Acolytes of the Flames have been effectively crushed. Some remnants remain scattered across Faerun, but since the head of the cult has been cut off, the body will soon follow. The bad news is somebody named Yarrick Zan. He was hired in the past few days to capture a wizard named Procyon and bring him back to the Dungeon of the Ruins. Later papers suggest that Zan will be arriving any day, if he hasn't arrived already. We may have a surprise when we return to the ruins."

"The High Conflagration proposed a possible alliance with Zhentil Keep, once the Firebringer was freed from his prison. Some of the papers are the High Conflagration's personal journal, detailing his plans of destruction once the Firebringer was freed. He was beginning to suspect that somehow Thornridge had been taken control of by agents of Acessiwal. Acessiwal is a great wyrm white dragon who lairs in the Spine of the World mountains north and west of Silverymoon. He has been working for the past few years to thwart the efforts of the Acolytes. Acesiwal wants to take control of northern Faerun for himself, and he sees the release of the Firebringer as a major obstacle in his plans. The dragon is beginning to gather forces to himself in preparation for an assault, but will not attack until the Acolytes and the Firebringer are destroyed."

Jelani frowned as Terenon finished, staring off into space. One could almost see the gears turning as he thought things out. He seemed oblivious to the world for a few minutes, as if he just switched his brain on, and left the rest of his body far behind. Suddenly, he spoke up. “Well, this is a bit of a problem. On one hand, we’ve got the Firebringer to deal with, and on the other this Acessiwal. Presuming that the High Conflagration was right, than there’s no way we can deal with one threat without empowering the other. I would suggest that we first deal with Zan and the threat he poses for the release of the Firebringer. Then we need to see what sort of damage we can deal to the mounting forces of the dragon. You all have more contacts here in Silverymoon than I, what do you think it would take to persuade them to find out more information about Acessiwal and his plans?”

Terenon nodded. "I agree with your assessment. Zan may be a problem, but he may just leave if he finds no others there. We should just be aware of his potential presence. I think he may just be hired muscle and not an actual member, according to the information I have read. I do believe we should let the others in the mage guild know what we've learned. They can get the information out to the others. Allanon, this would be a good job for you. After they are informed, we should leave as soon as possible."

“Very well,” said Allanon. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“I’ll go check with Torm’s clergy to see if they know anything,” said Rhys.

“I’m going to speak with Serrila,” said Terenon. “We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

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

Serrila was busy poring over a large tome as Terenon entered her room at the mage’s guild. She looked up as the mage entered the room, smiling radiantly. “Back so soon? I had heard you guys came back yesterday. How may I be of assistance?”

Terenon smiled brightly back at the aasimar. He sat down next to her and apologized for his interruption, then went into the lengthy monologue he had given the others that morning. "I was wondering if you can do a little research for me,” he continued once he had explained the situation. “Acessiwal. We will need a great deal of information on him before we can make our move. We also need to leave Thornridge alone, as he is now under the control dragon, and we don't want to tip our hand that the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame have been crushed."

"I have not heard of this great wyrm before,” Serrila said, her expression serious, “but I will see what I can do to gather some information on him. Hopefully my divinations will have shed some light by the time you return. Acessiwal no doubt has vast resources at his control, though, so I do not think it will be long before the dragon becomes aware of the Acolytes' fate. Even if the Firebringer remains a potential threat, the dragon may decide to take the risk and begin sending his forces down soon. We shouldn't tell anybody else about this, not even Lady Alustriel: if the Thornridge simulacrum is a servant of the dragon, there's no telling how many other Silverymoon natives are under his control. I will learn what I can: be sure to contact me once you return from the Dungeon again."

Terenon nodded in agreement. It seemed that he wasn't the only one with a healthy sense of paranoia. He smiled and patted Serrila's hand. "I will leave the particulars in your capable hands. When we return, the group will bestow a special gift upon you for all of your hard work. Your friendship is highly valued by all of us, especially me. Hopefully we won't be gone long. Good luck to you, Serrila."

“Good luck to you, Terenon,” the aasimar replied, smiling. “I’m not the one who is out exploring ancient ruins and battling hideous creatures.”

Terenon smiled as they stood, and then enfolded Serrila in a hug.  He felt the warmth of the woman’s body against his own, her lustrous hair tickling at his hands. Without thinking, he pressed his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. He lingered for a few seconds before drawing back, surprised by his own boldness. Serrila looked up at him; she was blushing, but she was also smiling. Hesitantly, she moved her hand up to touch the mage’s chin. Her fingers played over his features, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Her golden eyes sparkled as she slowly extricated herself from his grasp.

“You don’t want to keep your friends waiting,” she said. “Stay safe. I’ll see you later.”

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

Terenon met the rest of the adventurers at the inn a short time later. The foul mood he had awakened with was gone now, replaced by a lightness of his soul that was Serrila’s influence upon him. Smiling at his friends, he said, “Once more into fray, then?”


----------



## Pelwrath

This really was a frustrating combat.  After watching Allanon and Terenon go down, quickly, and several of my more useful spells ineffective, I remembered about the deva,  Ganamemnon. Still had a few ranged spells left.  Even for a cleric I'm not that much of a melee character, without using spells to augment my capeabilities.  Just wish I'd remember that in the future.


----------



## Terenon

*Brooding*

I figured I should play up the fact that Terenon had never died before. I figured he would be in a foul mood for a few days at least


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Awesome!!!*



			
				ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> A little short this time, but I'm determined not to let the story hour slip to page 2. Enjoy!
> 
> -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Terenon felt his bones snapping as his body folded in on itself. His organs were crushed and ground to paste, his muscles stretching until they snapped from the pressure. He tried to scream, but his lungs were already punctured and no sound came out. His teeth splintered and cracked, and his eyes swelled and burst.
> 
> “No!”
> 
> Terenon bolted upright in his bed, his body covered in a cold sweat. The mage blinked a few times before he realized he was safe in his room at the inn. Crickets chirped merrily in the bushes outside, and the only sound was the mage’s breathing, shallow and fast. He let out a long sigh as he laid back down to calm his nerves. _Only a dream,_ he told himself, but his death had been all too real earlier that day.
> 
> It was the first time Terenon had died. Adventuring meant hanging onto the brink of death almost daily, and he knew it had only been a matter of time before it caught up to him. It was unsettling nonetheless.



Really, really great. The attention to detail and the way you guys play out this kind of stuff is fantastic. I'm sure we all have at times had the feeling that dying isn't that much of a problem with resurrection spells and the like available. But as Terenon said, it's a great idea to describe the nightmares that you are bound to have from your first death experience.


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## ltclnlbrain

Alright! Over 1,000 page views!  And in celebration, here's another update!

Chapter 16

The adventurers teleported back to the Dungeon of the Ruins, to the hall outside the High Conflagration’s former lair. Pausing a moment to get his bearings, Grundar activated his ring of blinking and moved through the iron door on the other side of the staircase to scout out the room beyond. Heavy square grates of iron laid in even rows across the floor of the chamber he found himself in, apparently covering dark cells or pits. A rumpled square of canvas laid over one of the grates. Rusted bolts and heaps of chain were scattered at odd intervals on the floor beside the old brick walls, and the air was rank and damp.

The oppressive silence of the room was shattered by a horrible, piteous wailing from one of the cells in the floor. "Help me! Gods, help me! Get me out! I will do it! I will do it; I beg you, just let me out!" the voice cried just before dissolving into manic laughter.

Another voice joined in, burbling with lunacy. "Help me, heh! Heh! Get you in, get you in! There's one for all of you, heh! We all are in need of chastisement, heh!"

Not wanting to draw attention, Grundar blinked back out the door and reported to the others what he saw and heard. "I'm thinking one of those in there must be one of the mages the cult needed to complete the ritual. They seem to be in some crazed state. I suggest we not free them just yet."

Jelani shrugged. “I think we should free the prisoners now. They might not be entirely sane, but as long as they’re here, they can be used to free the Firebringer. Also, who knows when they ate last? I don’t know about all of you, but I happen to think starvation is a terrible way to die.”

"They seemed to be just fine when they were shouting in there,” replied Grundar. “The cult is destroyed, Durzhul is dead. I doubt anybody has the resources to free the Firebringer anytime soon. We should finish the search first, and then intern the skeleton. Then we can attend to them."

"Grundar!” said Rhys disdainfully. “I can't believe that you’re so cold. Those are human beings in there, humans who have most likely been tortured. We shouldn’t let them suffer a minute more; if I have to go in there alone, I will."

Rumar nodded and stared intently at Grundar, his displeasure obvious. "Crazed or not, likely to starve or not, valuable or not, I cannot in good conscience place searching this area for more baubles above setting those others free. You many continue your search of this area if you like, but we will attend to the others first. We can always rejoin you later."

“Yarrick Zan may be here already,” said Terenon. “It may be wiser to wait until we are sure we are not alone.”

“Just come with us for one quick check upstairs,” said Grundar. “Then we can come back down.”

Rumar frowned behind his helmet and nodded curtly. “One check.”

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

The staircase led up to an illusory wall close to the barracks.  The cultists had placed it there to protect the location of the High Conflagration’s lair. The party circled around the dungeon back to the Well of Stars, and Grundar approached the door to the south of it. As he blinked through it, a glowing yellow symbol appeared and discharged in a puff of fine sand. Being immune to sleep effects, the elf felt no averse effects from the spell.

The hall beyond was a majestic chamber almost thirty feet high, with two pillars of red-gold marble supporting the ceiling. The walls were ringed by a frieze ten feet above the floor, over which hung the tatters of proud banners and standards. Pedestals on the floor supported various art objects and trophies, including two suits of armor, a large vase of gold-green stone, a bronze urn, a terra cotta statue of an ancient dwarf warrior, and various other old treasures. A number of other places where items might once have rested were obvious.

Grundar passed back through the door, a big grin plastered on his features. “You have got to go in there,” he said, beaming. “It’s the treasury. Time to fill the portable hole.”

"I believe I agreed to wait while you checked that room," Rumar tossed out, folding his arms against his chest, "not to wait while you convulse with greed. Rhys and I will be down with the prisoners.” Both aasimar turned and walked off.

“Have fun!” called Grundar after them, then turned to the others. “Looting time.”

The doors were rusted stuck, so it took a few tries for the mages and the elf to open them. Eventually they gave way, and both Allanon and Jelani were quite surprised at the amount of treasure laid out before them.  The party members spread out to begin gathering the goods, but as soon as Grundar touched the first piece of gold, one of the suits of armor in the room lurched forward as it stepped off its pedestal. It slowly drew a large greatsword that crackled with electricity as it began stalking toward the elf.

“I hate constructs,” the elf groaned as he drew his rapier.

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

Meanwhile, Rhys and Rumar descended to the prison. Though the door was locked, Rumar began hacking at the lock with his sword and in the span of about a minute, the lock shattered.

Once they entered the room, the voices began shouting again. "I've been in here long enough!" the first voice started. "What did I do to deserve this? I will do it, I tell you! Just let me out of here!"

The second burbling voice joined in. "What did I do, heh! What did any of us do? Heh! Much longer have I been here, much more have I seen, heh! Death will come for us all, this I know all too well, heh!"

Listening closely, Rumar could tell that the first voice seems to be coming from a nearby cell, while the second voice came from further back, from the cell that had been covered in canvas. The paladin turned to Rhys. “I hope you have some way of magically immobilizing these men,” he said softly. “If these mages are truly mad, we may have to restrain them until we can get them in the care of a priest.”

“Unfortunately, I do not,” replied Rhys. “We’ll just have to be careful.”

Rumar nodded and then moved over to investigate the owner of the first voice. An iron grate covered the cell, and beneath that sat a middle aged man. His hair and clothes were dirty and unkempt, and he looked up with pleading eyes. His eyes widened as he took in the aasimar’s glowing eyes and feathery wings. "You..you are not an Acolyte! You are an angel, come to rescue me! Oh, I'm saved!" The man began weeping with joy.

From the other cell, the owner of the second voice contributed, "An angel, heh! Only an angel of death come for you, heh! No rescue, no escape from this existence! You are a fool to delude yourself, heh! A mighty fool, heh!"

Rhys came up beside Rumar and looked down at the man. “We are not angels, though we are here to free you. I'm Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm and the gentleman with me is Rumar, a noble paladin. Our group has destroyed most of the Acolytes. Once we open these cells, I'll tend to you as best I can until we're able to get you out of here. What is your name, sir?"

"My name is...is...Philosten. Yes, that's it. I haven't used it in quite some time. The Acolytes, they...they kidnapped me, wanted me to participate in a ritual that would free their lord. I..I was willing to do it, if they'd only let me out of this gods-forsaken cell. Will you let me out?"

“Philosten, I’ll have you out shortly.” Rhys reached down to the grate on the cell and, calling upon Torm to grant him a feat of strength, heaved with all his might. The grate pulled free of the floor and clattered as Rhys dropped it to the ground.. Reaching a hand down, he pulled the shaky mage out, who collapsed to the floor. The cleric checked him over: he seemed to be suffering from starvation and dehydration, but otherwise he was unhurt.

The second voice started up again. "Now free me, o angel of death, heh! It won't matter, no it won't, heh! Freedom is just an illusion! Life is just an illusion, heh! Nothing waits for us beyond the end; best to flay yourself alive and save nature the trouble, heh!"

As Rumar looked over Philosten and gave him some water, Rhys moved over to cell from which the rantings were coming. "Good sir, what waits for one beyond the end depends on how one lived in the now. If nothing matters and freedom and life are just illusions, I might as well just leave you here. However, that wouldn't make _my_ now feel right. So why don't you indulge me and let us release you? Once I've tended to your wounds, you can go pursue life as you feel best. But for me not to release you would be an injustice equal to the ones committed by those who imprisoned you here.”

The voice laughed maniacally for a few seconds. "Leave me here, heh! Leave you here, heh! You're concerned about your now, but what about your soon, heh? Heh! Release me if you want, but my wounds are far past tending, heh! Will I pursue life, or will life pursue me? You will see, heh! You will see, heh!"

Rhys sighed and turned to Rumar. “Rumar, please remove the canvas and the grate so I can tend to this man’s wounds. I may cure the body, but I fear his mind is beyond tending. The winds of fate will decide which way to blow him.”

The paladin nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t imagine it will be that hard.”  Rumar clanked over to the cell and threw off the canvas that covered it, revealing a horrible monstrosity. It looked like a gray-fleshed, hairless humanoid with an elongated skull-like head and noseless face. It stares up at Rumar with white, empty eyes, and the aasimar felt icy hands clawing at his very soul as his life-force wavered.

"Now you see, heh!" the creature shrieked with glee. "Now you see!"

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

Allanon wasn't surprised when the construct attacked. Something always seemed to happen whenever they weren't being careful. The wild mage concentrated for a moment, bringing to mind the words of a spell he had been practicing over the past couple days. He double-checked the pronunciations in his head once more, then started casting his spell.

The spidery words of magic flowed through the air, though they sounded even stranger than usual. In fact, to those who understood the language of magic, the spell seemed to make little sense. On the final word, Allanon thrust his hand at the golem. A cone shaped burst of colors sprang forth. The colors danced back and forth, creating a dazzling array of light that washed over the construct. When the colors faded, though, the construct was unaffected.

Allanon was surprised that his spell had no effect, and he was even more surprised when the animate armor charged at him and swung its sparking greatsword in a mighty blow. Fortunately, its joints were rusty from years of inactivity, and Allanon dodged away from the descending blade.

Terenon backed up and cast a spell, surrounding himself with mirror images. Jelani tried to dispel the magic that animated the construct, hoping to end the fight quickly, but his spell was ineffectual.

“My blade is next to useless against constructs!” cried Grundar as he moved to attack. Unfortunately, he phased into the Ethereal Plane just as his rapier would have connected with the thing’s metallic body.

“I’ll get Rhys and Rumar!” cried Allanon. He defensively cast a spell, and then he disappeared in a flash of light and a puff of smoke.

Deprived of its target, the construct turned to Grundar and sliced at him with its greatsword. The mighty blade connected twice, tearing large wounds open across the elf’s chest and sending electrical shocks throughout his body.

Jelani put a hand on his holy symbol and began to chant. The air in the room stirred and swirled with his words. “Akadi, come to our aid,” he called out, and a gust of wind swept into the room as if in answer.

Terenon called forth a sword of pure force to attack the construct. The glowing blade sliced a large furrow in the thing’s armor. Grundar reeled from the damage the thing had dealt him, but he responded in kind. He punched two small holes in the construct’s breastplate, but the thing didn’t even slow down. The construct slashed the elf again, but he managed to avoid its follow-up strikes.

Jelani completed his summoning spell, and the winds in the room coalesced into the form of an air elemental. “Please destroy that thing,” Jelani asked in Auran, and the elemental moved to pound the construct with its fists. Jelani then cast a familiar spell, and five glowing balls of magical force streaked at the construct, only to dissipate harmlessly upon striking it.

As his magic sword carved another furrow in the construct’s armor, Terenon launched a thin green ray at the thing. The ray was meant to disintegrate the construct, but Terenon cursed aloud as the ray dissipated like the magical missiles had. _If Allanon doesn’t come back soon, we’re done for,_ Terenon thought.

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

Rumar concentrated all his will on resisting the creature’s deadly gaze, and suddenly the icy hands around his heart retracted, leaving him gasping for breath. “Abomination!” he cried as he hurled the heavy canvas back over the cell in which the creature sat. The creature laughed maniacally and burbled happily to itself as the paladin stalked away.

Before anything else could happen, Allanon appeared in the prison with a flash of light and a puff of smoke. “Guys, we’ve got a serious problem,” he said. “The others are in trouble and we need to move quickly.” The mage cast a spell, and he and the aasimars began to speed up.

Rumar was about to ask whether the problem had been encountered while they were digging through the treasure when Rhys spoke up. “We’re here to help. What is it? Undead? More slaadi?”

“A construct,” said Allanon. “Let’s go.”

Rhys looked down at Philosten, then helped him to his feet. “We take him with us. We can’t leave him here.”

“Fine,” said Allanon. He laid his hands on Rhys and Rumar and chanted a brief spell. In a flash of light and a puff of smoke, they were gone.

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

Badly wounded, Grundar tumbled away and drank a healing potion. The worst of his wounds disappeared, but he was still bleeding heavily. Refusing to give him any respite, the construct charged at him again, but the elf nimbly avoided the crackling sword.

Terenon cast a spell and his form was suddenly displaced several feet away. He stepped in between Grundar and the construct, his mirror images dancing and weaving about. “Keep away from it, Grundar! I’ll distract it!”

Grundar paused long enough to stab the construct once more with his rapier before springing away. The construct sliced at Terenon, tearing through some of the illusions but leaving the real mage unharmed.

Then, in a flash of light and a puff of smoke, Allanon returned along with Rhys, Rumar, and Philosten. Wasting no time, Rhys sent a searing ray of light at the creature, burning a large hole in its armor.  Rumar charged in and tore into the construct with his longsword.

Wanting to contribute, Terenon drew a small dagger from his robe and thrust it into a chink in the armor. The mage was quite surprised as the construct suddenly stopped moving and dropped its sword to the ground. As he watched, the whole creature began melt until nothing was left of it but a pile of slag on the floor.

The mage raised both of his hands in victory and then looked at his dagger with awe. Apparently, he was better in hand to hand combat then he had previously realized. "All evil constructs beware of Terenon's dagger of destruction," he said, tongue firmly in cheek.


----------



## Terenon

*Construct killer*

That was so funny. Everyone else is doing substantial amount of damage, and I only stepped in as a target for the thing. The only weapon I had available was a non magical dagger. I was amazed I hit it, but I only did 1 point of damage, apparently it was enough


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## Felikeries

you should compile a list that shows
~each players hp
~then each attack/spell attacks dmg
~the healing recovery
for one combat session to put an interesting twist on viewing
how the session is playing through


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## Terenon

*Felikeries*

You can see the game in play here


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## Gramcrackered

Felikeries said:
			
		

> you should compile a list that shows
> ~each players hp
> ~then each attack/spell attacks dmg
> ~the healing recovery
> for one combat session to put an interesting twist on viewing
> how the session is playing through




Keep in mind that there are more than a few rounds to each battle, with many player posts in each.  That would not only prove quite a bit more work, but would just add a lot of reading that I doubt many people would want to see.

But, eh, that's just me.


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## ltclnlbrain

Felikeries, adding all that information would be a lot of work, and I don't know how many others besides you would be interested in it. But if enough people want all that information alongside or separate from the narrative, let me know.

In other news, I've added a poll to the thread. Now that all of the PCs have been introduced, you can vote for your favorite character. It also gives me an excuse to bump the thread back to the top. I would suggest that the players not vote for their own characters, though there's not much I can do to stop them if they're so inclined.


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## ltclnlbrain

I've just been cranking them out lately! The third update in six days.

Chapter 17

“How many times do your mother and I have to tell you? If you can’t take care of what you find, you shouldn’t bring it home.” Rhys smiled wryly as he mock-lectured Grundar, then called upon the power of Torm to heal the elf’s wounds.

“Yes, father,” Grundar replied, matching Rhys’ playful tone. Once his wounds were taken care of, he looked around at the treasures splayed out before him. His eyes settled on the terra cotta dwarf statue. “That must be the statue the mage’s ghost mentioned. Should we break it open to get the axe inside?”

“I see no reason to refrain from doing so,” said Terenon. “Rumar, if you’d be so kind?”

The paladin sighed deeply but did not protest, hefting Pergium and laying into the thick statue. It was thick and tough, but eventually he shattered through it and left a hole big enough to retrieve the prize within. Inside was a blue greataxe, sparkling with frost.

Terenon retrieved the fine weapon and smiled. His good humor quickly faded, though, as he thought about their lost comrade, Berek. It would have been a fine prize for him to wield. The mage looked at the rest of the group and decided that Rumar could best wield the weapon now. "Rumar, the weapon is yours to wield against our future foes. May it grant you decisive victory against evil."

Jelani walked over to the shattered remains of the statue. It appeared to have been quite valuable before Rumar had smashed it, but perhaps some minor magics could restore the sculpture to its former beauty. “Hold on a moment, I’m going to try and fix this statue. At the least, it’s a beautiful piece of art, at the most a lost treasure. But it will take a few minutes to fit all of the pieces together.” As he spoke, he knelt, and began piecing the statue together, chanting softly as he did.

As Jelani worked his magic, Rumar pondered the axe cautiously, clearly rather surprised by the gift. "I thank you, but I do not believe Pergium would be terribly happy about being completely replaced, nor would the forces that assigned him to me. This axe is a powerful weapon though...perhaps I shall use it only when I face creature's Pergium's powers prove useless against."

The sword at his side had begun to vibrate before Rumar had even finished speaking, resulting in a look of slight irritation on the aasimar's face. "Calm yourself, Pergium; one must learn to use all available resources at his disposal. I assure you that I will only wield the axe when absolutely necessary."

Sheathing his longsword, Rumar lifted up the axe in one hand and gave it a few experimental swings, only to end up rather red-faced and panting with the exertion. "This is...a rather large weapon, isn't it?" he gasped, letting the axe-head fall back to the floor. "So, not only would I have to limit my use of Pergium--" (an angry buzzing from the sword could be heard once more) "--but I'd also have to stop using my shield? I'm sorry, but I do not believe this is a weapon of my liking."

"I'll hold on to for now then," said Grundar, taking the axe.

Jelani finished his spells, and the dwarf statue was restored to its former pristine condition He smiled at the paladin’s words to his sword. It seemed that his companion was being bossed around by an inanimate object, and that touched his sense of humor in a very special way. “You shouldn’t speak to swords, or people might start to think you mad,” he teased Rumar in Celestial, grinning broadly.

Grundar and the others had put all the treasure in the portable hole, then the group had started to head back down to the prison to deal with the undead creature. Philosten followed closely behind Rhys, shuddering and sobbing.

Rumar glared back at Jelani and angry words began to come from his direction. But these words did not issue from the aasmiar, but rather from the longsword in its sheathe. “Ally of Rumar or not, I will never understand why he believes this to be an acceptable place of for me to learn more of mortal nature. Especially with one such as you about--consorting with devils was not something I had planned on!"

“Come now,” Rumar said reproachfully, turning his head to look at his sheathed sword. “This is precisely the sort of individual you should watch. Such a person must be guided carefully, lest he stray further from the path of light.”

“For a being of such supposed goodness, Pergium, you surely lack in manners,” a rather irritated Jelani snapped at the sword. “As for my ‘association with devils’ as you call it, it does not exist. The subject of a summoning spell is a tool, nothing more. It was my choice of a moment, because evil creatures are more often hardened against the attacks of good than their own kind, and if I faced a good being for some reason, I would most likely summon a celestial being”

With that, he stalked away to catch up with Grundar and Terenon at the front of the group.

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

The adventurers reached the prison to find the undead creature still burbling madly to itself in its singsong voice. Philosten began to shake once he heard its voice again, holding his hands over his head and sobbing quietly. Jelani glared in the direction of the creature’s cell with disgust. “Let us silence this foul creature and be done with it. It grates on my nerves, and is disturbing this poor man to no end.” Following his own advice, he reached into his pack to fish out a flask of holy water.

Terenon held up a hand and looked at Allanon and Jelani. “Let’s not give it a chance to fight back. On the count of three launch a fireball at the creature’s cell.” He turned to look at the others, smiling grimly. “I suggest the lot of you back up.”

Grundar helped Philosten to the back of the room. “One toasted undead coming up,” he quipped.

With a command from Terenon, the mages cast their spells and let their fireballs fly. Jelani's was composed of sonic energy, so the undead's cell was blasted by an enormous ball of sound. The tarp flew off and the grate crumpled from the barrage; the mages could hear the creature screaming from inside. Terenon's ball of flame then engulfed the cell, bringing even more screams. Allanon completed his casting and his fireball sailed at the cell. When it reached the target, it exploded, but a small explosion suddenly engulfed Allanon as well. When the smoke cleared, the sounds of the creature had been silenced; it laid charred and dead in its cell. Allanon was badly burnt, though: his face was blackened, and his clothes and hair smelled of smoke and soot.

Terenon looked at Allanon's burns with a mixture of humor and compassion. "You sure you've picked the right vocation for yourself, Allanon? Rhys should be able to take care of those burns."

Allanon coughed and patted out some small fires that smoldered on his robes. “Sometimes I do have my doubts,” he said ruefully as Rhys moved over to tend to his wounds.

“Wild magic again, eh?” asked Rhys. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that every time I cast a spell. At least you didn’t turn back into a woman.”

Terenon shook his head, then moved over to Philosten. The man had finally stopped trembling, though he still looked badly frightened and sick. “My name is Terenon,” he said to the man. “Are you well? I would prefer for you stay with our group for a while, for your own protection as well as ours. If we face combat, stay back and away and let us do our jobs. Once we are done with our tasks, we will take you to some place safe."

"To tell the truth," Philosten said shakily, "I am not well. I could use some food and water: the Acolytes were not very kind to me in those regards. Or in any other regards for that matter. I really am in no condition to follow you around, much less fight. I would really like to just go home and recuperate from my ordeal."

Terenon looked at the man with concerned eyes. "Food and water are not a problem. Rhys can minister to your health. However, we must press on. You can stay here until we return, you can come with us, which is probably safest, or you can strike out on your own."

Rumar had heard enough. He stepped forward, eyes glowing angrily. "From what I've seen,” he said, staring pointedly at Terenon, “you only need to press on because you are so preoccupied with finding more treasure. Returning this man home is a priority I place far higher than any material goods that might be found here--and I certainly shan't tell him he can simply wait here or wander about and hope for the best."

Terenon leaned in close to Rumar, a cross look on his face. "You may escort your new friend to town, but I have a promise to keep. I promised to inter the mage’s bones in his crypt, and I intend to do just that. You should also know that Philosten’s face appearing in Silverymoon might alert the dragon’s agents that the Acolytes are no more. Not to mention that this mage’s mouth will spin yarns of such. The death of thousands rests on your moral posturing. Do as you wish."

"I would not force one man to sacrifice himself for the potential good of a thousand or even a hundred thousand lives,” replied Rumar. “Such a thing goes against every moral fiber in my body. Furthermore, though you seem to be certain that this is a matter of life and death--"

"Rumar,” Allanon interrupted, “some of us aren't completely enamored of finding more treasure. We need to press on to make sure Bazim-Gorag and his evil never again walks Toril."

"--the first area you went for was the treasure room,” continued Rumar, not missing a beat. “Even when I protested about those locked down in here, you decided said treasure was more important. That you absolutely had to possess whatever might be in there, regardless of the condition of those in here. A strange choice, considering the number of lives your quest seems to hang upon." The paladin gestured broadly towards Philosten as he spoke, looking pointedly at his ragged condition. "I have no doubt that you mean well in the end, yet I find your progress to said goal a tad disturbing. I will continue to aid you, but I will also see this man at least to the exit of these ruins. I will also be taking an equal share of the treasure and doing with it as I see fit; reparations to Philosten and donations to the church seem a more fitting use."

Terenon was a man known for his self-control and restraint, but he could not hold back his rising temper. Perhaps it was death that had changed his temperament, but whatever the case, he was angry. "Look you tin-plated, pious, winged half-breed! No one is asking that Philosten sacrifice himself, unless you consider my request for him to sit on his ass in this room a dangerous task! I don't think it is too much to ask in defense of thousands of lives, you bird-brained buffoon. And yes, I am certain he will be a security risk. When this mage starts relaying his story in Silverymoon, the dragon's agents will surely catch word of the Acolytes’ demise. Acessiwal would not hesitate to start the war machine rolling. So why don’t you think the next time you open your big mouth?" The mage stormed off without hearing the rest of the conversation.

Rumar watched Terenon storm off with bland eye and visage. "He should learn to control his temper, especially during such an important matter. Perhaps one of you should go after him before he stumbles into something he can't handle once more.”

Allanon moved to follow Terenon, but he paused to look back at Rumar. “I did not insist on going after the treasure. I merely stuck with the party. I’m sure Philosten would have been fine for another few minutes.” He turned away as he left the room.

Jelani looked at Rumar and shrugged. “While I enjoy the philosophical debates that your presence engenders, Rumar, I’m afraid that I must agree with Terenon on this one. The mage’s return to Silverymoon, or any place with a sizable population for that matter, could easily spell disaster in the long run. Though I feel for his plight, I’m afraid that he must bear this place a bit longer. I understand how you might consider that we’re just looking for treasure, but did you ever think that perhaps that was just a coincidence that the treasury was the first room we encountered?” Shaking his head, Jelani continued. “I understand that patience is considered a virtue to those who follow your path. Might I suggest you practice that now? In the end, it is your decision, and there’s nothing I or anyone else can do to change that, but it is my decision to reserve my aid for those who have care for what we’re doing.” Not really waiting for a response, he followed after Terenon, though without the anger.

Philosten watched the argument helplessly. Once the mages had left, he coughed lightly. "Well. I didn't mean to be the cause of such a heated debate. Nesme is just as far away as Silverymoon: if it will help your cause, I can head there instead. And I can stay quiet on the matter of my imprisonment. I will try to keep a low profile; seems I've caused much trouble already just by being here.”

“No Philosten,” said Rhys, “you haven't caused any trouble. Our only concern is to see that you are able to rest and recover while keeping your ordeal safe from prying eyes. Some of us forget what you've had to endure these past few weeks.”

Grundar looked at the door, then back to the haggard mage and the aasimars. “Philosten, we don't mean to just leave you, but this place needs to be secured as fast as possible and we need to find out as much as we can before the dragon's troops find out that the Acolytes have been destroyed. We are expecting someone the Acolytes hired to arrive here soon. I just hope he's going to turn back once he finds out his employers are dead."

"A shame," Rumar said, shaking his head as Grundar followed the mages out the door. "I had hoped that pointing out this man's plight might make them realize the error in their priorities, yet they merely grew angry and defensive. I suppose I shall have to try a different approach. Oh well,” he continued, nodding at Rhys. “At least I am not entirely alone in this matter of moral debate."

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

Allanon and Jelani found Terenon standing out in the hall rubbing his neck. His face was flush, so the mage cast a minor spell. A soft mist of water sprayed forth from his hand and Terenon used it to cool off. He turned as his companions approached. "Sorry for losing my temper. It just got to me when he kept implying that we are nothing but money grubbing opportunists. I mean, I died a horrible death trying to save others and that... Sorry, let’s just forget it and move on."

Jelani nodded. “It’s really not your fault, he just refuses to see that we are not asking the man to sacrifice his life or well being, we are just simply asking that he delay his return to civilization until we are finished dealing with the immediate threat.” He shook his head sadly, “I don’t understand how people walk through life so ignorant of how the world works.”

Terenon nodded in agreement. "The control of my emotions is my responsibility. It is important to me and my decision making that I think objectively. It was embarrassing for me to lose my temper. I can't let him get to me in such ways."

Rhys and Rumar emerged from the prison and moved to join the rest of the group. Rumar looked at Terenon for a long moment, then turned to the others. “Philosten will stay in the prison until we are ready to return to Silverymoon. We will then take him with us and ensure his safety.”

Terenon nodded. “Fine then. Where to next, Grundar?”

The elf smiled. “We’ll stop by to get the sword and armor from those tongue-creeps, then check out the last room on the top level. From there, we find the crypt to inter the mage’s skeleton, and then we face the hydra and the Frog-Lord.”

“Let’s get started then,” said Terenon.


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Great update and nice debating*

You did it again, ltclnlbrain. Another great update and one that I am glad to have read before voting for my favorite character. I actually like all the characters in the game, but the moral debate around Philosten just had me finally choosing for Rumar. His reasoning is the same as A'vandira would and indeed already did follow in similar circumstances, and I really liked the way he voiced his opinion and 







> "A shame," Rumar said, shaking his head as Grundar followed the mages out the door. "I had hoped that pointing out this man's plight might make them realize the error in their priorities, yet they merely grew angry and defensive. I suppose I shall have to try a different approach. Oh well,” he continued, nodding at Rhys. “At least I am not entirely alone in this matter of moral debate."



 this part had me completely on his side. The paladin that sees both Law and Goodness without compromise or shades of grey. (In the campaign I play in, it took the direct intervention (a voice in my mind) of my god to prevent me from going insane over my inability to save a group of slaves from their troll captors. Trying would have meant instantly dying and now our party is preparing to free the remaining slaves at last, but I still have a gnawing feeling of guilt inside. Was a great piece of RP-ing to be seen in that particular session).


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## Terenon

*Moral Discussions*

That was a fun argument to have. Rumar did a great job in maintaining his character without going over the top. I see people who play paladin who are rumove all humanity out of the characters. They become cartoonish in thier behavior. I think that roleplaying wise, Paladins are the hardest to play believably. Rumar does really good job at it.


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## ltclnlbrain

Ah! Page 2 bad! Up, up!

A preview for Chapter 18, which, if all goes according to plan, will be upt tomorrow night or the night after:

A few brief skirmishes with undead.

The party finds the Crypt of the Magi.

Terenon gives Serrila a gift, and plans are laid for a party to celebrate the group's success.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 18

From the prison, the party made its way back to the cell with the undead creatures, who were still performing their skeleton impersonation act in an attempt to lure another unsuspecting adventurer inside. The party did not fall for it this time, though, opting instead to fire several spells through the viewport in the cell door, not letting up until the creatures were blasted to pieces.

After retrieving the magical sword and armor, the party continued to the last room of the Dungeon’s upper level. It was a large room, bare save for a sunken area in the center upon which a complete summoning diagram had been inlaid. A towering, armored figure stood motionless within the diagram. It was another undead creature, and it attacked as Terenon drew near to investigate. The abomination fell quickly before Rumar’s blade, backed up by a few powerful spells from Terenon and a searing ray of light from Rhys.

As the creature fell smoking and dismembered to the ground, Grundar shrugged and looked to the others. “Hmm, looks like the Selskaryn crypt isn’t in an obvious location. Perhaps we should head back to the ghost and asked him for directions.”

Terenon scoffed at the idea. “Ask for directions? I'm still not happy about doing the task; I don’t want to speak to the dead bastard. I believe it can be accessed via the Well of Stars. It seems like a good place to hide a crypt.”

Allanon shrugged. “It’s as good a place as any to look, I suppose.”

The group headed back to the Well and began floating down once more. “Remember to keep a hand on the wall to avoid the positive energy motes,” said Grundar as they descended. His eyes were on the walls, and about halfway to the opening at the bottom, his keen eyes caught the telltale signs of a secret door. The elf grinned as he opened it, revealing a dark, still chamber. A door of bronze stood in an alcove to the east, and a large statue of a grim-looking wizard in ancient dress occupied an alcove to the west.

Grundar activated his blinking ring and went through the door. The redolence of funerary spices hung in the air of this chamber. Stone sepulchers lined the walls, resting between low thick columns. The chamber was finished in smooth, dark stone, and the sepulchers were made of rose-colored granite. Each was covered by a copper sheet engraved with ancient writing.

“Found it!” Grundar called. “Let’s dump these bones off and find something better to do.” He pushed open the door to allow the others in, but as he did, a glowing yellow symbol appeared on the door. It let out a blast of light, and the elf felt his sanity being jerked away from him. With a great effort of will, he managed to resist it, and the symbol faded away.

Grundar shook his head after taking the blast of light right on. He'd been lucky twice with traps so far: it was best not to tempt Lady Tymora again. "Next time, I better check before I open doors," he muttered to himself. Then he grinned and swept his hands back at the crypt behind him "All right, here we go: I present to you…the Crypt of the Magi! Feel free to check out a coffin or two, see if there are any valuables you’d like.”

Behind his helmet, Rumar's face slumped once more into a tight frown as he heard Grundar's callous words. "Truly, how could I not see how you take this vastly important mission with the utmost seriousness," he murmured to himself as he watched the others move about within the tomb. "I will wait out here," he called into the room, taking up a position outside the entryway. Let the others loot the bodies of the dead if they so desired - Rumar would have no part in such a deed.

“Check for more traps,” said Terenon, cautiously moving in to the crypt. “I doubt one symbol on the door is the only protection this place has.”

Rhys frowned as he stepped inside. "I've no problems with assisting you, but I'm confused. An agreement was made to put the mage’s bones to rest in this place. Granted, nothing was said about looting it afterwords,and I've few problems with looting it. The Selskaryn don't seem to have had the most savory of reputations. However, the book of Thyzen says in the 3rd Canto: _One should always be true to their word; give it not lightly nor in jest, for your word is the hearald of your reputation._”

Jelani couldn’t help but smile at Rhys’ quoting of scripture. “What you say may be true, but as the Book of Zarhin says: _Be true to yourself, to do otherwise is unthinkable. To deny who you are is the worst of lies._ Grundar and Terenon are just being true to themselves.”

“And true enough, there are more traps in this crypt,” said Grundar. “It seems that the mage’s put a poweful spell on their sepulchers. If we were to open one, we would be transported to another plane of existence, most likely an unpleasant one. Not to worry, I’ll have it disarmed in a few minutes.”

“We should be careful about opening the sepulchers,” said Terenon, looking at the center of the room with suspicion. “There are four ghostly warriors lurking ethereally in the crypt. They are not making any threatening movements yet, but I doubt they would allow us to loot those in their ward.”

Rumar concentrated to detect evil auras in the room, finding four lingering about the ghosts. "The souls that lurk within that place are most certainly not benevolent," he called out. “It would be wise not to anger them.”

“Well, we don’t have to open the sepulchers, per se,” said Grundar. “I could blink into them and take a look around. Any one have any objections?”

"I doubt I could stop you from desecrating this place short of violence if there is treasure inside," Rumar called out in response to Grundar's question. "All the same, yes, I can safely be placed into the objecting category."

“Anybody else?” the elf said, ignoring the paladin. “Good. It will just be a moment.”

A total of twenty-four sepulchers lined the chamber, so it took Grundar a while to poke his head into each one. Most of the corpses inside did not have much of value on them, just some minor jewelry. One of the crypts was empty, and Grundar figured this would be a good place to inter the ghost's remains. A few of the crypts, those along the east wall of the room, seemed to belong to higher ranking indivduals and had more of value in them.

The corpse inside the southernmost sarcophagus on the eastern wall wore two valuable-looking rings and clutched a rod decorated with a lightning motif in its hands.  Inside the sarcophagus next to this one, the corpse wore a silver skullcap. The remains in the next sepulcher were covered with a sheet of parchment; as Grundar looked in, a glowing black symbol appears on the parchment and gave off a bright flash of light. Grundar felt as if his soul was being torn from his body, but miraculously he was able to resist the death effect. The symbol faded away to nothingness. 

The elf pulled out of the last sepulcher, eyes wide. “Dammit, that’s the third one today! By the gods, I’m going to get myself killed one of these days.”

“One could only hope,” Rumar muttered under his breath, but nobody heard him.

“Well, the empty sepulcher is over there,” said Grundar, gesturing to a coffin.

Terenon opened up the portable hole, and Allanon and Rhys retrieved the mage’s skeleton. Jelani opened the lid of the sepulcher and the others placed the bones within. As they did so, they heard a faint laugh. Floating down through the ceiling, the mage's ghost entered the crypt and favored the party with a smile. He said something in Loross, then crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He floated into the sarcophagus with his bones and faded away, finally laid to rest.

"Did anyone catch what that mage said? I think he said that we can take what's in the other sepulchers," Grundar snickered.

Jelani chuckled. “I’m afraid not, Grundar. He thanked us, and reminded us that we need to destroy Bazim-Groag. Of course, we could just presume that what’s in the sepulchers could help in the fight, in which case I don’t think he’d mind. For what it’s worth, if you want to get what we can from them I don’t see it as a problem. However, if as Rumar says, the souls buried here still linger, then I would think that we should do what we can to see that they are put to rest, and just ask if we can use their former possessions.” He glanced at the paladin, looking for his input.

Terenon looked deep in thought before he began to speak. "The warrior ghosts are obviously set with the task of protecting this crypt from robbers. I do believe that the items Grundar saw in the last coffins were worth taking for the up coming battle. The Selskaryn were an evil people, I doubt these four poor souls will find rest without help from us. Jelani, can you speak to them in their native tounge and find out if my speculations are correct? Maybe there is another way to lay them to rest without resorting to violence."

Jelani stared off into space for just a moment before nodding. “It’s worth a try at least, but I should warn you that these spirits may have been trapped here long enough to go mad. If that’s the case, then they may attack us just because I spoke to them, or failed to use the proper etiquette by addressing them by their long forgotten titles, so it is best for you to be prepared.”

Jelani took another moment to carefully choose his words and then called out to the spirits in the long dead tongue of the Selskaryn people. “Bound spirits of the Selskaryn, hear me. My companions and I have no desire to fight you, but we ask your permission for us to be in such a hallowed place. We would know what binds you to this place so that we might free you from your torment.”

The warrior ghosts regarded Jelani for a few moments. Then, one floated forward and replied, “We are bound to this site to watch over the remains of the fallen Selskaryn mages and ensure that their tombs are not disturbed. If the tombs were to be destroyed, we would have no purpose and would thus be laid to rest. However, any attempt to desecrate the tombs will force us to attack you."

“Were you bound here against your will?” asked Jelani.

"In life, we were tasked with protecting the mighty Selskaryn order from danger,” the ghost replied solemnly. “When the troll warlord Harska Thaug led his armies against, we failed in our duty and the Selskaryn were wiped out. Now, in death, we must protect these tombs at all costs. I'm afraid that if you plan on raiding them, we will have no choice but to attack. This will be your only chance to leave."

“We wish to use the treasures in the crypts in the fight against Bazim-Gorag,” said Jelani. “From what I understand, it was not your fault that the Selskar Order fell, but rather the treachery of the Firebringer that sealed its doom. We intend to destroy the Firebringer, and these treasures will surely help us in our cause. This is your chance to make up for your failure, by allowing us to right the injustice that was wrought upon the Order centuries ago.

The ghost turned to consult with its comrades. After a few minutes, it turned back toward Jelani. "You present a convincing case. We do not know what sort of treasures the mages were buried with, but if you pledge to use them in the fight against the Firebringer, then we will allow you to take them. Do not disturb the sanctity of the bodies, though."

Jelani bowed before the ghosts. “I swear that we will use anything we find here to fight the Firebringer, and correct this injustice; as I value the wind on my face, so will I value this oath.” He then turned to the others. “The ghosts will let us take the items, as long as each of you swears an oath to use them in the fight against the Firebringer.”

Each party member in turn swore an oath, and the ghosts allowed them to take the treasures from the crypts of the magi. Once they were all finished, Terenon said, “Let us leave this place. We can take Philosten with us when we teleport to Silverymoon. I just don't want the beholder seeing him leave. Jelani and I can spend the next week preparing our spell books with new spells for the upcoming battle with the hydra and the slaad lord. We must also buy generous amounts of fire resistance potions. Let us leave here with haste."

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

Serrila Destare answered the knock on her door, opening it to reveal Rumar, Terenon, and the rest of the adventurers. “Welcome back,” she said, smiling, though her smile soon faded as she noticed the ragged man leaning heavily on Rhys.

“This is a friend,” said Terenon in response to her questioning glance. “Philosten. The Acolytes had planned to use him in the ritual of unbinding. We need a safe place to keep him until this business blows over, someplace where Acessiwal’s spies cannot find him.”

“I will keep him safe here until the situation blows over,” Serrila said. She took Philosten by the arm and led him to a back room with a comfortable bed. She then fetched him a pitcher of water and some food before returning to the sitting room, where the group had already made themselves comfortable.

Rumar had pulled off his squat metal helmet when he entered his sister's room, revealing a face which only vaguely resembled his sibling's. Unlike his sister, Rumar's skin had an underlying green tinge to it, the pecuiliarity of which was further punctuated by pupils swimming in circles of pure gold. His head was shorn of hair, though the faint traces of stubble peeping about atop implied that he was not bald, but merely shaved it. “Could that undead creature in the cells have been necessary for the ritual?” he was asking. “I can think of no reason for the acolytes to have had it locked up.”

“The thing was obviously insane,” said Allanon. “That would be reason enough to lock it up, for their own protection. Or maybe it had always been there, a remnant of the times of the Selskar Order.”

Terenon stood up as Serrila entered and moved over to her. “Serrila, your aid has been invaluable over the past few days. On behalf of the group, I wanted to present you with a token of our thanks.” From within the folds of his robes, the mage produced a small ring. He had found the ring in the treasury after they had defeated the construct that guarded it, and it was a thing of beauty: a white gold band engraved with a leaf motif, with an emerald set inside. The ring also bore a magical enhancement that would protect its wielder from harm. Terenon held the ring forth and presented it to the aasimar sorceress. “May it aid you and protect you from harm,” he said.

Serrila’s golden eyes sparkled and a smile spread across her face. "It's beautiful! You didn't have to get anything for me; you know my aid is given willingly. It's very sweet of you. It shows you care." She slid the ring onto her delicate finger and gave a soft kiss to Terenon's cheek.

Terenon blushed a little at Serrila's praise of the ring. He said off handedly, "All of us appreciate what you have done. If it were not for your help, we would not have gotten as far as we have."

Serrila smiled again and glanced over at her brother. "I hope Rumar hasn't been too much of a burden on your expedition. Once he found out about the danger in the ruins, he insisted on accompanying you. He can be a little...hardheaded at times," she said sheepishly, casting a forgiving glance at Rumar.

"I prefer to think of myself as merely extremely steadfast in my efforts," the paladin replied wryly, stretching his arms, neck and shoulders about languidly.

At the mention of her brother, Terenon's jaw noticably tightened. He gave out a half-laugh and said, "Yes, your brother sees no gray in the world, only black and white. It would seem that you have taken all the charm and left him with none. However, he has good intentions and is only trying to do the right thing, so I can barely fault him for that.

“It looks like we will be in town for a week or two. I will be writing spells in my book. Do you think I can pay for a room here in the guild? Perhaps, on my meal breaks, you would be kind enough to dine with me?"

"I am sure the guild will rent out a room for only a few pieces of gold. And I would be delighted to dine with you as long as you stay here," the aasimar said, smiling.

Rumar listened as Terenon talked with Serilla, watching closely with narrowed eyes as the two interacted. By the end, what little good mood that had surfaced upon entering had washed back away, clear irritation showing upon the paladin’s face. It seemed that he did not approve of what was developing before his eyes.

Smiling, Terenon turned his attention to Grundar. "Do you think we can sell some of our treasures and rent a hall to celebrate tonight? A private party for us and our dear friends. We can hire bards to serenade us with song and Cooks to fill our bellies with good food. I will start my studying tomorrow. Tonight let us enjoy our successes and good fortune."

“Sure thing,” said Grundar. “We have lots of loot to distribute, and I’ll need some help with the dwarf statue and some of the heavier treasures. I’ll get us a nice private hall where we can celebrate tonight.”

"I will go with you, Grundar," Rumar muttered, cramming his helmet back upon his face. "I would rather distribute my sixth of the share before it is frittered away on trivialities." The difference between his voice with and without the helmet was vaguely unsettling. Without the metal encasement, it had a musical, pleasing quality much alike Serilla's; with it, his voice just ended up sounding flat and imposing.

As they headed out, Terenon turned to Serrila and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “I will escort you to the party tonight. It will be a night to remember.”

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

The half-elf approached the fallen Tower of the Star. He was clad in tight black clothing, but was otherwise nondescript. A man in brown robes followed behind him, his hands bound, his head bowed in submission. A prisoner as powerful as this mage would normally need more than mere rope to keep him complacent, but Yarrick Zan had many more tools at his disposal than the obvious.

Zan gazed questioningly at the ruined guardhouse, expecting to see the fomorian giants watching the approach to the keep. His suspicions were confirmed at the sight of the enormous corpses rotting in the courtyard. Various carrion birds picked at the flesh, unconcerned by these newcomers. 

_It seems the Acolytes finally bit off more than they could chew,_ thought Zan. Leading the mage across the rubble-strewn courtyard, he found the secret door leading to the teleportation circle hanging open. Intrigued, the half-elf stepped into the circle and disappeared with a flash, reappearing in the connecting room below. Before him was a scene of carnage. Several slaad corpses were strewn about the hall, and the tangy smell of ozone lingered in the air. Blood and gore were spattered on every surface.

Zan's lips twitched in agitation. _Looks like I won't be getting the rest of my payment. There is something I might salvage from loss, however._ The half-elf turned to the mage, his eyes gleaming.

Several minutes later, Zan emerged from the ruins, alone. His task was completed, and now all that was left was to look forward to the next job. Due to his reputation, he rarely lacked for work; it was only a matter of time before another wealthy patron required his services.

Zan raised an eyebrow as a large, spherical shape emerged from the surrounding forest. A beholder, apparently, though one missing its central eye. Zan had had his fair share of experiences with their ilk, though usually not in open, forested areas. Smiling, the beholder floated a short distance away from the half-elf and gave him an appraising look with its eyestalks.

"Yarrick Zan? I have a proposition for you..."


----------



## Terenon

*Zan*

He showed us a cut scene in the game featuring Yarric Zan, but when we actually met him...well, lets just say he wasn't what we expected.


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## Grundar

In reading this chapter, i just realized what happened to the mage that Yarrick Zan brought to the ruins... hehe, lets just say all is not what it seems with Yarrick Zan.. Nice work GM!


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## ltclnlbrain

Grundar said:
			
		

> In reading this chapter, i just realized what happened to the mage that Yarrick Zan brought to the ruins... hehe, lets just say all is not what it seems with Yarrick Zan.. Nice work GM!




Heh, I'm glad you picked up on it, Grundar. It was very subtle, and you wouldn't be able to guess the mage's fate unless you knew Zan's true nature. All will be revealed in due time, faithful readers.


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## A'vandira Silvermane

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Heh, I'm glad you picked up on it, Grundar. It was very subtle, and you wouldn't be able to guess the mage's fate unless you knew Zan's true nature. All will be revealed in due time, faithful readers.



If I am allowed to make a guess it would be that Zan is not just a mere half-elf, but something more sinister not averse to feeding on living beings. Can't wait to see the veil being lifted from this mystery.
Otherwise it was once again a great update, leaving me yearning for more.


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## ltclnlbrain

Yearn no more, fair A'vandira! 

Chapter 19

As the sun fell behind the western horizon, the time of the party quickly approached. Terenon walked into the mage guild with his hair slicked back and trimmed. The stubble he had sported for the past few days was gone. A purple cape made from cashmere with a crimson silk lining was draped over his right shoulder, and a fine silk shirt with pearl buttons peeked out beneath his flowing crimson robe.

He walked through the halls with purpose, carrying a bouquet of rare tundric roses. The florist had told him that the white flowers gave off a frosty fruity scent. Once cut the flowers would soon die: it was only by minor magic that they stayed fresh.

The mage smiled brightly as he reached the door to Serrila’s chambers. Serrila greeted Terenon at the door, and the vision he was met with literally weakened his knees. The aasimar was dressed in a white shimmering silk dress that was tied behind her neck, leaving her back exposed. It dipped down in the front to a modest degree and from there clinged close to her body, accentuating her modest curves. Her silver hair was done up in elaborate braids, and she wore gold earrings and a necklace, as well as the ring Terenon had given her.

Terenon tried to say something, but he found that he had temporarily lost control of his vocal muscles. "I'd ask how I look, but judging by the expression on your face, I'd say pretty good," Serrila said, giggling. "Deirdriel helped me pick it out: she thought you'd like it."

“I do indeed,” replied Terenon. He presented the flowers to the sorceress with a flourish. “These are for you.”

Serrila gasped slightly as she saw the beautiful roses. She graciously accepted them, drawing in their scent before placing them in a vase on the nearby table. “They’re beautiful,” she said.

“Their beauty pales when compared to you,” replied Terenon, elicting a blush. “Are we ready?”

“We are,” said Serrila, taking the mage’s arm.

The two mages strode through the guild and out into the streets of Silverymoon. Grundar had told the group to meet him outside of a local tavern: he was keeping the location of the party hall a surprise until everybody arrived. 

Terenon seemed to walk taller with Serrila on his arm. He felt bigger somehow being seen with her. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. "The past weeks have been frantic,” he began. “You have helped us so much and I value your friendship more than gold. But I still know very little about you. Where you’re from. Your family...well, besides your brother. What your favorite color is?" The mage showed off his crimson robe. “I hope it's red," he said with a wink.

Serrila smiled at Terenon’s joke, then began to speak. "Well, my family was originally from Silverymoon, and that's where we grew up. My father traced his lineage back to a planetar, which is why Rumar and I show some celestial traits. It seems the bloodline is more prominent in my brother, which explains his wings and his more lawful inclinations. I manifested the magical nature of the celestials and found that the arcane arts came naturally to me."

"Our parents died when we were young, so Rumar took it upon himself to raise me and look after me. Once I was old enough to make it on my own, though, I joined an adventuring group called the Singing Blades. Rumar protested my leaving, saying that the life of an adventurer was dangerous and I'd only end up getting hurt, but I wouldn't hear of it. I enjoyed it so much up until a few weeks ago."

Serrila's expression grew sad as she reminisced. "We were heading back to Silverymoon from Nesme and had accepted a job to protect a caravan along the Surbrin Way. It was where we were heading anyway, and a few extra pieces of gold always come in handy. That was when...the ambush, and..." She abruptly stopped talking, wiping a tear from her eye. 

Terenon rubbed her arm to try to comfort her. It was truly tragic what happened to her companions; the mage thought that the sorceress was doing quite well in light of the horrors she had faced recently. “Sometimes its best to keep the past where it belongs,” he said softly.

Serrila nodded, then looked at Terenon. "It's your turn: what's your story?"

“I was born to two mages,” said Terenon. “My father and mother both live in Daggerdale. I have been immersed in the Craft since I was an infant. I can't remember another way of life. I felt oppressed by the shadow of accomplishment both my father and mother cast. I've strived to make a name for myself in the Realms. One day, I will return and my name will precede me. On that day, my father will finally be proud."

“You are a fine man, Terenon,” Serrila said, smiling. “You shouldn’t need to prove yourself to gain your father’s pride.”

The two walked a short while longer before reaching the tavern. Grundar stood outside, dressed in a nice pair of tight blackened leather pants and a ruffled white shirt with ruffled cuffs under a nice velvet jacket. His hair was neatly combed back, and he grinned rakishly as Serrila and Terenon approached. “You look splendid tonight, my lady,” he said as he took Serrila’s hand and gently kissed it.

A few minutes later, Allanon and Deirdriel arrived. Allanon was dressed in a dark blue robe and cloak with silver trim. His face was clean shaven and his wild mane of hair had been tamed by Deirdriel’s brush. The half-elf’s arm rested lightly on Allanon's. Deirdriel was wearing a long, deep green, silken dress that highlighted her flowing red hair and green eyes. Her lustrous hair shimmered in the lamplight, combed straight and let out long. Allanon smiled as he approached, then looked at Terenon approvingly. “It seems we both clean up nicely, eh?”

Terenon laughed. “Tell me about it. It took hours of scrubbing to get off all the grime I had accumulated.”

Lisa LaBurton followed closely behind Allanon and Deirdriel, clad in a simple black dress. Though her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her face was clean, the young girl shifted uncomfortably as she walked. Apparently, she was not used to such niceties; it wasn't too hard to imagine this was the first time that she had ever had to dress so formally.

"I hope you don't mind me bringing her along," said Deirdriel. "It didn't seem right to leave her alone in the tower."

“No problem at all,” said Grundar, smiling. “The more the merrier.”

Lisa smiled sheepishly as she adjusted her dress. "I don't mean to be a bother. I wanted to see more of Silverymoon. Are we really going to see the Moonbridge? Does it really glow with all the colors of the rainbow? Oh, Allanon, I've been looking over Deirdriel's spellbooks. They are so interesting! I can't wait until I'm able to be a great spellcaster like you! I'm still having trouble with this cantrip..."

Terenon laughed at Lisa’s youthful exuberance, then he looked toward Grundar. “Where are the others?” he asked.

The elf shrugged. “Rumar got here early and is already waiting over at the hall. I haven’t heard from Rhys or Jelani yet, though.”

“I’m sure they’ll be able to find the place. Let’s get started: the others can join us later,” said Terenon, casting an anxious glance toward Serrila.

Grundar grinned and nodded in understanding. “I see we're all dressed for the occasion,” he called out, getting everyone’s attention. “Good…we're going to have a great time tonight. If everyone is ready, we'll take a short walk from here to our private party. I've booked some great music and a feast for us all. Follow me, please.”

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

Jelani could have gotten to the party early…or at least on time. Even with preparing spells, it wouldn’t have been very hard to get to the tavern at the specified hour. Instead the follower of Akadi found his way atop the mage’s guild, amid quite a few stares. Even in a place dedicated to the use of magic, people were surprised when he flew past them to land onto the guild’s roof.

It was a welcome relief after what seemed like weeks of being stuck inside one building or another, and he took full advantage of both the breeze and his view of the city. It was really quite a nice place, from the top, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would look from underneath. These thoughts only lasted a few minutes, as he slowly felt himself drawn by the dancing of the breeze over the city…which was how he found himself wandering through the streets of Silverymoon; over half an hour late for the party. Not that he really cared; the party wasn’t going to end any earlier for him being late. He hadn’t even changed his adventuring gear, though he had taken just a few moments to clean up. He doubted anybody would say anything about it.

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

Grundar led the group through the streets of Silverymoon toward the banquet hall. Large globes filled with magical light illuminated the city as they went. After a few minutes, they reached the Moonbridge, and it definitely lived up to their expectations. By day, it was merely an invisible bridge of force, but under the light of the moon, it shimmered with a silvery translucence. They crossed the River Rauvin and entered the New City, where it was only a short walk until they reached the small marble building that housed the hall.

Rumar stood outside the hall in some sort of stiff “at attention” pose. He checked over the other’s to make sure nothing illegal or suspicious was brought inside. Not exactly the party type, the paladin contented himself with mostly starting straight ahead. As Serrila and Terenon passed by, however, he turned his head silently to watch them enter.

The hall was a modest affair, large enough to fit about twenty people comfortably, yet small enough to be discreet. A few elven minstrels struck up a tune on harps and violins, and a small cadre of halflings scurried about, ready with food and drinks.

Terenon glanced around the hall, then smiled and gave the thumbs-up to Grundar. The group seated themselves at a table and had a few hors d’oeuvres. As the music filled the air, though, Terenon turned to Serrila. “My lady, would you care to dance?”

“I’d love to,” the aasimar replied.

The two mages rose and made their way to the dance floor. As Terenon passed by Grundar, though, he leaned in close to the elf. “Since you’re both without a date, why don’t you escort Lisa tonight? I’m sure she’d be thrilled,” he whispered.

Grundar nodded and looked over to Lisa, who was still looking about uncomfortably. The elf gracefully rose to his feet and bowed with a flourish. “Lisa, I would be honored if you would allow me the pleasure of a dance.”

Lisa’s eyes widened, and a short giggle escaped her lips. Smiling and blushing, she rose and took Grundar’s hand. “I’d be delighted, sir,” she said.

The two took to the dance floor beside Serrila and Terenon, who stepped in turned in time with the music. The sorceress smiled at the wizard, her golden eyes twinkling. "I never properly thanked you for saving my life," she said. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come along. You have a noble heart, Terenon, despite what Rumar may think. I feel...safe around you. So I wanted to say thank you." Serrila leaned her head on Terenon's shoulder as the music swirled about them.

Terenon felt the warmth and softness of Serrila's body melt into his own. He gave a smile of contentment. "Spending time with you is thanks enough." The mage held her tighter and savored the moment. There were no plans, no future, just this, just now.

Meanwhile, Grundar was quite impressed with Lisa’s natural grace and agility. He spun the girl as they danced, smiling as she emerged in a graceful pose. “You’re quite the natural dancer,” the elf said.

Lisa flashed him a roguish grin. “You’ve got to be nimble when you’re trying to avoid the town guard,” she said.

Deirdriel cast an appraising glance at the mages dancing about. She graciously accepted a glass of champagne from the halfling waiter, taking a sip as she turned to Allanon. "It seems those two have hit it off quite nicely," she said. "They look like they're having fun. I remember a certain wild mage who used to cut quite the rug when we would go out."

“And due to my wild surges, the rug would usually animate and attack us,” Allanon replied.

Deirdriel smiled as she gave Allanon's shoulder a squeeze, then looked up as Rhys and Jelani wandered in. "You boys are late," she called. "Join us. Partake of the festivities. You've certainly earned it."

Rhys smiled as he saw the happy faces on his friends."Thanks Deirdriel. But I’m not late: it’s the rest of you guys who are early.” The priest smiled as he accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter. “I had some business at the temple to take care of, but I’m here now.” Rhys looked at the couples dancing, then turned to Jelani."Look at Serrila and Terenon. I wonder which one's actually casting a spell?"

Jelani grinned at Rhys’ comment. “It’s obviously the ladies who are casting the spells tonight, Rhys.” It seemed that the party had raised everyone’s mood, except for Rumar, but then Terenon was dancing with his sister. He picked a glass of the wine off of a tray and took a sip. “It looks like most everyone’s enjoying themselves. But I’m a bit worried about Rumar. I can understand how he might be a bit upset, but he’s not even trying to relax a bit. Everyone needs a break, even someone as…disciplined…as he is.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Allanon, shrugging. “He probably just wants some time to himself. Don’t let his attitude spoil your fun, though. It’s a party!”

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

Rumar stood outside the hall, keeping watch for anything unsavory. Granted, he didn't really expect anything unsavory to wander by, he just was not the party type. He was somewhat surprised, then, when a man turned around the corner and made his way toward him. The man was well-kempt and unremarkable, save for a crooked nose that dominated his face. He carried four large sacks that jingled with the sound of coins as he walked. The man stopped a few paces from Rumar and gave the aasmiar and appraising look. Then, in a nasal voice, he asked, "Was this hall rented by an elf named Grundar?"

"Yes, it was," Rumar replied after a moment for contemplation of his options. He had more than a few questions for the man as to what was going on; truth be told though, he couldn't think of a good way to phrase any of them that didn't end up sounding irritatingly servile. At any other time, Rumar probably would have just swallowed his pride and assumed the role of doorman for this little event. However, the aasimar was finding that a little hard to do, what with Grundar and Terenon having propelled him into a near perpetual state of anger already. "In, uh, there," Rumar added lamely, trying to remain focused. It was never good to let his emotions run away with him, especially not with a suspicious man lurking in front of him. "Follow me."

Inside, Allanon was entertaining the group with a few parlor tricks. Grundar had gone to the bar to get a drink, but when he turned around, he saw Rumar entering with the unfamiliar man in tow. Rumar caught his gaze and nodded, and the elf quickly made his way over to them. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

The man glanced about the hall, then nodded. "Guess this is the right place. These are for you." The man tossed the bags at Grundar's feet. Opening them up, the elf could see that there were numerous platinum pieces in each one. "A reward for a job well done. Compliments of Merik Thornridge. He trusts that his business with you is concluded. Have an enjoyable evening." The man flashed a crooked smile before walking out.

Lisa's eyes widened at the sight of the money and she scurried up behind Grundar, peering around him. "Geez, people just seem to throw money at you guys! No wonder you can afford such a swank party. I guess some people are just luckier than others," she concluded a bit sullenly.

“Merik Thornridge?” asked Rumar.

“Merik was our original employer,” said Grundar. “It seems he has gotten wind of our achievements.”

Ternon stopped dancing at the sound of Merik Thornridge's name. He glanced at Serrila with a saddened look. "He knows. Dammit, how did he find out?" The mage went to one of the tables and sat down. He grabbed a glass of wine and sipped it thoughtfully. "We knew it had to happen sooner or later. I was hoping for later."

Serrila sat next to Terenon, a look of confusion on her face. “But wasn’t Thornridge one of the Acolyte’s pawns? Why would he pay you for destroying his masters? Besides, the real Thornridge was replaced by a simulacrum, so he wouldn't have any free will of his own. Something doesn't seem right here."

Terenon put his hand on Serrila's. "You’re right. The simulacrum must have been taken over by agents of Acessiwal, the white wyrm. That’s the reason we were chosen to go on the investigation. Acessiwal suspected that we would be able to avoid the trap of the Acolytes and destroy them. Thornridge paying us means Acessiwal knows the Acolytes are no more. There is nothing to stand in his way. I was hoping for more time."

Grundar sighed. “It looks like the party’s over then. We need to take a few days to plan our next move.”

“Damn," said Deirdriel wryly, "just when the party was about to get good. Seriously though, I think it's time I reported to Lady Alustriel. She might have some knowledge of this dragon and what sort of a threat he poses. At the very least I can make her aware of the situation so that she can start putting resources behind defense, if necessary. You guys should finish your business in the ruins. When you get back, hopefully I will have more information for you. At any rate, there's not much we can do tonight. Why not just enjoy the party?"

Terenon looked up at Deirdriel and gave her a subdued smile. "Yes. There is little we can do about it tonight." The mage walked over to the mucisians and told them to play something upbeat. He walked over to Serrila and extended his hand. "Let's enjoy the night and worry later."

Rumar's eyes flickered down to the discarded sacks of coins as the others talked of just what they were for. Regardless, they meant nothing to him; turning about, he headed back out of the hall. However, he did not stop and resume his place standing near the entrance. Instead, Rumar continued walking stiffly onward, grinding his back teeth as he went.

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

Rumar wandered through the streets of Silverymoon, grumbling to himself. Seeing his sister and Terenon together grated on his last nerves, and he needed to get away for a while to clear his head. He meandered about, not really paying attention to where he was going. Dark alleys didn't really scare him thanks to his darkvision as well as the unshakeable resolve that comes part and parcel with being a paladin.

A whisper of movement behind the aasimar caught his attention. He whirled about, his hand going to his sword, but there was nothing there. Sighing, he turned back around and continued on. However, a few seconds later, the noise came again, this time from around a corner. And was that a small shape that just darted out of his line of sight?

“If there is someone out there," Rumar called out loudly, unsheathing his sword but leaving it at his side, "I ask that you approach me now, rather than shadow my steps any longer."

When Rumar called out, a soft growling noise came from where the figure darted to. A sound like the scratching of claws on cobblestones started up, seeming to slowly come closer. The growling noise increased in volume until the creature that was making it was just around the corner. Suddenly, a blur of movement leapt into the alleyway--

--and revealed itself as a stray dog, mangy and flea-bitten, scavenging for a meal. It had just snatched up a rat in its jaws and turned its head to look at Rumar. It stared for a few seconds before whimpering and running away, tail between its legs.

Rumar watched as the dog ran away, feeling rather foolish and more than a little ashamed to boot. "Not a word, Pergium," he muttered as he slid the sword back into its sheathe. "Not a word." With a sigh, Rumar headed off in the direction the dog went. Maybe he could catch it and take it to an appropriate temple; if he didn't, he knew he was going to feel bad about it all night long. "Even the lowest of the low do not deserve to live in such conditions..."

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

The party had begun to wind down. The halflings brought out a large tray of desserts, ranging from chocolate eclairs to key lime pie to strawberries and cream. The bards began to pack up their instruments and clean the stage area.

While Serrila and Terenon danced, Allanon, Deirdriel, Grundar, and Rhys continued the discussion about the next step to take. Lisa soon grew disinterested with all the talk about dragons and beholders and simul-whatsits, turning her attention back to the large sacks of platinum pieces. She acted nonchalant as she moved about the room, picking up some hors d'oeuvres here, a sip of wine there, all the while slowly making her way closer to the money. Surely they wouldn't notice a few coins missing from the piles, would they?

Jelani sat back and listened to the others ‘discuss’ the matter. If they were right, then the dragon knew and there was little they could do about it. If they were wrong, then someone was definitely messing with their minds, a concept that he found more than a little amusing. As a matter of fact, this whole situation made for a lot more entertainment than he’d previously expected for this party, right down to the girl trying to sneak some coins right in front of everyone’s faces. He took a couple of desserts from the tray and wandered over to where Lisa was ‘sneaking’ toward the sacks. “You should try the key lime pie,” he said softly, “It’s quite good.”

Lisa looked up abruptly, startled by Jelani's approach. She blushed and glanced about nervously, but the others hadn't seemed to notice. "Oh, um, is it? I planned on getting some in a few minutes, but now that you mention it, I think I'll take a slice myself. Heh." She smiled sheepishly and scurried over to the dessert bar.

Terenon did his best not to think about anything. He was always thinking and he needed a break, even if it was for just one night. The mood had dropped some from it's elevated postition, but the wine seemed to keep it from lowering further. He appraised Serrila with an affectionate eye. He moved in close and whispered in her ear. "I wanted to walk with you in the park. I don't want to go to my room right now. This night has passed too quickly; I wish to stay in your company."

"And I yours," Serrila replied. "I don't think they'll miss us too much here. We should probably get going before Rumar comes back, though. I daresay he wouldn't approve." She flashed Terenon a dazzling smile.

Terenon stood and lent his hand to Serrila. He turned to the others. "A great party Grundar. Thanks. And to all of you. Serrila and I are going to retire. I will see you tomorrow." 

The mage escorted his date to the door and opened it for her. They stepedp out into the night. A breeze had picked up and had made the night air chilly. Terenon smiled at Serrila and removed his cape with a flourish. He draped the cape over Serrila's shoulders and put his arm around her waist.

Serrila smiled at Terenon's ostentatious act of chivalry as she walked beside him. It had been quite a long time since anybody had made her feel as special as he did, and she snuggled closer to him. They shared the silence between them, each mage taking pleasure in the other's presence.

When Terenon stopped walking, Serrila knew what was coming. She stared deeply into his eyes, her golden orbs watching his brown ones. Despite the chill, the aasimar felt a warmth rising behind her cheeks. When he leaned in, she did not pull away.

Their lips met, and suddenly the world exploded into color and light, the smell of perfume, the sound of a heavenly choir! Pure bliss coursed through their veins, the world whirled on its axis like a top gone mad! An eternity was not long enough for this feeling to last! Serrila reveled in the sensation, crushing Terenon's lips with her own, pulling him into a passionate embrace, her body melting into his. She pulled away briefly, whispering, "We didn't even get to the park yet." Giggling, she plunged back in.

Terenon’s eyes swam to regain focus. A broad grin spread across his face. "That was...ah...oh my. Suddenly the park doesn't interest me...you want to continue our...ah...walk in private."

"Of course," Serrila replied wryly. "Would you like to teleport or should we just walk?"

Terenon arched an eyebrow and spoke a few words of power. In a flash of light, the two mages disappeared.


----------



## Terenon

*Memories*

Ahh..That was a great party. Re-reading it brings back fond memories.


----------



## Jelani

Yes it was, surprisingly good everything considered...

And I see some foolish person think's I'm their favorite character; careful, that's mighty powerful insanity you've got there.


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## A'vandira Silvermane

*Praise be to ltclnlbrain*



			
				ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Yearn no more, fair A'vandira!



How can I not yearn anymore, ltclnlbrain?
Another great update slakes my thirst, but once through leaves me aching for more once again.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

A'vandira Silvermane said:
			
		

> How can I not yearn anymore, ltclnlbrain?
> Another great update slakes my thirst, but once through leaves me aching for more once again.




Your aches shall be alleviated soon, dear lady, with a healthy dose of an update. It's good for what ails you. We're nearing the end of the adventure now: only two more chapters left. But fear not! There are still a few more updates after the adventure until we catch up to where the party is now. Once we catch do, updates will be shorter and perhaps once a week, but there still will be updates. I'll also occasionally post up some goodies like player character's statistics, plans for the story did I decided to scrap or modify, and other things, so stay tuned.


----------



## Terenon

*Serrila*

Roleplaying the romance between Terenon and Serrila was fun, but not half as fun as seeing Rumar roleplay his disdain for Terenon. It becomes a constant irritation to the paladin and the resulting friction makes the game all the more fun.


----------



## Gramcrackered

Terenon said:
			
		

> Roleplaying the romance between Terenon and Serrila was fun, but not half as fun as seeing Rumar roleplay his disdain for Terenon. It becomes a constant irritation to the paladin and the resulting friction makes the game all the more fun.




Oh.  Right.  Sure.
*silently pops a few antacids*


----------



## ltclnlbrain

My Internet connection has been down the past few days, so I have not been able to work on an update. I will get one up as soon as possible. A preview for Chapter 20, to build the anticipation:

The party battles the legendary Beast of Nine Flames.

The party has a run-in with the mysterious Yarrick Zan.

The party confronts the dreaded Firebringer himself!

Stay tuned!


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## A'vandira Silvermane

> Stay tuned!



You can bet on me staying tuned to this StoryHour.
And it was my pleasure to do some pimping of it in JollyDoc's SH.  
Good stories need to have as many readers as can be gathered into the ranks


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## ltclnlbrain

Double post.


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## ltclnlbrain

I haven't had much time lately to post, so I'll give you a small update tonight to satisfy you until I can get the full chapter up.


Interlude

Helios hurried up the magnificent double revolving staircase, holding up the hem of his black robe so as not to trip on it. Normally he took time to appreciate this marvelous bit of architecture, two independently built staircases that spiral around each other like a helix, but he didn't have time now. He was late, and his master hated when he was late.

_It's not like it's my fault,_ the wizard thought bitterly. _If that blasted mephit had bothered to tell me about the meeting before it had started, I wouldn't be in this mess._ His mind filled with creative means of torturing the little outsider if he ever got the chance, Helios crested the last few steps into the cavern above.

The vast icy cavern stretched out all around the wizard, its dark, serrated walls glittering menacingly. In the deeper reaches of the cavern, the smooth polished floor broke into multiple tiers, separated by precarious jagged walls. Thick glacial ice coated every surface, icicles dangled from every overhang, and a cold fog permeated the cavern.

The floor rumbled as his master approached, and the mage prostrated himself on the ground. Prone as he was, Helios looked truly tiny compared to the enormous dragon that stood before him. The dragon had a beaked nose, spiny dewlaps, and a crest supported by a single, back-curving spine. A crisp, faintly chemical odor accompanied the dragon, whose scales glistened like snow. From the end of its nose to the tip of its tail, the creature must have been over one hundred fifty feet long, with a wingspan of nearly seventy-five feet. It glared down imperiously at the man, then spoke in a voice that reverberated off the walls of the cavern.

*"You're late."*

"My lord Acessiwal," Helios began, swallowing the lump in his throat, "forgive me. There was a communication problem with the mephit sent to fetch me. I arrived as soon as I found out."

The dragon snorted out a blast of freezing air from its nostrils. *"Apology accepted. Don't let it happen again. Join the others and we will catch you up on what you missed."*

Helios rose shakily to his feet, thankful the great wyrm didn't simply crush him where he stood. Scurrying around the massive dragon's form, he approached Acessiwal's other consultants. The first one was a white half-dragon clad in full plate and a fur-lined cloak. Helios sneered at this creature, and the half-dragon smiled knowingly. _Samakel,_ the wizard thought, _favored son of Acessiwal. He's probably the one who told the mephit to make me late. The sniveling coward will never admit to it, though._

He then turned to the other creature here, still unused to her presence. The creature was a large, otherworldly entity that appeared to be an attractive human female with six arms--at least from her head to her waist. From the waist down, the creature had the body of a massive snake with green, scaly coils. It had cost Helios much to bring this powerful demon here, but if Acessiwal could convince her to lend her master's forces when he made his bid for power, it would be worth it. 

"Glad you could join us, Helios," said Samakel, disdain evident in his voice. "As I was saying, our forces have finally broken the frost giants' will and they are currently scattering across the tundra. Unfortunately, we suffered heavy losses during the siege. The bulk of the remaining army is in pursuit of the giants to make sure they are not able to regroup and launch a counterassault, but we will not have enough strength to attack Silverymoon for several months."

"Any news of your wayward brother?" the great wyrm rumbled.

Samakel shook his head. "No my lord, he fled from us after he declined your offer. I'm afraid we have been unable to locate him since."

*"This news displeases me," * Acessiwal rumbled, and Helios was satisfied to see Samakel cringe before his father's wrath. _Not so snide now, are you?_ he thought to himself. *"However," * the dragon continued, *"if Graz'zt agrees to the alliance, our ranks will swell with Abyssal hordes large enough to facilitate the attack." * The dragon swung its massive head toward the snake-woman. *"What does your master think of this, Akasa?"*

The snake-woman crossed her middle arms across her chest, her lower arms clasped before her and her upper arms absently brushing her crimson hair. "The Dark One still does not feel satisfied that you possess enough strength to be successful, Acessiwal," Akasa said casually. "Such a commitment of troops away from the Blood War may be disastrous to his holdings in the Abyss."

The great wyrm roared in rage, leaning dangerously close to the demon. *"I will prove to your master that I am worthy of his aid. Once the frost giants are eliminated, he will have no choice but to recognize my power." * 

The dragon's breath buffeted Akasa's hair around her head, but she seems unimpressed. "Let me know when you eliminate the giants, then."

Before Acessiwal allowed his rage to get the better of his intellect, Helios interjected. "My lord, I do have some news that might please you." The great dragon pulled away from the demon and inclined its head toward the wizard. Puffing his chest out, the wizard delivered his report. "My lord, the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame have been wiped out. The High Conflagration and the Flame Lords are dead, and Bazim-Gorag himself will fall within the week."

Samakel stepped forward in surprise. "I don't believe it. The adventurers were able to succeed?"

"Yes," said Helios cheerfully, "and without any risk to any of our forces. They did all the work for us. A much better result tha what would have occurred had we gone with your idea."

Samakel bristled at the barb, but his master cut him off before he could reply. *"It was a good plan, Helios," * Acessiwal said. Samakel growled deep in his throat, and Helios imagined that he could see steam rising off of his scaled forehead. Helios smiled inwardly at Samakel's irritation, glad that he had regained his master's favor. *"However, if these adventurers are as crafty as you have made them out to be, they may have found out too much. They may be able to deduce the true situation behind their hiring and come here."*

"Do not fear, my lord," said Helios. "Many of their ilk are motivated by money, so I have arranged a hefty payment that should keep them satisfied long enough for us to launch our assault. If they still decide to press their luck, my...creations...should be sufficient to deal with them."

*"And what of the girl?" * asked Acessiwal.

"She is still of use to me," the wizard replied. "But once her purpose is complete, she will be disposed of."


----------



## xenoflare

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Well, now that I've spoiled all of you with updates every day, I'm afraid new chapters will be coming a bit more slowly the rest of this week.  It's final exam time, and unfortunately studying takes precedence over updating the story hour.  Here's a little preview of Chapter 5 to heighten your anticipation:
> 
> The adventurers explore the forbidden building, a new member joins the party, and an old member kicks the bucket.  Who will it be?  Who. I ask?  Stay tuned to find out!




haha! we had a run-in with Moskoog too, and it went nearly the same way - the psion scried him, and everyone teleported in and killed him in 2 rounds. That made our DM pissed off with scry/ fry (was our first try with such things) and we sorta made a tacit agreement never ever to do that again. -doo de doo-

great job!

Yours,
shao


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Whew, another long update. Enjoy!

Chapter 20

As the days grew closer to returning to the ruins, Terenon became more withdrawn. He tried to think of what the next move would be and what spells were needed to confront the Firebringer himself. The time spent with Serrila was the saving grace to his work. She gave him sanctuary that he found hard to leave. He cared for her, but the relationship distracted him from other important musings. He did his best to balance his feelings.

Finally, after about a week, the time came to meet back up with the others. As he descended the stairs into the inn’s common room, he caught the eye of Rumar, who was sitting at a nearby table. The paladin had been the recommon room since before dawn, carefully checking each strap and plate of his armor. Only once each section met his careful scrutiny did he switch to running a rag over its surface, buffing it all to a healthy shine. He gave a near inaudible grunt as Terenon entered and a slight dip of his shaved head but remained focused on his task.

Terenon sat across from Rumar and settled into an uncomfortable silence. The mage knew that the paladin did not approve of his relationship with Serrila, but thus far neither had them had really come out into the open about it. Terenon decided that now was definitely not the time to do so, and thus the silence persisted until the other four adventurers joined them at the table. Once everybody had settled in, the group began to discuss what to do next.

"I believe we should confront the beholder now,” said Terenon. “He has promised us a reward for removing the Acolytes, and I believe he will reward us. Interrogating the beholder would be preferable. However I don't want to tip our hand about our knowledge of the dragon. We must come up with a plan of action. I believe we can defeat him should it come to a fight, but the information he may have is more important. Suggestions?"

“We might just try and ask the beholder what it knows about the situation,” said Jelani. “It might be quite cooperative given that if we leave it alone, it’s going to be one of the most powerful beings in the area. Of course the dragon’s plans will change that, so it has some incentive to work with us. There are spells that should let me tell if it’s lying to us or not, and if all else fails we can just speak to it’s corpse. Before we do anything, though, might we find out if this creature’s missing central eye gives it some sort of advantage? Also it would be nice to know if it is indeed in collusion with the dragon.”

Terenon mulled over Jelani’s words. “Yes, the central eye had given me pause as well. I do know that others of its kind have a beam that emanates from the central eye. The beam disrupts the weave; essentially it is a cone of anti-magic. What if this beholder sees anti-magic as a disadvantage? I say we trap it with what it fears worst. Erect an anti-magic shell around it and intimidate the truth from it. This type of plan would require the spell be ready. Unless someone has it available, perhaps the first order of business today should be the Hydra. I scryed on the beholder earlier, and it seems content with reading its tomes. I don't believe he will be going anywhere soon."

“Perhaps we should go after the dragon first,” said Rhys. “If we were hired by the dragon to weaken the Acolytes, then we've been too successful and represent a possible thorn in its plans. The dragon wouldn't expect us to come after it and we're at our strongest now. We eliminate the dragon and deal with the others later.”

Jelani sighed. “If, if, if, if, if” he snorted. “And if birds were bears they couldn’t fly. You people are like a dog with a bone. What part of, ‘The beholder may or may not be working for the dragon’ is so hard for you people to grasp? If you can’t count the number of times you’ve been wrong about something on one hand, you can’t afford to just assume things.”

“Why don't we just kill them all?" asked Grundar, smirking. “I think for now we should just get rid of the hydra and find the staff of the ar-magus. I think we shouldn't get rid of the Firebringer yet, however. Since we have the ritual of unbinding, and if we get the staff, we are in fact capable of unleashing the Firebringer as well. We can persuade Philosten if we have to. Then we just need a chaotic aligned spellcaster. I would prefer not to do that, since we're bound by our oaths to slay the slaad lord, but we have him as a possible weapon if we desperately need it. We should keep our options open.”

"If you decide to unleash the Firebringer as some sort of 'weapon' against your other foes," Rumar said quietly, pulling a strap on his armor tight as he readjusted it to his body, "you had better be planning on killing me first. I will not stand by and allow an evil of that caliber let loose, regardless of what that requires on my part."

“I don’t want to release him,” Grundar added quickly, “I’m just laying out all the options here. Between a slaad lord and a dragon, I’d much rather fight the frog.”

"Rationalize it how you will. I will not risk accidentally unleashing an evil upon the cosmos simply because you are frightened or because you underestimate how powerful this slaad lord truly is." Though Rumar scarcely appeared to be paying attention to Grundar as he said this, the feeling in his words was obvious.

Jelani glanced at Rumar. “We may have to actually release the Firebringer anyway in order to destroy it, and risk is a part of every action. Tell me Rumar, what is it in your past that makes you presume the absolute worst of everyone?”

"Why?" Rumar said, turning towards Jelani, true anger flashing on his face. "I believe his exact words were that he'd prefer not to do it, but that the Firebringer could be potentially used as a weapon. A weapon!" the paladin continued, slamming another piece of armor on. "He would honestly have us wait until later to do our duty so that we have the option of unleashing a Slaad Lord. A Slaad Lord who would be capable of wreaking destruction on a scale we can scarcely comprehend! And all because Grundar is afraid to face the dragon! I have nothing against releasing this 'Firebringer' with plans to immediately slay him - if that is the best way to handle it. But I _will not_ allow him freed because Grundar sees some sort of tactical advantage in directing him against someone else!"

"Let us remained focused on what our true tasks are, and not get bogged down in petty arguments,” said Terenon, trying to defuse the situation. “We just should be aware of the dragon and his plans. I doubt he knows that we know of him, otherwise the payment would not have been made. We are to think that we fulfilled our contract and nothing is out of the ordinary. I hate to admit it, but I have to agree with Rumar. We have sworn an oath to take care that the Firebringer will not leave its prison alive. I will not deviate from that goal. Let us concentrate on the Hydra today, and worry about the rest later."

“Fine,” said Grundar, letting the argument drop. “Let’s get going then.”

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

With a flash of light, the party appeared at the very bottom of the Well of Stars. Motes of light drifted lazily about the ceiling, and two sets of bronze doors led west and east out of the chamber. Grundar checked the western doors for traps before pulling them open. The pale green stone floor of the room beyond was decorated with a dark metal inlay. The design consisted of a circle intersected by smaller half-circles. In the north wall was a blank archway of stone inscribed with strange-looking runes. The entire room was finished in the same pale emerald stone as the floor, mottled with pink and white in spots.

Terenon cautiously stepped into the room and examined the diagrams. “Cold iron inlays…wards against chaos… This must have been the chamber where the calling and binding of the Firebringer took place. That blank archway just leads to a wall of stone. Perhaps it was used in part of a ritual?”

Grundar moved over to the archway and retrieved a small magnifying lens from his pack. He tapped it in a certain way and it began glowing faintly. He moved it over the wall to make sure nothing was hidden behind it. Satisfied, he turned to the others and shrugged. “Nothing here. Let’s try the other doors.”

The eastern doors were hot to the touch, but again Grundar found no traps on them. A blast of scalding wind and heat greeted the elf as he opened the door, but Jelani had warded the entire group against fire, and it felt like little more than a light summer breeze on his skin. Beyond the double bronze doors laid an immense natural cavern filled with bubbling lava and illuminated by its angry red glare. The air in here was as hot as a blazing forge, and the sizzling and bubbling of lava was noisy enough to make speech difficult. 

Islands of solid, flat-topped stone rose from the bubbling lava here and there, forming a difficult path to the north and another to the south. In the southern portion of the room, the stepping-stones curved out of sight, but in the northern section, they led to a ledge and a broken door. In front of the door laid a hulking, red-scaled monstrosity with nine serpentine heads. Its necks writhed and coiled, and its mouths hissed in constant agitation. Nine sets of eyes glared at the adventurers as they entered with undisguised malice.

Wasting no time, Jelani sent a large ball of sonic energy hurtling toward the hydra. It struck the creature dead-on, and its nine heads howled in pain and rage.

Beating his feathery wings and stirring up the hot air around him, Rumar took flight and began flapping over to the beast. The damage done to its body starting to heal before his eyes, the hydra heaved its massive bulk off the ground and dove into the lava. It swam through the river toward Rumar, then it sent a jet of flame from each of its mouths toward the paladin. Fortunately for him, the energy protection prevented him from getting hurt.

Grundar drew his longbow and sent three arrows sailing toward the beast. The first one sunk into its massive body, though it didn't even seem to faze it. The successive arrows splashed harmlessly into the lava around it.

Thinking along the same lines as Jelani, Terenon sent another ball of sonic energy at the creature, though as it was partially submerged in the lava, the thing was able to dodge out of the way and take less damage. Allanon followed up that attack with a blast of chain lightning that struck the hydra despite its cover, causing the smell of charred flesh and the thing's screams of pain to fill the chamber.

An idea slowly formed in Terenon’s mind. “Everybody hold your actions,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.” The mage began floating through the air toward the nine-headed beast. Meanwhile, the creature swam closer to the aasimar and lashed out with nine sets of snapping jaws. Rumar did a valiant job of parrying the dangerous teeth away with sword and shield, but one head managed to land a solid blow on the paladin. He felt a virulent poison coursing through his veins after the bite, but he was able to resist its effects.

Eager to prove himself, Rhys sent two sling bullets sailing at the monstrosity. The first beamed the creature right between one set of eyes, and that head thrashed about in pain as a large welt appeared on it. The second bullet splashed harmlessly in the lava.

Determined to put an even quicker end to this battle, Terenon flew a few feet towards the beast before unleashing a new spell he had recently learned, a spell that allowed him to sequence several spells together and cast them all at once. A dozen rays of pure sonic energy sailed toward the hydra and, while the first missed the beast, the remaining eleven slammed into its heads and body, battering the creature with destructive concussive force. Blood exploded from nearly a dozen wounds as the creature's heads convulsed in agony, and the lights in its eyes went out as the necks collapsed. The nine heads struck the lava, sending chunks of it into the air, and after a few seconds, the entire hydra sunk beneath the surface.

Allanon stared in open-mouthed disbelief as the hydra was torn apart. “You’ve got to teach me how to do that!” he cried.

Grundar smiled and looked around the corner. “Way to go! Can somebody check around the southern bend?” Rumar signaled that he would oblige and flew off to investigate.

Terenon started to reply when a slight movement near the ceiling caught his eye. Before the fight, he had cast a spell that would reveal invisible creatures and see through magical disguises, and so he saw what the others couldn’t. A figure in a tight black body suit floated near the rocky stalactites, slowly making its way hand-over-hand toward the group. The creature was vaguely humanoid, but its head was a terror to behold. It resembled a mauve octopus, with four long tentacles and white pupil-less eyes. A mind flayer.

Realizing that he had spotted, the illithid suddenly seemed to meld into the shadows and disappeared from sight. Terenon frowned as he considered this, but then things began to fall into place. An illithid dressed like an adventurer with the ability to meld into shadows. He had to be…

“Yarrick,” the mage called out in a singsong voice. “Yarrick Zan. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He smiled knowingly and looked around. “Yes, we know who you are. Your employers are dead, and you have lost the element of surprise and anonymity. Show yourself so we can talk. We have no quarrel with you, unless you make one."

A few moments of tense silence passed, then suddenly the others could see a black-clad man drop from the ceiling to land in a graceful crouch on one of the stone islands close to them. He appeared as a nondescript half-elf, but Terenon and Jelani (who also had cast the same spell) could see through the disguise. Zan regarded them coolly, but his lips (tentacles) twitched in agitation.

"Adventurers," he began. " It may sound cliché, but if I wanted to kill you, you all would be dead by now. My only concern is to retrieve the scepter of the ar-magus for my employer."

Jelani shrugged. “There’s no reason that can’t work out. We don’t really want the scepter, but we can’t let it go anywhere until we’ve dealt with the creature that it releases. If you don’t mind waiting a bit, there should be no problem.”

"You would part with it so easily,” said Zan, “but the difficult part will be retrieving it. If you believe you can take on the slaad lord and live, then by all means, you're welcome to try. But I cannot rely on you alone. While you distract the slaad, I will sneak by and take the scepter. Then you will not hear from me again."

"If the Firebringer is even twice as hard as the hydra Terenon just sunk, we'd hardly break a sweat,” said Grundar cockily. “Now, what would your employer need with the scepter of the ar-magus anyway? Are you saying that the scepter is being held by the Firebringer?"

Zan nodded. “It currently rests atop the Firebringer's hoard. The Acolytes discovered it in the crypt long ago and gave it to the slaad lord to keep it safe until the ritual could be performed. The scepter is a powerful magical item in its own right, and it is essential to perform the rite of unbinding. Suffice it to say that my employer lacks confidence in your ability to defeat the slaad lord and has entrusted me to retrieve the scepter so that, even were you to fail, the Firebringer could not be released."

"So the Firebringer lies past that door?" Grundar pointed with the end of his bow.

“Yes, that is the broken seal that leads to Bazim-Gorag’s hedged gaol,” Zan said irritably. “I pray that Cyric watches over you this day if you truly plan on fighting him.”

Terenon listened to the mind flayer spout his intentions. He could barely believe the honesty. "You have been straight forward with us, so I will be the same with you. You may join us in the battle, but will not steal away with the scepter until the slaad is destroyed. I promise safe passage with it, but only if you join in the battle. Are these terms acceptable?"

"I am not suicidal. I will not join in a hopeless battle. If you wish, I will wait until after the battle is over before I take the scepter, so that if you do survive, you can verify that I take nothing else. But you will have to defeat the slaad lord on your own."

Terenon nodded. "Whether we succeed or fail, you will wait until after the battle. If we succeed, taking the scepter will be no risk to you. If we succeed, we will allow you to take the scepter and do with it what you wish. The only payment we request is the name of your employer. Are these terms acceptable?”

“Very well. I will await the outcome of the battle at the base of the Well of Stars.” Zan bowed slightly, then nimbly leaped across the islands in the lava river to the bronze doors.

“We should probably rest before we fight the Firebringer,” said Terenon. “Let’s take a look around his prison first.”

Terenon, Grundar, Allanon, Jelani, and Rhys stepped through the broken seal. Around the corner, Rumar examined a set of false doors, forgotten by the others…

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

Apparently, a massive stone door once stood at the north end of the lava cavern, blocking a passage of worked stone. But judging from the huge chunks of rune-scribed rubble that littered the floor, someone must have destroyed it long ago.

The passageway beyond the door was made of dressed stone covered in plaster, which was painted with scenes of fire and destruction, including erupting volcanoes and burning cities. One particularly awful set of frescoes depicted an unusual form of human sacrifice, in which the victim was chained inside a stone mold, which was then filled with molten lava.

The passage ended in a strange, 10-foot tall arch of red stones, each scribed with runes in geometric shapes. Beyond the archway laid a magnificent hall, with walls made of rough red granite and floors finished in polished red marble veined with gold. Four gleaming pillars of the same red marble supported a vaulted ceiling 40 feet high.

In the center of the room, a square pool of lava seethed sluggishly, illuminating the room with red light. A heap of blackened bones and slag-fouled chains laid near the pool of lava. At the end of the room, opposite the archway, stood a smooth black mirror worked in the shape of another doorway.

The black mirror at the far end of the room suddenly seemed to ripple strangely, and a tall human stepped through. He carried a glaive wreathed in black flame, and his hair was a brilliant shock of red and orange. His skin was a dark, ruddy shade of bronze, and his red eyes almost seemed to glow. "We've been waiting for you," he said in a voice that changed pitch in mid-sentence. "We have watched your progress. Consent to assist us in escaping from the bonds of ancient treachery, and we will reward you richly indeed."

There could be no doubt. This was the Firebringer.

The others standing at the ready, Terenon gave a slight bow to the strange-looking human. "Bazim-Gorag. You have been observing us from your prison. For how long I wonder?” Terenon backed away from the Firebringer unconsciously. "If you have watched us, then you know we cannot consent to release you. It is not an option."

Bazim-Gorag smiled toothily. "We know where your moral outlook lies," he said, "but you have been working under false assumptions. You have not heard _our_ side of the story. We were unjustly imprisoned here by the ancient wizards of Selskar because _they_ refused to live up to the bargain they'd made with us. We did out part, slaughtering the trolls and orcs of Harska Thaug's army. But were the Selskaryn grateful for what we did? No! They would not meet the agreed upon price and locked me in this forsaken prisoner for centuries. Releasing us would only be righting an ancient wrong."

Terenon’s disapproving look soon changed to one of curiosity. "It's true that the Selskaryn were an evil people, and I have no doubt that they would have done such a thing. Tell me this. What price was too high for the Selskaryn to pay that they would go to such lengths to keep you bound here?”

"The price was simple enough. A permanent gate to the Ever-Changing Chaos of Limbo was to be opened within the Selskar Vale. From there, we slaadi could establish a significant horde on this world from which we could spread chaos across the Realms. Apparently, our goals did not 'mesh' well with those of the Ar-Magus Ilviroon, and he confined us here." Basim-Gorag's expression turned sad. "That was a long time ago, and now all we desire is our freedom from this cursed gaol. Surely this is not too much to ask?"

Terenon mulled over what the slaad had said. It would seem that imprisonment had tempered its taste for vengeance, if it could be believed. The very nature of slaadi made them unreliable. What he said might have been true at the moment, but in five minutes it might change. Bonding such a beast to its word would be difficult.

"So, if I understand you correctly, you only want to return home to Limbo. I am not unsympathetic to your request, but what guarantee do we have that you will fulfill your promise? My word is my bond. I have already given it. I vowed that you would not leave this prison alive. We must have some assurances. If your body was brought back to Limbo dead, could it be resurrected? It would allow me to keep my vow and you would be free of your prison and able to reign in Limbo."

"You will get no assurance of our veracity," Bazim-Gorag growled. "Living or dead, we cannot leave this prison until the rite of unbinding is performed. We have heard tales of powerful outsiders returning from death, but it is extremely difficult and highly unlikely that we would return. At any rate, we will not stand idly by and allow you to kill us. Since you have 'vowed' to not let us leave here alive, we cannot take any chances. Once you all have been reduced to ash, it will only be a matter of time before we can attract a new brood of Acolytes. It is time for you to burn."

With that, the Firebringer surrounded himself in a fiery aura and raises his glaive into a battle stance.

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

Humming quietly to himself, Rumar flew about the fake door, trying to figure out it's purpose. "Maybe if I pull on this?" he muttered, feeling about with groping hands. "No? Hmmmm...well...there must be some reason it's here..."


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## Grundar

Ugh, i hate Yarrick..  I'm going to have my Thri-kreen illithid slayer go after him some day.

Anyway, reading this chapter makes me smile as the entire group basically forgot about Rumar as he flies of to the other side of the room..

If we had remembered about him, perhaps the outcome would have been a little better?

It was at this point, where we saw the awesome combo of simbul's spell sequencer + scorching ray. Too bad, it got nerfed later eh?


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## Graywolf-ELM

""Truth be told," he continued sheepishly, "I mighta been a bit confused as to the mage's intent back there when we first spotted the giant. Sorta expected the thing to explode into bits when he finished casting his first spell.”""

My favorite quote from the whole story hour, also my favorite character.  It was a shame to see him go, and not be resurrected.

GW


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## Grundar

*Who's that*

I'm confused. Which mage are you talking about and what giant?


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## Graywolf-ELM

Grundar said:
			
		

> I'm confused. Which mage are you talking about and what giant?




Early on,  The Giants protecting the Keep/Castle where the Fire cult was hanging out.  The Dwarf quietly rushed into battle, with his lips tightly shut, to help the party be stealthy.  One of the others cast a spell at the Giant.

Copied that quoted section way back then, and saved it while finishing the story.  Only to find that later on, the Dwarf bites it, and isn't raised.

GW


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## ltclnlbrain

Whew, Greywolf's digging up the ancient past! (Though ancient translates to a few months ago.)  Yes, we were all sad to see Berek go, though his passing made way for Rumar to come in. That, in turn, led to a whole wealth of roleplaying opportunities that never would have occurred had our favorite plucky and irritable paladin not joined.


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## Graywolf-ELM

Yes, but I still liked the Dwarf character better than the irritating Paladin.   Not that I'll stop reading because he's gone mind you.

GW


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## Grundar

Berek's fun too, but seriously, frenzied beserkers don't have many friends. Its enough to deal with the enemy, you'll have to watch your back all the time in case they go berserk and take you out.

In arena style fighting, they rock, with power attack, they can dish out tons of damage.


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## Gramcrackered

Not that his tendency to hurt party members was the deciding factor or anything though.  Ultimately, I couldn't have had him come back without completely shattering my character concept - though it never had a chance to come up, Berek simply wanted to die in combat.  Had this big 'ole thing about how he wanted to redeem himself for various reasons, blah, blah, blah.
In retrospect, I suppose I could have said that he wasn't happy with dying the way he did.  Not particuarly impressive to be blasted by magic while unable to do anything about it.

...Damn.  Why is that only occuring to me NOW?  That would have worked perfectly.


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## Pelwrath

The combat comming up was a truely marvelous experiance. Bazim-Gorag  was far ahhh more diverse than I expected.  Yup, we did forget about Rumar and it did cost us, a lot. 
 As for Yarrick, well sometime you just talk yourself into too many agreements without really thinking about who or what you're dealing with.


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## Terenon

*Firebringer*

How the upcoming combat went was mostly(all) Terenon's fault. I had thought that I would just have a short conversation with it, and then rest buff and attack. However the firebringer had another idea. Once the battle started, leaving became less and less of an option. 

You'll have to realize that the firebringer has a CR 18+ and we were 14th level. Starting battle without our strongest fighter. Needless to say, the battle was less than a cake walk


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## xenoflare

Terenon said:
			
		

> How the upcoming combat went was mostly(all) Terenon's fault. I had thought that I would just have a short conversation with it, and then rest buff and attack. However the firebringer had another idea. Once the battle started, leaving became less and less of an option.
> 
> You'll have to realize that the firebringer has a CR 18+ and we were 14th level. Starting battle without our strongest fighter. Needless to say, the battle was less than a cake walk




Hi,

  Did you fight the "Bound" or "Unbound" version of Bazim-Gorag? i'm fascinated , both by the great writing of your exploits, and also because we went through nearly everything the way you did, but with much more bloody results and lots of losses on our end. (Serilla falling in love with one of the party, and Moskoog being beaten by divination magic...)

Yours,
shao


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## ltclnlbrain

Xenoflare, the group fought the bound version of the Firebringer. He was confined to the two rooms of his prison and was unable to summon reinforcements. He still was able to put up one hell of a fight. I honestly did not expect the players to make it out alive. As for what happened...well, stay tuned and you'll find out soon enough!


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## Grundar

yikes, i wouldn't want to see the firebringer in his unbound state.. reinforcements you say? sheesh, as if dealing with his two heads weren't enough.. I was wondering, if we were to disarm him of his glaive, it would have been an easier fight, we'd just have to deal with him killing us with his flashing eyes.. But then again, it might be a little hard to disarm him wouldn't it..


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## Gramcrackered

You know, he probably wouldn't have had to hard a time picking the glaive back up again or even wrestling it from our hands if need be.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 21

Bazim-Gorag's eyes flashed, and suddenly the entire chamber was filled with a roiling storm of fire. It swept around for a few seconds before putting itself out, but the slaad lord was surprised to see the adventurers emerge unscathed. Growling, he hefted his glaive and moved around the lava pool toward Grundar. "Protected from fire, are you?" he said. "We can deal with that."

Grundar backed away from the slaad as he grabbed a potion off his belt that would make him faster. He was surprised when Rhys stepped up to take his place. The aasimar cleric cast a spell, and suddenly he grew in size until he stood nearly eleven feet tall, towering over the Firebringer. He leveled his staff at the slaad and spoke in a clear, booming voice. “This is where I fight. Bazim-Gorag, even if you summon Hell itself, I will not let you leave this prison. I have seen death before. I do not fear it. My death is inconsequential, so long as you are destroyed.”

Terenon conjured a sword of magical force to attack the Firebringer, but as soon as it struck him, it merely winked out of existence. It appeared that he was resistant to magic. The mage frowned as he looked around. It seemed like he was forgetting something. Then it hit him: Rumar had not come back! They were so caught up in the conversation with Yarrick Zan and the arrival of the Firebringer, they had forgotten all about Rumar! The mage hurried out of the prison back toward the lava room.

Bazim-Gorag grinned as he stepped toward Rhys, but he was momentarily blinded as a blast of chain lightning from Allanon shot toward him. The lightning merely sputtered against his skin, leaving him totally unaffected. The slaad lord smiled toothily as he took another step, but this time his advance was stopped as Grundar came tumbling under his reach. The elf rose up and thrust his trusty rapier deep into Bazim-Gorag’s chest, and the slaad lord grunted as the spry elf tumbled away.

The Firebringer growled as the wound in his chest began to close up. “You hurt us, elf,” he spat. “You will be the first to die.” His eyes flashed, and Grundar felt the magical protections the others had layered on him being torn away. Bazim-Gorag then tore into him with his glaive, delivering four horrific tears across his body. Grundar screamed in pain as fire played across his body and negative energy coursed through his wounds, barely having the strength to stand after the vicious assault.

“Grundar!” shouted Rhys as he made his way over to the elf. Calling upon Torm, he healed some of the elf’s wounds, though he still remained rather badly wounded.

Terenon reached the lake of lava and could make out Rumar on the far side, slowing winging his way back. “RUMAR!” he shouted as loud as he could. “Get the hell over here!” Not waiting to see if the paladin had heard, Terenon flew back down the hall toward the battle. He cast a quick spell and shot a black, bubbling ray at the Firebringer. The ray struck the slaad in the chest, suppressing its life force with negative energy.

Terenon’s enervation ray was followed up by a lightning bolt from Jelani and a prismatic spray from Allanon, but neither spell had any effect on the Firebringer. 

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

Rumar furrowed his brow in thought as he flew through the blisteringly hot air. _What in the world could the problem be? How could they have gotten into trouble during the five-minutes I was gone?_ he thought. As he rounded the corner past where they (briefly) fought the hydra, Rumar finally spotted just where the group had moved. Drawing Pergium and settling his shield into place, he forced himself to double his speed.
_They couldn't possibly be so stupid...not possibly..._

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

Grundar had been nearly torn in half by the Firebringer’s attacks, but he tumbled even further from the slaad lord and drew another potion, this one of the healing variety, downing its contents.

"You won't get away that easily, elf," growled the Firebringer as his eyes flashed. Suddenly, Grundar felt an enormous force pushing him with tremendous might. He tried to resist, but it was too much, and he was sent sailing forward through the air, landing inside the pit of lava. He screamed in pain as the lava coated his body, melting the flesh off of his bones.

"Now for you, priest," Bazim-Gorag said. He slashed four times at Rhys; two strikes penetrated his defenses and left gaping wounds in the aasimar's flesh, but Rhys managed to get his staff up to block the second two strikes.

“You are mistaken, Bazim-Gorag,” said Rhys. “It is your turn to die.” Rhys then stepped up and whirls his staff in a barrage of attacks at Bazim-Gorag, slamming the slaad lord with powerful swings of the enchanted weapon. The Firebringer tried to parry, but each strike slipped past his defenses to score his flesh. The slaad lord screamed in pain as the fierce blows landed on him.

Terenon fired another black ray at the wounded slaad, but this one went wide and didn’t even hit. The mage grimaced as he saw the beating everybody was taking. “Retreat!” he called. “We have to leave now!”

“We still have the upper hand!” cried Allanon. “His magic resistance is killing us, but I think I can take care of it!” Focusing on the power of the Weave in the prison, the wild mage began forming it to his will, attempting to trigger a wild surge that would lower the slaad’s spell resistance.

The Firebringer took a few steps away from Rhys, his teeth gritted and his wounds healing slightly. His eyes flashed, and a roaring wall of fire appeared where Rhys was standing, licking at the aasimar and eroding at his fire protection. "Now it's time to face our true potential,” he growled. With that, the man's form began to shift and stretch outward. In the span of a few seconds, he assumed his true form: a large frog-like creature the size of an ogre, with mottled skin of red and gold. It had two heads that hissed and muttered to each other, and its four eyes looked like balls of white flame. The glaive also shifted in size, becoming large enough for the slaad to wield efficiently.

Backing out of the flames, Rhys called upon the holy power of Torm and was surrounded by a nimbus of glowing white light. In a flash, the grievous wounds on his body disappeared as if they were never there, and he was back to perfect health.

“Jelani! Grab Grundar!” Terenon yelled as he waited for Allanon to complete his surge. The mention of grabbing Grundar came a bit late as Jelani was already flying over to help him. He barely heard Terenon’s words, however, his mind rapidly spinning, calculating the best action. There was really only one way to keep the elf from dying at this point. He reached the area just above where Grundar struggled in the lava and cast a spell, grasping his wounded comrade’s arm. As they faded away the words “The Well…” escaped Jelani’s lips and then they were both elsewhere and he could only hope that his companions had understood.

Allanon incanted the last syllable of his spell and released the wild surge at the Firebringer, praying for it to work. He flew closer to his friends, but kept them between himself and the Firebringer. He started casting a spell to test the enemy’s resistance. As the familiar arcane words rolled off his tongue, a long fork of lightning stretched from his finger and engulfed the Firebringer. It seemed to work, for the slaad lord convulsed and jerked as electricity coursed through his body. “Now’s our chance!” he cried.

Terenon cast a spell, creating a wall of force between the slaad lord and the rest of the party. “I don’t think that will hold him for long. We should get out of here,” he said firmly.

“No!” said Allanon. “He looks pretty badly hurt right now! We should take him down while he’s on the ropes, or the next time we fight him, he’ll be back to full strength and ready for us.”

Rumar flew into the chamber, his armor glowing with an enchantment of speed. He drew to a halt as he realized the Firebringer was momentarily contained. “Some may call this a bit reckless,” he muttered blandly. “But if we are to finish this now, let’s do it.”

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

Jelani and Grundar materialized in the Well of Stars. The mystic theurge cradled the elf’s badly burnt and broken body as the motes of positive energy began to flock to him, infusing Grundar with healing energy. Jelani added some spells of his own and Grundar downed a few potions, and after a short time he was well enough to fight again.

“I’m out of teleportation spells,” said Jelani. “We’ll have to fly back.”

The two exited through the bottom of the well, passing by Yarrick Zan. The assassin flashed them a knowing smile as they passed.

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

Bazim-Gorag laughed at the wall of force that stood between him and the adventurers. His eyes flashed, and he teleported to the other side of the barrier, within reach of Rhys. "Let's see how strong you are without your magic," the slaad growled, dispelling all of Rhys' protections and enhancements. Deprived of his protections, the fiery aura around Bazim-Gorag ignited the aasimar, setting him on fire.

Now his normal size and being burnt by the roaring flames, Rhys surrounded himself with an aura of divine fire. It was comprised of holy energy, not real flames, so it burnt the Firebringer's flesh a bit. He did not seem to notice it.

Allanon sendt a spray of prismatic colors sailing toward the Firebringer, but it did not seem to affect him. Terenon called a prismatic eye into existence that fired an indigo ray at the slaad lord. It struck him in the side, and suddenly his left head began babbling wildly. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth and its eyes rolled about. His right head glared at Terenon angrily. "We will deal you once the priest is ash," the right head threatened.

Rumar flapped his wings and rose up into the air. His eyes began to glow bright gold and suddenly twin rays of searing light shot out and struck the Firebringer, burning him with holy energy.

While his left head babbled on, the eyes of Bazim-Gorag's right head flashed, and suddenly four large glowing meteors appeared before his outstretched hand and shot out in various directions, leaving fiery trails of sparks, one each at Rhys, Allanon, Terenon, and Rumar. Rhys' meteor smacked him dead on in the face, and Rumar's hit him in the chest. The meteors targeted at the wizards merely exploded next to them. The meteors blossomed into enormous explosions, and while Terenon was only hit by one, Rhys Rumar and Allanon's explosions covered the same area, catching all three with each blast. As the blasts died down, Rhys toppled forward in a flaming heap, his flesh and hair smoldering. The others were badly burnt but had survived the assault.

Terenon's prismatic eye fired an orange ray, but the slaad lord dodged and barely seems to take any damage. Terenon and Allanon both sent powerful bolts of chain lightning at Bazim-Gorag. The electricity crackled across his body, eliciting a roar of pain and rage.

Rumar charged in, getting slashed by the Firebringer's enormous glaive as he went, and swung his own sword at the slaad, but it merely bounced off his hide.

The Firebringer's right head growled as his eyes flashed and he disappeared, reappearing at the other side of the wall of force by the black mirror. It rippled as he passed through, then turned solid again.


----------



## Pelwrath

Yup!  That was one of my better moments with wit, planing and luck in combat.  Unfortuneately, I was undone by a dispell magic, most likely and that was not the place to be deprived of it.  I had used Divine Power, Righteous Might and Aspect of Diety, from DoF and in Complete Divine as Visage of Diety.


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Excellent update once again*

Well ltclnlbrain, you have done it again.

I have followed the link you gave a while back and have now caught up with the game as it is being posted. Praise to you and your players as the posts are often already very entertaining to read. But you have managed to create an even more captivating story, based on the postings and I can only say kudos to all of you and you DM Brainiac in particular.

Reading this update and especially Rumars thoughts:


> Rumar furrowed his brow in thought as he flew through the blisteringly hot air. _What in the world could the problem be? How could they have gotten into trouble during the five-minutes I was gone?_ he thought. As he rounded the corner past where they (briefly) fought the hydra, Rumar finally spotted just where the group had moved. Drawing Pergium and settling his shield into place, he forced himself to double his speed.
> _They couldn't possibly be so stupid...not possibly..._



I could not help but laugh, as it so reminds me of the way A'vandira would think and react.

Sure hope to be reading more soon and if you ever have need of a(n extra) player in one of your campaigns I'm your gal (uhh guy).


----------



## Terenon

*Lower Resistance*

We started to search for a spell to lower magic resistance, because the majority of our group were spell casters. We finally found one in the Dragonimicon, and allanon made a successful wild surge to mimic the spell. If it hadn't been for that I'm sure we all would have been decimated.


----------



## Gramcrackered

Heh.  Well-balanced party we ain't.  What, four of the group are clerics, mages, or some combination there of?  Meanwhile, I'm merely a mediocre warrior when it comes to battle and Grundar immediately finds himself crippled if his opponent doesn't have a Constitution score.


----------



## Grundar

Luckily with Rumar, we have a decent tank. As Gramcrackered said, Grundar is only effective against creatures that are vulnerable to sneak/critical attacks. He's a bit reliant on that, which is something i'm not too fond off, right now. At least i think Yarrick won't be immune to it.. :>


----------



## Gramcrackered

Wow.  You bothered to type out my whole nickname.  _Nobody_ ever bothers to do that.  With fairly good reason, I might add.


----------



## Grundar

no problem. I wasn't in a hurry to post. Would you like a shorter name?


----------



## Felikeries

I often wonder how  metal 'constructs' take any sword damage at
all of it isn't made with magical extra's

is there featured weak spots,at the joints?
glass features that shatter?
a dc for puncturing the metal?
or is the AC associated assumed to leave gashed metal slices?


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Whew, Greywolf's digging up the ancient past! (Though ancient translates to a few months ago.)




You'll get some of this, as people drop in, read through the whole story in a sitting or three, and post about what is new to them within the last day or two.  
You may or may not get used to it.

I had to re-find all of the Story Hour threads that I read again, all went defunct.  This is one I'll read as you update now.

GW


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 22

“Rhys! What happened? Where’s Bazim-Gorag?”

Grundar looked sadly upon the flaming heap that was all that remained of the priest of Torm. He and Jelani had just made it back to the Firebringer’s prison, where Allanon and Terenon were busy renewing their defensive spells.

Rumar grunted and pointed to the mirror in the far wall. “The slaad went through there. He can’t hold the portal shut for long though. When it opens again, we will be ready.”

Standing in the center of an archway, the ten-foot tall mirror was made of what appeared to be gleaming black glass. Its silver frame appeared to be affixed to the stone walls around it, so that the mirror blocked the passageway completely. Strangely asymmetrical runes along its perimeter seemed to change at random.

Jelani grimly recovered a wand from Rhys’ remains and used it to heal up the party. He renewed their fire protection as well, and then all that was left to do was to wait. Finally, the runes stopped changing and the mirror turned permeable once again. The adventurers knew that they would not have another chance: it was time to put down the Firebringer once and for all. Resolutely, they passed through the mirror.

On the far side of the black mirror was an immense hall built of red granite and polished red marble. Two wide archways opposite the doorway led to a similar, parallel hall appointed in the same way. Fuming lava boiled and hissed in a square moat ringing the archways that led to the other side of the hall. Smaller pools of lava seethed along the east and west walls. The whole room reeked with the smell of molten rock, and the ruddy glare of the magma gave the room a hellish glow. 

At the south end of the western hall, a blank stone portal occupied one wall. Gold gleamed in great heaps near this entryway.

The Firebringer stood by the square moat. He still looked rather badly damaged, but his left head had stopped babbling and seemingly regained its sanity. He was surrounded not only by his flaming aura, but also by a random pattern of color that swirled around his body. Both heads grinned menacingly at the party.

"'Step into our chamber,' said the spiders to the flies. Time to die."

“It will be your death!” shouted Jelani, casting a spell that sent a cone of chilling ice and cold spiraling toward the slaad. Both heads roared in anguish as the spell tore through the slaad’s body, causing dozens of tiny wounds to appear across his body.

“This has gone on long enough!” roared the Firebringer. The eyes of his right head flashed, and suddenly everybody was assaulted by a vision of their greatest fear. Allanon, Terenon, and Jelani recognized the illusion and managed to disbelieve it, but unfortunately Grundar and Rumar didn't. Grundar was so overcome by fear that his heart simply stopped; the elf gasped as he slipped to the floor, the life draining from his eyes.. Rumar survived, but the force of the spell left the paladin stunned and drained. 

Jelani wanted to scream in denial, but he never got the chance. The Firebringer's left head's eyes flashed and he spoke a single word, pointing his finger at Jelani: "Die." The mystic theurge’s body was wracked by a terrible seizure as the spell snuffed out his life force in an instant, and his lifeless body dropped to the ground.

“No!” shouted both Allanon and Terenon. Each mage mimicked Jelani’s last action, sending two more cones of cold to slam into the Firebringer. The slaad coughed heavily, splattering blood across the ground, and he held his glaive with shaky hands. It still seemed he had some fight left in him, though. His right eyes flashed, and Allanon felt a malevolent force in his mind trying to paralyze him. He very nearly succumbed to it, but Jelani’s prayer to Akadi was still in effect, and the goddess’ influence allowed him to throw off the effects of the spell.

Growling with rage, Bazim-Gorag hefted his glaive and charged straight at Rumar, swinging the massive unholy weapon across his chest. It looked like the head of the weapon was about to decapitate the poor paladin, but at the last moment the slaad's grip slipped and the glaive passed harmlessly over his head. A stream of curses and epithets poured out of the Firebringer's mouths.

Allanon was shocked to the core by the deaths of two more of his friends, and anger boiled within him. “Terenon! Let’s finish this!” Powerful blasts of chain lightning arced from his fingertips, wracking the slaad’s body.

“Your time is at an end!” shouted Terenon, zapping the Firebringer with lightning of his own.

“No!” cried Bazim-Gorag, nearly on his last legs. “You cannot defeat us! We are Bazim-Gorag! We are the Firebringer! You are nothing but insects!”

“This insect can sting,” said Rumar. He had recovered from being stunned and now stared at the Firebringer with cold purpose and determination. He flapped his wings and lifted himself into the air, then barreled down on the slaad lord, Pergium raised above his head. “Pergium, thy aim be true!” he cried.

The slaad's glaive carved an enormous gouge in his flesh, but he didn't care; the paladin propelled himself the last few feet at the slaad and smote him with all his might.

The celestial blade made it past the shield of swirling colors, past the aura of flames, and struck the Firebringer's chest. For a split-second, it seemed that it was going to stop there, but then it sank through the flesh, nearly all the way to its hilt as Rumar put all of his strength behind it. Holy energies coursed through the Firebringer's body, and he dropped his glaive as he let out a dual shriek of pain and rage. His body began shaking violently, but Rumar held onto his sword, keeping the blade immersed as far as it would go.

Bazim-Gorag's fiery aura dissipated as his life force drains away. The burning flames of his eyes began to sputter and die out, becoming as black as coals. The slaad lord teetered unsteadily on its feet, then tipped over backward and collapsed to the ground, smacking the stone surface with a resounding thud that shook the entire room. His body twitched once, then lied still, the battered paladin crouched on his chest still clutching Pergium’s hilt.

Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer, was dead.

Several seconds passed after the defeat of the Firebringer. Nobody moved, wanting to make sure that he was truly dead. After a short time, the black mirror portal rippled and Yarrick Zan stepped through. His eyes widened a bit as he saw Rumar crouched on the fallen slaad lord, and his lips twitched in amazement.

"I am surprised you were able to defeat him," he said plainly. "And some of you still live. You are indeed formidable opponents. I shall have to remember this if ever we are to cross blades."

Zan gestured to the huge piles of treasure off to the side, and to the gleaming golden rod sitting atop them. "Now then, I will be taking the scepter and our business will be concluded. Unless there are any objections?" he asked, a deadly menace creeping into the edges of his voice.

Terenon looked wearily at the illithid, still disguised as a half-elf. “A deal was struck. You shall have your prize.” The mage glided over to the pile of treasure and retrieved the scepter, then placed one end in the mercenary’s hand. “And now your end of the deal. The name of your employer.”

Zan nodded. “Orichalxos. The beholder-mage.” A thin smile crept onto the half-elf’s features. “Your cooperation is appreciated.” He bowed, then disappeared in a flash of light.

Terenon bowed in return, but as soon as the illithid was gone, he dropped to his knees in exhaustion. A swirling mix of emotions ran through his mind: sorrow, elation, pride, exhaustion. He saw Allanon lying on his back, wiping sweat from his brow. Rumar still sat upon the defeated slaad’s chest, tending to his wounds.

The mage retrieved the portable hole and opened it. He pushed the mounds of treasure haphazardly into the hole. He then went to Grundar's lifeless body. Lifting the limp form up, he said, "Don't worry my friend. We will have the priests call on the gods for all of you to return."

The flying mage lowered the corpse into the hole gently. He grabbed a few handfuls of gold and showered the elf with it. "You can bathe in treasure while you wait," he said with a tired smile. 

Terenon next picked up Jelani and laid him next to Grundar. The mage shook his head at the sight of Rhys’ immolated remains. More ash than body, Terenon wrapped the remains up in his cloak and stored him with the others. He grabbed the Firebringer’s massive glaive and removed Bazim-Gorag's heads. The skulls would make fine trophies. He even had some ideas about a magic item he could create from them. 

Once all things had been cleaned up, the wizard cast one last weary glance around the prison before invoking a spell. The survivors of the battle with the Firebringer disappeared in a flash of light.  

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

The Temple of Torm in Silverymoon was privy to an odd sight that day: two burnt and beaten mages and a thoroughly exhausted paladin bearing the bodies of their comrades and large heaps of coins to the doorstep. The survivors waited in the foyer for thirty minutes before Grundar, Jelani, and Rhys emerged, a little drained from the resurrections but none the worse for wear.

Truly, they had achieved a great deed this day.

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

Serrila answered the knock on her door with a large grin, though it faltered when she saw the haggard look in Terenon’s eyes. She ushered him in, and the mage was a bit surprised to see Deirdriel and Lisa in the sitting room. 

“We came to hear what happened,” said Deirdriel. “Where are the others? We thought they’d be with you.”

“They’re recuperating,” said Terenon simply. “It was not an easy fight.”

The women listened to Terenon's story, gasping in horror at the destructive capabilities of the Firebringer and giving thanks that the threat he posed to the Realms is no more. Serrila massaged Terenon's shoulders as his tale came to an end, and Deirdriel nodded, smiling.

"I have spoken to Lady Alustriel about your deeds and what you have discovered about Acessiwal. She wishes to meet with all of you, and I am sure she will be doubly pleased to meet you now that you have defeated Bazim-Gorag. I have arranged a meeting for you tonight, though we can reschedule if you would like to rest first."

Terenon looked at Deirdriel with tired eyes, and gave a weak smile. "Not tonight. I will probably sleep for the rest of the day and into the morning. I'd hate to offend Lady Alustriel, but I have little choice. If she finds it acceptable, I'm sure all of us will be glad to see her tomorrow. Please give my apologies."

"I am sure she will understand. We'll reschedule for tomorrow." Deirdriel looked over to Lisa and gestured toward the door. "Come along, Lisa. Let's go find Allanon. Maybe he'll help you with that ray of frost you've been working on." Deirdriel patted Terenon’s shoulder as she left. Lisa favored the mage with a worried gaze and hesitated for a moment, then silently followed Deirdriel out.

As soon as the other two women left, Serrila moved around the couch and sat down on Terenon's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and studied his eyes, her own watery and on the verge of tears. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed the mage on his forehead, then held him close to her for a few moments.

"Thank you for not dying," she whispered in his ear. Drawing back, she looked at his face again and smiled, stifling a giggle. "You look terrible," she said wryly.

Terenon looked up and simply said, "Aye." He shifted to position his head on her lap while stretching out his legs on the couch. 

"You would have been very proud of your brother. He really came through when we needed it. Thanks to him, the rest of us didn't die." Terenon paused to close his eyes and feel Serrila's caresses. "I have an idea about making something from the Firebringer. It will be...unique. I will be spending most of the time in the laboratory. If you wish, you can aid me. I think it might be fun to work together. Besides I'll miss you too much if you don't." 

"I'd like that," said Serrila, stroking the mage's hair. "You've been away far too much lately; it will be good to be able to spend so much time together. You've got a big day tomorrow, though: you get to meet the Shining Lady of Silverymoon! She's a Chosen of Mystra, you know. She's kept the Silver Marches safe for the...Terenon?"

Soft snoring sounds arose from Terenon, his eyes closed in slumber. Serrila smiled and laid down beside him, her arm draped across his body. She rested her head on his chest, watching it rise and fall as the sun sank below the western horizon.


----------



## Grundar

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> "I am surprised you were able to defeat him," he said plainly. "And some of you still live. You are indeed formidable opponents. I shall have to remember this if ever we are to cross blades."




Hah! Too bad Grundar was dead while squid-head said this. Or else, he'll be really pissed later on in the story.. It was hell of a fight. Spellcasters can be really deadly at higher levels. It was quite a finish actually, with Rumar(or was it the DM NPC'ing) rolling a natural 20 i think. Or else, he wouldn't have been able to damage the Firebringer.


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Praise*

You have again managed to do it. Once again you have moulded the PBW-posts into a highly exciting story, very much worth the wait. Thankee very much DM Brainiac.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Thanks again, A'vandira. This chapter formally concludes "Prison of the Firebringer," and the stage is now set for the next adventure: "Glacier Season." I have been contemplating changing the title of the story hour, but that might throw off some readers looking for the Firebringer. What do you guys think? Should I change the title or not?


----------



## Pelwrath

The fight was fantastic.  As you'll see we all were brought back and continued on the new adventure.


----------



## Terenon

*Rez*

The only problem with the battle was all the people we had to true rez. Talk about expensive. It really ate into our bottom line, but thankfully I had enough gold to make a brand new and unique magic item. When I took it out for its first spin, it was more successful than I could imagine.


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

You're welcome Itclnlbrain, praise be given where praise is due.
As for changing the name: Only thing I can come up with is something like: *"It started at the Prison of the Firebringer"*. This way you keep the name of FB in the title for people looking for that, while at the same time opening the doors for continued campaigning. But that's only my opinion and should not be taken too seriously in matters like this  



			
				ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Thanks again, A'vandira. This chapter formally concludes "Prison of the Firebringer," and the stage is now set for the next adventure: "Glacier Season." I have been contemplating changing the title of the story hour, but that might throw off some readers looking for the Firebringer. What do you guys think? Should I change the title or not?


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Perhaps I should call it "Legacy of the Firebringer" or "After the Firebringer," something like that. Which do you think is better?


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Legacy of the Firebringer sounds good*

Kill two birds with one stone, as this name is kind of intriguing as well and hints at the party being the legacy or just the continuing story of the party.
On the other hand people might feel cheated as it could be taken to mean there is a legacy of the FB being described, which in actuallity it does not. At least not as narrowly defined as one might take it.

After the Firebringer might be better, but perhaps another reader is able to come up with an idea that's gonna blow our minds altogether.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> Perhaps I should call it "Legacy of the Firebringer" or "After the Firebringer," something like that. Which do you think is better?




I suggest you start a new thread with the party name, or the campaign name, something along those lines.  Post a link here, both at the beginning in your first post, and now, as a pointer to your new thread.  People will get the hint, and you are not shackled by the name of a single adventure anymore.

my 2 cents.

GW


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> I suggest you start a new thread with the party name, or the campaign name, something along those lines. Post a link here, both at the beginning in your first post, and now, as a pointer to your new thread. People will get the hint, and you are not shackled by the name of a single adventure anymore.
> 
> 
> my 2 cents.
> 
> GW



2 cents? Looks like the 10K GP suggestion to me ;-)


----------



## Terenon

*Bump*

Maybe we shoulfd get ourselves a group name, like The Bickering Avengers


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Bickering Avengers, eh?  Not such a bad name.

Just to let you guys know, I've been out of town for the past week and haven't been able to work on updates. But hopefully I will get one out for you before the end of the week.


----------



## Gramcrackered

Terenon said:
			
		

> Maybe we shoulfd get ourselves a group name, like The Bickering Avengers




I blame...hmmmm...you!




			
				Grundar said:
			
		

> no problem. I wasn't in a hurry to post. Would you like a shorter name?




Oh, and I was kidding, Grundar.  Most people just don't bother with the whole nickname; just found it a bit amusing you actually did.
'Course, there are a lot of long, complicated nicknames on this forum...


----------



## ltclnlbrain

A'vandira, I tried e-mailing you but I guess I don't have the privilege on this board or something.

I know you've expressed your desire to play in our game, and it just so happens we have an opening now. Allanon has been pretty much MIA the past few months, so we've decided to drop him. Send me an e-mail at ltclnlbrain@aol.com if you want to join up.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 23

Separated from the rest of the city of Silverymoon by the Market, the Palace District was, along with the New City, the place for the rich and noble. The sights that greeted a visitor to this splendid area were worth seeing, to be sure. Finely dressed nobility seeking to out-do one another in gentility, wit and fashion, powerful mages and respected priests walking side-by-side, or the Shining Host or Knights in Silver riding by, reassuring their charges of their vigilance and protection.

The highest point in the Palace District was the High Palace. This incredible castle of white marble was the most impressive sight in Silverymoon, and it dominated a low hill just east of the market. Rearing unicorns and beautiful maidens adorned the walls of the castle and its tallest spire sparkled under the light of the sun. Grassy fields surrounded it on all sides, and pools of fresh water burst in patterns at regular intervals. These fields were a favorite place for picnics during the spring and summer, and brightly colored tents could be found there during the city's festivals. 

The adventurers were stopped at the gates of the castle by a squad of heavily armored guards. Deirdriel stepped up and exchanged words with them, and after a few moments they ushered the group into the palace proper.

The half-elven mage directed the party through the extravagantly appointed halls and stairways up to Alustriel's audience chamber. Dozens of courtiers lined the impressive chamber, though all of the group’s attention was held by the beautiful woman seated at the far end of the hall. She was clad in extravagant clothing and carried a staff adorned with a unicorn's head, and her hair was the color of radiant silver, sparkling in the morning sun.

The woman smiled and rose from her throne, and all conversation in the room stopped. The party made its way across the hall and stopped before the woman's throne. Bowing low, Deirdriel said, "Lady Alustriel, may I present to you the adventurers who defeated the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame, as well as their chaos lord, Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer."

Alustriel spread her arms wide as her melodious voice rang out throughout the hall. "I have heard much about your exploits. It is good to finally meet you all. Allanon... Grundar... Jelani... Rhys... Rumar... Terenon. On behalf of all of Silverymoon, I thank you for your deeds. You have protected the Silver Marches and all of the Realms from the destruction that would have surely followed if the Firebringer had been released, and for that you have my eternal gratitude."

The room broke out into applause.

It was something that Terenon had always craved: adoration. His face beamed with pride and pleasure. He started waving his hand to the crowd. He slapped Grundar on the back and grabbed Jelani by the shoulder. "They love us," he said low enough so only they can hear. "Now would be a good time to hit them up for some land titles."

Jelani’s reaction to the crowd couldn’t have been more different from Terenon’s. Rather than waving to the crowd he further shadowed his head inside the large robes; features that the more observant of the group would note were significantly different from those that he’d been seen with before. Hair color, eye color, even the size and shape of his nose had been, at least for the moment changed. Though it undoubtedly would not fool the Lady Alustriel, it appeared that he was more concerned with the crowd than anything else.

Gauging from the silence on his part and the rather slight bow he issued in the direction of Alustriel after she spoke, Rumar was less than overwhelmed with the admiration of those in the room. In fact, he looked more impatient than anything else. _Hmph. More blasted ceremonial posturing. I can only hope that this doesn't go on for too long; I have far more important things to tend to._

Once the applause died down, Alustriel turns back toward the adventurers. "There are other matters we need to discuss in more private circumstances. If you'd please follow me?"

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

Alustriel led the group to a small meeting room just down the hall from the audience chamber, filled with plush couches, a warm fireplace, and several varieties of wine. Gracefully taking a seat on one of the couches, the ruler of Silverymoon waited for her guests to sit before beginning.

"As I said before, we are most grateful for the work you have done, but I am afraid there is more for you to do. The shadow of Acessiwal's might will soon fall upon the Silver Marches, and we must be prepared. I have researched this white wyrm extensively and managed to find much you may find useful."

"Acessiwal makes his lair far to the north of here, somewhere in the Spine of the World. For centuries, he had been content to terrorize the tundra beyond the realms of humanity. Seldom has he turned his eye toward raid or conquest, but things have changed in the past few decades. Thirty years ago, he dealt a semi-permanent defeat to the frost giant clans that checked his rulership over the cold wastes. There have been several uprisings since then, but none large enough to be much of a threat to the wyrm and his forces. he began to look beyond his longtime plains of ice for new lands to bring under his icy dominion."

"He has been rallying many allies to his banner in the hopes of conquering the Silver Marches. As of now he does not have nearly enough soldiers to take on Silverymoon, but he still may be capable of conquering the smaller outlying settlements to the north and east. Acessiwal must not be allowed to gain a foothold in the Marches, or we will be hard-pressed to beat back his troops."

"There is a small hamlet by the name of Finch that may be a good point to start out from. It is close enough to the Spine of the World that the residents may have more information you can use, yet far enough away that they will not be under Acessiwal's influence. I understand that you need time to rest and recuperate after your latest expedition, but do not tarry overlong; with each day that passes, the white wyrm's might grows stronger."

Terenon sat on one of the couches and sank deeply into its padded opulence. Still high from the jubilant reaction of the crowd, a grin was plastered on his face. The talk of Acessiwal made the smile fade into an introspective scowl. He knew it was coming, but he didn't want to think about such things right now. He needed time. A fair amount of it was necessary for what he needed to do.  "I have plans to make an item which will aid in our future endeavors,” the mage began, “but I will need at least a month. I am honored by your faith in us for this mission. I love Silverymoon, and look to make it my home. I only wish I had the land to build one here..."

Alustriel inclined her head knowingly. "The city of Silverymoon would be willing to grant each of you a small tract of land for your victories in the Dungeon of the Ruins, if you are so inclined. You may do with it as you see fit. The land can be divided up however you wish. If two or more of you would like to pool the tracts together to create a larger one, you are free to do so. If you would rather prefer your privacy, we can arrange it so that you are more spread out around the city."

Judging by the way most of the others were nodding, they found this reward quite acceptable. Terenon smiled ingenuously. “Thank you, Lady Alustriel, you are most generous. Back to business then: what information do you have on the other players in Acessiwal’s army? Who are his allies?”

“Acessiwal has done quite a good job at covering up the size and composition of his forces," said Alustriel. "We have learned that one or more of his offspring are under his command, as well as at least one powerful wizard. He also has a large number of golems made of ice that he controls. Beyond that, we were unable to discover much else of use."

“May I make a suggestion?” asked Rhys. “Perhaps consideration should be given to contacting the frost giants and others he's fighting now? Yes, they may be evil, but it wouldn't surprise me if they'd be willing to help against him. Even if we're succesful, they'd be too weak to be a threat and being grateful may just leave us in peace for the help."

“Contacting them may be a good idea, though they are rather difficult to find,” Alustriel replied. “They have to hide themselves well to keep from being wiped out by the dragon's forces. It is more likely that they may contact you as you draw closer to Acessiwal's demesne."

“Also,” added Allanon, “do we know how old a dragon Acessiwal is? It will be important for our preparations.”

"Acessiwal is the oldest among dragons; his long life has spanned millenia, and he could quite possibly live for millenia more if his reign is not put to an end." Alustriel waited a few moments to see if anybody else had questions. "If that is all, gentlemen, then I bid you safe travels. We look forward to hearing good news once you set off on your quest."

The party began to leave the room, but Jelani lingered a moment longer and turned back to Alustriel. “Excuse me for taking more of your time, but who would I need to speak to about purchasing the land where the ruins of the Seleskaryn fortress lay?”

Alustriel raised her eyebrow at Jelani's question. She thought for a few moments, then shrugged. "The Selskar Vale is far beyond the borders of Silverymoon's territorial holdings. As far as I know, nobody owns the rights to the valley or the hill on which the old Tower of the Star stood. If you wish to take on the responsibility of rebuilding and refurbishing the keep, then you have my permission to do so. Though if that beholder mage still dwells there, you will probably have to deal with him first. From what Deirdriel has told me of your dealings with him, he doesn't sound like the sharing type."

Jelani nodded, smiling thinly. “Thank you, Lady. You have been most helpful.”

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

Walking out of the Lady's sitting room and into the hall, Terenon looked around with glee. One day, he would have a kingdom of his own. But why limit himself to Faerun? It could be located on another world or even another plane of existance. 

There was no time for such grandiose thoughts, though: he had work to do. One thing at a time, he thought. Walking out of the palace, the mage's thoughts drifted to Serrila. A smile broke across his face. He couldn't wait to tell her about his exciting day.


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## Gramcrackered

Heh.  I love that applause scene.
"Whoopie.  We're the friggin' victors.  Let's get this show on the road, eh?"


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## ltclnlbrain

Sorry I haven't updated in a while: once more, real life is slowing me down. I promise to have something up for you before the week is through.


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## Terenon

*Bump*

Lets hear a cheer for unique magic items, one of the better aspects of 3.5 game


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 24

Autumn came to the Silver Marches as a month passed by. A chill wind blew through the city almost daily now, and the leaves on the trees had turned brilliant hues of red, yellow, and gold. Terenon spent the majority of his time in the laboratory at the wizard's guild with Serrila, working on a unique magical item guaranteed to be the subject of some discussion later on. Jelani worked on some items of his own while Rhys brewed up a few potions that may come in handy later. The priest also checked in on Philosten, who had by now regained his wits and recovered from his ordeal in the prison. He was well on the road to recovery and was able to head back to his home within a few days. Rhys also spendt a lot of time around the Temple of Torm, contemplating his deity's teachings and conducting services every so often.

For his part, Rumar spent a tenday in ritual with his sword Pergium, reflecting upon the battles they had fought together and awakening the celestial spirit within to even greater potential. Once this was completed, he lingered about the lab with Serrila and Terenon, supervising their activities and making sure no funny stuff happened under his watchful eyes. Allanon spent time with Deirdriel perfecting the new spells he had discovered, as well as helping Lisa LaBurton with her wizard training. It went quite well, and by the end of the month, Lisa had mastered all of the basic cantrips as well as a few fledgling dweomers.

Grundar spent the month enjoying the copious amounts of treasure he had acquired. Stories spread through Silverymoon about the elf being seen swimming through enormous piles of coins, though these were written off as merely tall tales.

As the month came to a close, Allanon and Deirdriel invited everybody to the half-elf’s tower to catch up on the past month and to plan for the coming excursion to the Spine of the World. All of the adventurers, including Deirdriel, Serrila, and Lisa, gathered in a large, comfortable seating room. Several magical effects kept the room at a comfortably warm temperature, and numerous unseen servants moved about the room bringing food and drink to the group and tidying up after themselves.

Terenon entered Deirdriel's tower with Serrila on his arm. He sported the new magic item he had been diligently working on the past few tendays: a cloak that looked to be made of leathery mottled red skin. It appeared to be the skin of Bazim-Gorag. It billowed as he walked and stretched to the heels of his feet. A gold and silver chain with two small gold skulls as clasps anchored the cloak to him. He strode in and sat with Serrila next to him. He absentmindedly placed his hand on her knee. Taking some wine offered by one of the invisible servants, he gave his salutations to the others.

“Nice cloak, Terenon,” said Rhys approvingly, looking over the mage’s new duds. “What does it do?”

“That, my friend, you will see very soon,” Terenon replied cryptically. He shared a smile with Serrila, then turned back to the others. “So, what’s are next step, friends? I think the first thing we should do is deal with the beholder mage Orichalxos. That floating ball might cause trouble for us and others down the line if we don't deal with him now. The scepter of the ar-magus is still a powerful magic item, and I'm not sure we can leave it with him. Besides, he still owes us a reward for dealing with the Acolytes. We still haven't collected."

Rumar’s face twisted up in disapproval. "I find it hard to believe that he will simply give us our reward and then send us on our way. If we do choose to go speak with Oriichalxos, we had best plan for a confrontation."

"You guys probably won't be able to just barge into the observatory like you did last time," said Serrila, stroking Terenon's hand. "Orichalxos probably learned his lesson last time, so he will be more prepared to deal with adventurers. I also doubt he has been idle this past month, so he will probably have gathered more guardians and servants to him. You should be careful."

Terenon smiled at Serrila. "I knew there was a reason I'm smitten with you," he said teasingly. "The thing is nothing but head, so assuming it would fortify itself with protective measures would be a safe bet. Still, I can't help but wonder what it needs with the scepter. A vote seems in order. Do we forget about it, and concentrate on the dragon? Or do we deal with the beholder now?"

Lisa LaBurton sat slumped in a chair, looking bored. Several new pouches lined her belt, and a small embroidered satchel rested on her hip. The satchel had an interesting rune on it, basically a stylized lowercase "l" next to a stylized uppercase "B." She let out a small sigh, then wiggles her fingers and muttered a short incantation. Three small glowing red balls appeared in the air over her hands. She moved them through the air in intricate patterns; then, she grabbed one and rolls it back and forth across her knuckles, causing it to emit small tinkling noises.

"It would make the most sense to take out the most immediate threat first," Lisa said idly, her eyes on the floating balls. "On the streets of Baldur's Gate, we learned to deal with local rivals before setting our sights on the other side of town. By looking far away, you blind yourself to your immediate surroundings, and it only takes a small opening for one of those blighters to stab ya in the back or take your marks."

Jelani shrugged. “If we’re presuming that the creature knows something more about the dragon, then we should find out what we can. But otherwise there’s no need to deal with the thing now. Of course, I’d like to get rid of it so I can start paying people to clean up that fort, but sometimes the big things are more important than the little ones. Did anyone get a chance to do some divinations to see if we’d just be wasting our time?”

"Slaying a force of evil like the beholder mage is hardly a waste of time, Jelani," Rumar responded dryly, doing his best to avoid thinking about Terenon’s and Serrila’s activites off to the side of his view. "If the thought of permanently removing Orichalxos from his position of power in this web of vile deeds does not interest you, focus instead on it's treasure or spellbooks or some other pointless folly."

“I’m afraid you missed the point,” the mystic theurge replied, turning to the paladin. “I was trying to give us some options. I’d be happy to see the creature cleared out, but you have to look at the whole picture rather than just one battle if you want to wage an effective war.”

"We're going to confront and likely kill both of these creatures, correct?" Rumar asked rhetorically, leaning forward on his knees. "So why bother to waste time debating the options? I simply fail to see why the order we seek them out would have a large affect on things. If you insist we consider things though, I vote we go after the beholder mage first; I imagine it will simply hide itself if we slay its companion. The dragon, on the other hand, should be less inclined to leave behind its hoard at the first sign of trouble."

"I vote we go after the beholder,” said Grundar, “since we already know he has the staff of the ar-magus. Although the Firebringer is already dead, we should not let an evil creature like that have his time with it. I wonder what else the staff does. Anyway, I'd like to poke the rest of his eyes out. I don't like beholders. They’re freaky."

“I tried scrying on the beholder before I came,” said Terenon. “All I saw were hazy gray clouds. Either the creature resisted my spell, or he has put up defenses against scrying. Either way, we have no way of knowing what he might have waiting for us in the observatory. We should teleport outside in the Vale and make our way from there.”

The discussion was interrupted by a knock on Deirdriel's door. She excused herself as she moved to answer the door. After a minute or two, she returned. Standing beside her was an unexpected visitor and an old friend: none other than Gillian Lightfoot. The halfling lass' face was solemn as she bowed formally before you. "I heard you had a party a while a back. I am thoroughly shocked and disappointed that I was not invited. The manner in which you treat your former allies is appalling to say the least."

The halfling maintained her scowl for a few moments before a smile slowly spread across her features. The smile soon turned to laughter, and she chuckled heartily at the adventurers’ expressions of disbelief. "I had you for a second there," she said, grinning.

“Gillian!” cried Rhys, rushing over to embrace the halfling in a crushing hug. 

“Whoa, easy there,” she said uncomfortably, as the priest set her down.

“It’s great to see you, Gill,” said Grundar enthusiastically. “I guess you heard that the Firebringer is dead? Rumar there really laid the smackdown on him at the end. I trust your people are well?”

The halfling resumed a serious expression as she addressed the group at large. “Word recently reached Rivermoot and the other nearby halfling communities of your accomplishments in your battle against the Acolytes. It seems you were able to bring an end to their tyranny, and from what Grundar said, their chaos lord as well. My people are grateful for your assistance, and I am grateful that it did not come to us having to defend our lands from a rampaging slaad lord."

“Have you come to rejoin us?” asked Terenon. “We could realy use your skills and expertise.”

"Unfortunately, no. I have not come to rejoin the party. My job in this area of Faerun is done, and I am soon bound for Calimshan to aid the local halflings there with some problems they have been facing. I wanted to stop by and give my regards before I left, though, for we may not cross paths again. You have done well for yourselves, all of you, and I wish you nothing but the best of luck in all your future endeavors. May Yondalla always smile down upon you."

“We were concerned for you, Gillian,” said Rhys, “and we thank you for your visit. We wish you could stay longer, but you must do what you must do. Torm be with you.”

Gillian smiled again, perhaps wistfully, and bowed low. She then nodded to Deirdriel, who got up and escorted the halfling out.

“Alright,” said Terenon, once everybody was ready. “Let’s go poke out some eyes.”

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

With a flash of light and the now-familiar pulling sensation, the adventurers were transported back to the Selskar Vale. It was a sea of gold and red, as the green leaves that adorned the forest last time they were here were beginning to fall out for the winter. Birds chirped merrily in the trees and several small animals scurried about.

As they began to get their bearings and determine their next move, the sounds of the forest suddenly fell silent. A loud roar attracted their attention to the sky, where they saw something they were not expected.

An enormous red dragon flapped through the air on leathery wings.

And it was heading straight for them.


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## Terenon

*Time*

The breaks between adventures are great. You have the time and money to make some new toys.


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## ltclnlbrain

Gah, it's so hard to keep the thread on the first page these days! 

I'm working on the next update. Hopefully I'll have it up in the next few days.


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## Terenon

*Bump*

I hope they win against the new threat.


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## ltclnlbrain

Sorry about the long delay folks...here's an update for you. 



Chapter 25

Terenon looked up in wonder. There was little in the world that could measure up to the majestic sight of a dragon in flight. Unfortunately, when the dragon was flying in your direction, it was another matter entirely.

The mage scrambled for the cover of a nearby bush, glad to see that the others were following suit. The dragon flew closer, and Terenon noticed that a humanoid rode on the wyrm’s back. He feared that the patrol had already spotted them. But about a hundred feet away, the rider steered the dragon in a looping circle around back the way it came. Terenon could now make out the rider in greater detail. He was clad in black full plate armor and carried a heavy lance. He had rough yellow skin and russet hair pulled into a pair of topknots. His eyes had a sinister gleam, and his ears were pointed and serrated in back. The dragon wore fine barding of chain.

Completing its turn, the dragon started heading back the way it came. Off in the distance, the group could make out two small red shapes circling around another part of the Vale, before the hill on which sat the Dungeon of the Ruins. It seemed to be where the barracks house was located.

Terenon emerged from the bush, his jaw dropped in amazement. “By all the gods! Chromatic dragons with githyanki riders!”

Grundar frowned thoughtfully, tracking the wyrm with his sharp eyes. “Don’t tell me Acessiwal’s forces have already mobilized.”

“If this is an example of the army the dragon has amassed, Silverymoon, hell, all the Realms are in deep trouble. This does not bode well, not at all," said Terenon. "Rhys, can you divine a way in to the observatory? We cannot stay out here. I doubt we can take on three dragons and their riders, plus there is no telling how many githyanki ground troops there are here."

Rhys flushed profusely as he looked from the dragons to Terenon, shame evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Terenon. I thought about praying for Torm to grant me such a spell, but in the end I did not. I have failed in my duty to you.”

Allanon came up to Rhys and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, cheer up, big guy. It’s not your fault. We’ll find some other way in, right?”

Grundar’s eyes gleamed as he suddenly remembered something. "We could teleport into the storage room just outside the well room. It had a bunch of crates, sacks and stuff. From there, its just the double doors to reach the beholder’s lair."

“I can do it,” said Jelani. “Just a dimension door away.”

“Then let’s not stand out here in the open like bait,” grunted Rumar. “Do it.”

As the group prepared for the upcoming fight, they failed to notice Rhys’ embarassment. _They shame me by ignoring my failure!_ the priest thought to himself. _How could I've been so stupid as to not take that spell today. Oh, sure they figured a way around it. Perhaps that's the problem: THEY always figure out a way around my short comings._ With a relatively blank look, Rhys prepared a few defensive spells. Then he joined the others around Jelani, who cast his spell, sending them off through the ether.

--

“Damn! He’s not here!” cursed Grundar.

The group had appeared in the storage room and quickly raced into the orrery, to find it empty. Orichalxos’ spellbooks and personal treasure were all about the room, but the beholder-mage were nowhere to be seen.

The elf sighed and moved to kick at the mobile of globes in the rooms center, when the faintest whisper of movement caught his attention. Turning swiftly around, he noticed two horrid creatures floating down the stairs and moving to block the hallway. They looked like sickly-green floating man-of-war jellyfish. Their bodies pulsed and rippled, and dangling from them were a number of barbed tentacles.

“We’ve got company!” he shouted, pointing to the two grotesque beasts. The others turned to look, though Allanon, Rhys, and Rumar could see nothing but empty air. The other members of the group all had enchantments up that allowed them to see invisible creatures.

“I’ll take your word for it!” said Allanon, weaving a spell. “Shield your eyes!” With that, he sent a scintillating spray of colors at the invisible assailants. The spray washed over them, but he could not see what effects it had had on the creatures.

“One of them’s gone!” said Grundar. “Good work!” He drew his rapier and watched the thing approaching, ready to stab it when it came within range.

“May Torm guide my aim,” Rhys prayed as he sent three bullets sailing at the thing from his sling. Two of the shots went wide, but the third connected, puncturing its body. A jet of greenish, foul smelling gas shot out of the hole.

Rumar shifted about uneasily as the gas emerged from a seemingly empty patch of hallway. He preferred his enemies visible; obviously evil was also always a bonus. "I suppose I'll just have to wait for whatever it is to come to me then, eh?" he grunted, stepping in front of the mages and assuming a defensive stance.

Jelani blinked at the remaining creature. It was certainly ugly enough. Who knew if it was actually dangerous, but it would be best if everyone could see it all the same. He began to chant holding his holy symbol of Akadi in front of him, and a glowing golden wisp of smoke floated from his hand, curling around the room and causing the invisible creature to appear to those who had been previously unable to see it.

The hole in its body began to close as the thing suddenly jetted through the air and lashed out at Grundar with a barbed tendril. The elf stabbed the thing as it drew up in front of him, but his rapier doesn't even penetrate its body. The tendril went straight for Grundar’s eyes, but the nimble rogue dodged aside as the tendril shot past his head.

Terenon wove a spell and sent a thin green ray at the thing. It struck the creature's gassy body, tearing a small hole through it. Even as he watched though, the hole began to grow back.

"There are subtler ways to kill something," said Allanon, shaking his head. He invoked the words to a spell and felt wild magic surging through him, adding power and effectiveness to the spell (and not blowing him up for a change). A shadowy image appeared and touches the creature. The thing jerked smasmodically as it died from fright, then suddenly its body exploded in a blast of toxic gas. Grundar was caught in the poisonous fumes, and he coughed violently as he stumbled out of it. He felt weak and sick.

Rhys quickly moved to check on the poisoned elf. Terenon gave Allanon the thumbs up for his selection on spells. It was true that the mage usually went with brute force when other options were available, but he was an evoker after all. 

Terenon paced the room for a bit then his eyes lit up. "I think I know what’s been happening here. I think the beholder and the scepter of the ar-magus are still in the area."

The mage saw the questioning looks on his companions faces. He continued, "The beholder was doing quite a bit of research on the Selskar Order, but cared nothing of the prison of the Firebringer. He only wanted the Acolytes gone. He said he wanted the Vale for himself."

"I think that the scepter was originally created for some other purpose than imprisoning the Firebringer. I think the scepter was originally created for a ritual for opening a portal to the plane of Limbo, for the deal with the Firebringer. The Ar-Magus disovered that instead he could use the power of the scepter to imprison the Firebringer."

"Remember the room opposite the lava room where the Firebringer’s prison was? I think that room was where the portal was supposed to be. I don't believe the beholder has any ties to Acessiwal, but instead has made a pact with the githyanki. Why? Well, who are the sworn enemy of the githyanki, besides mind flayers? The githzerai. And where do the githzerai live? On the plane of Limbo." 

"The beholder is probably playing two fronts. One with the githyanki and another with the slaadi. If he can open the gate he will have great pull with both cultures. As for why the red dragons are here, the githyanki have a pact with them on the Prime Material Plane."

"I believe Orichalxos is still here and working on opening the portal. I can teleport us to the gate room, but I won't have another to teleport us out. We can fight our way there, but I doubt we will reach it with enough power to fight the beholder."

Jelani listened to Terenon’s theory with interest. It was fascinating the way the man’s mind worked. He was very bright, but for someone so...rigid, he tended to jump to a lot of conclusions. “Well, that’s one way to look at it, and it’s certainly a valid possibility,” the mystic theurge said. “Another thing to consider is that most times when you destroy a creature from another layer of existence, it is actually banished back to its own plane; the Firebringer was specifically barred from doing that. So then, perhaps the creature’s destruction on this plane, combined with that barrier reacted in a way no one had foreseen, creating sort of an inter-dimensional explosion; weakening or even tearing the fabric between our two existences. Though I suppose warping would be a better word.” 

“Or I suppose that the githyanki could have just been there when the sealed doorway that had been created summoning Bazim-Gorag suddenly opened…any or all of this could be true: the question at hand is what we can and should do about it.”

“The githyanki presence makes more sense to me now,” said Rhys. “As Jelani had mentioned the Firebringer’s death has attracted some attention to both the event and to us. Beings of that stature tend to take notice when one of their kind passes. Even while bound, his presence was a focal point and now the balance--or perhaps I should say the game that they play--has been altered. A piece has been removed from the game and new ones have appeared. Make no mistake: we've all been added to the game as pawns, though I say that with no measure of disrespect. Whomever each of us serves is taking a new look at us.” The passion in Rhys's eyes and tone of his voice showed a firm conviction to his belief in what he's saying.

Jelani glanced at his companions, making sure they were all paying attention. “The truth is that we’re unaware of the situation within the complex and we have several options. First, we can do as Terenon suggests and teleport blindly into the gate room, not necessarily a bad plan, but one to be taken with caution. Secondly, we could fight through all the forces that are there and then confront the beholder. We could return to Silverymoon, and spend a day or two preparing ourselves for this specific fight, but that would let our foes more time to prepare as well. Lastly, we could teleport into the ruins near where the gate is located, say the tomb, and take it from there, but then we might have to fight some of the beholder’s guards. Am I missing anything? Whatever we decide, I’ll be able to teleport us out if the situation gets grim.”

Terenon nodded in agreement. "Anything is possible, but one thing is for sure. Something is being protected here, and we have little alternative but to investigate. The plan of teleporting to the Crypt is a good one. It is secreted away, and probably of little interest to anyone. As long as we don't disturb the crypts, it will be a safe place to teleport into. The ghosts there may even have some information for us."

"Unless there any objections. I will take us there now."


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## ltclnlbrain

I guess everybody got excited when the boards came up. I don't think many people got a chance to see the update. Normally I am loathe to post such a shameless BUMP, but perhaps it will be best for all involved.


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## Graywolf-ELM

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> I guess everybody got excited when the boards came up. I don't think many people got a chance to see the update. Normally I am loathe to post such a shameless BUMP, but perhaps it will be best for all involved.




Nope, I read it.  I am subscribed, so when I check My Account, I saw that it was updated.

GW


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## Terenon

*Battle*

The upcomming battle was a point of contension with the PCs. The magic item I created was, shall we say, very effective.


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## Gramcrackered

Just so any of you out there watching know, ltclnlbrain's been having some hurricane troubles.  He'll continue when he can.

But if he doesn't...
*shakes fist warningly at Itchlnlbran*


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## ltclnlbrain

Yeah, I actually had a long post ready to go, but the power went out during a storm and I hadn't saved the file yet.   I'll get something up when I get a chance, but with schoolwork and hurricanes and the other miscellany of life, it may be a while yet.  Please be patient with me. I have not abandoned you.


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## Terenon

*Bump*

A shameless bump, to the front page. I may be bias, but this is a great story. Hopefully this bump will snag a few more loyal readers


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## ltclnlbrain

I swear, one of these days I'll get something up.  Maybe later today, if I have time.  The show must go on...eventually.


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## ltclnlbrain

Chapter 26

Upon teleporting within the ancient crypt, they found the Selskaryn watchghosts had passed on, their duty done now that the Firebringer had been slain.  Terenon conjured an arcane eye and sent it to scout the rest of the complex. The arcane eye dropped down the well and into the Vault of Stars at the bottom. It peeked into the open door of the Chamber of Binding; finding nothing there, it headed north into the cavern filled with bubbling lava. Heading to where the fake door was located, the sensor saw nothing. It floated back across the cavern into the former prison of the Firebringer. The prison is also empty.

The sensor headed back into the Vault and up through the well, exiting at the top floor. It went through nearly every room in the complex, finding each one empty and silent. After several minutes of fruitless searching, the sensor winked out of existence, having found no signs of life within the entire Dungeon of the Ruins.

"If the beholder is not here, what is the point of discerning the giths’ motives?" Rumar asked quietly. "It seems simple enough; he has set them up as some sort of surprise for when we came looking. While I do not object to confronting them, be it politely or with battle, I do not think sneaking around is a good idea. If we are discovered, we will be in a very bad situation indeed."

Terenon looked at Rumar, a bit astonished. "Even though the beholder is nowhere to be seen, there are still at least three gith dragon riders in the Vale and close to civilized lands. Should we not at least find the reason they're here?"

Rumar grunted. “I was merely expressing a desire for caution.”

“If we are going after these githyanki, we’re going to need a plan,” said Grundar.  He reached an arm out into the Well of Stars, attracting a few motes of positive energy to heal the wounds he had gotten from the exploding gas-creature.  “There’s no way we can stand head to head with these guys.”

“Their greatest advantage is their ability to fly,” mused Allanon.  “I can enchant anybody who needs it with a _fly_ spell to increase your mobility and keep up with them.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Rhys. “Once we get closer, I’ll summon some winged allies to bolster our cause.  We should be careful to remain hidden from the dragons and their riders as long as possible.  Stick to the underbrush as best you can.”

The others nodded and prepared for combat. Once everybody was ready, they floated up the Well of Stars.

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

Terenon winced as Rumar’s heavy boot came down with a crunch on a sizable piece of undergrowth.  The dragons were not so far away now, circling over the clearing that contained the barracks house at the base of the hill, and apparently the tales of the beasts’ extraordinary senses were true. One of the wyrms turned its red-scaled head in the party’s direction and let out a reverberating cry. This cry was echoed by its two brethren, and the dragons propelled themselves through the air on leathery wings, their githyanki riders readying wicked lances as they approached.

“Here they come!” cried Allanon. The wild mage launched into a spell, altering the nature of his magic to substitute one energy type for another.  A powerful bolt of jagged cold shot out from his outstretched hands, shearing through the lead dragon’s wing.  The bolt then arced off to the other wyrms and their riders, filling the air with cries of pain.  But still the dragons flew on.

“Torm!” cried Rhys, lighting a small candle as he invoked a spell.  “Send us your griffons to aid us!”  A golden portal began to open as he worked his summoning magic.  Jelani smiled at the priest.  “A good idea, but I think they can use a bit of help.”  With that he began a summoning spell of his own.

Terenon considered his options as he watched Grundar shuffle forward through the undergrowth, hoping to break out into the clearing where he would have more room to maneuver.  That was when a horrid singing noise came from the clearing up ahead. The mage had little time to ponder what this portended when three rays shot out towards the adventurers! Grundar dodged aside as a red ray sailed past him, and Allanon ducked a green ray that completely disintegrated a tree behind him, leaving only fine ash behind. His attention distracted, Terenon saw too late the crackling black ray heading straight for him. It struck the mage in the chest, sending curling fingers of negative energy clutching for his heart. He gasped and coughed, but managed to push away the energy before it could stop his heart.

Then the dragons were upon them.

The lead dragon-riding githyanki swooped down at Grundar and stabbed him right through the chest with his lance, the wicked weapon exploding out the poor elf’s back. Grundar screamed in pain as the gith lifted him off the ground, positioning him so that his mount could tear a chunk from the rogue with its toothy maw. The dragon shook the elf back and forth before dropping him to the ground in a pool of blood. Grundar groaned as he staggered to his feet. 

The other two dragons barreled down at Jelani and Rhys, sending out roaring blasts of fire from their mouths. Luckily, the adventurers had been prudent enough to ward themselves against fire before the battle broke out, so the flames did little to disrupt the summoners. Jelani barely dodged a lance strike from a githyanki as he concentrated on his spell, and Rhys nimbly stepped aside as the dragon blazes past.  The wyrms rose again into the air and circled around in preparation for another pass.

Terenon saw all this and decided. He could not wait any more. The time had come to play his trump card.

Terenon had labored long and hard over the past few weeks, shaping the skin of Bazim-Gorag into the magical cloak he now wore about his shoulders. Ignoring all the chaos of the unfolding battle around him, the mage uttered a long and complex word. The cloak forged of slaad skin began to billow about him, buffeted by an unseen wind. Two large bulges appeared from within its folds, slipping out to reveal themselves.

They were the twin skulls of Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer. They floated around Terenon’s head and came to rest on his shoulders. The mage’s face went slack as the eye-sockets of both skulls flared to life, each eye a swirling pool of white flame.

“We are ready—“ said one skull in a gravelly voice.

“—to fight,” finished the second one.

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

Rumar had begun to rise up into the air, sword and shield at the ready. The entire impressive stance was rather abruptly shattered when he spotted Terenon's change. Rumar's eyes widened as he looked at the mage with shock, clearly uncertain whether this was a good or bad thing he was witnessing.

However, while his eyes may have been looking elsewhere, his wings were still propelling him along. Somehow, he managed to slap into a low tree-limb, sending the paladin slowly spinning about as he attempted to regain control.


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## Graywolf-ELM

It looks like you've survived the winds.  I look forward to some kind of explanation of the Skulls, and what they are.

GW


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## Gramcrackered

Well, let me put it this way...for a while, they were a huge deal, and then...eh...not so much.


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## Grundar

*cool stuff*

It was a cool magic item, fashioned with the remains of our first adversary.. I wonder what we'll do with the remains of our current one once we dealt with him.. :>


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## Terenon

*New magic Item*

I have been thinking about that Grundar. I was thinking about going with the skull theme, but the new advisary is way too large. Maybe boots with matching gloves made from its hide, or a necklace made from its teeth.

The Cloak of Bazim-Gorag was surprisingly cheap to make. After all is said and done. it was created with 33000 gp. I won't put up its stats until we get to see it used in the story. 

What Gram said was right, We had to nerf the Scorching ray spell and the  magic item.


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## Grundar

*broke*

I'll be amazed if we get some loot left over after the final fight(i'm guessing some of us might die in the fight). True rezs cost a lot of $$. Come on Rhys, level up and get those true rezs so we don't have shell out most of our loot to pay for rezzes..


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## ltclnlbrain

Actually, getting somebody else to cast true resurrection isn't that much more expensive then casting it yourself, relatively speaking.  The major cost of the spell comes from the material component: a diamond worth 25,000 gp. Even if Rhys could cast the spell, he'd still need that component.  You'd save a little more than 1500 gp each time, though.


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## ltclnlbrain

Hmm, I think I much prefer these short updates to the massive ones you guys are used to getting.  They may not contain as much material, but at least I can get them out faster.  Enjoy this latest installment. 

Chapter 27

The battle raged on around him, but Terenon was not worried.  The magic of his cloak had been successful, and the wizard’s mind was now split in twain.  Thoughts raced back and forth between Bazim-Gorag’s skulls in the blink of an eye as he formulated a plan.

A blast of cold lightning sprang from Allanon’s fingertips, tearing open vicious wounds in the dragons and their riders and leaving them rimed with frost.  More rays sailed through the trees as Terenon, with the benefit of a fly spell he had already cast, rose into the air.  The mage saw Grundar, though horribly wounded, manage to dodge aside a black ray.  Rumar, who had just managed to get untangled from the tree branches, was struck by a yellow ray that seemed to slow his movements, and Rhys grunted as a green ray tore into his shoulder.  Then Terenon was above the treeline and could see the source of the rays.

The bulbous form of Orichalxos the beholder-mage floated in the clearing.  Eight images of the aberration twisted and danced about as the aberration continued its horrid spellsong.  The mage spared the beholder only a passing glance before swiveling around to face the three dragons, already beginning to barrel toward him, claws outstretched.  The githyanki riders lowered their lances, ready to skewer the apparently defenseless target.

The fools.

“You picked the wrong mage…” began the first of the slaadi skulls as Terenon’s hands began a series of complicated gestures.

“…to mess with,” completed the second as Terenon released his spells.

He made a grasping motion with his left hand, and the githyanki riders suddenly froze in place, paralyzed by the powerful spell.  He then thrust forth his right hand, shooting forth an enormous cone of bitter cold coupled with shards of tearing ice.  One of the dragons plummeted from the sky, its wings torn asunder by the spell.  It spiraled down into the forest, snapping its neck against a tree before impacting the ground with enough force to sever its rider’s spine.

With but a thought, Terenon released the spells he had stored in a sequencer earlier that morning.  Twelve rays of sonic force sprang from his forehead, six crashing headlong into each of the remaining wyrms.  The dragons wailed in anguish as the energy rays battered them about, wails that were abruptly cut off as their bodies reached the threshold of the punishment they could take.  Two more holes were torn in the canopy as the wyrms fell from the sky.

Down below, Jelani and Rhys completed their summoning spells.  Jelani had conjured forth two glowing balls of light, lantern archons, and he instructed them to head out into the clearing.  A few celestial griffons emerged from Rhys’ portal, and the priest had them remain nearby as the rest of the group advanced on the clearing.

Grundar grunted as he staggered up to a tree and activated his ring of blink.  He had learned his lesson from the lance strike, and he wanted to be sure he was well protected once he reached the clearing.  As he looked up, though, he heard a crackling noise and instinctively pulled back.  The elf winced as an enormous bolt of lightning struck Jelani and knocked the theurge back before arcing over to Allanon and Rhys.  All of them cried out in pain as the electricity played over their bodies.  Grundar began to move over to help them, when their came several flashes of light.

When the light cleared, four creatures stood in the party’s midst.  They appeared to be crosses between githyanki and red dragons, with scaled red skin, shaggy black hair, and large, ridged ears.  They raised greatswords that seemed to be made of liquid silver and prepared to strike.

“Look out!” the elf cried.


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 28*

Rhys stepped back in surprise as the four draconic githyanki materialized nearby. He parried one of the creature's strikes with his dragon-headed staff as he put his back against a nearby tree. He managed a glance off to his right, where the celestial griffons he had summoned were milling about, awaiting orders.

"Griffons of Torm!  Take them out!" he called. The great winged beasts wasted no time, pouncing upon the gith warriors and savaging them with their leonine claws. The aasimar smiled in satisfaction as the griffons beat back the three warriors...wait, three?  Where was the fourth one?

A noise behind Rhys alerted him to danger, and he whirled around to see the final githyanki warrior behind him, its silvery sword already angling in toward his midsection. The gith grinned in savage satisfaction, but the grin abruptly turned to a snarl and his eyes widened as the point of a rapier exploded through his chest. Rhys stepped back from the githyanki's now-futile swing as the warrior toppled over, revealing Grundar standing over his fallen form.

"Thanks," said Rhys. 

 Grundar smiled and shot him a brief salute. "Let's get those other three," the elf said, but he had to turn his head as a blast of freezing cold filled the woods. When the frost cleared, the celestial griffons were standing triumphantly over the frozen corpses of the other warriors.

"Already taken care of," Jelani said smugly, floating several feet off the ground.

Meanwhile, Rumar had untangled himself from the trees was making a beeline straight for the clearing. From his vantage point, he could see the source of the previous lightning bolt: a female githyanki clad in tight linen wrappings that didn't seem to be filling their primary purpose.  Near her floated a large disk of force upon which rested two large chests and a scepter; the scepter of the ar-magus, the very scepter that Yarrick Zan had procured from the hoard of the Firebringer.

But the paladin's focus was on the vile beholder-mage. Unfortunately, it seemed that Orichalxos' focus was on Rumar as well. Three of the aberration's eyes angled upward and fired off green, red, and black rays respectively. The paladin grunted as the magic tore at his flesh and his soul. The beholder-mage altered the pitch of its spell-song, and several missiles of magic energy and a large lightning bolt shot forth at Rumar.

"We need to take it out!" Rumar called. "Now!"

Terenon surveyed the destruction he had wrought on the dragons and their riders with satisfaction. The battle continued to rage around him, but he didn't seem to take notice. However, once Rumar called out for aid, the mage calmly swiveled in the air and looked down into the clearing. He nodded, and the two slaad heads began chanting in unison. Terenon held both of his hands straight out, and the mage was nearly knocked back as twin lightning bolts shot out from his hands and straight at Orichalxos. 

Surprised, the thing was caught by both bolts; its song abruptly became a screeching scream of pain as the energy coursed through its body. Its eye stalks began to melt and burst, and through its empty central eye, the adventurers could see arcs of electricity playing about the cavity. Smoke rose from its fried carcass as it slowly drifted to the ground and was still.

The githyanki woman spat something in her own tongue as she hustled over to the disk of force. She grabbed the scepter and began to concentrate, her form growing insubstantial. Then, she was gone.


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 29*

Grundar blinked a bit to clear the disorientation from the teleportation spell.  One would think that he'd be used to it by now, but there was still something unnatural in traveling hundreds of miles in the blink of an eye.  An icy wind blew across the cold grasslands, announcing winter's steady approach.

The elf looked around a bit to get his bearings.  The only thing that divided the fields of white snow on his left and right were the tracks of wagons, horses, and boots that had passed this way before. Falling snow stung his face with the bite of frost, needlessly reminding him of the lateness of the season.

Only a few days had passed since the battle in the Selskar Vale.  Though Orichalxos had been slain in the fight, the githyanki mage had absconded with the scepter of the ar-magus. As the party had approached the barracks house, they could see that it had been fixed up somewhat from their last visit. Iron shutters now adorned the windows, and it seemed that the roof had been repaired. The doors were hot to the touch, and they were assaulted by a blistering heat when they opened them.

Inside was a ghastly sight; a sunken pool of boiling mucous filled the room with a horrid stench. Partially immersed in the foot-deep pool were dozens of large gray eggs covered with red speckles. Terenon announced that they appeared similar to red dragon and githyanki eggs, possibly belonging to the hybrid warriors they had fought.  Unfortunately, there was nothing beyond the eggs to signify what the githyanki had planned for the Vale.  Taking the eggs to a safe location, the party was forced to withdraw from the Vale with no solution to this mystery.

And from that place of heat and flame, they came now to a land of wind and snow.  The tiny hamlet of Finch was the northenmost outpost of humanity south of the Spine of the World, far to the north and west of Silverymoon. They had come here hoping to find clues to the location of the lair of the white wyrm Acessiwal.  The dragon had secretly been the one who had hired them to take on the Acolytes of the Hidden Flame and the slaad lord Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer. With the cultists out of the way, the wyrm was now free to pursue his own schemes of domination.  The party was determined to make surer that this did not come to pass.

Grundar turned to his companions, smiling wryly.  "Hey Terenon, aren't you glad we are dressed appropriately for the trip this time?"

Terenon couldn't help but grin.  The elf was referring to the time that they had entered a teleportation circle in the Dungeon of the Ruins that had transported them to the Sea of Moving Ice...but their clothing and equipment had been left behind.  Fortunately, the mage had another teleport spell prepared to bring them back before anything untoward could occur.  This time, each member of the party had purchased heavy fur clothing to insulate them from the cold.  Each of them also sported a pair of magical boots that allowed them to travel over snow and ice without difficulty.

"Indeed," said the mage. "It would have been even more interesting if Allanon had accidentally transformed himself into a woman _before_ we stepped into the circle."

The wild mage, who sported new magical robes of the purest white, feigned anger at the remark. "You're just mad that I looked better than you did," he said indignantly.

All three friends laughed at the good-natured joking.  Ahead of them, Rumar turned his helmeted head over his shoulder, his golden eyes showing obvious disapproval.  Beside the paladin, Rhys smiled and shook his head.  "Let them have their fun," he said. "Laughter is good for the soul. The time will come for duty soon enough."

Rumar turned forward once more, his heavy armor creaking as he walked. "I only hope that they can quell their passions long enough this time to remember their duty. The battle with Bazim-Gorag may not have been so disastrous if they had waited long enough for me to return."

Rhys said nothing. The priest had been one of the casualties of that fight, along with both Grundar and Jelani. The entire party could have easily been wiped out had Torm not been with them that day. What would his parents have thought of him then, Rhys wondered.

The priest's musings were interrupted as Jelani descended in front of him. The mystic theurge adjusted his wide-brimmed feathered hat and gestured to the north.

"There's a small village up ahead. It must be Finch. It seemed like a lot of people were heading this way, and in a hurry."

"Then let us not delay," said Rumar, striding off through the snow.

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

It was only a few minutes later that the party intercepted the group of emigrants.  They looked to be simple villagers, mostly humans except for a gnome woman who led them. They were moving quite quickly, and the majority of them bore fearful expressions. Some of them--including the gnome--were armed. The woman hailed the group as they approached. "Turn back! A demon has taken Finch!" she shouted.

Grundar stepped forward in the gnome's path, forcing her to stop her panicked flight. "What is this demon you speak of? We may be able to help you get rid of it."

"I'm Cirilli," said the gnome. "Cirilli Treetopweaver. I'm the constable's deputy in Finch, the village there. My home.

"You have to turn around! Finch isn't safe. An hour ago, a great white demon flew down from the sky! It landed right outside Saul's store, next to the old shrine! We all ran before it could kill us...

"Constable Helmyr and I usually handle things like drunken trappers and hunters, not demons. It looked like a massively muscled man covered in white scales, with icy breath that spewed forth from its mouth as it roared. We've heard rumors of this demon before. According to some of the rumors, villagers returned to their town after a few hours to find nothing missing and the demon gone.

"Those are just rumors though, and we can't take that risk. We're heading to another settlement southeast of here to wait out the creature, then we'll come back in a few days. I suggest you do the same." 

Rhys spread his arms in a calming gesture. "Please, people, do not let despair take hold.  I am Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm. My companions and I will see what we can do about this demon."

Jelani nodded. "I shall fly ahead and see what's going on in the village." He glanced at Rumar. "Care to join me?"

Rumar's gaze had been locked on the village in the distance ever since the first cry of 'demon.' He nodded as he readied his shield and sword. "It would be risky to go alone. If you wish to travel there I will come along to make sure nothing goes awry."

The two took to the air and were gone.


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 30*

Smoky plumes rose from the chimneys of Finch, but nothing stirred among the stone houses or humble dwellings of wood and thatch. The village looked abandoned, and there was no sign of the threat that drove the people away.

As the mystic theurge and paladin landed in the hamlet's central square, Rumar cocked his head to the side. Noises were coming from a nearby building labeled "Tratern's Goodstuffs." The aasimar gestured to the building, and Jelani nodded before silently creeping to the window. Peering inside, he could see that the store was cluttered and cramped. Boxes laid stacked about the walls and carpets, coats, and furs littered the floor without any apparent organization.

Standing near one wall was a six-foot-tall humanoid creature wearing a breastplate that was either painted white or polished to such a degree so as to create the effect. Indeed, it was difficult to distinguish at a glance where the armor ended and the creature's scaly white skin began. A thin red cloak added the only color to its appearance. At a distance, the creature might have passed for a pale human. Up close, the sharpened claws, reptilian eyes, and long teeth marked it as...something else.

The creature was buisly looking over the shelves along the far wall. A small collection of things--mostly foodstuffs--had been stacked on the floor next to the creature. 

Jelani looked the creature up and down, a thin smile coming to his lips. He had to give the fellow one thing: he was quite the snappy dresser. He turned to Rumar and gave an 'all-clear' signal, then strode brazenly into the store. "You don't look like much of a demon to me, but maybe that's just the life experience," he said aloud.

The creature turned to regard the two men as they entered the shop, its nostrils flaring as its gaze fell upon them. "My name is Taigiel," it said in unaccented Common. "You do not have the look of a villager about you. And you are not afraid. You have no reason to be: I will not hurt you. People tend to run before I have a chance to explain myself though. The curse of my heritage no doubt."

"Maybe it's rude to ask, but I just have to know: Why did you stop at the shrine first?” Though Jelani's tone was matter-of-fact, there was just a touch of a grin on his face.

"My mother always taught me to honor the gods. It is a good practice in this unforgiving land. Wherever I go, I am feared and reviled. Demon, they call me. Devil. Monster. I am none of these, yet no village, town, or city of men will accept me. I am the son of Acessiwal, the infamous white dragon of the tundra. I traveled far from these cold lands to escape my terrible birth and the curse my father bequeathed to me. Now, I have returned to fulfill my destiny. You are adventurers, yes? I am curious as to your reason for being here." 

“Soon you will not be the only one feeling the curse of your father," said Jelani. The theurge leaned against the store's wall, arms crossed. "We have learned of plans that he has to conquer this area, all the way down past the great city of Silverymoon. I’m not in the business of limiting people’s choices; the goddess would not look kindly upon that. So we are here to stop your father and his minions, before he imposes his will upon too much of the world. And what of your own plans…this destiny of which you speak?” 

Taigiel nodded, his face set with grim determination. "I have trained and readied myself, searching for a band of heroes to help me slay my father. By ending the dragon's terrible reign, I pray that the gods will grant me peace. Perhaps then, people will see me as something more than a monster. I beg for your help. I want nothing in return--no glory, riches, or fame. I just hope that once Acessiwal is dead, the gods shall grant me peace and rest." 

Rumar watched the interchange impassively, unobtrusively narrowing his eyes. Mortal flesh could be deceiving; the half-dragon's soul would reveal the truth.

Jelani only partially suppressed a laugh at Taigiel’s words, instead just letting out a snort. “People will see you as a monster whether or you slay your father or not. But it is worth doing in any case, and there will be those who know of your great deed, which could help a bit. Those who’ve seen more of the world will be more likely to see you as a person than a monster; but they would have before. Your help would be welcome but we’ve learned that he has at least one child helping him; your brother or sister. Just how far are you willing to go with this, Taigiel?"

Taigiel thumped his right hand across his chest and stared at Jelani with determination in his reptilian eyes. "I swear by Tempus that I will fight beside you until either I or Acessiwal lie dead and bleeding on the icy plains. I will slay all of his vile progeny, all of my brothers and sisters, if it means being able to confront my father once and for all. I can take you to Coldheart, the lair of the white wyrm, if you decide to fight alongside me. Together we can rid my father's stain from this world." 

"A bold statement," Rumar said abruptly, sheathing his sword. He had found no problem with the dragonspawn nor his claims. "Let us go rejoin the others then - best you remain behind us initially, so they do not grow alarmed at your sight and attempt to slay you. At least until we explain you mean no harm." 

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

"Why now?" asked Terenon. "What has changed, that you race to destroy your family?"

Taigiel fixed the mage with a solemn expression. "I was forced to flee my hometown of Latona at the age of ten. I kept to the wilderness, ashamed of my heritage, and waging a private war against orcs, ogres, and other evil creatures of the lands. Three months ago, wracked with despair and loneliness, I came across an abandoned shrine to Tempus. There, I heard a voice. It could only have belonged to the god himself. The voice pronounced that only with the death of my sire could I be free."

Taigiel thumped his hand to his chest and nodded. "Acessiwal must die. That is all there is to it." 

Terenon gave a slight smile and said, "Who am I to argue with a god?" He turned to his other companions and looked into each of their eyes. "Well, as the barbarians say, 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth.' But we can't run around with him looking as he does. We will need to disguise him. I have nothing long-lasting to accomplish that. Perhaps we can get him an item to aid in that." Terenon knew it was a bit rude the way he talked about their new addition, but such half-breeds were distasteful to him. Like a wild animal, one could turn on you at any moment.

Terenon addresseds Taigiel once more. "It would seem we have the same goals. I have no objections to you joining us. However, I do not speak for everyone. If you are to join, tell us your skills and what you can bring to our cause. Information? Sword arm? Magic?"

"I am quite skilled with sword and bow, and I know the ways of the tundra well," said the half-dragon. There was no pride evident in his voice: he was merely stating facts. "I am adept at staying alive in the wilderness and tracking creatures across the frozen plains. I can also cast a few spells, though nothing too spectacular. I also know the approximate location of Acessiwal's lair. A few weeks ago, I was met by a pair of my father's servants outside of Latona and told how to reach Coldheart so that I might return to my father's side and help him enslave the southlands. I spat on their offer and fled."

"An extra blade by our side certainly won't hurt," said Grundar. "I say we let him join us."

"Aye," seconded Allanon. "Welcome to the group."

Taigiel nodded. "You will not regret this decision."

"We'll see," said Terenon. "Now, we need to--"

The sound of heavy footfalls interrupted whatever the mage was about to say. Whirling to the north, the party saw three nine-foot tall creatures striding toward them. Glistening against the icy background, they resembled humanoid skeletons either encased in or composed of solid ice. Their arms ended in wickedly sharp claws.

"Servants of Acessiwal!" cried Taigiel.

"So soon?" asked Grundar.


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## Grundar

*A new adventure begins*

It took awhile, but we finally started a new module. Reading it again brought back some memorable moments.


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 31*

Rhys peered at the icy monstrosities, holding forth his holy symbol. "They are constructs, not undead. May Torm's celestial flames reduce these things to water!" A roaring column of divine flame engulfed the ice golems, melting the snow at their feet. The golems, while not damaged, were slowed by the spell, and their movements turned to jerky lurching as they approached.

Grundar loosened his bow and fired off an arrow toward the golems, but the projectile merely broke against its thick hide. "I hate constructs!" the rogue cursed. "Stupid boneheads."

"These things are resistant to normal weapons and most magic," said Taigiel. "It will take some time to wear them down directly."

Rumar leveled his blade at the creatures, backpedaling as they slowly, mindlessly advanced. He looked over his shoulder at the others, disbelief evident in his golden eyes. "We could always just walk away from them, I suppose."

"I've got an idea," said Jelani, smiling thinly.  He stepped up beside the paladin and unleashed a spell, sending a cone of cold at the golems.  It did not hurt them, but that was not the plan. Rhys' flame strike had melted the snow and ice around the golems' feet, and now their legs were mired in the slush. The melted snow flash-froze again as Jelani's spell hit it, and the golems' feet were stuck fast in solid ice.

"Nice work!" said Grundar. "That should hold them for a while."

"Let's leave them here," said Terenon. "No need to risk ourselves needlessly. They seemed to me to be attuned to Taigiel; no doubt Acessiwal sent them to track him down."

Rumar stepped back, wearing an expression of worry. "I take little heart in our inability to defeat Acessiwal if we are unable to vanquish its minions," the paladin says unceertainly, turning to give the golems a second glance, "Especially if they were sent expecting to encounter only one warrior. The fact that we will now have to worry whether or not these things will free themselves and fall upon us at an inopportune time is also hardly a good thought." 

"If they are like most golems, they will be vulnerable to adamantine weapons," said Allanon. "We should find some before we go much further, if we wish to have a means of hurting these things later on."

Taigiel nodded. "We will head north to Latona. Let us be on our way." With that, the half-dragon began leading the group across the winterlands.

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

Helios stood before an amethyst pedestal carved to resemble a coiled purple worm, a bright crystal orb clutched in its toothy maw. He gazed intently at the image the orb showed him: three of his ice golems buried in ice and snow, struggling to be free. The wizard grimaced as he stared at his creations' failure. He was certain Taigiel would have been captured had it not been for the resourcefulness of the band of adventurers who arrived a few minutes before his golems did, the very band of adventurers he had been keeping an eye on for over a month now. 

It was now quite obvious that the bribe had not been successful: Terenon and the others were coming for Acessiwal, and they would be here soon. Helios tapped a finger against his chin as he thought about what to do next, then nearly jumped as a pair of hands clasped him by the shoulders.

"You really are tense, little one," a sultry voice whispered in his ear. Helios looked over his shoulder to see the snake-woman Akasa standing behind him. The wizard let out a sigh and turned back to the crystal ball.

"Having to deal with a demon that is constantly and suddenly appearing behind me doesn't do much to alleviate that," he retorted.

Akasa's upper hands begin to massage Helios' shoulders, while her middle hands kneaded his back and her lower hands wrapped around his waist. "You need not fear me, Helios. If I had wanted to kill you, I would have impaled you with my swords and crushed your puny bones with my tail weeks ago." The demon smiled coyly, eliciting a shudder from Helios.

The wizard squirmed his way out of Akasa's grasp, causing a pout to spread across her beautiful features. "Look, do me a favor and get those golems out of the ground. I have business to attend you and I don't appreciate you snooping around."

"Snooping?" Akasa asked, a wounded expression on her face. "Oh, how polite you are! I look out for your interests, keep Acessiwal in the dark about your plotting on the side, and you accuse me of snooping? That's no way to treat a friend."

"You are not my friend," said Helios coldly, then he sighed. "Fine then, what are you doing?"

The demon smiled, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Snooping," she said, then she disappeared.

Helios rubbed his temples with the heels of hands. That demon-bitch was a severe risk to his operations; given the chaotic nature of demons, there was always a chance she would go straight to Acessiwal and rat him out, but as long as he kept her happy and kept the true extent of his plans unknown to her, her aid was worth it. Looking back into his crystal ball, he saw Akasa helping the golems be free of their imprisonment. He mentally commanded them to follow the group north, hoping to overrun them, but now that they were getting close, extra steps needed to be taken. It was time to call in the wild card.

Helios waved his hand over the crystal ball, and the image changed to show a sparsely furnished room. A beautiful half-elf woman sat cross-legged on a plush pillow. Her eyes were closed as if in meditation, but after a few seconds they opened and stared directly at the scrying sensor. "I have been waiting for you to contact me," she said. "What would you have me do?"

Helios muttered the brief words to a spell to allow him to communicate with the woman over the great distance between them. "Terenon and his friends will be in Latona in the next few days. Do not let them leave."

The woman nodded. "Of course. Latona will be the end of their journey, in more ways than one."

Helios waved his hand once more, and the crystal ball went dark. These adventurers were canny, but should they escape the trap, he still had one more ace in the hole. The girl...


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> "Aye," seconded Allanon. "Welcome to the group."





Is this a new party member? or an NPC?  if the former, I like how you worked him into the game.

GW


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## ltclnlbrain

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Is this a new party member? or an NPC?  if the former, I like how you worked him into the game.




Taigiel is an NPC designed to add a little juice to the adventure.  Thanks for the compliment.


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## Faulkin

*More! More!*

I was referred to your site by Terenon, and I must say the story is awesome! I read the entire thing in about 2 days, and loved every minute of it. 

When are you going to post some more?! 

BTW, since I work with Terenon I've convinced him join the game again, so he should be back soon!


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## Graywolf-ELM

Wow, I hadn't thought of this thread for a good long while.  3 months to be sure.  I hope the game goes well.

GW


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## ltclnlbrain

::blows the dust off the thread::

Oh man.  Is this thing still around? 

Glad to hear you like the story, Faulkin.  And Terenon might come back?  That's great!  We'd love to have him back; the game's slowed down a bit lately, and he'd be just the kick we need to get things going again.  Plus there are some loose storylines we can tie up.

Sorry about not updating in a long time.  I got World of Warcraft and...well, you can imagine how that story goes.  MMORPGs are huge time sinks.  At any rate, there's still a lot of catching up that needs to be done. Look for an update by the end of the week probably.


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## Faulkin

*Woohoo!*

Yai! More Firebringer! I'm glad you think enough of your readers to post more; I've been pretty bored lately. I look forward to some good reading!


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 32*

"You travel upon our road, short ones. We demand you pay us a toll for using it."

Jelani rolled his eyes. The five frost giants who stood alongside the road ahead were illuminated by the fading rays of the setting sun. Behind the mystic theurge, his other companions and Taigiel watched the giants warily, hands hovering near their weapons. 

_Right, like we carry around a thousand gold pieces on each of our persons all the time,_ Jelani thought to himself.  He sighed and stepped forward before beginning to speak in the rumbling tongue of the Giant language.

"Don’t be foolish, we could crush the lot of you in less than a minute if we really had the desire. Luckily for you, we both have the same enemy. Take us to your leader and we’ll speak of an alliance to destroy the dragon Acessiwal. That is unless you’d prefer to be crushed under the might of the dragon’s armies?"

One giant stepped forward as well, laughing heartily. The other four shared the chuckle. "Tiny fool! Do you really think we would want to fight the white wyrm? He has crushed us many times in the past, scattered our once mighty kingdom into dozens of pitiful tribes! Our leaders are dead, and all we care about now is survival. Give us your money or we will take it from your dead corpses."

Though Rumar did not understand the language, there was one word that was unmistakable: Acessiwal. Alarmed, the paladin strode up beside Jelani.

""What have you told them of the dragon?" he asked Jelani, spreading his wings and slowly propelling himself up to look into the speaking giant's eyes. "Whatever you said, it seems clear their response was negative."

The giant stared at the paladin, snorting, as he reached into a bag at his waist and retrieved a boulder. He sneered at Rumar and casually tossed the rock up and down, a silent threat. Rumar nodded slightly. "If you have told them of our quest and they still refuse to remove themselves from our path, then they are clearly no more than spineless cowards," he continued, raising his voice loudly as he glared at the frost giants. 

Well, Rumar may not have been able to understand the giants, but the giants were certainly able to understand him, especially his words of challenge. They reared back and hurled enormous rocks at the paladin. A few clattered off his shield and armor, and two missed him completely, sending up plumes of snow as they hit the ground.

Roaring in challenge, the giants started forward, drawing enormous greataxes as they approached. "Your life ends here!"

Jelani snarled as he too began floating in the air, the winds of Akadi buoying up above the tundra. "Your choice is that your families have perished in vain, your bloodlines will end here and now; and there will be no vengeance. You truly honor the fallen by your cowardice...if you reconsider be clear about your surrender." He gestured and whispered a prayer, and a roaring column of divine flame engulfed the lead giant. The giant howled in pain as the fire seared his flesh.

"Jeez, so much for diplomacy," said Grundar, drawing his rapier and activating his blinking ring.

"Where diplomacy fails, might prevails, my friend," said Rhys. "Let Torm's holy flame show them the error of their ways!" In a mimic of Jelani's spell, the priest summoned another column of divine fire down on the lead giant. He staggered to a knee, barely able to keep standing.

Rumar grunted with some satisfaction as the boulders go tumbling about, signaling the beginning of the fight. Petty as it was, he was glad this had happened - nothing quite like a good ol' straight-forward battle with giants to help bolster the confidence.
Besides, perhaps if they proved they could handle themselves the giants would be willing to back down. Healing spells could always be administered after.

"Nostramos!" he bellowed, twin blasts of energy bursting forth from his eyes to hungrily seek his opponent's flesh. The searing lights burned into the lead giant, and with a groan he collapsed forward onto his face.

Terenon laughed to himself as he worked a powerful spell. "Frost giants are notoriously weak-minded. Time to _hold_ them all." And with that he unleashed a chained hold monster spell, tendrils of magic extending from his hands and seeping into their minds.

Terenon's triumphant smile quickly faded, though, as all four giants were utterly unaffected by the spell.

Releasing ululating battle cries, the giants charged forward, crashing into the front ranks and delivering devastating cuts with their massive axes. Grundar, Rumar, and Taigiel each took a hit, their blood staining the snow red.

"You spread your energies too thinly, Terenon," Allanon commented, grinning. He worked a spell similar to Terenon's though he focused solely on the giant engaging Taigiel. As the giant froze in place, the wild mage shot the evoker an imperious look.

In the thick of the melee, Taigiel snarled at the helpless giant. "I have killed many of your kind in the past, giant. You will not stop me from reaching Coldheart now!" Baring his vicious fangs, the half-dragon reared back and plunged his longsword deep into the giant's belly in a coup de grace. Taigiel tore the blade back out as the giant toppled backward, spilling entrails as it hit the ground with a resounding thud.

"Still fighting?" asked Jelani. "How about this?" He sent a coruscating ray of energy into the giant fighting Grundar, and the giant sagged noticeably as his strength was sapped from him. Seizing the opportunity, Grundar jabbed his rapier into the weakened giant, scoring two telling hits.

The other giant raised its axe to bring it down upon Rumar again, but before it could complete its attack, Rhys completed another spell and the axe shattered into numerous fragments. The giant cried out in surprise and shielded his eyes as the fragments flew past his face.

"Ha!" Rumar barked as he flitted about, slashing at the unarmed giant with Pergium. "We have you outnumbered now and outmanuvered! Surrender now while you still have the breath to do so, lest I run you through!"

The fourth giant, who had hung back thus far, called out a command and the two up front stopped fighting. As Grundar and Rumar lowered their weapons, the two wounded giants scurried back to a position of relative safety.

"We surrender," called the unwounded giant. "We did not expect you to be so powerful."

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

Taigiel stared at the giants menacingly, growling low in the back of his throat. "We should not let them leave this place," he said. "They are evil to the core, and will bully and hurt more travelers if we do not deal with them." 

Terenon gave the halfbreed a stern look. "They have more use than food for vultures. To succeed against Acessiwal, we will need to use cunning, make alliances, and choose our battles."

The half-dragon snarled louder as he loomed over the smaller wizard, but before it could come to blows, Rhys stepped between them. "Terenon don't criticize Taigiel for what he thinks," the priest told the mage. "I too don't trust the giants, but I do see the potential benifits that could come from an alliance with them against Acessiwal." Then he turned to Taigiel. "Taigiel, for one who'd been mistrusted all his life and considering the oath you swore, should not any aid, even form these evil giants, be considered valuable?" Both wizard and dragonspawn were silent for a few moments, then Taigiel spat on the snow and strode away a fair distance.

Terenon nodded, then moved forward a bit and called out to the giants. "We wanted to speak with you, not fight. Choose to be our allies and we will crush Acessiwal together. Your kind will triumph over the dragons and his minions with our aid." 

The giant spokesman regarded his two fallen brethren, then turned to glare at Terenon. "The fallen have met a valiant end and our with our lord Thrym now. Bring them back if you wish, but we will not fight the white wyrm. Too many of our number have already fallen to his minions: we are on the verge of extinction, having to extort and raid travelers just to maintain our existence. We cannot risk it further." 

Terenon's eyes flashed with anger. "A valiant end?!? They died for nothing. Look at you, you cower like kobolds before us. 'Please don't kill us little ones.' You are not worthy of an alliance. The wyrm has stripped you of courage. You are not worthy to speak the name of Lord Thrym. You are not worthy of your heritage. If you don't have the heart for revenge or to see your clans powerful once more, then run like cockroaches before torch light."

"If you seek their deaths, there is no better way than to belittle their pride and goad them into attacking," Rumar remarked as he strode to stand between Terenon and the giants. He favored the mage with a disapproving glare. "I had not thought you such a bloodthirsty person, Terenon. Do their lives mean so little to you? Are you that much better than them?"

Clearing his throat, Rumar nodded at the giants. "If you will not help us, than you may take your dead and leave. Know that I will brook no more of these occurances though - hear I of continued robbery and murder and I will be more than willing to consider thee and thy clan a lost cause. My fury will be no less intense than if you were to attempt retribution upon as directly."

The three giants stared daggers at Terenon, fists clenched. At Rumar's words, the spokesman nodded curtly. "We will not bother you further. You will have safe passage through our lands, at least from us. We will be on our way."

The other two giants picked up the fallen ones, hefting them bodily over their shoulders. They then turned west and walk off into the icy plains.  

Terenon shot a look at Rumar as the giants departed. The paladin seemed to be bound and determined to get under his skin. "I belittle nothing. They have no pride, Rumar. They have nothing to be proud of." 

The mage let his anger subside. The emotion was more about the waste of strong swordarms connected to the hearts of cowards, than anything else. "Yes, I am better than them. They serve no useful purpose. They provide no benefit to the world around them or to us."

"Does my sister know of how little you value the lives of others?" Rumar replied. "How you would have slaughtered those for no reason other than you see no reason for them to exist and because they were unwilling to throw their lives away for our cause? How would she look on you now, twisted with anger and so certain of your own worth?"

Rumar gestured in the direction the giant's have fled as he continued. "They are evil creatures, yet their lands have been shattered, their people slain; they are merely trying to survive. How they chose to deal with their situation was wrong, yet it does not merit them execution merely because you believe they do not serve enough purpose in the grand scheme of things. I would say that it is dubious at the end of the day whether or not you, nonetheless any of us, serve a benefit to the world around us. This is why I do not trust of you. This is why I will never approve of you, mage, or any relationship you may have with my sister. I fight to make it so ones such as they may perhaps live a better life one day, lifted from their squalor. Your reasons for battling often seem much less defined and prone to fits of emotion."

And then, after all that, Rumar concluded things with merely a shrug, apparently having decided that is the end of that. "Let us continue. I have no desire to fall prey to those golems that only may still remain trapped within the snow and ice." 

As the paladin walked away, Terenon couldn't help but feel amused. Rumar obviously had some very strong feelings about him dating his sister. He wondered if the paladin would explode when he found out that he wanted to marry her. He let Rumar have the last word. It was the least he could do for his future brother-in-law. Maybe he would ask him to be the best man. 

"Looks like its going to get dark soon," Grundar commented, still unsettled by the confrontation between Rumar and Terenon. "We'd better find a place to camp for tonight."


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

I haven't posted in this thread before, which is rather remiss of me, but I've read - and enjoyed - this story from the beginning. 

I'm glad to see that it hasn't died a complete death - hope to see more update soon.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 33*

"If we were just going to teleport to Baldur's Gate to begin with, why did we spend the day walking across the tundra? Perhaps next time you should speak of your plans before we waste time trekking across the winterlands. The skirmish with the giants could have easily been avoided." 

Taigiel snorted as the others entered the room at the Elfsong Tavern and shut the door behind them. It seems they had made it just in time, too, for Terenon's polymorph spell ran out and the son of Acessiwal, who had been temporarily changed into a human so as not to draw attention to himself, resumed his draconic form. Taigiel shook his head and thrashed his tail about in agitation.

"I wanted to try out my new boots." Jelani said matter-of-factly. ”Besides, we learned quite a bit from that little skirmish with the giants."

"Nothing more than what I could have told you, had you asked," Taigiel retorted. "If we could teleport here, then why could we not just teleport to Latona?"

"None of us have ever been there before," said Allanon from a position of comfort on the bed. The sorcerer idly played with his beard, combing out some errant flecks of snow. "Tomorrow morning Terenon's gonna prepare a scrying spell to study the area outside of town so we can all 'port there. It'll shave days off our journey."

"If we could do that, why not just scry on Acessiwal and teleport to his lair?" asked Rhys.

"I doubt that would be advisable," replied Allanon. "Our best bet is to take them by surprise, and if they detect the scrying, they will likely bolster their defenses. If we can sneak up on the lair by more mundane means, we should stand a better chance."

Taigiel muttered something about impatient wizards, but it was lost as the door opened and Grundar and Terenon entered, back from a brief shopping expedition. After the encounter with the golems, the group had decided to get items that would aid them should they encounter more of their ilk. Grundar sported a purplish-black scarab pinned on his shirt that would allow him to detect golems and bypass their resistances with his blade.

"Here, take this," said Terenon, tossing a helm to Taigiel. The half-dragon caught it and looked at it quizzically, sniffing the item.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It is a _helm of disguise_," replied Terenon. "It will cloak you in an illusion of a human so that you can enter town freely. It won't stand up to close scrutiny, though, so try not to let anybody touch you."

"Let's get some rest; we set out in the morning."


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Good to see you back.

GW


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## ltclnlbrain

Glad to be back. 

Since the last update was so short, here's another one.

*Chapter 34*

The next morning, Terenon cast a spell of scrying to gaze upon the area outside the town of Latona, a few miles out. He didn't know much of the town's inhabitants, but it was likely they would be surprised to see a band of heavily armed adventurers suddenly appear in the town's square. After studying a suitable spot for several minutes, he gathered everybody together and uttered a teleport spell, transporting them back to the frozen plains north of the Spine of the World.

Stretching out before the group, a small caravan was working its way slowly north. Forty or so men and women were clumped around a pair of wagons. The groups' progress was impeded by the snow, the stiff wind, and the caravan's size. The group appeared to be led by an elderly missionary dressed in heavy furs. He looked up in surprise as the adventurers appeared nearby. 

Gathering his robes to extracate them from the snow, Terenon approached the old man. "Salutations. We are travelers. What news have you of this area?"

The missionary smiled from the depths of his hood. "Greetings, my young friends. I am Oftir. I am afraid that I know little of import about the area. We are but travelers making our way to Latona. We are almost there, as you can see," he says, gesturing broadly at the city in the distance. Oftir gazed upon each of the adventurers, his eyes lingering briefly on Taigiel. The half-dragon shifted uncomfortably under the man's scrutiny, but the magical helm was doing its work, and all Oftir saw was the illusion of a muscular, blonde-haired man with a close-cropped beard. 

"I'm Terenon, Oftir," the mage replied. "Do you mind if we travel with you to the city? Latona seems like the place to be."

"Of course, my young friend! I would enjoy the company."

The adventurers fell into step alongside Oftir as he and his pilgrims resumed their trek. Terenon looked at the others in the caravan; most turned away to avoid his gaze. They looked tired. "It looks like you've travelled a long way. If you don't mind me asking, what leads you and your people to take such a pilgrimage?" 

"Well, to put it simply, to start new lives. Those who follow me are the poor and disaffected from the small assortment of villages just south of the great mountains. To us, Latona is a land of opportunity, despite its desolate location. Since the city sees little in the way of new residents, we figure there may be plenty of jobs waiting for us once we get there.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, I am curious why you fellows are heading there?" 

Rhys listened to the conversation, a frown darkening his features. Despite the old fellow's good nature and cheer, there was something off about him and his story, something he couldn't quite place. "Did you send word ahead to the mayor of the city that you would be coming?" the priest asked. 

Oftir chuckled. "No, they don't know that we're coming. We had not the means to send a message hundreds of miles north of our homes, across the very Spine of the World. We can only hope the mayor will find it in his heart to let us stay in town and work for him. He can't very well let us freeze or starve to death in the tundra, can he?" 

"And why not? You're bringing almost half a hundred people to his town, with little in the way of support; after all you were the dregs of society. If it's a choice between letting his people, people with whom he's lived, worked, laughed and loved, people who he's shared the birth and death of friends and relatives with, or you and your people, who do yopu think he'll chose? I would do all in my power to help fair, honest and sensible people survive. It's my nature, my belief, the way I was taught as well as the correct way to treat people in need. The mayor has no compulsion to do that. As a matter of fact his compulsion would be to do whatever was is his power to help his people survive.

"What have you with you to trade with or to purchase items with? The mayor will probably ask some very hard questions before he decides what to do. I hope that you'll be able to give him the answers he needs." 

Oftir frowned, his patience with Rhys clearly beginning to wear thin. "Look, we have everything under control. If the mayor turns us away, then we will resupply and head back. We have lost nothing but time in our journey north, and if we are accepted in Latona, then we will have gained so much more than that. Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. We are survivors if nothing else, and we will survive whether Tymora decides to smile upon us or not." 

Jelani had been listening to the conversation developed, and felt it was time to interrupt. "Excuse me, but I need a word with my friend for a moment." He laid a hand on Terenon's shoulder and led him aside. “We should help them," he said quietly once they were a fair distance away. "A couple thousand gold coins would be a fortune to them, and go a long way toward establishing a home for them. We, in turn, would gain quite a number of eyes and ears, and having a network of informants seems like a very good idea. After all, our enemies seem to be doing just that so it must be a valuable tactic.“

Terenon smiled at Jelani. "Great minds think alike. That is what I was planning. It can't hurt to have friendly eyes and ears here. Plus I like the old man. A few thousand to set these people up here, might balance the books with whatever gods watch us."

"Perhaps I should explain to our more…intense…friends that the work is so the villagers pride won’t be wounded? Most people prefer a job to a handout. They might even give some of their own, though I don’t expect approval from some, just on principle."

Meanwhile, Rhys fell back a few paces to stand beside Rumar. The paladin was pointedly ignoring most of the things happening around him, concentrating on the town in the distance. The priest frowned as he leaned close to Rumar. "Rumar, I've a gut feeling that Oftir is either hiding something or twisting what he's told us. Have you noticed that the people are paying us no attention, even when I mentioned that they may not get a warm welcome at Latona. Also, for such a dangerous trip and eben assuming that they're dirt poor, do you see any guards? No, there's more to Oftir than what he's said so far."

The paladin shrugged. "Could be. I detect no evil from anybody here though. It might be a case of over-active imagination, or simple paranoia."

"I just don't trust him," Rhys sighed.

"Mmph," Rumar offered, apparently disinterested again.

Having finished their conversation, Terenon moved back up to join Oftir. "Oftir, I was speaking wiht Jelani, and he and I think we may be able to assist each other. We have been looking for a venture to invest in, and you are looking for work. With all the laborers you have at hand, I was thinking of maybe a brewery or establishing a merchant caravan route. My father always said, 'Make your money work for you.' I'd like to invest in your people's tenacity and courage. Let us see this meeting as a blessing of Tymora." 

Rumar's face scrunched up with disgust at what he saw as another example of Terenon's uncontrolled greed and desire to manipulate situations to his advantage. He spared a glance at Jelani, who gestured to stay calm and quiet. The aasimar merely grunted. "My sister is a damned fool."

"It is possible that she is; it does seem to run in the family,” Jelani said in a dry tone.

Rumar tossed an angry glare at Jelani. "Best watch out - might end up cutting yourself on that razor sharp wit of yours one of these days." Pergium buzzed faintly in its sword sheath.

“That’s quite the comment coming from someone who plays with sharp things professionally," the theurge retorted.

Unaware of the jibes being traded behind him, Oftir smiled at Terenon's offer. "An investment, you say? You are truly kind and generous, friend. Perhaps once we get settled around Latona, we will see about starting up this business. It may be a few days before we finish negotiations with the authority figures of the city, so you may want to finish your business first before we start making business plans. Come to think of it, what is your business in Latona? I don't think you've mentioned why you're going there." 

Terenon smiled back. "Well, we are adventurers and entrepreneurs. There have been rumors about dangerous creatures organizing up in the wastes. What money we earn, we invest. You can't live the life of an adventurer forever. We need something to retire on. This place looks as good as any," said the mage with a wink.

"Dangerous creatures? What sort? I hope it's nothing too dangerous; I'd hate to see our new home destroyed before we get a chance to settle in. Is it the usual evil humanoids and giants, or something greater?"

"I said there were rumors, but still worth looking into. I'm not sure what we'll find, but I doubt the town is in any real danger. That's the reason I asked you of the news you've heard around these parts. Please don't concern yourself; until we investigate, nothing is certain, and I don't want to unduly alarm people." 

"The greatest concern would be a dragon, though other things seem to patrol these lands," Rumar said loudly, moving to block Terenon, "And yes, they are dangerous. If they wanted the town destroyed though, I imagine they would have done so long before now. Now, if we are quite done with interrogations and blatant avarice, could we move along?"

Terenon rolled his eyes, but Oftir turned to Rumar. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. "A dragon? You don't actually mean to go after such a creature? Good luck with that, friends; I want nothing to do with such reckless notions. I guess that's why you are the adventurers; I could never have the stomach for that sort of thing."

After a few more minutes, the party reached Latona. High stone walls surrounded the city. Guards could be seen on all of the city's six stone towers, and outside the walls, mounted scouts patrolled the surrounding land. The city gates were open, but a squad of mounted guards approached the caravan to inspect it and question Oftir. The elderly man turned to Terenon and shrugged.

"It may be some time before they let us through. You should go ahead and take care of your business; I'm sure I'll be find. Come back and find me when you finish this hunting trip of yours and we'll discuss business." 

Terenon gave a slight bow to Oftir, then led the others into the city.

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

Oftir could barely contain his glee as the adventurers left. They were hunting a dragon, and the only dragon around here worth a damn was the white wyrm Acessiwal. Acessiwal, whom he had been courting favor with for months! Acessiwal, whom he had convinced the forty men and women in his caravan to willingly sacrifice themselves to! This would be the final proof of his loyalty, a report of the movements of a group of the dragon's enemies.

As the guards searched through the wagons of the caravan, Oftir slid his hand inside his robe, where his holy symbol lay. The symbol was a white skull upon a black starburst--the symbol of Cyric. Quietly, he whispered the words of a _sending_ spell and felt it make contact with Acessiwal's mind.


----------



## Grundar

*good to be back*

Terenon's back and he's kicking butt.. at least for the first round.. That last paragraph about Oftir was something that i didn't know before.. Nice touch.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

One of the nice things about writing up a story hour, after a story arch is completed, is including behind the scenes happenings, that the PC's didn't know about at the time.  I've heard a few "You B@st@ard." comments doing this in my story hour.  I like seeing it.

GW


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## ltclnlbrain

Grundar said:
			
		

> Terenon's back and he's kicking butt.. at least for the first round.. That last paragraph about Oftir was something that i didn't know before.. Nice touch.




How did you think the ice golems knew where to find you so quickly?

The adventurers actually encountered Oftir later on in the adventure, and I had planned for him to taunt them and reveal what he had done, but Jelani decided to use _touch of idiocy_ on him before he could do so. So...yeah.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 35* 

Latona was quite rural, backwater some might say, with little in the way of development. Its architectural style was one of function more than floweriness, and it was very blocky and efficient when compared to the graceful majesty of Silverymoon. The citizens, mostly human and halfling, moved about with a slow, almost lazy gait, as if they had all the time in the world.

Taigiel cast an apprehensive glance around, shifting uncomfortably. "I hope this disguise will be enough," he said. "This will be the first time I'll be able to walk openly through the streets of a city without leaving a trail of fear and scorn in my wake." 

"Do not worry, Taigiel," Rumar said, waving a hand dismissively. "I find it unlikely that you will attract much attention. After all, what reason would the guards have to consider yet another random traveler? So long as you simply are careful and consider your actions first I am certain we will pull through just fine." 

"Let us see if we can find somebody who might have news of the region," said Terenon.

"I'm going to see what shrines or temples are here," said Rhys. "Perhaps I'll be able to find out something there or just tend to any people who need some care."

"I think I'll go with you," said Jelani.  Rhys and Allanon similarly voiced their assent.

"Alright," said Grundar. "Terenon and I will take Taigiel and see what we can find. We'll meet back here in two hours."

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

The temple district of Latona was rather small and quaint, barely befitting the name of "district." A few blocks away from city hall stood the city's only two temples: the larger dedicated to Lathander, the Morninglord, and the other to Tyr, God of Justice. Each was of a decent size, though not many people lingered about them.

Rhys lead his companions into the temple of Tyr. The interior of the temple wais rather modest, and a few acolytes moved about the main chamber on various errands. Their inquiries were directed to a priestess by the name of Willema Undarn, a plain, stocky woman with graying hair and a stern expression. "How may I be of assistance?" she asked simply. 

"Mistress Undarn," Rhys said warmly. "I'm Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm, may his blessings help all in need. These with me are my good friends and valued compnions Allanon, Jelani, and Rumar. We've only arrived here but an short while ago. I'd like to ask you questions about Latona and the area around it, if you'd be so inclined."

Willema smiled politely and nodded at the adventurers. "I'll do my best to answer whatever I can."

"Well, truth be told, our primary concern is the white dragon Acessiwal. Do you know much about him?"

Willema frowned a bit. "I'm afraid not. I've heard the name mentioned a few times here and there. Supposed to be really big and mean, but we've not seen the likes of him around these parts. Perhaps a sage like Lasom the Large might know more."

"We will seek him out shortly then." Rhys paused a bit, frowning. A nagging sensation of doubt still tickled the back of his mind, doubt over Oftir. He felt compelled to follow up on his suspicions. "We met a group of travelers on the way here. Their spokesman, a man calling himself Oftir, said that they hailed from the other side of the Spine of the World. He said that they were coming here to start a new life. What stories could they have heard that would promt them to undertake such a hazardous journey?"

Willema looked a bit puzzled by the question. Rumar coughed with a little embarrassment at Rhys' question. Raising one finger in polite request for a moment from Willema, he moved over to Rhys and pulled him a few steps away.

"Perhaps you should stop being so blunt in your investigations of Oftir," he said quietly to the priest, a tipped smile resting on his face. "To be honest, we've yet to see any proof that he is remotely dangerous or evil. Don't you think it's slightly possible he's merely a wanderer? I mean, this town had to have been formed by precisely the same sort of people - those interested in merely putting as much distance between them and their old life."

"After all, the reverse would imply that he's some sort of terribly clever arch-villain with the ability to completely mask his true identity and the resources to set up such an elaborate and more than a little needlessly complicated plot. Not that I'm saying it's impossible," Rumar added reluctantly, "merely that it seems rather unlikely so far." 

Rhys looked at Rumar for a long moment, then finally let out a sigh. "You're correct," he said at last before turning back to Willema. "Mistress, I apologize for my unjustified implications, and I thank you for your time. We will see what we can learn at the Temple of the Morninglord.

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

Oftir nervously wiped at his greasy hair as he waited in the shadows of a building near the outskirts of the town. He had dropped the facade of the old missionary conjured by his magical hat, revealing a tall man with sunken eyes and craven features. He giggled to himself with excitement. Not only had me made contact with the great Acessiwal, the dragon had actually _responded_ to him! It was almost too good to be true. The wyrm had told him to wait here to meet one of his agents, who would exchange the location of the adventurers for directions on how to get to Coldheart and join his new master in his demesne. So the Cyricist waited now for said agent to arrive.

A whisper of movement beside him startled him, and he nearly screamed in surprise as a beautiful half-elven woman seemed to materialize out of the shadows. The woman wore close-fitting black clothing and smiled slightly, her lips twitching in what Oftir took to be amusement. "You are Oftir?" she asked. 

The priest struggled to regain his dignity. "Yes, yes, I am." He regarded her coolly, though his eyes were drawn to her physical assets. "You serve Acessiwal, then?"

"I serve many masters, as long as they can afford me," the woman replied. "But my only true loyalty is to myself." The half-elf's eyes bored into Oftir's, and the priest felt as if she were looking past them, probing his mind for answers to silent questions.

Oftir shook his head to clear his mind of the sensation, though it didn't make him feel better. This woman's presence was distinctly...odd, uncomfortable. "The adventurers split up upon entering Latona. Four of them went to the temple district, while the other three went to find information. The most knowledgeable person in town is a gnome named Lasom the Large, so they probably headed there."

The woman nodded. "Lasom's home is far from the center of town. Those there will be my first target. A contingent of ice golems is already on its way south, and they will keep those in the temple district busy until I can join them and finish the job." The woman's lips twitched again, her eyes alighting on Oftir's holy symbol. "You should rejoice. Many souls will be sent into Cyric's embrace this day."

Oftir snorted at the thought of one woman taking out seven powerful adventurers, but something in her steely gaze made him pause. A palpable aura of confidence and skill. Perhaps she _was_ capable of the deed? "Who are you?" he whispered.

"I am death," the woman replied, and her form began to turn blurry and insubstantial. "I am nightmare," she continued as her features flowed like water, muscles stretching and growing. Her skin turn a sickly mauve color, and four tentacles sprouted from the face. Oftir yelped in surprise but could not move, paralyzed by the horror of the grotesque transformation. He cowered before the woman's true form, a creature he had only heard about in bard's tales: an illithid. The aberration's tentacles writhed as a telepathic voice sent four words into his mind that chilled him to the core.

_I am Yarrick Zan._


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 36* 

Across town, Grundar, Terenon, and Taigiel had found their way to the residence of one Lasom the Large, a gnome scholar and sage. He kept a rather extensive private historical reference library, and he kept tabs on the area more than most people, so he would undoubtedly be the best source of information in Latona. 

Terenon's knock on the scholar's door was answer by a gnome with shoulder-length blonde hair, a goatee, and crystal blue eyes. He was clad in winter wolf furs and looked up at the three visitors with interest.

"Out-of-towners, eh? We don't get too many of your kind around these parts. My name's Lasom: how may I be of assistance?" 

"Grettings Lasom," Terenon replied, bowing slightly. "I am Terenon. We have been told you are the man to see regarding information, news and history of the region."

Lasom smiled. "Indeed, I know many things about the lands around Latona. Come in, won't you? I won't have my guests freeze to death when a warm fire is but a few feet away!"

The gnome ushered the three into his home. Each wall was lined with a bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling, chock full of tomes and grimoires of all shapes and sizes. Lasom lead them into a sitting room where a crackling fire roared in a fireplace and offered them some wine, then settled into a plush, oversized chair.

"Information, news, and history. Is there anything specific you are interested in? I could talk for hours on the Spine of the World, the plains around Latona, the Mect Cliffs far to the north. I could talk about the founding of the city, the battles we have fought to keep it running, the struggle to survive in the frozen wastelands. Or I could tell you about the great wyrm Acessiwal the White." 

Grundar's ears perked up at the mention of the wyrm and he leaned forward with interest. "What do you know of Acessiwal?"

"Ah, Acessiwal," said Lasom. "I have heard and read many stories about confrontations with him over the centuries. The great dragon slew all but a few of his would-be hunters in the past hundred years. Many of them I met before they set off on their fool's quest to the north. A few of the older legends tell of heroes who managed to drive off the dragon, however. Indeed, an ancient song makes sport of 'Acessiwal the Yellow,' a cowardly beast of the north. Of course, each time the wyrm was driven off, he always found a new place to make his lair." 

"He will not flee this time," Taigiel whispered icily, his eyes twin pools of flame. "He will die at the ends of my blades, and I will know peace."

"Acessiwal is cowardly?" Terenon asked, a little loudly to draw attention from Taigiel's statement. "That's not the impression we've had of late. Is he of arcane accomplishment? We've heard that he has ice golems to do his bdiding. He has almost decimated the frost giants in this region and they are little more than shadows of thier former strength. Hardly fits with the name of 'Acessiwal the Yellow.'" 

Lasom shrugged. "I am merely a collector of tales; I cannot attest to their veracity. The one song that makes fun of Acessiwal is quite ancient, and things may have changed over the intervening centuries. There is not much information available on Acessiwal specifically, but from what I know about dragons, the older ones are quite proficient with the arcane arts. I've never seen an ice golem before, but I'm sure its possible that he commands such things." 

Grundar was only listening half-heartedly. One hand slid into a pocket where he fiddled with a gold coin. He wished he had gone with the others to the temples instead sitting around in this dusty library.

Terenon mulled over Lasom 's answers with a bit of disappointment. Perhaps another line of questioning was in order. The mage began again. "Lasom, I would guess you know what intteligent creatures dwell in the area. If someone we're interested in gathering an army, what indigenous species would he choose from. Could be humanoids, barbarians, or something I haven't even thought of." 

"An army?" asked Lasom, eyeing Terenon dubiously. "The most prevalent creatures in the area are the frost giants, though their tribes are scattered far and wide across the tundra and have not seen real organization for years. We also see the occasional group of orcs, ogres, or trolls, but usually nothing too serious. Besides the mastodon herds and the winter wolf packs, there isn't really much else out there."

"What do you know of the Mect cliffs to the north?" asked Grundar. "What kind of creatures inhabit that area? Have there been any recent news coming from that area?" he asked, hoping that Lasom might provide something interesting. 

"The Mect Cliffs are a dangerous place; no sane person ventures near them and lives long," says Lasom. "They are inhabited by the normal beasts of the tundra. Frost worms, remorhaz, mastodons. Every so often, a younger white dragon is spotted flying about, and recently scouts have been reporting sightings of swarms of small, white, bat-winged creatures flying about. You would do well to stay away from them if you wish to remain safe. Latona is the furthest bastion of civilization in the north, so you will be on your own after you venture outside its walls."

_Well this fountain of knowlege is dry,_ thought Terenon. _What could the dragon possibly use as an army if the most prevalent possibility has been crushed by said army. Damn. I should have questioned the giants about what they had fought._

"Thank you for your time, Lasom. I need some time to think." The mage stood, and Grundar followed behind him.

"I will join you shortly," said Taigiel. "There is more I would know about my fa--about Acessiwal."

"We'll yell if we need you," said Terenon, winking.

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

Grundar sighed heavily, the winter wind whipping at his clothes. A few yards away, Terenon stood with his back to the elf, lost in his thoughts. Grundar was not a mind-reader, but he could guess what his friend was thinking, pretty much the same thing he was. Lasom's information didn't really tell them anything they didn't know already. Forewarned was forearmed, and right now he felt as if they were about to plunge into the unknown weaponless.

A new chill fell over him, though, that had nothing to do with the cold. Somebody was behind him. No, some_thing_.

A thought that was entirely not his own entered his mind then. _This is strictly business. Nothing personal._

Before the elf could do anything, a thick, slimy appendage wrapped around his neck. There was a sickening snap, and then the elf thought no more.


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## kanithardm

I read it all in an hour and a half.  Amazing, simply amazing.


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## ltclnlbrain

I find it kind of amusing that your signature was longer than your actual post. 

Thanks for your kind words. <modest>I do what I can.</modest> We've still got a long way to go, so keep reading; I'll try to keep the updates coming on a semi-regular basis.


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## kanithardm

What's wrong with a big signature?


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## ltclnlbrain

I didn't say anything was wrong, I just found it amusing. No offense meant.


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## kanithardm

ltclnlbrain said:
			
		

> I didn't say anything was wrong, I just found it amusing. No offense meant.




None taken.


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## kanithardm

*Bump*

I honor of Elan I shall bump in song.

eh hem..

_Bump, Bump, bump the thread back to the first page._


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## ltclnlbrain

Sweet, thanks for the sing-a-long bump. In other news, I've started another story hour based on my Age of Worms game at PBW. You can check it out here. And now an update...I think I'm doing pretty well with this once-a-week deal.

*Chapter 37*

Terenon looked over in shock as Grundar’s neck suddenly snapped with a sickening sound. The elf’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, but he did not fall, supported by some unseen force.  He knew his friend was dead, and there was nothing he could do to save him. The mage's instinct for survival overwhelmed him. He was not about to suffer the same fate if he could help it. Quickly casting a spell, he conjured a wall of force. The hemisphere of force surrounded him, leaving no room for a being larger than himself room to teleport in.

As he watched, there was a gory sucking noise and suddenly the back of Grundar's skull dissolved. His brain began to flow out of the skull, disappearing at a point somewhere behind the elf. Once it was all gone, the body dropped to the ground.

Shocked and horrified, Terenon begans casting another spell to reveal his attacker. As he did, he felt a heavy tentacle slap him upside the temple with bone-crushing force. It tried to grab a hold of the mage, but luckily he squirmed out of its grasp and, maintaining concentration, completed the spell. Before him, nestled inside the sphere of force next to him, was a mind flayer.

“Yarrick Zan!” the mage cried.

Zan spared no time for words, lashing out with his tentacles and pummelling Terenon’s head. The wizard reeled, seeing stars, and the illithid wrapped two of its writhing tentacles around his head and held Terenon against its body with its arms.

Terenon was terrified. He hadn't expected to see Zan, and was almost sure that he would die. From what he had learned the, illithid specialized in killing mages, and obviously was able to bypass things like the wall of force. He stil had a few tricks up his sleeve. He would be dead soon, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Without a word or gesture, three rays of scorching heat lanced from his body to strike the mind flayer. A mental flash of pain washed over the mage, but the assassin held firm to its grip, snaking its other two tentacles around Terenon’s head.

The commotion had not gone unnoticed. The door to Lasom’s house swung open as the gnome and Taigiel raced out. “Garl’s garnets!” Lasom cried, gaping at Grundar’s body and the pained and contorted countenance of Terenon. “Terenon!” bellowed Taigiel. The dragon took up his mighty bow and sent an arrow at the mage’s invisible assailant. However, the projectile shattered harmlessly against the wall of force. Terenon’s defensive tactic had sealed his own doom.

_Do not take this personally._ the illithid telepathically told Terenon. _This is strictly business. The struggle will be over soon._.

“The hell it will!” the mage managed as he flailed about, panic growing as the remaining seconds of his life ticked away. He mentally triggered another spell he had prepared to be cast without words or gestures. A wave of confusion washed over Yarrick Zan’s mind, but it broke upon the shore of its will, dissipating harmlessly.  The illithid communicated the mental equivalent of a smirk, and Terenon barely had time to wail in dismay before there was a horrific cracking sensation at the base of his skull, and then only blackness.

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

“Terenon!”

Taigiel watched in horror as the back of the wizard’s skull suddenly caved in, and his brain began flowing out in chunks. He ran up to the wall of force, pounding futilely on it, but there was nothing he could do to get through. All he could do was watch as the mage’s body collapsed into the slowly reddening snow.

The half-dragon snarled as he whirled on Lasom, the gnome still too stunned to move. “Alert the guards! There is an assassin loose in the city!” The small sage hesitated only a moment before scurrying off into the city, crying out for the guards.

Assassination was a dishonorable, underhanded tactic, and the son of Acessiwal had no doubts in his mind as to who was behind it. If not his father, then the vile mage he kept for a pet. The others were in danger. He had to warn them.

A flicker of magic in the air signalled the expiration of the wall of force. Taigiel quickly gathered up Grundar’s and Terenon’s bodies and set off at a run.

He found the rest of the party halfway to the temple district. Four pairs of eyes widened in horror as Taigiel approached with his grisly cargo.

“What happened?” Rumar demanded.

“Assassin,” Taigiel grunted. “And he’s still on the loose.”

Any further reply was cut off by the crunching of snow from the end of the street. Two towering ice golems rounded the corner, the sunlight glinting off their polished skull-like heads. As the party turned to face them, another noise sounded from behind them, and a quick glance confirmed that two more ice golems approached from that direction, effectively trapping them.

“This is bad,” said Allanon unnecessarily.


----------



## Terenon

*Reading*

Been a while since I've read the whole thread. I'd forgotten how good the story was. Although reading about my character's death is a bit unsettling.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Excellent post Itclnlbrain ... apart from its length.   

Good to see an assassion being sensible and striking when the party is split ... not good for the party of course!


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 38*

"To one end, Taigiel!" Rumar barked, whipping Pergium out and thrusting it skyward. "I will stand guard at the other!" A burst of light and faint music issued from the sword as he said this, its presence helping to soothe scattered minds and uncertain arms. Metal-encased feet dug into the ground as Rumar bunched his body up behind his shield, positioning himself in between two of the incoming golems and the rest of the group.

Taigiel dropped the bodies of Grundar and Terenon unceremoniously to the ground as he unlimbered his bow. He snarled once as he interposed himself between the other pair of constructs. In between the half-dragon and the aasimar, the others prepared for combat. Allanon cloaked himself in a mass of mirror images, and Rhys began the words and gestures of a summoning spell. Jelani drew his spear and concentrated, the tip of the weapon glowing briefly as the metal transformed into solid adamantine.

Then the golems were upon them charging forward and lashing out with powerful fists. Rumar stood firm before their assault, catching one fist on his shield while sidestepping the second. Taigiel also managed to dodge one golem’s slam, but the second connected solidly with his chest and drove the half-dragon back a step. Bruised, Taigiel backed up some more and quickly nocked a series of adamantine arrows to his bow before driving them into the body of the nearest golem.

Rhys completed his summoning, and a trumpeting noise signalled the arrival of a golden celestial elephant behind the golems menacing Taigiel. The magical beast laid into the constructs with its massive tusks, shearing off chunks of magically enchanted ice. The aasimar priest nodded, then cast another spell. “May Torm grant us the heart and strength to survive this battle,” he intoned, and a brief golden glow surrounded the party, suffusing them with vigor.

Jelani meanwhile attended further to his spear, chanting softly. A bright green glow covered the weapon, running down the haft and settling on the adamantine point. The spear was now temporarily bane against constructs, and would deal extra damage with each hit.

"I'm really—starting to—hate these blasted things!" Rumar snarled. A small chunk of ice flew through the air, all but literally beaten off one of the golems by the paladin's wild swings. Pergium buzzes furiously, the sword irritated by it's inability to truly hurt its target.

“This will protect you for a time,” said Allanon as he withdrew a slender wand from his belt. He spoke its activation word and touched it to Rumar, and the aasimar’s skin became as tough as stone. And just in time too, for the golems slammed their fists into the paladin, hurting him even through the protection the stoneskin offered. At the other end of the alley, the golems turned to face the massive elephant that had appeared behind them. Fists flashed reflected light as they pummeled the summoned creature, battering it quite badly. However, Taigiel seized upon the distraction the elephant caused, sending several more adamantine arrows to crack through the ice golem’s body.

The elephant retaliated against the golems, goring another chunk out of the damaged golem. Rhys cast another spell, conjuring a glowing golden hand that swooped down to grasp at an undamaged golem. Unfortunately, the golem’s spell immunity held, and the hand passed through it as if it wasn’t even there.

Jelani moved up to support Rumar, stabbing out with his enchanted spear. The weapon did not penetrate the enchanted ice armor that the golem was encased in, merely poking at the thick surface.

Grunting a quiet thanks to Allanon, Rumar considered the golems for a few moments before grudgingly assuming a defensive position. Much as he hated to admit it, he really probably should have bought one of those scarabs that everyone else went out and obtained. _Just seemed like such a dirty tactic at the time...[/i[ he thought as he prepares himself to get pummeled about some more. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Allanon hustle across the street to use his wand of stoneskin on Taigiel.

The golems facing Jelani and Rumar split up, each choosing one of them as a target. Both mystice theurge and paladin took a heavy blow from the golems’ fists. On the other side, one golem bashed the celestial elephant until it had taken too many hits for it to bear and vanished in a puff of smoke, sent back to the plane from which it was conjured. The fourth golem moved up to engage Taigiel once more, delivering a solid hit to the half-dragon’s shoulder. He felt his arm grow numb from the blow, but there was nowhere else for him to back up to, and he dare not eschew his bow for his blades would do little against the golem. At poink-blank range, he dropped his defenses, taking another blow to the side. Ignoring the pain, Taigiel drove three more adamantine arrows home, and he was rewarded as the golem toppled over, bereft of movement.

Rhys frowned as the elephant disappeared, but he wasted little time, beginning another summoning. This time, he sent his prayers out ot the Elemental Plane of Fire, and a crackling portal of flames began to open as he worked his magic.

Jelani fared better against the golem he faced, his glowing adamantine spear driving two large holes in the construct’s body. Though clearly damaged, the golem showed no sign of letting up.

Allanon returned his wand to his belt as he retreated a bit, resorting to his innate magical talents. A few quick words and gestures, and the party members began to move faster, enchanted with a haste spell.

The golems showed no imagination in their tactics, continuing to swing away with their fists. For all they lacked in variety, their attacks continued to prove effective, battering Jelani, Rumar, and Taigiel.

Bleeding and badly beaten, Taigiel ducked an opportunistic swing as he turned around to aid Jelani, sending a barrage of adamantine arrows into the theurge’s opponent. “Rhys! Healing!” he growled.

The roar of fire heralded the arrival of Rhys’ conjured elemental, which wasted no time in laying into the golems with flaming fists. The priest heard Taigiel’s call for healing, and he was happy to oblige. “By Torm’s will,” he said, channeling positive energy and restoring the half-dragon’s battered form.

Jelani drove his spear twice more into the golem before him, the enchanted weapon easily tearing through the construct’s body. It slumped forward, the binding that held the animating spirit severed by his spear. He allowed himself a grim smile; all told, they were doing well so far, and it felt good to be tearing apart these abominations. They would prevail yet.

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

Unseen by the adventurers, a dark-clothed figure watched from the shadows of a rooftop above the battle. Yarrick Zan, once more disguised in the body of a female half-elf, watched and waited. Its thoughts were cold and calculating, its belly sated with fresh brains. Unconsciously, it licked its lips. The brains of adventurers were always particularly sweet, full of a myriad of experiences. And once this fight was over, it would have even more to feast on. 

Zan saw the priest heal the half-dragon, and knew it was time to act. If Rhys was allowed to restore the others too, there was no way the assassin would be able to take the rest down. That would be a mistake, and Yarrick Zan would not have earned its reputation as one of the greatest assassins in the world by making mistakes.

Calmly, the transmuted illithid loaded its hand crossbow. Calmly, the assassin took aim at Rhys Thurn’s exposed neck.

Calmly, Yarrick Zan pulled the trigger._


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 39*

The poisoned crossbow bolt tore through the air toward Rhys like a shark bearing down on a wounded seal. The cleric seemed unaware of his impending doom, getting ready to cast another spell. Before the first words left his lips, the bolt hit. With a clang of metal, it skipped off his breastplate and clattered harmlessly to the snow.

Yarrick Zan blinked.

It had missed.

_Torm must truly like that one,_ the assassin thought acerbically. Already its presence had been revealed, and Rhys was directing his magical hand of force towards Zan. The mind flayer dodged away, but not fast enough as the enormous hand closed around it in a powerful grapple. Staying now would be a mistake, and Yarrick Zan would not have earned its reputation as one of the greatest assassins in the world by making mistakes.

Concentrating on its innate powers, the assassin _plane shifted_ away.

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

The unexpected attack by the strange half-elf woman had taken Rhys by surprise, but fortunately he had been able to drive her off without incident. Then, it was only a matter of time before last remaining ice golems succumbed to the party's spells and swords.

The priest turned to regard Taigiel, who was nursing a bruised shoulder. Though he had reserved some initial doubts about the half-dragon, it seemed now he had finally proved where his heart lay. "Taigiel, I wish to thank you for your aid. You are an extremely skilled warrior and I'm glad you're with us."  

Taigiel grunted in acknowledgment. "I am sorry I was unable to aid your companions. They were ambushed by an assassin. He slew them and fled before I could get to him. I am sorry." The half-dragon looks down at the bodies of Grundar and Terenon. "The appearance of those golems means that Acessiwal knows we are coming. He must have spies about town that tipped him off. It won't be safe for us to stay here much longer."  

Rhys nodded. "Jelani, do you have a teleport spell prepared? We need to get out of here."

“I do have a teleport," replied Jelani, "so let’s load them into the portable hole and get ready to go. I don’t know how much we have in the way of disposable funds after the last time, but maybe they’ll give us a deal. We do seem to be frequent customers there!”

Nobody seemed to appreciate his attempt at levity.

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

_Grundar..._

A voice was calling his name. It sounded vaguely familiar.

_Grundar, come back..._

This wasn't the same voice as the first one though. What had that voice said? Something about business. It didn't matter. The light ahead was bright, and he could smell the fresh scent of pine trees, the laughter and song of the elves.

_Grundar, come back..._

Wait. A nagging doubt lingered in his mind. The first voice. Something about it. An image of tentacles? He turned away from the light, and in an instant memory came flooding back in a rush, a raging torrent akin to a river bursting through a dam. He wanted to scream. He did scream.

"Yarrick!"

Grundar sat bolt upright on the stone slab. He was panting heavily, confused as to his surroundings. Then he saw the face of the high priest of Torm at the temple in Silverymoon, and he understood. He had died.

"Welcome back, my friend," the priest said gently.

The elf reached one hand to the back of his head, feeling for holes. Finding none, he snarled as he slid off the slab and proceeded to get dressed. "Where's my rapier? I'm gonna skewer that pile of mucous!" He continued to spit choice curses, much to the chagrin of the priest.

A slight relief filled him as he saw the others waiting in the foyer: Allanon, Jelani, Rhys, Rumar, the still-disguised Taigiel, and a subdued Terenon. "Did you get that bastard Yarrick Zan? It was him, right?" He noticed Terenon's sullen expression. "You got nailed too? What happened?"

Jelani nodded to Grundar as he came bursting into the room. “Zan was involved? That does explain a bit what happened, but I couldn't say for sure. The assassin is still out there somewhere; we were attacked by some more golems. As it turns out it was a fortunate turn of events, as many gemstones were incorporated into their bodies. That, combined with Rumar’s generosity, allowed us to return the pair of you to the living with relative ease. I believe that perhaps we should find a nice safe spot to talk about how we should proceed from here. It is obvious that we cannot proceed like we have been. Our adversary seems to be predicting our movements.”  

As if on cue, Rhys stiffened and looked to a point above Taigiel's head. "We're being watched!" he hissed.

Grundar's hand move to his rapier hilt as he looked around him, ready for another attack. He waited for several minutes, tensed in anticipation for a fight, but nothing came. No creatures appeared from the ether to attack, no golems pounded down the temple doors and entered. Eventually, he relaxed. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Scrying sensor," said Terenon bitterly. "It's gone now."

"I think we should head to somewhere a bit safer," mused Jelani. "After all, we’ve things to discuss; and I could use a bit of rest after that battle.” 

Taigiel fidgeted with his hat of disguise. "I hate masquerading around as something I'm not. Let's go to this private place so I can take this damn thing off. I've never been in this region before. You know better than I where we should go."  

"The mage's guild," said Terenon. "Join hands."


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Good update, bad assassin.  I swear I've read somewhere about him, am I imagining it?

GW


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Good update, bad assassin.  I swear I've read somewhere about him, am I imagining it?
> 
> GW





No, you're not imagining things. At least not this particular thing. Yarrick Zan first appeared in "Enemies and Allies," the 3.0 splatbook of NPCs. He's the only NPC in that book that ever managed to find a way into one of my games. I still want to use "The Claw" some time because they're just so ridiculous. 

EDIT: 666 posts Greywolf! Yikes!


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

*Soooooooooooooooon.................*

Soon now. Very soon my precious. Won't be long now till we see two new players make their appearance into the game. Both of which are a "good"  addition.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 40*

"Yarrick Zan's existence is intolerable to our future endeavors," said Terenon. "The dragon is no longer my main concern." 

Terenon and the others were gathered in the mage's quarters at the guild in Silverymoon, in a room that was proof against scrying. The others fidgeted about, still shaken by their recent experiences. Grundar especially seemed paranoid.

"What about that guy scrying on us? Any way to return the favor?" the elf asked.

"Who would I scry on?" the mage responded irritably. "I need a subject to attempt for, and I have no idea the mage that is behind it. I'm sure he is the one that hired Zan."

"Perhaps it was the dragon itself," mused Rhys. "He'd be able to know if the golems went looking for Taigiel and would be interesred in his location. Or it might have been the githyanki mage who left with that rod, back in the Selskar Vale. She'd have a chance to know about Yarrick as the beholder knew about him. We know what the rod can do and that might not be information she'd want out."

"Right now I am more concerned about finances," Terenon continued. "In order to go after Zan I will need to buy some spells, possibly create some magic items. I could create and sell some magic items to gain the money I need, but that will take time." 

"You seem fairly bent on tracking him down all by yourself," said Jelani. "You’re an intelligent, powerful man Terenon. Why not just do what everyone else does and hire yourself a professional? If you want him to die by your hands, then have him held until you get a chance to wring every last bit of life from his body…as slowly, or quickly as you like. But there’s no need to be stupid about this. After all, hiring a professional worked on you.”

Terenon broke into a smile. He laughed heartily at Jelani's suggestion. "What symmetry. What irony. Such a simple solution, and yet my anger masked it from me. Maybe I should hire Zan to assassinate himself..." He laughed again. "Yes a hireling, a very special hireling. A githyanki illithiad slayer, perhaps. He could capture Zan and hold him for... something special."

Rumar watched and listened silently as Terenon openly declared his plans of slaying Zan--amongst other things. Sadly, the paladin shook his head and closed his eyes, speaking without looking at the mage. "A dragon endangers countless lives, yet you are so blinded by your thirst for revenge that you would let the beast continue it's plans solely so you may inflict no doubt monstrous amounts of pain upon one who has wronged you. You wish to kill Zan not because he is a danger, but simply because he has harmed you. I ask you again, Terenon," Rumar said quietly, opening his eyes to stare at the other, "What would my sister think?" 

Terenon arched an eyebrow at Rumar. He rose from the plush chair and walked over to the paladin. He couldn't remember the last time he saw the paladin sit. He was an odd one. Standing in front of his love's brother, Terenon folded his arms and cocked his head quizzically at him. "Serilla understands that she is my heart. She understands you do not approve of me. She understands that you will ascribe sinister motives to whatever plan or action I might take.

"The dragon is a great threat to the realm, this is true. It is my duty by the power I wield to ensure balance and stop him. I could just as easily leave the world of man to its own devices, but I choose to champion it. Zan is a danger that cannot be ignored. His mere existance threatens all of our plans. The prudent choice is to eliminate Yarrick before he decimates us once and for all. I know you will never agree with me on any issue, but I care little. I do what must be done." 

"I do not care if you kill Zan," Rumar replied steadily. "I do not care if you wait to slay the dragon. Why would I? I won't try to dismiss the risk the illithid poses. All I care about, mage, is whether or not you decide to capture and torture him first." 

Terenon laughed and smiled at Rumar. "Who said anything about torture? I am far more imaginative than you give me credit for. He will be punished, but let me assure you the punishment will be just." 

"That is precisely what I am worried about, mage. Call it punishment if you will, justify it how you like - torture is your intent all the same, be it with searing brand or magical prison. Know that I will actively work to impede or undo what you plan if I disagree with it. Somehow," Rumar snorted, "I find it hard to believe I won't disagree with it." 

Terenon gave the paladin a dismissive wave. "You act as if I care. Yes, I'm the dangerous one you need to keep a sharp eye out for...somehow I think you would care very little about what I do with Zan, had I not been dating your sister. Do what you must Rumar, and I will do the same."

"My friends," Rhys said. "Your words aren't fitting of either of you. This type of divisive talk is just what our enemies are hoping for."

"There is no such thing as acceptable torture," Rumar replied flatly, glaring at Rhys, angry that he's intervened. "If the mage does more than simply kill Zan, as he has implied, I will intervene. To do otherwise would go against my very moral code.

"And mage - I have long since given up on trying to stop you and my sister. I think you are dangerous and impulsive. I think that we will likely end up having to fight over our different views. I think that if your end goal wasn't so important, it'd be much better if I left right now. Nonetheless, I am staying, and if you wish to be with my sister, do so. That is your and her business, not mine.

"Furthermore, were what you say true, mage," Rumar continued, folding his arms across his chest, "if I did so desperately want you not to be with her that I would do anything to stop you, I would have simply let the rest sell whatever they could have scraped together to ressurrect your battered corpse. Instead, I dipped into the coins I had set aside for Pergium's spiritual growth. Because that is what my sister would have wanted."

“Enough!” Jelani shouted, his voice cracking the air like thunder. “You both act like fools. Terenon, you seek to eliminate Zan as if he were your enemy. Take a moment to think! The assassin cares nothing for you, he is simply a tool, wielded by another. Would you count a sword, an arrow, or a spell used by your foes as an enemy?

"And you Rumar; all know of your position on this issue. Tell me, how did you expect to find out that Terenon had tortured his prisoner; do you think he would send you an invitation?” The theurge snorted; his expression a cross between anger and contempt. “I tire of your constant bickering. There are more important things to think about here. And I do not care to give our enemies more time to plan another attack. Every minute we spend arguing is another that furthers their cause. So you two will either find a way to settle this thing now, or I shall deal with Zan myself. And I promise; neither of you will be happy with how I would go about it.” 

"Somehow, Jelani," Rumar replied dryly, clearly less than rebuked by the other man's words, "I find it hard to believe I would find your way of handling Zan worse than whatever that one hopes to inflict. As for your demand...as I see it, there is no need for things to be "resolved" just yet. I will only take action once the mage goes through with one of our many points of disagreement."

All this time, Taigiel had listened with slowly mounting frustration. But he had heard enough, and the half-dragon abruptly stood from his seat, baring his fangs. "We have suffered too many delays already. Tomorrow I head for Coldheart, even if I have to walk all the way back there from Silverymoon. Even if I have to go alone. My father must die." 

For all his continued aggression, Rumar did look suitably ashamed once Taigiel's snapped; after all, there was a very strong reason for why things hadn't come to blows thus far. "You are right. I should not have even bothered to voice my thoughts on the matter, especially now of all times. To think that the mage would have changed his plans merely because I told him to was foolish of me. To do so when it jepordized our mission at its core all the worse.

"I will go with Taigiel come the morning. The dragon is the greater threat; his son an important ally. Much as I would stop the mage from whatever he plans, I cannot let turn my back on what we came here to do. If you are still so intent on your plans, mage," the aasimar finished quietly, "Then it is clear I will not be about to stop you." 

Terenon sniffed disdainfully as he turned away. ""Don't you have to go and self-flagellate for some minor ethical infractions or something? Your company has become so tiresome." 

"I have set aside my personal concerns, mage, in respect of Taigiel and the threat his father holds," Rumar responded. There was no insult or mockery hidden beneath his words--though there was now a weariness. A great weariness. "Will you not do the same? If merely for the moment? When it comes down to it, I tire of this circular fighting," he muttered, touching three fingers to the front of his helmet, where his forehead must have been. "I must meditate and converse alone with Pergium on what has happened today; the golems, the mage, and the assassin all bear much consideration. Consideration that I doubt I can clearly undergo here. Regardless of what I decide, tomorrow I will go to seek out the dragon alongside our ally. I will not stop any of you who wish to seek out Zan, though I beg any of you who _are_ still focused on that task to reconsider. If merely for the moment." 

Taigiel nodded with a sense of finality. "Tomorrow we will teleport north of Latona and head straight for the Mect Cliffs. They are roughly fifty miles north of the city; it will take us two days to get there. We cannot keep retreating like we have been. It is evident that we are being watched, and it will likely be safer out in the open tundra. With no easy landmarks, they will have difficulty finding us even with scrying. Do what you must tonight. Come the morrow, there is no turning back."


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 41* 

As the others dispersed to various places for the night, Grundar quietly approached Terenon. "I'm in the same boat with you Terenon.. Obviously, Zan has to be dealt with.. For one, we don't know his employer. It could be the dragon, or it could be the gith, as a result of us messing up their plan in the Vale. As long as his employer lives, we will still be in danger. What do you have in mind to deal with Zan?"

Terenon relaxed back onto the plush chair in his guild quarters and began to spin his ideas at Grundar. "I know a poet named Helios. He is a scoundrel and a naive with many connections, but I trust him.” Seing the perplexed look on Grundar's face, Terenon continued in more detail. "He's my mother's lover. My parents are very metropolitan. I will ask Helios to aid me to hire Zan for a special job. Of course, Zan will not know it's me he is doing the job for. I will recruit Zan to retrieve a gem for me from a merchant. Which merchant, you are saying to yourself. It doesn't matter. The gem is important. The gem will be magicked to capture Zan body and soul.

"Once captured, I can safely take possession of his body and infiltrate the dragon’s lair. The will see only Zan because it is his true form. With a _mind blank_ spell up, no divination will show it is really me. At an opportune moment, I can slide the tide of battle in our favor. The best part is when Zans body dies, so does Zan. I will need to part with some magic items to put the plan into effect. It will cost a great deal of money."

Grundar stared at Terenon as he laid out his plan. Scratching the side of his head, he said, "That sounds like a risky plan. First off, how do we know if Zan was hired by the dragon? As I said, it could be the gith. We made some powerful enemies recently, and any one of them could want us dead.”

"It is a risky plan, I know,” the wizard replied, “but you know me. I like to turn any situation into an advantage if I can. We know that Zan was hired by the dragon or one of his minions by the fact that there were ice golems at the ambush as well. It is not a coincidence."

Grundar frowned. “Okay, but as for possessing the body of a mind flayer…that's way out of my league. Have you possessed another body before? I haven't, and I wouldn't know how to use it even if I did.”

"I have never possessed a body, but I am wizard of some power. Given enough setup I can do it in relative safety, and once he is trapped...I can do that."

The elf scratched his head again. “Can't we just do this the normal way? Hunt him down and take him out?"

"We could do this the normal way, but for me it is an opportunity that is hard to pass up,” Terenon’s eyes glittered. “I will have to do it alone. I don't want to risk you or any others in the group to the danger."

"I will support you in whatever way you need me to," Grundar patted Terenon on the back, smiling ruefully. "We've been through alot together, I wouldn't want to miss out on getting even with Zan. If your plan succeeds, it'll be the stories of bards all over the realm."

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

Rhys arranged a bath and a room for the evening at the temple of Torm. He asked for an ewer of water and some scented oils to ritually purrify himself first. When done, he put on an initiate’s robe and went into the room for prayer and meditation. The priest kneeled and thought of Torm, of his duty to his companions and to his god. His duty to the forces of Good. 

An image came to his mind. A harbor. Two giants are in the harbor fighting. Rhys is on the docks watching. It was from his past. It was Tantras harbor.

The gods Bane and Torm, cast down from the heavens during the Time of Troubles, were locked in mortal combat. Hundreds of Torm’s followers were poised on the docks, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice to lend their god the strength needed to defeat his foe. Among those followers, Rhys’ parents.

The priest ran up to them, tears streaming down his face. “You don’t have to do this!” he wailed. “Please, don’t leave me!”

Rhys’ father smiled sadly down at him. Though he didn’t speak, words flowed through Rhys’ mind. _Being a priest isn't a job of convienece. Sometimes tough choices present themselves. To solve them you must believe in yourself as much, if not more, than in Torm. Our deaths are nothing when compared to the good that's accomplished. The time may come when you may have to make a similar sacrifice. Remember that as long as you live in the hearts of others, you will never truly die._

An enormous wave washed over the docks, washing away all that stood upon it. And washing away the vision from Rhys’ mind. The aasimar gasped slightly, holding on to his dragon-headed staff for balance. He would need to meditate on this further.

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

Rumar headed off toward his room at the temple, though he did so in a circuitous manner. Frankly, the paladin had no desire right now to talk with anyone he knows...nonetheless "certain" people.

Once he'd settled down within his room, the door shut behind him, Rumar's affairs were his own. Those walking by did hear one-half of a conversation echoing through the closed door, albeit one that made little sense. Even when the talking occasionally escalated into outright shouting, it's still less than clear what's going on in there.

"The decision is mine to make! Not yours! You are to watch! To listen! No more!"

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

“This is what you wanted to show me?” growled Taigiel in surprise. Jelani had left the half-dragon down into the basement of the temple of Torm. The temperature in this particular corner was sweltering, necessary to support the valuable objects supported by the viscous fluid they floated in. Taigiel peered at the mottled eggs the adventurers had recovered from the old barracks house in the Selskar Vale weeks ago.

“Somebody has to watch over them,” Jelani said, smiling. “I thought that since you are part dragon, you might know something about eggs.”

“I was birthed the same as any other humanoid,” the half-dragon replied. “I did not hatch from an egg. It was quite painful for my mother.”

“I can imagine,” the mystic theurge said lightly. Taigiel whirled on him angrily, and Jelani raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry.”

Taigiel snorted and turned back to the eggs, leaning closer to inspect them. “These eggs are stranged. They look like red dragon eggs, but they are mottled, and small.”

“We think they’re the eggs of half-dragon githyanki,” Jelani explained.

“Abominations,” Taigiel spat, “like me. We should destroy them now and spare them a life of misery.”

“Is that what you wish?” Jelani asked softly. “Do you wish you were never born?”

Taigiel fixed him with a withering stare, but said nothing. The theurge continued. “Had you never been born, things might have been better. Your mother surely would have been spared much pain and heartbreak, and you yourself would not have suffered from the prejudice that plagues your life. But then you would also not be around to combat the evils of your father. Even now we move to end his reign of terror, and you will play an integral role in the battles to come.

“Every new being is a blank slate. Even the most villainous of monsters can become a great force of good in the world. That is what we hope to accomplish here. Raised properly, these dracogiths could be bastions of strength for those in need. Like you yourself have become, whether you realize it or not. So do not begrudge your existence, Taigiel. Be proud of what you will accomplish.”

Taigiel gazed at the mottled eggs, contemplating Jelani’s words. He stood vigil long into the night, ensuring no harm came to them.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 42* 

Terenon bustled about the city of Silverymoon, procuring items and making the preliminary preparations for his plans. Night had fallen by the time he was finished, and his pack was full as he made his way through the streets to the home of Serrila Destare.

He knocked on the door and was surprised when someone besides Serrila answers it. Instead of the aasimar sorceress, the girl who opened the door was Lisa LaBurton. She was clad in a thin nightrobe, and her chestnut hair endearingly framed her face. 

The girl's eyes widened when she saw Terenon and she began to blush a deep red. She scampered back a bit behind the door, covering herself with the wooden barrier and averting her eyes to hide her embarassment.

"Terenon? I--we didn't expect you tonight. What are you doing back? That is, um, I don't mean to me rude. Sorry--you caught me a bit off guard." She smiled sheepishly. 

Terenon's eyebrow shot up as he watched the young girl scamper back into the room. It was the last sight he expected to see. What was she doing here in Serrila's room and why did she wear attire better suited for a marriage bed? Terenon felt the sinking feeling of betrayal.

No, he thought, there must be some sort of logical explaination. Terenon entered the room and shuts the door. He chose his next words carefully. "We had a bit of trouble and I needed to... Where is Serrila anyway? Is she here tonight?" 

Lisa nodded, her eyes still focused on the ground. "Yeah, she's here. She's taking a bath getting ready for bed. Deirdriel went out of town yesterday, and she asked Serrila to take care of me until she gets back. I guess Deir didn't want me to be unsupervised in her tower. Excuse me a moment."

She ducked into a room and emerged a short time later with a heavy robe covering her better than the nightgown did. She gestured to the couch. "So, what happened? Are you alright?" She looked at Terenon, concern evident in her eyes. 

Terenon began to visibly relax. He sat on the couch and looked up to meet Lisa's eyes. "We ran into a bit of trouble," the mage said. "An ambush; it was not good, but all is well now. My plans have changed focus and I need to tie up some loose ends. I thought I might visit with Serrila before I leave tomorrow." 

Lisa smiled warmly. "I'm glad everybody is okay," she said, taking a seat in a chair across from Terenon. She drew her knees up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around them, looking at the mage thoughtfully. "My studies are going well. Deirdriel is a very good teacher, and we're finally getting to some real spells. I never thought I'd ever be able to master the arcane arts, but Deir says I'm a natural at magic. I'm going to be a powerful wizard some day. Like you. I'm going to make a name for myself in this world." 

Terenon had the very same thoughts when he was a teenager. He had been obsessive on the subject of proving himself. Who was he kidding, he still was. He smiled wearly at Lisa and said, "Be careful what you wish for. Anonymity has its benefits as well."

Terenon knew too well. He had distanced himself from the legacy of his family and embraced a new persona all his own. He had pushed himself to become a more powerful spellcaster and his fame had begun to spread. What had it gotten him? Two gruesome deaths and powerful enemies. "Just remember that everything has its price."

Lisa continued to look at Terenon, considering his words. She looked as if she was about to say something else, but then Serrila entered the room, clad in a bathrobe and with a towel wrapped around her head. At the sight of Terenon, Serrila abruptly stopped and drew in a surprised breath. "Terenon? What are you doing back already?" She smiled then. "Missed me too much, did you?"

She moved over to the couch and gave Terenon a kiss, apparently more interested in seeing her lover returned than the explanation of why he had returned. Though distracted, the mage noticed Lisa looking distinctly uncomfortable in front of the act of love. 

Terenon's mind was split between observing Lisa's reaction and the sweet taste of Serrila. He decided that his suspicions needed to be buried for now. He didn't have the energy for an investigation or a fight. All things could be sorted out in the morning...

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

Blue-white sparks flew as the edge of the night-black blade clashed against the head of the enormous axe, turning the weapon aside. The half-dragon Samakel allowed himself a savage grin as he brought his sword back up before his foe, a doughty frost giant warrior nearly twice his size, could react. The blade tore open a wicked gouge from the giant’s knee nearly to his crotch. The enormous warrior bellowed in rage as his white-scaled opponent spun away from the counter assault. Samakel’s blade faintly throbbed in his hand as blood dripped off its tip, almost as if it relished the feel of the giant’s flesh giving way before it.

This, of course, was because it did.

“You toy with this one, my love,” the sibilant voice of _Lifetaker _ purred even as the half-dragon parried another attack from the giant. He ducked beneath the giant’s reach opened another terrible wound, this time across his stomach. The giant stumbled back, waving his axe before him with one hand while trying to hold in his innards with the other.

Samakel nodded with satisfaction at his handiwork. “Patience,” he replied to the magical sword. “Let me have my fun before you slake your thirst.”

_Lifetaker _ throbbed again in Samakel’s grasp, though this time it communicated consternation rather than pleasure. “Always you make me wait. Always my satisfaction is delayed for yours.”

Samakel growled in his throat as he launched a blinding of series of attacks against the giant, forcing him back against the wall and opening numerous minor wounds all along his body.”That is because I am your master,” the half-dragon said. “You serve me, not the other way around. You will drink when I decide you will drink!”

The frost giant raised his axe in a last-ditch attempt to try to save his own life, but Samakel had anticipated this movement, though, was almost disappointed by it. This giant was no better than the countless others he had slain over the years: so predictable, so easy to dispatch. Sighing, the half-dragon moved quicker than he yet had, thrusting _Lifetaker _ point-first up and into the giant’s chest, burying it nearly to the hilt. The giant gasped and dropped his axe, nerveless fingers feebly scrabbling at the blade. 

_Lifetaker _ began to pulse now, and with each pulse, the giant’s skin began to wither and and wrinkle, taking on the consistency of worn leather. His screams of pain grew weaker as the sword _drank _ from him, sucking at his very soul. “Aah! Aaaaah!” The blade nearly moaned with pleasure. Samakel watched with detached interest as the giant toppled over, nothing but a withered husk. He moved over and grabbed the blade, pulling it out of the giant’s chest.

Applause sounded from the end of the room, where Akasa the marilith had watched the battle. Her six hands clapped in unison as Samakel wiped the blood off his sword and returned it to its sheath.

“Well done!” the demon called, a hungry gleam in her eyes. “So much blood and violence! You certainly know how to get a girl worked up.”

Samakel chuckled as he strode over to the snake-woman. The demon’s form began to shift even as he did so, and by the time he reached her she had taken the appearance of a human woman of exquisite proportions, her fiery red hair framing a perfect face. Half-dragon and demoness embraced, and Akasa took up Samakel in a passionate kiss, her tongue slipping into his reptilian maw, his arms roaming her voluptuous body. The marilith’s passions were high after witnessing the battle, and it was with great effort that Samakel eventually extracted himself from the embrace.

“A moment,” the half-dragon said gruffly, unfazed by Akasa’s resulting pout. “Have you learned more about what Helios is about?”

Akasa shook her head, sighing. “That one is canny. He has thus far resisted my advances, and I have been unable to pry his plans from his mind. For the moment, at least, his motives coincide with your father’s, and he is legitimately trying to stop the adventurers.”

“Hmph,” said Samakel. “His plans of late have met with failure. You must convince my father to get the wizard to use his ace in the hole.”

Akasa seemed surprised, but she smiled nonetheless, a wolf’s grin. She was a creature of chaos, and that was what she thrived on. “The girl? It is early yet. He may very well bring the full force of the adventurers down on himself.”

Samakel returned her smile. “That is what I intend. The adventurers will come here and eliminate Helios, then we will destroy them and regain Acessiwal’s favor. _Lifetaker _ will have quite the feast when that day comes.”

Akasa giggled, a sound tinged with malice. “Delightful. Shall we…retire your quarters?”

Samakel grinned toothily and took once last glance at the dead frost giant. “The ogres will take care of him. I’ll take care of you.”

Akasa pulled him close, and with a flash of light, they were gone. 

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

Helios swore softly to himself as he paced around the chamber. Even with their reduced numbers, the adventurers had still managed to fend off, even destroy, four of his creations. They had teleported away shortly thereafter, back to Silverymoon as his scrying had revealed. They were on the path now, though. Acessiwal’s wayward son Taigiel was leading them to Coldheart, and it would only be a few more days before they arrived. 

Yarrick Zan had collected its payment and left, presumably to warmer and safer climes. The assassin had managed to take out two of his targets, but had only succeeded in setting the adventurers back in time and money. Acessiwal had not been willing to pay the exorbitant price to hire the assassin again, and now had ordered the wizard to play his trump card. It wasn’t the time! If he went through with it now, the whole plan might be thrown off! But there was nothing he could do: the dragon would have him slain if he defied its will. He had no choice.

The black-robed wizard waved his hand over the crystal ball in the purple worm-shaped pedestal, conjuring an image of his favored scrying subject of late. The image coalesced into a young girl with chestnut hair curled up on a plush chair: the former street urchin Lisa LaBurton. A few months ago, the wizard had cast several divinations, the results of which revealed that the girl’s path would soon intertwine with those who were fated to destroy the Firebringer. Thinking that it would be good to keep on eye on them, the mage had begun to formulate a plan.

Acessiwal had wanted to call the marilith Akasa to the Prime Material Plane so that he could enter negotiations to secure the aid of Graz’zt’s demonic army. The marilith was a favored servant of the Dark Lord, and her calling would definitely raise attention from both infernal and celestial powers. He had to find some way to distract these other forces. That involved sacrificing a powerful artifact he had had in his possession for some time, an artifact that he knew was valuable, but that he had no practical use for: the Eye of Night’s Embrace. Once it left his possession, Helios knew that the forces of Heaven and Hell would immediately strive to recover it, and in so doing blind themselves to the calling of Akasa.

Helios had traveled to Baldur’s Gate and placed the gem in his pouch, in easy reach of Lisa LaBurton’s pick-pocketing fingers. The contact with the urchin gave him what he needed to make the scrying process easy and reliable. Through her, he could keep tabs on the adventurers and track their progress.

But now, because of Acessiwal’s orders, all that was coming to an end. It was time to take action, and Helios knew the perfect minion through which to act… 

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

Lisa sighed tiredly as she pulled the sheets up to her chest, snuggling into a more comfortable position. The moon hung high in the sky, sending beams of light playing across the room and the girl’s delicate features. She brushed a wayward strand of chestnut hair from her face, her thoughts focused on her miraculous change of fortune, as they often were these days. Not two months ago Lisa had been eking out a meager existence in Baldur’s Gate, a street rat and pickpocket who had to steal to survive. All that changed the fateful day she had accidentally swiped the Eye of Night’s Embrace from that wizard. That act had set into motion the chain of events that had led to the arrival of her saviors, the ones who had taken her to a better life here in Silverymoon.

Brave men they were, and handsome to boot. Especially Terenon. The mage had been the one who had protected Lisa when the ice devil attacked, keeping her safe behind a wall of magical force while the others dealt with the infernal creature. Though Grundar’s outlook on things more closely matched her own, Lisa did not fancy the much-older elf as she did Terenon. Often she would watch him and Serrila flirt and cavort about, stealing a few jealous stares at the way the man obviously cared for the sorceress. Lisa knew her jealousy was irrational, that she would never be able to come between the two lovers, but that did not stop her from picturing Terenon’s face late at night, fantasizing about his arms wrapped around her and his lips on hers.

Lisa suddenly shivered beneath the sheets, feeling gooseflesh rising up beneath her thin bedclothes. The temperature in the room had suddenly dropped, and the girl was a bit surprised to see her breath coming out in misty bursts. A feeling of dread welled up within her heart, as if a malevolent presence had suddenly drawn near. She drew in a breath to call for Serrila, hoping the aasimar would know what to do, but the breath caught in her throat as the creature appeared at the foot of the bed.

It loomed over her, horribly familiar. It looked like a tall, bipedal insect with clawed hands and feet, powerful mandibles, and a long, thick tail covered in razor-sharp spikes. Lisa knew the truth though: it was an ice devil, in fact the very same ice devil that Terenon had saved her from months ago. Only this time, Terenon was not here. Lisa’s eyes widened and she willed her limbs to move, willed herself to flee from this horrid creature! But she could do nothing but cower before the devil’s might, paralyzed by the supernatural fear it exuded!

The ice devil’s features curled up in a wicked grin, reveling in the girl’s terror. Its mandibles clacked together in glee as it leveled its wicked spear at her chest. “You have caused me great irritation, Lisa LaBurton,” the creature intoned. “I will take great satisfaction from dragging your soul to Hell.”

Tears streaming down her face, Lisa let out a shrill scream as the spear plunged toward her heart.


----------



## Imruphel

ltclnlbrain,

I just wanted to say how much I have enjoyed reading this story hour! It's taken me a couple of sittings, thanks to the intrusions of real life, but I've really enjoyed it. Thanks for posting!


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Imruphel said:
			
		

> ltclnlbrain,
> 
> I just wanted to say how much I have enjoyed reading this story hour! It's taken me a couple of sittings, thanks to the intrusions of real life, but I've really enjoyed it. Thanks for posting!




Thanks for reading! I love hearing that others are enjoying my work. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.   

*Chapter 43* 

The scream echoed down the hall, awakening Serrila and Terenon in an instant. The aasimar sat bolt upright in the bed, golden eyes wide with terror. "That scream came from Lisa's room!" she cried.

Terenon was already on his feet, running down the hall. The night air was cold on his naked body, but he barely noticed as he burst into the guest room, into a waking nightmare.

The bed was stained bright red with blood. Lisa's corpse laid sprawled across it, a bloody hole in her chest, her face contorted in an endless scream. Over the body stood Felespar, the ice devil Terenon had faced months earlier in Baldur's Gate, its spear tip drenched with gore. The devil turned as the mage appeared in the room and it clicked its mandibles together in what almost seemed like glee. "I come with a warning from the white wyrm Acessiwal. Cease your meddling, or this girl will only be the first to suffer. One by one, your loved ones will be slaughtered."

Terenon did not waste time with words, launching into the words and gestures of a spell. Magical energies washed over the gelugon, apparently to no effect. The fiend laughed hollowly. "It is a fight you want, mage? I have been looking forward to this rematch for some time." It hefted its spear in anticipation.

Terenon heard a gasp behind him, and turned to see Serrila standing in the doorway in a state of shock.  "Serrila!" he cried. "Get out of here!" The mage wove a quick spell, and numerous illusory doubles appeared of him, moving and weaving about in an intricate dance.

The aasimar swallowed down her bile, but resolutely shook her head, weaving a spell of her own. "You can't take it alone! I can help!" Likewise protected by mirror images, she strode to her lover's side.

"Your illusions will only delay the inevitable," Felespar called as it lashed out with spear and tail. The weapons pierced several of Terenon's and Serrila's images, causing them to wink out of existence.

The mages again work in synchronization, casting the same spell and further warding themselves with displacement effects. Forced to fight without equipment or even clothing, the two would have to rely on their spells and luck to survive. The devil snarled and focused its ire on Terenon, furiously tearing apart mirror image after mirror image. "You've got to be one of them!" it spat.

"Right here," Terenon growled, gathering necromantic energies to his hand and blasting the fiend with a ray of enervation. The devil snarled as its life force was suppressed. Before it could retaliate, Serrila lent her own magic to the battle, firing off a powerful bolt of lightning at Felespar. The devil turned aside, avoiding the brunt of the blast, and the bolt continued on and punched a hole in the wall behind it. The electricity crackled out into the night sky before dissipating.

Already, the burns from the lightning bolt were beginning to regenerate. Felespar knocked out Terenon's last mirror image, then cackled as he laid into the mage with his spear--or so he thought. By some small miracle, each of the fiend's attacks hit not the mage, but his magically displaced image!  The cackle turned into a shriek of frustration.

Terenon seized on the advantage, sending another enervation ray at the devil. Serrila launched another lightning bolt, and hampered by the negative energy, the fiend caught it full in the chest, scorching its carapace and filling the room with the stench of ozone and charred flesh.

Reeling a bit, Felespar took a few steps back and took one hand from its longspear, thrusting it forward. A spiraling barrage of cold and ice assaulted the two mages, freezing their skin and tearing at their flesh. Serrila took the blast much harder than Terenon; she was forcibly knocked back against the wall, numerous lacerations appearing on her body. 

Seeing Serrila hurt, Terenon felt a rush of emotion surging up inside him: concern, fear, anger. He had to end this quickly. Focusing on another spell, the mage took a gamble. He hoped that the enervation had eroded the fiend's will enough for the spell to be successful.

Felespar raised its hand to send another chilling blast at the mages, when suddenly it locked rigidly in place. Its eyes burned with inner fire, but it could no longer move. "Serrila!" Terenon said. "Get my dagger to finish him off!" The aasimar raced out of the room, but even as she did, the devil's mocking laughter echoed in Terenon's mind. 

"You may have bested me, but you are too late to save the girl's soul. Remember the warning well." There was a blinding flash of light, and when it clears, the devil was gone. 

Terenon's skin showed red despite the blast of cold he had suffered. The rage he felt was immense. He paced back and forth in the small room. A scream of anguish escaped his lips as his fists slammed against the wall. "NO! No, no, no, no!" His fury had no vessel. He could only rage against the empty air.

After a time, he became aware that Serrila had returned.  The aasimar was on her knees, sobbing. His arms wrapped around her as he held her close. He began to cry. For the first time since he was a child, he cried. For what seemed like forever, he let the grief overwhelm him. How petty he was to think the thoughts he did earlier in the evening. 

Felespar's words echoed in his head. _"I come with a warning from the white wyrm Acessiwal. Cease your meddling, or this girl will only be the first to suffer. One by one, your loved ones will be slaughtered." _ 

Hours passed. Sunlight streamed in through the wall in Lisa's room, but it brought no warmth.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

And lo, we have returned...

*Chapter 44* 

A small grin crossed Jelani's face, wholly inappropriate.  “It sounds a little bit like a challenge. Not that it matters, but this is an obvious trap.”

The servant of Akadi sat with his other companions around the table in the inn's common room.  Terenon had just finished recounting the events of the previous night, and while the others were alternatively depressed or concerned, Jelani could not help but congratulate Acesiwal's servants. It wasn’t every day that an enemy read everyone like a book. They had found something that was almost guaranteed to bring an enraged Terenon right to their doorstep.

"I doubt it. At least, I doubt the attack from last night signifies some new level of trickery we will have to face," Rumar rumbled, doing his best to appear unconcerned about the bits in the story Terenon mentioned involving his sister. Not terribly difficult, so long as he focused instead on the anger he felt that the his sister was with the mage when the attack happened. "They clearly already know we are coming, if not outright where we've been at any given day - the golems hounding us have certainly 'hinted' at that."

"No, I do not fear this new development. I do, however, fear for the girl's soul. I do not know for certain what the devil meant, but if it had some way to drag Lisa along with it into the hellish realm..."

Rhys nodded severely. "I fear for the poor girl.  I tried to bring her back from the dead earlier this morning, but the prayer was unsuccessful.  It was not that her soul did not want to return; I couldn't even locate her soul at all."

Grundar looked away in contemplation, watching as a well-built, silver-haired half-elven woman made her way down the stairs into the common room.  He followed her progress as she sat at a table across the room and called a serving girl over, then the elf sighed and looked back at his companions. "This dragon is starting to annoy me. First Zan, now this. From the looks of this, Serilla is in grave danger if we leave her here. That ice devil sure had an easy way of getting in and out of this place. Just like Zan. I hate that! Makes me wish i had powers like that too..." Grundar banged his fist on the table in frustration.

"So Terenon, are we still going to go after Zan now? Or shall we deal with Acessiwal first?"

Terenon looked hard at Grundar.  "My main concern now is to ensure Serrila is safe from harm. I am going to petition Lady Alustriel for her personal protection of our loved ones. I don't see how she can refuse once I explain the situation. As far as what do do next. Jelani is right. This was done to prevoke our ire, especially mine. The intent I'm sure is to have us race into a trap. Zan will be taken care of later."

"I feel we should be concerned about who's behind the attack," said Rhys softly, glancing over his shoulder as if somebody was there listening. "The dragon, though certainly wishing our demise, has no reason to have gone after Lisa. He could've accomplished the same, and more, by going after Serrila. Also, the fiend that slayed the girl was the same devil that was looking for her after she stole that gem from a mage, I believe. That mage would have reason to go after Lisa, so we may want to conclude that whomever the mage is, he is probably working for or with the dragon. That would also explain the scrying I felt the other day."

Terenon was surprised at the extent of Rhys' paranoia as of late. He was beginning to think the cleric had caught it from him. "The gem was stolen from the mage Helios, that is true. The fact that it was out from under its protective magics and in Lisa's hands allowed it to be pursued by both celestial and demonic forces, that is also true. The same Ice Devil did kill Lisa under commands of Acessiwal, but it is a stretch to say Helios works for the dragon. I do agree that the coincidence does bear investigation. There is something linking the wyrm and the mage, but it could be anything.

"The preparations I spoke of will address questions being answered. But I must take my leave now, and take Serrila to a safe place." The wizard bowed stiffly before moving quickly for the door.

Rumar was about to say something, when the half-elf Grundar had been looking at earlier began speaking to the innkeeper.  Her voice was strong and carried across the nearly-empty room with ease. "Excuse me sir, but do you know where a girl of my talents might be able to make some honest money? I need to find me some work that pays well, but most of all is honest. I would prefer to meet up with an adventuring group that share the same view on life as I do. Do you happen to know someone who could help me with that? Or do you happen to know such a group yourself?”  The woman looked over her shoulder at the adventurers gathered at the table before turning back to the innkeeper.

Rumar's first impulse was to think the situation blatantly suspicious. After all, someone openly declaring their desire for work with a group such as theirs at the precise time when they needed help was...well...pecuiliar. The incidents of last night had also shown that the enemy could strike from anywhere at anytime. Of course, unless Taigiel had some ingeniously cunning plot in motion, he was counter-proof that not all things suspicious need be feared.  _One way to find out,_ he thought, narrowing his gaze as he searched for traces of evil in the woman's aura.  Finding none, he stood from his chair and strode over towards the half-elf.

The proud woman held her ground as the aasimar approached, seeming to size him up in much the same way he was appraising her.  Her eyes, a strange blue on gold, sparkled as she took him in.  "May I help you?" she asked.

"That would depend," the paladin declared loudly, head, as always, hidden deep within his helmet. "Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

“That depends indeed. I would like to know who is asking. Call me paranoid, but I have been around too long to answer, let alone trust someone, who addresses me without showing his or her face. I would see your face before agreeing to anything, but know that, once given, my word is my bond and I will follow any righteous order or die trying.” The woman shrugged, her movements tinged with a strange tenseness.

"A fair enough request," Rumar responded, nodding. Reaching up with gauntleted hands, the man smoothly pulled his helmet off. With his head exposed, it was pretty much impossible to miss that he was clearly not human. Two eyes that blankly swirled with milky whiteness, a head either naturally bald or shaved clean, and skin which, while it could be called olive-tinged, could also just as easily be named green. Of course, there were also those two huge, pearly-white wings twitching now and again along his back. Not that the helmet being on or off must make much of a difference there.

Rumar kept still for a moment to allow the half-elf to look upon his face, but, within seconds, he had hidden his visage back beneath the shroud of steel. "It is difficult enough to keep from drawing attention," the warrior muttered, flexing and unflexing one hand unconsciously. "If you would not mind, I'd prefer we continue our conversation like this. As such; I am Rumar. My companions and I are in the midst of preparing to hunt down and face a honorless dragon; perhaps we may talk over there, to work out the fine details?"

The woman visibly relaxed.  "Well met, Rumar. I am called Galiana Silvermane. Those whom I call friends call me Gani. And yes, I would gladly accept your invitation if the goal is to rid the world of some overgrown lizard with an attitude."

Rumar nodded and lead Galiana over to their table.  Grundar, Jelani, and Rhys looked at the woman with interest as the paladin said, "This is Galiana Silvermane. She has agreed to join our group and help us defeat the wyrm."

"Greetings, Galiana," said Rhys.  "I am Rhys Thurn, priest of Torm. I'm not sure what Rumar told you about us, but you can count on it being true."

The half-elf's face lit up in a bright smile. "Fortunately Rumar here has told me only good things about you. Well met Rhys Thurn, it is always good to meet people who strive to make the world a better place."

"That's us alright," said Grundar, He stood from his chair and bowed before Galiana, taking her hand and lightly pressing his lips to the back of it. "I am Grundar, and it is quite a pleasure to meet you."

Gani felt herself blushing a bit. "It's nice to meet you too," she said quickly.  "Well, I am ready to head out whenever you are. I just need to grab my gear from my quarters."

Rumar looked to Jelani, who nodded slightly.  He then shifted his gaze to Grundar.  "You still plan to stay here and help the mage?"

The elf nodded in reply.  "I promised him I would. Besides...I don't think he should be alone at a time like this."

"Very well, then," said Rumar. "GAliana, retrieve your equipment and meet us outside. We will go to Rhys' temple to fetch our friend Taigiel, and then we will be teleporting far to the north and resuming our journey. I suggest you dress warmly."


----------



## A'vandira Silvermane

At last. Finally I'm in the SH


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## Imruphel

Good to see an update!

Well, I'm rather greedy: more please!


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## ltclnlbrain

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Good to see an update!
> 
> Well, I'm rather greedy: more please!




Yes, yes, patience, I say!  I'm going to try to stick to at least one update a week, though don't beat me up if that doesn't happen. Just keep watching the thread; you'll see some new stuff eventually.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Glad to see you're keeping this storyhour alive 'brain. I'll keep on reading (and enjoying) as long as you do.



> I'm going to try to stick to at least one update a week, though don't beat me up if that doesn't happen.




I'm not promising anything ...


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## Imruphel

Just a quick reminder that tomorrow will be a week....


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## ltclnlbrain

Yes, I know.  Unfortunately, PlaybyWeb.com is undergoing some issues and I can't access the old threads that I am basing the story hour on (or anything on the site for that matter).  So the next update will be delayed a bit until they can fix the problems.


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## Imruphel

Well, it looks like I'll just have to be patient....


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## ltclnlbrain

Hey, you waited three months for the latest update, you can wait a few more days for the next one...I want to write it as much as you all want to read it.

To whet your appetites, I can give you some hints about what will happen in the next post.  Terenon visits Lady Alustriel and works with Grundar to set an intricate plan into motion, while the rest of the party return to the frozen northlands only to come across a strange woman walking across the tundra...


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## Imruphel

Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to wait three months again! 

PS: Thanks for posting your stuff; I'm really enjoying it.


----------



## ltclnlbrain

Imruphel said:
			
		

> Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to wait three months again!
> 
> PS: Thanks for posting your stuff; I'm really enjoying it.




Well, luckily, I managed to find an archive of the thread I was typing up for the story hour on my laptop. Glad to hear that people are still putting up with me after such infrequent updates. 

*Chapter 45*

Serrila and Terenon wearily made their way through Silverymoon's streets toward the great palace. Neither felt much desire for conversation.  Terenon looked at his lover, and his eyes bore compassion and warmth, but the aasimar was unable to return his gaze.  Serrila had taken the events of the previous night extremely hard, and had drew into herself.  She had not spoken a word since the morning had come, and Terenon could only guess at what dark thoughts rolled through her mind.

Upon arrival at their destination, the two mages were quickly ushered into the palace and lead through the grand halls to a small reception chamber.  A few minutes later, the beautiful Lady Alustriel entered the room. Serrila and Terenon rose to honor her, the wizard sketching a perfunctory bow. The lady's smile quickly faltered as she saw the expressions on her guests countenances.

"I assume this visit is not a social call," she said, gracefully taking a seat across from the mages.  

Terenon shook his head gravely, then told the tale of Lisa's demise.  Alustriel's grief was obvious as the morbid story reached its conclusion.  "I will not take the dragon's warning lightly," Terenon said after his tale was through. ""I cannot leave Serrila alone, unprotected. I am asking you to extend protection to Serrila, until the vile wyrm is no more." _Or until we are no more_, he added silently.

Alustriel nodded and turned to the aasimar. "Serrila must stay here, as a ward of the state. She will be very well taken care of, and I will do all in my power to ensure her safety." Her expression softened, and she says, softly, "I am sorry for your loss."  

Serrila suppressed a sniffle, her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. "Thank you, m'lady," she murmured, the first thing she had said all day.  

Terenon sighed in relief. He knew he could trust the Lady's word, and perhaps the time spent with Alustriel would help raise his lover's spirits. "Yes, thank you Lady Alustriel." The wizard turned and embraced Serrila, hugging her close to him. "Don't worry my love. I will take care of everything." He kisses her on the cheek, and the aasimar sniffled again.  Then with a nod to Alustriel, he took his leave.

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

Grundar was waiting for Terenon when the mage returned to the inn. "The others have left already?" the mage asked, noting the absence of the other adventurers.

"Yeah, and they took a half-elven woman with them," Grundar said lightly.

Terenon raised an eyebrow but declined to comment.  "Very well.  I will need a day or two to scribe some new spells into my spellbook. Then we shall construct a special prison to bind the ice devil, Felespar. We will force him to release Lisa's soul and provide with information on the dragon and his minions."

Grundar nodded and followed the mage as he moved to leave. "I sure hope you know what you're doing. The others won't be there to back us up. If the devil breaks free, we're in big trouble."

Terenon looked over his shoulder at the elf. "Then we must make sure he does not break free. Come along, I know just the place to lay our snare."

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

Galiana shivered against the biting cold, pulling her cloak closer around her. The half-elf's armored boots constantly sunk into the snow, and she struggled to keep up with the rest of the party.  The others seemed to have magical boots of some sort that allowed them to walk along the top of the powdery slush with ease. Rhys would occasionally look back to check her progress, but Gani always met his gaze with a reassuring grin. The doughty warrior was not one to complain, especially when Rumar and the others so readily accepted her into their fold. She was determined not to let them down.

A low growl sounded behind her, and Galiana had to suppress a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.  Rumar had explained to her about Taigiel, but that did nothing to alleviate the uneasiness she felt having the hulking half-dragon in their midst. For his part, Taigiel seemed neither put off nor amused by her obvious discomfort, merely accepting it. He had dealt with fear and revulsion long enough to become inured to their barbs. The ranger was just glad to be on the trail again. Acessiwal was not so far away now, and with his sire's death would come his freedom.

Up ahead, something moving broke up the monotony of the bleak white backdrop. Two dozen enormous beasts lumbered across the snowy plain in a great herd. Their hulking, brown forms could not conceal their large white tusks. They resembled the elephant that Rhys sometimes summoned, but these creatures were covered in shaggy fur. 

The party's attention was drawn from these great beasts to a smaller figure, warily trudging towards them. This figure looked like a human woman, though her dark red skin and flaming bright hair marked her as something else. Her footfalls melted the snow as she walked.

Jelnai stared at the woman moving toward them for a moment, but quickly drew his spear.  He turned to the group, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but with our luck lately, we’d best be ready to fight.”  

Rumar nodded and drew his sword, opening his mouth to shout out to the approaching woman, only to pause suddenly, his beginning words falling off. Turning his head, he looked at the others uncertainly. "Er...what in the world is someone like that doing up here? I can't imagine she's working for the dragon; a being of fire would hardly be his desired partner. Perhaps it is an underling of one of the dragon's other allies? Demonic in nature?"  

Jelani shrugged. “I think that the dragon takes allies of all sorts. They’re smart, and he’s not made of ice after all. I think she might be a creature of the Plane of Fire, a genasi. There’s one way to find out if she’s hostile.”  Taking a step forward, he called out carefully, “Excuse me, do you have a minute to speak with us?”  

The woman had since drawn her bow as she moved closer, but the comment seemed to bring her up short. She stopped for a moemnt as she tried to think of an appropriate response. "Maybe," she called out. "But first you have to tell me why you travel with a Dragon-Blood." 

"I can speak for myself," called Taigiel. The half-dragon moved past the others to look at the strange woman, glowering down at her. "I am Taigiel, son of Acessiwal the White. We travel north to Coldheart to kill my father. If you are an ally of the wyrm, then you are in our way." He rested his hands on the hilts of his swords.

The red-skinned woman was obviously perplexed. She grimaced and lowered her bow slightly before speaking slowly and choosing her words carefully. "Creature, I am Aspar Tenerect, and I am sworn to slay the dragon Acessiwal and all its kin. For your own sake, tell me now why you hunt your father, or I shall be honorbound to attack you and your companions." 

Rhys stepped forward then, coming in between the half-dragon and the genasi. "Lady Aspar Tenerect, I am Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm," he said, bowing slightly. "Taigiel has proven himself a worthy companion and I am convinced of the devoutness of his path. Should you also be of similar purpose, you are welcome to join us on our quest to slay Acessiwal. You've spoken openly and travel with purpose and alone, in such an alien environment. That speaks well of you're character and word. I ask that you do join us and let all of our actions speak of our truth."  

Jelani spoke up again as he moved beside Rhys. “I assure you, each of us is dedicated to removing Acessiwal’s threat. And since I’m feeling fair, I have to warn you that if you attack Taigiel, we will have to kill you. It’s nothing personal, but even if you’re dedicated to removing the dragon as well, he has proved himself to be a capable ally. Right now he’s more valuable in this fight than you are.”  

Rumar laid a gauntleted hand on Jelani's shoulder, a subtle warning. "I'd prefer to think that we'd merely try to subdue the woman, Jelani; simply because she does not immediately trust the child of someone she apparently hates is no reason to kill her."  

Rhys nodded and turned to the mystic theurge as well. "Jelani, though we would most assuredly defend Taigiel. We have the responsibilty to treat Lady Aspar with the same respect and wisdom we extended Taigiel."  

“And if he had attacked one of you right off, I would have killed him as well," Jelani replied simply. "If you would prefer that I just allow people to attack you without acting, let me know and I will.”  

"Correct; I wouldn't want people just attacking me, but neither Taigiel or Lady Aspar did. Therefore, they are owed the courtesy and wisdom of conversation and a friendly greeting, especially in such a harsh evironment as this."  

Jelani stared at Rhys, “I didn’t say that she did, but she made her position clear and I was just making ours equally so. I really don’t care if it seemed rude, now she is aware of just where we…or should I say I stand." 

"I just think it'd be needless to kill her, especially when she's simply misguided," Rumar said, gesturing at Aspar. "Everyone deserves a chance to learn from their mistakes; death makes that rather hard to accomplish. While I can understand you being stalwart in your defense of Taigiel and applaud that, I also think you should temper that courage with a degree of compassion."

Aspar's face took on a wry expression as she watched the strangers bicker amongst each other, blatantly ignoring her even while they casually talked about her death. 

Taigiel looked over to Galiana, who was watching the entire encounter from a distance with some manner of confusion. "Is it always like this?" the half-elf whispered.  

"You have no idea," Taigiel replied. The half-dragon sighed and pressed a clawed hand to his temples, massaging the knot that was forming there. Yet again, the adventurers whose aid he had enlisted had begun to argue amongst themselves. He wondered if he might not have had less stress had he continued on his own, but there was not much he could do now.

"Genasi, I have no love for my kindred. My blood is a curse I cannot overcome. I was forced to flee my hometown of Latona at the age of ten. I kept to the wilderness, ashamed of my heritage, and waging a private war against orcs, ogres, and other evil creatures of the lands. Three months ago, wracked with despair and loneliness, I came across an abandoned shrine to Tempus. There, I heard a voice. It could only have belonged to the god himself. The voice pronounced that only with the death of my sire could I be free. Acessiwal must die. That is all there is to it. If you share the same goal with me, then I do not care what your motivations are. Together we stand a better chance of ending the dragon's reign. Join with us."  

Aspar looked at Taigiel for a few moments, then lowered her bow. "Alright, Dragon-Blood. I agree, Acessiwal must die. If you and your friends are on the same quest, then I will join you. Against one such as Acessiwal, I would be a fool not to appreciate the help. Know this though, should you betray me I will know that you are of the same ilk as your father, and I will have to kill you." 

With that, she slung her weapon and joined the group, who had apparently finished their argument. As she approached, she put her fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle and shouted, "Smoke!" Immediately from behind a snow drift loped a feral-looking wolf with black and gray fur. It bounded up to Aspar, who bent to pat it on the side of the head and rub its ears. It nestled in to her, seeming to take advantage of her warmth on the cold tundra. "This is my companion, Smoke," she explained to the others.

The adventurers formally introduced themselves to Aspar in turn.  "We should make camp soon," said Rhys, noting the lateness of the hour. He then turned to the genasi. "I am glad that we were able to convince you to join us, Aspar."

She smiled at the aasimar cleric. "You are a brave man, Rhys Thurn. You choose diplomacy before action. I admire that, for that is not one of my strengths." 

Rhys returned her smile. "Might I ask why you seek Acessiwal's death?"

"We can discuss that later as well as compare what we all know about him." Aspar cast a look at Taigiel. "Let us find a camp soon. I believe it will be cold tonight."


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Great to see another update, 'Brain. A good read, as always.



> Aspar's face took on a wry expression as she watched the strangers bicker amongst each other, blatantly ignoring her even while they casually talked about her death.




This is so like any number of incidents I've had in the past, both as player and DM - in character discussions of tactics or philosophy at not necessarily opportune moments!


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## Imruphel

Thanks for the update. I'm looking forward to seeing how this continues to develop.


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## ltclnlbrain

*Chapter 46*

It was not long before the party found a suitable location to set up their camp.  Aspar and Taigiel volunteered to keep watch, neither yet fully willing to be defenseless in the presence of the other.  They shared few words as the night passed, the howling winds of the tundra outside their shelter the only accompaniment.

Rhys lay awake for some time, too, thinking on the vision he had received the other night. _ Remember that as long as you live in the hearts of others, you will never truly die,_ his father had said to him. Was it an omen, perhaps?  Or a riddle to be solved? The aasimar did not understand, but he had faith that Torm would reveal to him his duty when the time came.

The night passed without incident, and in the morning the party resumed the trek to the Mect Cliffs, where Coldheart lay. By midday, they could see their destination on the horizon: towering cliffs of white ice and stone. A river sheated in broken ice flows ran sluggishly away from the cliffs, and Taigiel assured that it was this river that wouldl lead them to the entrance to Coldheart.

A noise in the distance caused the adventurers to look off to the west. Rumbling over a snow-covered hill came four great, furry mastodons. Despite their immense bulk, they moved quickly through the snow. Each of them bore a rider: a pale-skinned, white-haired frost giant. The giants made no attempt at stealth as they approached, though they made no threatening gestures either.

 Jelani glanced around at the group, “Why don’t we see if we can get through this without a fight. It’s not that we couldn’t handle them, but it would be nice to have some allies to deal with some of the dragon’s armies.”

Galiana drew her greatsword as a precaution, but she kept its tip pointed toward the ground. "Sounds like you already have some experience with them Jelani. Well, if they are friendly they might make fine allies, but I do not trust them. At least not yet. They better not make a wrong move or they will find themselves on the receiving end of Equalor." Saying this, she slightly lifted her sword to clarify whom she meant with the name.

Rumar made no move to draw his sword, for he neither feared nor respected these frost giants. Pity was the only emotion they evoked in him. "Do not worry. I am sure Jelani can persuade them to stand aside. They would have to be mad to attempt to stop us now."

The giants stopped their mounts a fair distance away from the group. The furry beasts trumpeted uneasily as the giants took stock of the party. Then, one giant urged his mastodon a few more paces forward. "Bit cold for you short 'uns, isn't it?" he asked almost casually. "What are you doing this far north of Latona?"

Jelani approached the giants and began speaking fluently in their language. The others watched on, unable to understand the conversation. At one point the giant leader laughed mournfully and shook his head, but then Jelani pointed at Taigiel and spoke at length.  The giants began whispering excitedly between themselves, occasionally looking up at Taigiel or pointing in his direction. The leader nodded, seemingly impressed.

"We have heard tales of the one called Taigiel, and his prowess in combat," the giant said,"  the giant continued, switching to Common and addressing the group at large. "We have not heard any stories of the rest of you little ones. Tell us a tale of your victories. Impress us with your power, and we may lend you our aid."

Rhys stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Perhaps you would like to hear the story of our defeat the vile slaad lord, Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer. It all began a few months ago..." The priest told the story from its beginning, from the fateful day in Silverymoon when the false Merik Thornridge set up the group to take out the Acolytes of Flame at Acessiwal's behest, all the way up to the bloody battle with the Firebringer himself. Aspar and Galiana listened with interest, for they had not heard the story before. The giants remained silent throughout the tale, making no indication of whether they were impressed or not.

When at last the priest reached the story's conclusion, the leader nodded and turned his gaze to Aspar and Galiana. "What of your females? What deeds can they lay claim to?" 

 Galiana looked up to meet the giant's gaze. "Although I think my past exploits are of no concern to you, I understand that people like you think strength and battle prowess are all-important. Therefore, I will tell you that the covey of green hags that I faced with three other friends in the Lurkwood are no longer around to tell the tale. It is this battle where I obtained the sword I am wielding today. When it became apparent that this sword was dedicated to the bringing of law to the lawless I undertook a private quest and had it consecrated in the Temple of Corellon Larethian in Evereska so that it is now not only the tool of Law, but also a force for the power of Good."  The tone of the woman's voice changed slightly in pitch, not threatening but confident and self-aware, promising a swift death should the giants decide to turn hostile.  "I trust this will satisfy your curiosity, and if not just learn to deal with it or bear the consequences."

Next Aspar strode forward, her wolf companion at her heels.  "I am Aspar Tenerect. I was born to avenge the defeat of my fathers - the efreet - at the hands of the white dragon Acessiwal. I have journeyed with efreet and salamanders. I have fought wyverns and hydras. I have hunted dragons from Calimshan to Tantras and the High Forest. Now at last I have traced Acessiwal to his lair. I challenge any who would seek to hinder me or my companions from completing our task." With that, she drew one of the scimitars at her belt. With a word, bright flames erupted along the length of the blade, and the genasi raised the weapon into a defensive stance.

Galiana grinned at Aspar and raised her sword as well. "The lady Aspar has spoken well, and I stand by her. We are on a mission, and you can join if you like, or you can die trying to prevent us from accomplishing our goal." 

The giants were silent for a few moments, then the leader began to chuckle deep in his throat. "Your ire and determination are impressive, little ladies, but I believe they would be put to better use against Acessiwal and his minions."

Galiana turned to Aspar and winked. Then, to the genasi's surprise, the half-elf began to speak in Ignan, the language of flame. "Little ladies, he says. I guess he doesn't understand how little size matters."

Aspar cocked an eyebrow slightly at the revelation that Galiana also spoke Ignan. Interesting.  "I agree,"  she said quietly, also in Ignan, then turned her attention back to the giants

"Your deeds are noteworthy indeed," their leader was saying, "and perhaps you will succeed where many others have failed. One of our major failings is that we were never able to determine exactly where Coldheart lies, much less how to enter it. With Taigiel, though, you stand a much better chance of finding it. You will have the support of my band in this endeavor. The dragon has captured a few of our kind and uses them as slaves. Ertu will go with you and help liberate them, and he will fight alongside you, as loyal an ally as you will ever find."

One of the other giants rode his mastodon forward beside the leader and affected a salute. "It is my honor to take the fight to the dragon who has caused our people so much hardships," he said proudly.

“Welcome to our group Ertu," Jelani said. "Your aid is most welcome. The question of the moment is whether to continue our journey tonight, or to rest and start out fresh in the morning. Taigiel, how much further is it to the entrance? Are we likely to make it by nightfall, or is it still a bit of a journey?”

"We will definitely reach Coldheart by nightfall," affirmed Taigiel, "though whether we will have the energy to launch an assault on the complex once we arrive is debatable. It would probably be unwise to set up camp so close to the lair of the white wyrm, as he no doubt will have many eyes out looking for us. It may be wiser to camp here for the night and reach Coldheart at midday tomorrow. Ultimately, it is your decision."

"Would he be expecting an attack at night?" asked Rhys. After thinking for a few moments, he continued. "Actually, what is the normal routine for those who live there and how much of the complex can you describe?"

Taigiel shook his head. "I do not know. I have never been to Coldheart before. One of Acessiwal's agents approached me several weeks ago and offered me a chance to join his cause. He told me how to reach Coldheart, and told me once I arrived to wait outside and I would be shown the way in. Beyond that, I know nothing."

"Does Acessiwal know of your desire to destroy him?" Rhys asked.

 "Acessiwal's agent approached me about a month ago, before Tempus spoke to me and told me how to ease my suffering. Though I hated my father then, I had not yet set out to kill him. He may not be aware of my quest. Though, if his agents have been watching you, he may have already learned that I travel with you."

"Then let us camp here for the night, that we may be fresh and hale when we reach the dragon's lair," said Ertu.  He had dismounted from his great elephantine mount, and the other giants were leading it along as they trundled away across the tundra. 

Aspar and Taigiel worked to erect a shelter and set up camp again. For his part, Ertu remained silent throughout much of the evening, keeping watchful eyes to the north and partaking of a large haunch of _something_ from his pack as his meal.

The night passed without event, but the morning brought an unexpected complication: a large snowstorm was bearing down from the north. It would be upon the camp within an hour or two.

"It is not safe for little folk such as yourselves to be out in such weather," said Ertu. "You may be tougher than most, but we will not make any progress with such severe winds and blinding sheets of snow. It would be best for us to seek shelter and wait for the storm to pass before continuing on."

Galiana's expression was dark as she looked at the approaching storm.  "In Corellon's name, this looks like too much of a coincidence to me. Just as we are about to continue the weather turns this bad. I think our big companion has spoken true enough that we will not be gaining much ground in this weather.

Aspar was already starting to shiver. "That storm is definitely too cold for my tastes. If you know somewhere we can hole up for a while, let's go. If we can't get to the dragon's lair in this weather, then hopefully it means that the enemy can't get to us, either."

The frost giant nodded. "This way, then." He lead the group a short distance away from the camp, where a small cave in the foothills promised to offer protection from the storm. And just in time: no sooner did they secure themselves within than the snowstorm arrived, the winds driving stinging cold all around. It wouldl be a while before it passed.

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

Meanwhile, miles away in Silverymoon, Terenon awoke with a grim determination in his heart. His preparations were finally completed, and the time had come to attempt his dangerous plan.


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## ltclnlbrain

Just a short one today, more to come soon...

*Chapter 47* 

The Dungeon of the Ruins was in much the same condition as it had been the last time Grundar and Terenon had been here. Grundar looked around the binding chamber, shuddering a bit at bad memories of mind flayers and slaad lords. "Are you sure about this?" he asked his friend. "If the fiend gets loose, it will be a tough fight with only the two of us."

Terenon smiled grimly. "Grundar, my friend, the devil will be bested today. Make no mistake about that. I am going to layer some protections on us, then I will begin the binding. It will take a few seconds; just stand still."

The elf sighed but did as he was bidden. Terenon began to cast a suite of protective spells; spells that would render the two of them immune to mind-affecting effects, cold damage, and resistant to physical blows. The mage then spendt a few minutes preparing his trap. He created a perfect circle of powdered silver ten feet in diameter, then inscribed a special two-dimensional bounded figure with no gaps along its circumference. He then enchanted the circle against evil creatures, further warding it with an effect to prevent extradimensional travel.

He pulled out the final scroll and began reading the enchantment. Grundar watched the whole affair with interest, though he really had no idea what's going on. After a few more minutes, the scroll suddenly caught flame, and Terenon released it as it burned up.

A terrible screeching noise filled the room as a jagged tear in reality appeared within the circle. The head of the ice devil Felespar appeared out of the tear, weirdly stretched and distorted. The devil screamed as it tried to pull itself back through the tear, but the force of the binding spell was inexorable, and with a flash of brimstone, its entire body appeared trapped within the circle.

Felespar screeched as it tries to teleport away, but the power failed due to the dimensional anchor effect. Snarling, it held out a hand and sendt forth a deadly cone of cold, but the effect of the spell ended as soon as it reached the boundary of the magic circle. The devil tested the edges of the circle until it was confident there was no way it could leave. Growling, it fixed its gaze on Terenon. "You again! Must I be constantly tormented by your victories over me? Why have you bound me?"

Terenon turned to Grundar and smiles darkly. It had worked. The mage's mouth turned down into a sneer as he spoke to the devil. "I think you know why. I have designed this to be your new home for as long as Lisa's soul is tormented. You can leave once you have released Lisa's soul, and once you have revealed all the information you know on Acessiwal and his minions. Otherwise, you will be confined here for all eternity, unless some fool brings you relief through your destruction. You have one chance. We will be leaving to Coldheart soon, and our prospects for survival are slim. If I die, there will be no chance for you to escape." 

The devil snarled and twitched its long tail back and forth in irritation. It crossed its spindly arms across its chest and tilted its head to one side oddly. "I know nothing of Acessiwal or his minions, beyond the fact that the wizard who called me to do his bidding is a sniveling wretch with a penchant for cruel irony. For years he kept hidden from my master the _Eye of Night's Embrace_; for years, I searched the multiverse for the whelp, to snuff his pitiful existence and reclaim the artifact. And then he has the gall to force me to serve him!

"Now to top things off, you, the one who prevented me from retrieving the artifact, want me to do you a favor? Perhaps you value the the girl's soul more than I value my freedom? I can endure centuries of imprisonment; I will not die. You may live out the rest of your life without finding what you seek, while she burns in the flames of Hell for eternity. What is she worth to you?" 

Terenon's eyes went wide at the mention of the _Eye_. So it was true. Helios was at the center of this. That bastard hired Zan. He must have used Lisa as a scrying focus to monitor the group and its plans, then he killed her to make a point. Slowly, the fury began to rise with Terenon's blood.

Felespar laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the mage's dawning comprehension and subsequent anger. "I see you are familiar with the one called Helios, then. His treachery has affected us both." The fiend sidled up against the edge of its prison and fixed Terenon with an intense stare. "Promise me you will kill Helios and I will tell you what you need." 

Terenon smiled back at the devil with great malice. "Oh...he will die. Death will be a sweet release once I am through with him. Tell me what I need to know and release Lisa, and our business will be done." 

"You wish for me to release Lisa's soul. I am sad to say that I cannot. It was to be the payment for my service to Helios, but the thieving bastard somehow cheated me out of it. When I returned to Hell, the soul of Lisa LaBurton did not come with me. I have been unable to locate it. I have told you what I know. Now release me!" 

"Lies" Terenon snapped. "Release her soul or rot here." 

"Would that I could!" snarled Felespar. "I don't know where her soul is! Yes, I loathe the girl, but one measly whelp is not worth being imprisoned on this poor excuse for a world! I told you all I know! Release me!" 

Terenon whirled away from the devil and paced the floor. A few minutes passed before he turned back and faced Felespar. "I don't yet believe you. In the heat of battle you made it very clear you took her soul. You will be bound to this spot until the mountains crumble and the seas dry up."

"You must belive me!" the devil cried again, but his words fall on uncaring ears as Terenon prepared to leave. He beckoned Grundar over as he cast a minor cantrip, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it out. Long strands of hair fell away, leaving a closely shorn head.

"It is time to leave," the mage told the elf. "We will have to speak to my mother and I need to make a good impression."

"You'll pay for this, wizard! I will find a way out of here, and then I swear that there will be no place in the multiverse you can run where I won't find you! You--" The rest of Felespar's threat went unheard as Grundar and Terenon disappeared in a flash of light.


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## Graywolf-ELM

Call me wierd or whatever you like.  I think that was my favorite update in recent memory.

GW


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Call me wierd or whatever you like.  I think that was my favorite update in recent memory.
> 
> GW




OK ... You're wierd.   

Actually, I really enjoyed that too. I think it's good to see PCs getting tough with the bad guys in ways other than just smiting them ... not that there's anything wrong with a bit of smiting too.


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## ltclnlbrain

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Call me wierd or whatever you like.  I think that was my favorite update in recent memory.
> 
> GW




It was a lot of fun to RP that scene, too. 

*Chapter 48*

The smells of home. There was nothing quite like it. The mixture of moist air, Ganther flowers, and a hint of apple blossom. Terenon had not been back for many years. It filled him with mixed emotions.

Grundar and Terenon had teleported far away from the Dungeon of the Ruins, in the Dalelands east of the Silver Marches. Specifically, in Daggerdale, and even more specifically, in the town of Dagger Falls. The mighty Falls themselves laid just beyond the city's south wall, sending a spectacular spray into the air as the Tesh river drove the water on its journey to the Moonsea. Toward the center of the town were the higher-class residences, including the home of Terenon's mother. The three-story mansion was made of some sparkling stone, probably enchanted to enhance its beauty. An elegant knocker carved into the likeness of a griffon's head adorned the doors. With trepidation, Terenon approached the door. He fidgeted with his clothes picking lint off from here and there. The mage squared his shoulders and used the knocker to announce his arrival. 

"Do you think Felespar was lying?" Grundar asked as they waited.

"Without a doubt. We shall have to find another way to locate Lisa's soul. I hope my mother might be able to help..." The mage trailed off and looked into the air above his head.

"What is it?" asked Grundar.

"Scrying sensor," Terenon said simply.

The sensor only remained for a brief time before disappearing. A short time later, the door swung inward. On the other side stood a kobold, clad in the elegant dress of a butler. The scaly humanoid bowed before the two adventurers and gestured for them to enter.

"Madame is waiting in the parlor," the creature said, gesturing with one white-gloved hand. "May I take your coats?"

Grundar seemed a bit surprised to see the kobold greeting them, but Terenon was unconcerned, so the elf followed his friend's lead and offered his coat to the little butler. The kobold lead them through the elegant foyer (complete with crystal chandelier and exquisite, if illusionary, artwork) into a plushly appointed parlor. Within stood a beautiful middle-aged woman with a regal air, clad in a fine dress and no-doubt expensive jewelry.

"Your guests, Madame," said the kobold.

The woman smiled and inclined her head. "Thank you, Gunther, that will be all." As the kobold exited, her smile broadened and she gracefully moves to embrace Terenon. "Adrian! What an unexpected surprise!" She kissed the mage's cheeks, then looked at Grundar. "Who is your handsome young friend?" she asked, looking the elf up and down with an appraising eye, like a wolf looks at a rabbit prior to the kill. "I am Lindsay Thantos, Adrian's mother," she said as she extended a hand toward Grundar. 

Grundar smiled and kissed Lindsay on the hand. "My name is Grundar. You have groomed a fine son, Mrs. Thantos. Tere...um, Adrian has been a valuable companion in our travels." 

Terenon saw his mother pondering the carnal possibilities Grundar represented. Quickly, he spoke up. "Hello, mother, I hope the world has been treating you well. You look as if not a day has passed since I saw you last." He hesitated a bit, then asked, "How is Father?"

Lindsay made a flippant gesture with her hand. "You know your father, never satisfied. Now he's trying his hand at politics, campaigning to be the next mayor of Dagger Falls. I swear, that man won't rest until he surpasses Elminster himself. I'm afraid the Mage of Shadowdale has a few thousand years' head start." She laughed lightly, a breezy sound, then gestured for Grundar and Terenon to have a seat. She in turn lowered herself into a comfortable chair, crossing her legs in a very ladylike manner.

"So tell me about your journeys, Adrian," she said, resting a hand familiarly on Terenon's knee. "How was Silverymoon? Is it as beautiful as they say? And how are your studies coming along? I'm sure by now you're beginning to master the toughest of spells." 

He gave his mother a mischievious smile. "My power grows daily. I am becoming accomplished in a variety of dweomers. Silverymoon is a wonder. It has a polished charm hard to find in the wilderness here. You should make your way there one day." His voice lowered a bit and he looked around to be sure they were alone. "As my power grows, so does the caliber of my enemies. Tell me, have you heard of a mage named Terenon?" 

"Terenon?" asked Lindsay. "The wizard who helped defeat the slaad lord that was bound in some dungeon or another? Yes, word of his exploits have reached this far east already. He is said to be very powerful indeed." A dangerous gleam came into the woman's eyes. "Why? Is he one of these enemies you mentioned? Do you need me to do something about him?" 

"No Mother. I'm Terenon." 

Lindsay blinked a few times, not quite understanding. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm Terenon, mother. I needed to make my own way in the world without being tied to the Thantos name. I wanted to prove to Father...well, that matters little now. A girl I saved, Lisa, has been savagely murdered and her soul taken by a devil. A mage bound that devil to do the deed. It was to serve as a warning. I learned who that mage is.

"You must understand that this girl was my ward, and now her soul burns in hell. The coward could not face me directly. He hides in the shadows and strikes at me with what he thinks is impunity. Thrice he has sent assasins to do his bidding. It is your lover, Helios. He has drawn all of my ire. Would you aid me in my quest for revenge?"

Grundar raised his eyebrow in surprise. Helios was the lover of Terenon's mother? This kept getting more interesting by the moment...

"Helios did all that?" Lindsay asked, clearly taken aback. She shook her head in confusion. "He's not my lover any more...we separated a few years back. That sniveling whelp! I should have known he was bad news from the beginning. What did you do to him that he wants to hurt you so badly? And what can I do to help you?" 

Terenon begins to relay the story about how the group had found out about Acessiwal and his plans for conquest, and the subsequent plea from Lady Alustriel for aid in defeating the wyrm's plans. "Helios works for the white wyrm. I doubt he knows my true lineage. Do you think you could get him here? A rendezvous spot for previous trysts. Grundar and I will take care of the rest. I know it's a great deal to request, but time runs short. You are my best chance to take him and save my friends." 

Lindsay bit her lower lip as she considered Terenon's request. "I can do it. It might take some time though, especially if Acessiwal won't let him away from Coldheart. Can you afford to wait?" 

Terenon shook his head slowly. "No, I can't." He let out a heavy sigh. "I thought maybe you would be able to entice him sooner. I'm sorry to have brought worry to you. I promise I will visit later under better circustances. Grundar and I should meet up with the others now."  

Lindsay squeezed Terenon's leg affectionately. "I am dearly sorry I could not have been of more help. Though if you ever need me, don't hesitate to call on me. You know I'd do anything within my power to help you." 

She embraced her son again, holding him close. "Do take care of yourself, Adrian. I would be devastated if anything untoward ever happened to you. And visit more often! Your old mother gets lonely sometimes."

She again looked at Grundar appreciatively, almost hungrily. "You be sure he stays out of trouble. And feel free to visit whenever you like, as well. A friend of Adrian's is a friend of mine."  

Grundar opened his mouth to say something, but Terenon quickly intervened and began ushering the elf toward the door. "Farewell, mother...send my regards to Father."

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

Rumar stood guard at the entrance to the cave, doing his best to focus more on peering pointlessly out into the snow and less on his overwhelming desire to move completely out of the biting wind. If nothing else, the storm seemed like it was coming to end; he couldn't have that much longer of a wait.

The paladin squinted his eyes to see a little better. He thought he had seen a flash of light nearby, but he couldn't be sure. After a few moments, though, he could see the silhouettes of two figures approaching through the dying storm. His hand went slowly to his hilt, but then the figures became more distinct and recognizable. "They're back," he called flatly to the others in the cave behind him.

"'They?'" asked Aspar, looking at Rumar with some confusion. "Who are 'they?'"

Rhys smiled broadly as Grundar and Terenon passed Rumar and entered the cave, snow clinging to their hair and clothes. "They are our friends," he said cheerfully. "Welcome back. What did you learn?"

After a few quick introductions, Terenon sat down and quickly began to appraise the others of what he had learned. He avoided telling them about the bound ice devil, mainly so Rumar wouldn't go off to try and 'save' it. "You were right Rhys. Helios is the mage behind the golems, Zan, and the death of Lisa." 

Taigiel curled his lip up, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Then the mage will die alongside my father. Coldheart is close now, and the storm has passed. The end draws near."

Galiana grinned and patted the half-dragon on the shoulder. "Death to Acessiwal. We will vanquish the beast or we will die trying." With a mischievous wink, she added, "Although I would prefer the first."


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## Imruphel

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Call me wierd or whatever you like.  I think that was my favorite update in recent memory.
> 
> GW




Well, I may be weird too because that was a ripper!


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## ltclnlbrain

Ick. I didn't save the updates I've made since January 1st of this year. If anybody has copies of these I would greatly appreciate them; the original threads are gone so I can't go back and reconstruct them otherwise.


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## Graywolf-ELM

Bummer, a few of the story hours I read are in this boat.  I would have archived, if I knew you didn't have it saved.

GW


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## EroGaki

Whatever happened to this story hour, anyway? It was getting really good, and then nothing.


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