# Into the Moral Darkness: (Now a Completed Story!)



## Nonlethal Force (Jan 10, 2007)

_Nonlethal Force proudly presents ...​_
* Into the Moral Darkness *​
The continuation of Bitterness Overcome:​*A Story of Rhema, Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion​*
[Sblock=Table of Contents]
Chapter 01: The Changing State of Conjugality ..............  post 1
Chapter 02: Deception Revealed ................................. post 10
Chapter 03: The Infertile Hunt .................................... post 18
Chapter 04: Deception Doubled ................................... post 25
Chapter 05: The Complete Outlandishness of Them All ..... post 35
Chapter 06: A Snare of Their Own ............................... post 42
Chapter 07: The Coming of the Whetting One ............... post 50
Chapter 08: Arum Dracunculus ................................... post 56
Chapter 09: Essential Faculties .................................. post 62
Chapter 10: You Can't Go Back Again .......................... post 71
Chapter 11: Killing the Roots and All ............................ post 77
Chapter 12: Ferreting Out the Wizard's Hound ............... post 83
Chapter 13: Delusive Cessation .................................. post 91
Chapter 14: Promising Respite .................................... post 98
[/Sblock]

[Sblock=Major Characters]
*Rhema* - A manipulator of minds - Rhema speaks in Pale Green
*Ischarus* - A sword wielding arcanist - Ischarus speaks in Light Blue
*Charis* - A tool of the divine - Charis speaks in Orange
*Semeion* - A talented mage - Semeion speaks in Plum

Additionally, speech from minor characters will be in Lime. Speech of the antagonist to the party will be in Red. I hope the use of color makes your reading pleasurable!  If not, there are Sblocks in which the colored speech has been removed.

Special Note of Appreciation:
I would also like to give serious thanks to the ENWorld poster Hunter for the following picture:

_Rhema:_ Dungeoneering At Its Finest as given in this post. 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 10, 2007)

*Chapter One: THE CHANGING STATE OF CONJUGALITY*

It was almost summertime once more in the lands of Enigmatica.  Ischarus knew that it would be time to begin another sequence of journeys into Quehalost as he turned and looked at himself in the mirror.  “Yep, I’ve gained a few pounds over the winter and spring again.  There’s nothing like a good trip into Quehalost to trim you up, though!”  Ischarus laughed as his eyes took in the sight.

He looked different than normal on this particular day.  He wore a new leather jacket and new pants but this was certainly not what made him oddly dressed.  The fact that the pants were fresh from being pressed helped make his appearance a bit on the odd side for him.  Underneath his new leather jacket he had taken the time to button his shirt completely to the top.  This also helped give him an appearance that was different than normal.  Ischarus even wore a new pair of thin leather riding gloves upon his hands.  But even above all the new clothing, what struck Ischarus as odd about himself was the fact that he was staring into a mirror and seeing trimmed and combed hair on the top of his head.

As Semeion stood beside him in matching clothing, he also noticed that Ischarus looked odd today.  Semeion’s eyes were not focused on the clothing or the hairstyle that Ischarus wore, however.  Rather, Semeion’s eyes focused on two large shields that rested at their feet.  The shields were not for actual use since they had no handles with which to hold them.  Rather, these shields had a single leather strap fastened to the top left and bottom right sides of the shield.  These shields were designed to sling over one’s shoulders so that the shield rested properly along one’s back.

Semeion spoke as he lifted one of the shields up and slipped the strap over his shoulder.  His words demonstrated that he was going to ignore Ischarus’ earlier comment about heading into Quehalost soon.  “It was awful nice of Ausaphaborishan to donate two of his scales for the day, even if the scales do kind of remind me of something to make me look a bit like a turtle.”  He smiled as he admired his back in his own mirror.

Ischarus replied with a nod.  “Indeed, you do look a bit like a turtle!”  Ischarus laughed teasingly as he admired the way that the lightly colored dragon scale accented the leather coat.  “I’ll need to remember to complement Charis and Rhema on their ability to match the colors of the leather with that of my dragon father’s scales.  They did an excellent job in designing these clothes for the day.”

Semeion smiled and nodded.  The young mage put his own pair of thin riding gloves on and lifted Ischarus’ shield up from the floor.  “Care to see what yours looks like upon your back, sir?  The time is drawing near, you know.”

As Ischarus looked at the shield in Semeion’s hands he couldn’t help but smile in pride.  The use of a dragon’s scales from the dragon father was a custom in all proper services involving servants of the virtuous dragons.  The scales helped identify the dragon to which each of the servants belongs.

Semeion also looked at the shield.  “I hope the donation of the scales was not a painful process.”

Ischarus smiled and replied.  “While it is good of you to be concerned, the process is relatively pain free.  In the same manner as snakes shed their outer scales, dragons also loose their scales from time to time.  Some of the dragons lose their scales annually while others loose them less frequently.  In any case, new scales are almost constantly growing up from the underside of the current scales.  When they are hard enough and large enough, the old scales are simply sloughed off.  In most communities of Drakontai, the scales are kept and honored among the people for times like these.”

Semeion smiled and hoisted Ischarus’ shield even higher.  “Good to know!  Now I don’t need to feel guilty about the pain caused to Ausaphaborishan so that I could wear it!”

Ischarus looked nervously into the mirror once more before turning so that Semeion could slip the strap over his shoulder.  In spite of Semeion’s conversation, his face revealed that his mind was on other matters.  “You are sure that this is a smart idea, Semeion?  I mean, we’ve known each other for the better part of a year and to be honest there’s no man in this land that I trust with my own life more than you.  But are you absolutely sure that this is the right thing to do?”

Semeion smiled softly towards Ischarus.  He was unaccustomed to this emotional side of the man who usually stepped forward with confidence against the duties of any given day.  As he tried to understand Ischarus’ thoughts, Semeion spoke.  “So, basically what you are telling me is that you can be confident drawing your sword and squaring off against someone who wants you dead.  But when it comes to spending the rest of your life with a woman who’s shown she wants nothing more than to be at your side every day that you are going to be alive you get nervous?”

Ischarus frowned into the mirror.  “I know that it doesn’t make sense, Semeion.”  Ischarus held out his hands in an empty gesture.  “But I can’t help it.  Sword fighting comes natural to me.  Swinging that piece of steel around so that I am protecting the ones I love is easy.  I can put my life in the path of danger time and time again without thinking about it.  But this is different.  This is life changing.  This is something you don’t walk away from.  Even if you want to compare our trips to Quehalost to this, it is different.  We go in, we do our thing, and we walk away!  There’s no walking away from this!”

Semeion shook his head as he chuckled at Ischarus’ oversimplification of their journeys into Quehalost.  “It isn’t like we just walk away, Ischarus.  One day we might not be so lucky.  The land of Quehalost wants us dead every time we go in there.  We might not always walk away.  But you know that Rhema will always want you there.  There won’t be any need to walk away from this in the first place!”

Ischarus looked back in the mirror.  “I know.  I know that you’re right.  She’s a good woman.  So is Charis, by the way.  I guess it’s just different.  I mean, what if we have kids?  Or what if things don’t always go well between us?  What happens if one of us should happen to not come back alive from Quehalost one of these trips?”

Semeion thumped his knuckles hard against the dragon scale that Ischarus wore to protect his back.  “Hello?  Is anyone even willing to think in here?  I think you are over analyzing the situation, don’t you?  Kids can be a blessing.  Every married couple has their share of fights.  And, I doubt marriage will mean that you’ll miss each other any more or less if one of you should happen to die in or out of Quehalost.”

Ischarus sighed deeply and turned to look Semeion in the face.  He looked deep into Semeion’s eyes and smiled.  “So, as the man who is going to stand beside me and vouch for my sanity, you are sure that this is a sane thing to do?”

Semeion laughed out loud and reached an arm around Ischarus.  “Yes.  This is one of the sanest things you could do for your life.  Tomorrow you’ll wake up and life will begin anew.  Trust me on this one, okay?  Besides, couldn’t I ask you the same question?

Ischarus nodded and turned one more time to look in the mirror.  This time he smiled.  “I guess I don’t look too shabby after all.”  Ischarus turned and took several steps to the door.

Semeion coughed and spoke quickly before Ischarus could reach the door.  “Uh, Ischarus?  Don’t forget your sword.  You wouldn’t want to go out there unprepared, after all.”  Semeion grinned broadly at the multi-layered nuances of his comment.  The young mage reached out for Ischarus’ sword and scabbard and held it out for Ischarus to take.

As Ischarus took the sword and scabbard from Semeion he smiled and spoke in a highly sarcastic tone.  “Nice.”  He securely strapped the belt that held his scabbard in place around his waist.  He reached over and lifted Semeion’s scabbard up off of the shelf upon which it rested.  “And your rapier, sir.  I shall not have you unprepared should I be in need of a second!”

The men exchanged a healthy laugh and then gave each other a once over.  Satisfied, they turned to the door that would lead them out of their chamber.  From there it would be a simple walk down the hall and then out into Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  Ischarus felt that it was good to be home in Barghost.  He felt welcome among his people, and he was pleased to bring his friends among them.  It would be a good day.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter One: THE CHANGING STATE OF CONJUGALITY

It was almost summertime once more in the lands of Enigmatica. Ischarus knew that it would be time to begin another sequence of journeys into Quehalost as he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. “Yep, I’ve gained a few pounds over the winter and spring again. There’s nothing like a good trip into Quehalost to trim you up, though!” Ischarus laughed as his eyes took in the sight.

He looked different than normal on this particular day. He wore a new leather jacket and new pants but this was certainly not what made him oddly dressed. The fact that the pants were fresh from being pressed helped make his appearance a bit on the odd side for him. Underneath his new leather jacket he had taken the time to button his shirt completely to the top. This also helped give him an appearance that was different than normal. Ischarus even wore a new pair of thin leather riding gloves upon his hands. But even above all the new clothing, what struck Ischarus as odd about himself was the fact that he was staring into a mirror and seeing trimmed and combed hair on the top of his head.

As Semeion stood beside him in matching clothing, he also noticed that Ischarus looked odd today. Semeion’s eyes were not focused on the clothing or the hairstyle that Ischarus wore, however. Rather, Semeion’s eyes focused on two large shields that rested at their feet. The shields were not for actual use since they had no handles with which to hold them. Rather, these shields had a single leather strap fastened to the top left and bottom right sides of the shield. These shields were designed to sling over one’s shoulders so that the shield rested properly along one’s back.

Semeion spoke as he lifted one of the shields up and slipped the strap over his shoulder. His words demonstrated that he was going to ignore Ischarus’ earlier comment about heading into Quehalost soon. “It was awful nice of Ausaphaborishan to donate two of his scales for the day, even if the scales do kind of remind me of something to make me look a bit like a turtle.” He smiled as he admired his back in his own mirror.

Ischarus replied with a nod. “Indeed, you do look a bit like a turtle!” Ischarus laughed teasingly as he admired the way that the lightly colored dragon scale accented the leather coat. “I’ll need to remember to complement Charis and Rhema on their ability to match the colors of the leather with that of my dragon father’s scales. They did an excellent job in designing these clothes for the day.”

Semeion smiled and nodded. The young mage put his own pair of thin riding gloves on and lifted Ischarus’ shield up from the floor. “Care to see what yours looks like upon your back, sir? The time is drawing near, you know.”

As Ischarus looked at the shield in Semeion’s hands he couldn’t help but smile in pride. The use of a dragon’s scales from the dragon father was a custom in all proper services involving servants of the virtuous dragons. The scales helped identify the dragon to which each of the servants belongs.

Semeion also looked at the shield. “I hope the donation of the scales was not a painful process.”

Ischarus smiled and replied. “While it is good of you to be concerned, the process is relatively pain free. In the same manner as snakes shed their outer scales, dragons also loose their scales from time to time. Some of the dragons lose their scales annually while others loose them less frequently. In any case, new scales are almost constantly growing up from the underside of the current scales. When they are hard enough and large enough, the old scales are simply sloughed off. In most communities of Drakontai, the scales are kept and honored among the people for times like these.”

Semeion smiled and hoisted Ischarus’ shield even higher. “Good to know! Now I don’t need to feel guilty about the pain caused to Ausaphaborishan so that I could wear it!”

Ischarus looked nervously into the mirror once more before turning so that Semeion could slip the strap over his shoulder. In spite of Semeion’s conversation, his face revealed that his mind was on other matters. “You are sure that this is a smart idea, Semeion? I mean, we’ve known each other for the better part of a year and to be honest there’s no man in this land that I trust with my own life more than you. But are you absolutely sure that this is the right thing to do?”

Semeion smiled softly towards Ischarus. He was unaccustomed to this emotional side of the man who usually stepped forward with confidence against the duties of any given day. As he tried to understand Ischarus’ thoughts, Semeion spoke. “So, basically what you are telling me is that you can be confident drawing your sword and squaring off against someone who wants you dead. But when it comes to spending the rest of your life with a woman who’s shown she wants nothing more than to be at your side every day that you are going to be alive you get nervous?”

Ischarus frowned into the mirror. “I know that it doesn’t make sense, Semeion.” Ischarus held out his hands in an empty gesture. “But I can’t help it. Sword fighting comes natural to me. Swinging that piece of steel around so that I am protecting the ones I love is easy. I can put my life in the path of danger time and time again without thinking about it. But this is different. This is life changing. This is something you don’t walk away from. Even if you want to compare our trips to Quehalost to this, it is different. We go in, we do our thing, and we walk away! There’s no walking away from this!”

Semeion shook his head as he chuckled at Ischarus’ oversimplification of their journeys into Quehalost. “It isn’t like we just walk away, Ischarus. One day we might not be so lucky. The land of Quehalost wants us dead every time we go in there. We might not always walk away. But you know that Rhema will always want you there. There won’t be any need to walk away from this in the first place!”

Ischarus looked back in the mirror. “I know. I know that you’re right. She’s a good woman. So is Charis, by the way. I guess it’s just different. I mean, what if we have kids? Or what if things don’t always go well between us? What happens if one of us should happen to not come back alive from Quehalost one of these trips?”

Semeion thumped his knuckles hard against the dragon scale that Ischarus wore to protect his back. “Hello? Is anyone even willing to think in here? I think you are over analyzing the situation, don’t you? Kids can be a blessing. Every married couple has their share of fights. And, I doubt marriage will mean that you’ll miss each other any more or less if one of you should happen to die in or out of Quehalost.”

Ischarus sighed deeply and turned to look Semeion in the face. He looked deep into Semeion’s eyes and smiled. “So, as the man who is going to stand beside me and vouch for my sanity, you are sure that this is a sane thing to do?”

Semeion laughed out loud and reached an arm around Ischarus. “Yes. This is one of the sanest things you could do for your life. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and life will begin anew. Trust me on this one, okay? Besides, couldn’t I ask you the same question?

Ischarus nodded and turned one more time to look in the mirror. This time he smiled. “I guess I don’t look too shabby after all.” Ischarus turned and took several steps to the door.

Semeion coughed and spoke quickly before Ischarus could reach the door. “Uh, Ischarus? Don’t forget your sword. You wouldn’t want to go out there unprepared, after all.” Semeion grinned broadly at the multi-layered nuances of his comment. The young mage reached out for Ischarus’ sword and scabbard and held it out for Ischarus to take.

As Ischarus took the sword and scabbard from Semeion he smiled and spoke in a highly sarcastic tone. “Nice.” He securely strapped the belt that held his scabbard in place around his waist. He reached over and lifted Semeion’s scabbard up off of the shelf upon which it rested. “And your rapier, sir. I shall not have you unprepared should I be in need of a second!”

The men exchanged a healthy laugh and then gave each other a once over. Satisfied, they turned to the door that would lead them out of their chamber. From there it would be a simple walk down the hall and then out into Ausaphaborishan’s valley. Ischarus felt that it was good to be home in Barghost. He felt welcome among his people, and he was pleased to bring his friends among them. It would be a good day.
[/Sblock]


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## Mahtave (Jan 11, 2007)

Excellent start Nonlethal!  Anxiously waiting for more!


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 12, 2007)

*Not An Update ... Reply to Reader*

Thanks, Mahtave!  

I'm glad that you (and any of the other readers) transitioned over to this new story.  I'm hoping that this story will be a bit less straightforward as the last story.  There is nothing wrong with _"party goes in, kicks butt, wins in the end."_  In fact, as a Story Hour designed to introduce the characters I think it works out best that way so that the personalities of the characters become familiar and dependable (like a soft blanket or a pair of good shoes).  But with this Story Hour I hope to introduce a few different elements.  I hope that every once a while after reading a post my readers sit back and say, _"Huh, that I didn't expect."_  Not always, of course.  But more often than in Bitterness Overcome.  That will mean that if I can accomplish it successfully the characters will still be dependable but the plot elements might hit them as unexpected as much as it hits the reader.  We'll see!


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 12, 2007)

Across Ausaphaborishan’s valley there was another gathering of quite a different flavor.  This room was not quiet like the room containing only Ischarus and Semeion.  Two women sat on tall stools while nearly a dozen other women danced around the room moving from the central women to various bags and counters along the walls.  The women who were moving among one another and approaching the two central women all looked as though they belonged to the same family.  They shared the same hint of flecks as Ischarus that looked of liquid mercury within their eyes.  They all shared the same faint silver highlight to their dark hair as Ischarus did.  Their actual face shapes were different, but their similar draconic lineage was easily observed.

The two central women were dressed identically to one another and neither of them seemed to particularly mind the primping and other attention that they were receiving.  Neither of the women shared the draconic heritage with hints of mercury and silver, although the woman on the left had her own heritage markings of red.  Each of these women were in various states of having their hair braided, their nails trimmed and polished, their faces powdered with make-up, and their bodies fitted with various types of undergarments.  In many respects they appeared as though they were mannequins in a state of half-preparedness.  Each of the women held their hands away from their bodies and kept their fingers spread wide while the white dye dried upon their nails.

Charis spoke first as she looked down upon the nails of her left hand.  “If you would have told me that I would be doing this a year ago I would have kicked and screamed the whole way!  In fact, if you would have told me a year ago that I was going to happily find a new dragon father and I’d have not believed it.  I’d have not even wanted it!  I was too busy trying to make life endurable for my people that I’d have completely passed on this opportunity if given the chance.”

Rhema turned her head to look at Charis’ nails as they dried.  She shifted her own right hand over so that it was beside the fingers of Charis’ left hand.  Once she saw how similar the dye made the nails appear, Rhema spoke.  “Yet, here you are.  And you did come kicking and screaming.  But look at all that you have given to your people.  They have a new dragon father and have grown tremendously upon arriving here in Barghost.  Your people have begun to overcome their fears.  They’ve begun to be able to take responsibility without the fear of enslavement.  They’ve become productive and educated, Charis.  All of this is true because you came kicking and screaming from Quehalost just a bit less than a year ago.”

Charis smiled at Rhema’s thought.  She tilted her head back and looked up to where the wall met the ceiling.  “And now Ausaphaborishan’s people gather to honor us.  They gather to give to us what hospitality they can.  I’m not sure there could be a better way to do this, Rhema.  I’m glad you and Ischarus were able to work out the details to make this happen here at Ausaphaborishan’s valley.”

The women who were dancing around Charis and Rhema smiled at each other as they worked fervently.  The eldest of the women approached Charis and Rhema and looked closely at how quickly the dye was absorbing into the nails and drying.  She smiled as though she was satisfied with the result and quickly turned around.  She lifted both of her hands up into the air and clapped quickly.

As the two quick beats of clapping snapped through the room all of the women stopped and turned.  Charis and Rhema even gave this woman their full attention.  Every woman in the room had a hopeful smile upon their face as the eldest woman spoke.  “The dye is dry, ladies.  The time has come to finish this production.  We’ll begin with the dresses and apply the gloves.  Then we’ll finish the facial coloring.  Once the faces have been appropriately colored we’ll finish the braiding and then secure the proper headdresses.  We’ve less than an hour, people.  Let’s not take too long; and we’ll have no mistakes on my shift!”

The women who were in the role of service did not bother to respond.  Instead, each of the women gathered up their long skirts so that they lifted another inch off of the floor.  If they were to hurry, the shortened skirts would keep them from tripping.  Six of the women moved to the wall directly behind Charis and Rhema.  Two women each approached a pair of full length cabinets and opened the strong oak doors on each cabinet.  The cabinets were not deep, but they were deep enough to allow a single dress to be hung within its walls.  Another pair of women reached into each cabinet and lifted the dresses from where they had been hung.  The remaining women gathered up the fabric to prevent it from sliding across the floor.

The dresses were terrifically ornate.  Rhema and Charis each gasped when they saw the dresses for the first time.  Each dress had been made to precisely fit each of the two women.  Yet what made the dresses truly remarkable was the shimmering of the dress when it caught the light.  It was clear that several of Ausaphaborishan’s scales had been used and cut into pieces roughly the size of a thumb-print.  Each of these smaller pieces had been delicately woven into the fabric of the dress so that the dress appeared to have scales in the same pattern as Ausaphaborishan himself.  When the dresses did not catch the light they looked as though they were made of liquid mercury.  When the dresses caught the light they glinted as though they were fashioned from milky white pearls and shimmered with light blue and green sparkles.

The six women split up into two groups of three and helped Charis and Rhema into their dresses.  The dresses opened from the backside and thus each of the eye hooks had to be secured from shoulder to the floor.  Considering that there was an eyehook at least every inch, there was plenty of reason to need three women apiece for each dress.  In each team, one woman was in charge of ensuring that the dress hung sharply from the shoulders while the other two women made sure that the eyehooks were fastened appropriately.  In a matter of minutes Charis and Rhema were beautifully adorned in the dresses.  The dresses were so perfectly fitted that they appeared to give the impression that the scales actually belonged to the respective body of each of the women.

A pair of women brought the gloves over to Charis and Rhema.  The gloves were equally as impressively designed as the dresses.  Similar cut draconic scales had been woven into the fabric of the glove covering the back of the hand and the backs of the fingers.  The ends of each of the fingers had a small slit intentionally cut into the gloves.  As Charis and Rhema placed their fingers into the gloves they realized that as their white dyed nails slipped through the slits in the end of the gloves their nails appeared to be claws.  The scaled backs of the glove completed the draconic appearance of the hand.  

As ornate as the outside of the glove was, the underside of each glove was made of a thin fabric that would allow Charis and Rhema the ability to feel with the tips of their fingers and their palms.  Each of the women smiled with an odd look of pleasure as they opened and closed their hands and felt the draconic scales adjust across the back of their hands and fingers.  The sensation was unusual but quite pleasurable.

The elderly woman approached once Charis and Rhema were completely dressed.  She addressed the two women and snapped them out of their admiration of the gloves.  “If you will please stand still, our artists will finish painting your faces.  I’ll ask that you close your eyes for this stage.  We wouldn’t want any paint to find its way into your eye and cause you to tear.  If you cry now, you run the risk of destroying the paint.”

Charis wrinkled her eyebrow.  “You mean we can’t cry until we’re done with the day?”

For the first time all day, the elderly woman gave a hint of smile upon her face.  The other women in the room snickered behind Charis and Rhema.  The elderly woman gave an honest and amused answer.  “No.  The paint will dry hard and fast in about ten minutes.  If you can keep from crying until then you will be fine.  Once the pain is dried, there is little besides scraping it off that will remove it, trust me.”

Two other women approached Charis and Rhema.  These were the women who had put the base coat of paint upon Charis and Rhema much earlier in the day.  Charis and Rhema each closed their eyes while the face painters worked their magic.  When the women were done they had given shadow and life to the base coat applied earlier.  Each of the women had been painted as if to appear to have scales across their foreheads, down their cheeks, across their nose, and under their chin.

The elderly woman spoke to the gathering in the room once more.  “We’re almost done, ladies.  You may open your eyes.  Braiding matrons, work your magic!”

Two more women stepped forward with an assistant each.  Earlier in the day both Charis and Rhema had their hair treated, lightly dyed, and a braid had begun to be woven through their hair.  Now the braiding matrons continued their work and finished the task.  The hair dye had set and this allowed the braids to be turned and twisted to give the impression of greater contour within the hair.  In only a matter of minutes the matrons and their assistants stepped back.  The smiles upon their faces displayed that they were content with their work.

The final two women in the room stepped forward and began to work the headdresses within the finished braids.  By this time, Rhema and Charis had been expecting a sort of veil made from dragon scales.  However, these women approached with flowers on small stems to be inserted into the braided hair.  When the headdresses were completed, both Rhema’s and Charis’ head was filled with small buds and blooms from the flowers naturally growing in Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  The colors had been chosen to match the glimmering of the dresses perfectly.

Now that the women were properly prepared for the service to come, the eldest woman brought forth two mirrors.  These were the only mirrors in the room, so this would be the first time that Charis and Rhema were to see themselves as a finished beauty.  The elderly woman softly touched each of Rhema’s and Charis’ face and smiled.  As she handed them each a mirror the elderly woman spoke.  “Your face painting has dried.  You are free to laugh, smile, or even cry.”

Charis couldn’t help but smile at the comment about crying.  Several of the women who had been pampering them throughout the day also chuckled from behind.  As she looked at herself in the mirror she gasped in shock.  Charis quickly turned to Rhema and then looked back into the mirror.  “We’ve been painted differently!”

Rhema smiled.  “Yes, it is my surprise for you on this day.  I have been painted to match the coloration of the people and Ischarus’ dragon father.  Your painting is a special blend that has never been done before.  Your face reflects all three of the dragon father’s who have impacted your life.  The majority of your color matches that which has been done to me in honor of Ausaphaborishan.  But you have been given accents of Llywessiar’s color and even the color of your original heritage.  You need not ever deny who you are and where you came from, Charis.  You are accepted by these Drakontai and by Llywessiar’s Drakontai as you are.  It is our gift to you.”

It was a god thing that the paint had been given time to dry.  As Charis took in Rhema’s words and looked into the mirror at the masterpiece that had been drawn upon her face, she couldn’t help but cry.  This day would be a beautiful day.  She knew that the time was almost upon them.  Rhema smiled upon Charis knowing that her surprise was worth the wait.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Across Ausaphaborishan’s valley there was another gathering of quite a different flavor. This room was not quiet like the room containing only Ischarus and Semeion. Two women sat on tall stools while nearly a dozen other women danced around the room moving from the central women to various bags and counters along the walls. The women who were moving among one another and approaching the two central women all looked as though they belonged to the same family. They shared the same hint of flecks as Ischarus that looked of liquid mercury within their eyes. They all shared the same faint silver highlight to their dark hair as Ischarus did. Their actual face shapes were different, but their similar draconic lineage was easily observed.

The two central women were dressed identically to one another and neither of them seemed to particularly mind the primping and other attention that they were receiving. Neither of the women shared the draconic heritage with hints of mercury and silver, although the woman on the left had her own heritage markings of red. Each of these women were in various states of having their hair braided, their nails trimmed and polished, their faces powdered with make-up, and their bodies fitted with various types of undergarments. In many respects they appeared as though they were mannequins in a state of half-preparedness. Each of the women held their hands away from their bodies and kept their fingers spread wide while the white dye dried upon their nails.

Charis spoke first as she looked down upon the nails of her left hand. “If you would have told me that I would be doing this a year ago I would have kicked and screamed the whole way! In fact, if you would have told me a year ago that I was going to happily find a new dragon father and I’d have not believed it. I’d have not even wanted it! I was too busy trying to make life endurable for my people that I’d have completely passed on this opportunity if given the chance.”

Rhema turned her head to look at Charis’ nails as they dried. She shifted her own right hand over so that it was beside the fingers of Charis’ left hand. Once she saw how similar the dye made the nails appear, Rhema spoke. “Yet, here you are. And you did come kicking and screaming. But look at all that you have given to your people. They have a new dragon father and have grown tremendously upon arriving here in Barghost. Your people have begun to overcome their fears. They’ve begun to be able to take responsibility without the fear of enslavement. They’ve become productive and educated, Charis. All of this is true because you came kicking and screaming from Quehalost just a bit less than a year ago.”

Charis smiled at Rhema’s thought. She tilted her head back and looked up to where the wall met the ceiling. “And now Ausaphaborishan’s people gather to honor us. They gather to give to us what hospitality they can. I’m not sure there could be a better way to do this, Rhema. I’m glad you and Ischarus were able to work out the details to make this happen here at Ausaphaborishan’s valley.”

The women who were dancing around Charis and Rhema smiled at each other as they worked fervently. The eldest of the women approached Charis and Rhema and looked closely at how quickly the dye was absorbing into the nails and drying. She smiled as though she was satisfied with the result and quickly turned around. She lifted both of her hands up into the air and clapped quickly.

As the two quick beats of clapping snapped through the room all of the women stopped and turned. Charis and Rhema even gave this woman their full attention. Every woman in the room had a hopeful smile upon their face as the eldest woman spoke. “The dye is dry, ladies. The time has come to finish this production. We’ll begin with the dresses and apply the gloves. Then we’ll finish the facial coloring. Once the faces have been appropriately colored we’ll finish the braiding and then secure the proper headdresses. We’ve less than an hour, people. Let’s not take too long; and we’ll have no mistakes on my shift!”

The women who were in the role of service did not bother to respond. Instead, each of the women gathered up their long skirts so that they lifted another inch off of the floor. If they were to hurry, the shortened skirts would keep them from tripping. Six of the women moved to the wall directly behind Charis and Rhema. Two women each approached a pair of full length cabinets and opened the strong oak doors on each cabinet. The cabinets were not deep, but they were deep enough to allow a single dress to be hung within its walls. Another pair of women reached into each cabinet and lifted the dresses from where they had been hung. The remaining women gathered up the fabric to prevent it from sliding across the floor.

The dresses were terrifically ornate. Rhema and Charis each gasped when they saw the dresses for the first time. Each dress had been made to precisely fit each of the two women. Yet what made the dresses truly remarkable was the shimmering of the dress when it caught the light. It was clear that several of Ausaphaborishan’s scales had been used and cut into pieces roughly the size of a thumb-print. Each of these smaller pieces had been delicately woven into the fabric of the dress so that the dress appeared to have scales in the same pattern as Ausaphaborishan himself. When the dresses did not catch the light they looked as though they were made of liquid mercury. When the dresses caught the light they glinted as though they were fashioned from milky white pearls and shimmered with light blue and green sparkles.

The six women split up into two groups of three and helped Charis and Rhema into their dresses. The dresses opened from the backside and thus each of the eye hooks had to be secured from shoulder to the floor. Considering that there was an eyehook at least every inch, there was plenty of reason to need three women apiece for each dress. In each team, one woman was in charge of ensuring that the dress hung sharply from the shoulders while the other two women made sure that the eyehooks were fastened appropriately. In a matter of minutes Charis and Rhema were beautifully adorned in the dresses. The dresses were so perfectly fitted that they appeared to give the impression that the scales actually belonged to the respective body of each of the women.

A pair of women brought the gloves over to Charis and Rhema. The gloves were equally as impressively designed as the dresses. Similar cut draconic scales had been woven into the fabric of the glove covering the back of the hand and the backs of the fingers. The ends of each of the fingers had a small slit intentionally cut into the gloves. As Charis and Rhema placed their fingers into the gloves they realized that as their white dyed nails slipped through the slits in the end of the gloves their nails appeared to be claws. The scaled backs of the glove completed the draconic appearance of the hand. 

As ornate as the outside of the glove was, the underside of each glove was made of a thin fabric that would allow Charis and Rhema the ability to feel with the tips of their fingers and their palms. Each of the women smiled with an odd look of pleasure as they opened and closed their hands and felt the draconic scales adjust across the back of their hands and fingers. The sensation was unusual but quite pleasurable.

The elderly woman approached once Charis and Rhema were completely dressed. She addressed the two women and snapped them out of their admiration of the gloves. “If you will please stand still, our artists will finish painting your faces. I’ll ask that you close your eyes for this stage. We wouldn’t want any paint to find its way into your eye and cause you to tear. If you cry now, you run the risk of destroying the paint.”

Charis wrinkled her eyebrow. “You mean we can’t cry until we’re done with the day?”

For the first time all day, the elderly woman gave a hint of smile upon her face. The other women in the room snickered behind Charis and Rhema. The elderly woman gave an honest and amused answer. “No. The paint will dry hard and fast in about ten minutes. If you can keep from crying until then you will be fine. Once the pain is dried, there is little besides scraping it off that will remove it, trust me.”

Two other women approached Charis and Rhema. These were the women who had put the base coat of paint upon Charis and Rhema much earlier in the day. Charis and Rhema each closed their eyes while the face painters worked their magic. When the women were done they had given shadow and life to the base coat applied earlier. Each of the women had been painted as if to appear to have scales across their foreheads, down their cheeks, across their nose, and under their chin.

The elderly woman spoke to the gathering in the room once more. “We’re almost done, ladies. You may open your eyes. Braiding matrons, work your magic!”

Two more women stepped forward with an assistant each. Earlier in the day both Charis and Rhema had their hair treated, lightly dyed, and a braid had begun to be woven through their hair. Now the braiding matrons continued their work and finished the task. The hair dye had set and this allowed the braids to be turned and twisted to give the impression of greater contour within the hair. In only a matter of minutes the matrons and their assistants stepped back. The smiles upon their faces displayed that they were content with their work.

The final two women in the room stepped forward and began to work the headdresses within the finished braids. By this time, Rhema and Charis had been expecting a sort of veil made from dragon scales. However, these women approached with flowers on small stems to be inserted into the braided hair. When the headdresses were completed, both Rhema’s and Charis’ head was filled with small buds and blooms from the flowers naturally growing in Ausaphaborishan’s valley. The colors had been chosen to match the glimmering of the dresses perfectly.

Now that the women were properly prepared for the service to come, the eldest woman brought forth two mirrors. These were the only mirrors in the room, so this would be the first time that Charis and Rhema were to see themselves as a finished beauty. The elderly woman softly touched each of Rhema’s and Charis’ face and smiled. As she handed them each a mirror the elderly woman spoke. “Your face painting has dried. You are free to laugh, smile, or even cry.”

Charis couldn’t help but smile at the comment about crying. Several of the women who had been pampering them throughout the day also chuckled from behind. As she looked at herself in the mirror she gasped in shock. Charis quickly turned to Rhema and then looked back into the mirror. “We’ve been painted differently!”

Rhema smiled. “Yes, it is my surprise for you on this day. I have been painted to match the coloration of the people and Ischarus’ dragon father. Your painting is a special blend that has never been done before. Your face reflects all three of the dragon father’s who have impacted your life. The majority of your color matches that which has been done to me in honor of Ausaphaborishan. But you have been given accents of Llywessiar’s color and even the color of your original heritage. You need not ever deny who you are and where you came from, Charis. You are accepted by these Drakontai and by Llywessiar’s Drakontai as you are. It is our gift to you.”

It was a god thing that the paint had been given time to dry. As Charis took in Rhema’s words and looked into the mirror at the masterpiece that had been drawn upon her face, she couldn’t help but cry. This day would be a beautiful day. She knew that the time was almost upon them. Rhema smiled upon Charis knowing that her surprise was worth the wait.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 16, 2007)

As Charis and Rhema approached the northern most edge of the valley from the south, a strange hiss echoed across the valley.  The sound was remarkably reminiscent to that of a hissing crocodile, except that the sound was considerably louder.  The sound was loud enough to echo back and forth across the stone faces of the surrounding peaks.  No sooner had the sound begun than a second hissing sound joined with the first.  The two hisses were clearly separate sounds from separate sources; but they were distinctly related.

Rhema looked slightly confused as she glanced toward Charis at the sudden appearance of the sound.  “That sounds rather ominous.  Is this part of the celebration?”

Charis returned the confused glance with one of her one.  Her lips pursed tightly as she thought for a moment before speaking.  “I know that sound.  I have heard that sound once a year every year of my life that I can remember.  It is the mating hiss of a dragon.”

Rhema stopped her walk as she absorbed Charis’ words and replied.  “But, then why are there two distinct calls?”  A slight look of concern passed over Rhema’s face as she assumed the worst.  “What are the odds that a mate for Ausaphoborishan would come on this day?”

Charis smiled broadly as her mind raced to an opposite conclusion.  She laughed at Rhema’s conclusion and walked toward the north end of the valley as quickly as her elaborate dress would allow.  Her attendants struggled to keep pace with her while ensuring that the dress kept completely off of the ground.  “Your lack of dragon knowledge betrays you, Rhema.  Those aren’t the hissing calls of a mating pair of dragons.  Those are both male mating calls.  I’ve heard the same type of calls from my original dragon father back in Quehalost.”

Rhema called out as she tried to catch up to Charis’ quick approach toward the north.  “But, why two males?  Certainly two males wouldn’t be trying to call the same mate!”

The women turned the final corner which had been preventing them from observing the north face of the valley.  Charis’ jaw opened wide in surprise as she stopped and stared at the sight before her.  Instead of seeing Ausaphaborishan standing at the head of the valley as she expected, both women looked on as two large wyrms were present.  Both Ausaphaborishan and Llywessiar flanked the north face of the valley.  Each of the male dragons emitted the loud mating hiss that could be heard across the valley.

Charis couldn’t believe her eyes.  “But, how is this possible?  The new dragon father of my people left his valley to come here?”  Her mind struggled to put an explanation together.

Rhema’s gaze dropped from Llywessiar’s head down to the feet of each of the dragons.  Standing around the great wyrms was an odd mix of people.  The people stood expectantly and turned around as both Llywessiar’s and Ausaphaborishan’s hiss announced the arrival of the two women.

As Rhema and Charis looked upon the dragons, Ausaphaborishan stood to the right.  Ausaphaborishan’s Drakontai stood around him in a quarter circle extending from the right of their dragon father to a place exactly between the women and the great wyrm.  Each of the people within this quarter circle carried the heritage highlights and eye flecks of their dragon father.

Llywessiar was the left dragon as Rhema and Charis looked on.  Another group of Drakontai stood awaiting the women in the shape of a quarter circle that was the mirror image of the circle made up by the Drakontai of Ausaphaborishan.  This circle extended from the left of Llywessiar to the place where Auasphaborishan’s people stood.  The Drakontai standing around Llywessiar were mixed between Llywessair’s natural clan and Charis’ people from the land of Quehalost.  

Essentially this meant that at this moment Ausaphaborishan’s valley contained the equivalent of three Drakontai clans.  Each of the clans had risen from being seated upon the ground and were focused completely upon the women as they approached.  Rhema reached up and lightly touched the side of Charis’ face.  “Look down, Charis.  Take your eyes off of the dragons and look to the ground.”

Charis’ eyes dropped to the ground beneath the great dragons.  Her eyes grew wide in surprise as she observed all of the people.  “The people, too?  My people have come?”  Once more tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

Rhema smiled and clasped Charis left hand with her right.  “Did you expect Llywessiar to miss the opportunity to give one of his daughters away in marriage?”

Charis couldn’t help but allow a radiant smile beam from her face as tears openly flowed down her cheeks.  “Well, I didn’t really expect him to devote the resources to bringing himself and his tribe to this occasion, either!  After all, I’m not naturally his daughter.”

Rhema spotted three men standing in between the two massive wyrms.  She easily recognized Ischarus and Semeion.  Semeion stood below and slightly to the right of Llywessiar while Ischarus stood below and slightly to the left of Ausaphaborishan.  She could tell by the expressions on the face of each of these men that they were in awe of the way that Rhema and Charis had been prepared for the service.  They had not been ready for the beauty and the effects that the draconic themed dresses would have upon them.

The man who was standing in the center between Ischarus and Semeion gave Rhema a bit more of a difficulty in identification.  Suddenly the man looked up toward Llywessiar and she caught sight of his own draconic markings.  It was Brandt who stood between Ischarus and Semeion.

Charis spoke about the same time as Rhema made the identification of Brandt.  “I suppose we should be heading towards that gathering, Rhema.  They’ll be a bit disappointed if we turn around now.”

Rhema smiled and nodded.  She stepped first with her right foot and Charis joined her.  Together the two women walked stride for stride towards the people.  When they had reached the place where the two quarter circles of Drakontai came together, the people parted and allowed them to pass through and into the circle.  The women who had been serving both Rhema and Charis in the room of preparation filed into the ranks of the Drakontai who stood around Ausaphaborishan.

As the two women approached the inner heart of the circle, the wyrms increased the level of their hissing.  Brandt leaned forward and spoke loudly into Ischarus’ and Semeion’s ear.  “The hissing is a ceremonial act.  It is said that no evil spirit can stand to be in the presence of a hiss from a virtuous dragon.  Of course, this is only a legend.  But you know superstition and tradition!”

Semeion smiled.  Given the line of work that these four adventurers engaged themselves in, he would take all the superstitious wards that he could get his hands on.  If enduring the loud hiss of a dragon would give them any luck at all - even if it was only imagined luck – he would take it.  In a world where magical charms and telepathic powers had as much reality as the sword at Ischarus’ side there could be no telling how the hiss of a virtuous dragon would affect their lives.

Ischarus fidgeted nervously with his clothing as he watched the women come forward.  His fingers adjusted the angle at which his sword and scabbard hung from his belt.  Once they had adjusted the sword they slightly adjusted the positioning of the strap holding the dragon scale across his back.

Semeion reached over and lightly placed his hand upon Ischarus’ shoulder.  “You don’t need to worry, Ischarus.  I’ll be here for you the whole way.  Charis will be here for you the whole way.  And probably most importantly, Rhema is going to be here for you the whole way.  Relax and enjoy the moment.”

Ischarus brought his fingers in on his palms.  He could feel the dampness from the sweat soaking into the underside of the glove.  “Relax.  Those are easy words for you to say.”  A smile passed over his face as he mentally tried to focus on the approaching women and not fidgeting.

When the half circle of Drakontai broke to allow the women through, Brandt watched from behind as both Ischarus and Semeion drew in a substantial breath.  Their shoulders rose in unison, although Ischarus held his breath considerably longer.  When it looked as though Ischarus had forgotten to exhale, Brandt leaned forward slightly to whisper into their ears once again.  A devilish grin crossed his lips and a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes.  “One word and we can all be out of here, you know.  We could leave, just the three of us.  This is your last chance.”

The comment caught Ischarus completely by surprise.  He coughed, expelling a fair amount of the air that he had been holding within his lungs.  Brandt’s words had the desired effect, and he straightened himself back to his full height.  The grin remained on his face.

Semeion chuckled a bit and turned his head ever so slightly.  “Don’t tempt him, Brandt.  And if you did use your magic to take us to Tongra again, you know you’d have two angry women hunting you down.”

Ischarus smiled at the thought as the women drew even closer to them.  Brandt spoke so softly that his lips didn’t even need to move.  “Well, perhaps not, then.  I wouldn’t want their fury after me.”

The women approached the men until they were within an arm’s reach.  Semeion reached out and took both of Charis’ hands in his.  Ischarus also reached out and took both of Rhema’s hands in his own.  The gathered community of Drakontai cheered and clapped as the couples finally came together.

Brandt leaned forward.  He noticed that the responsibility of the coming service had finally set in on each of them.  All four of the faces before them had gone a touch on the pale side.  Of course, Brandt knew that this was quite natural.  He spoke softly enough so that only the two couples before him could hear.  “Are you all ready to begin another adventure?”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
As Charis and Rhema approached the northern most edge of the valley from the south, a strange hiss echoed across the valley. The sound was remarkably reminiscent to that of a hissing crocodile, except that the sound was considerably louder. The sound was loud enough to echo back and forth across the stone faces of the surrounding peaks. No sooner had the sound begun than a second hissing sound joined with the first. The two hisses were clearly separate sounds from separate sources; but they were distinctly related.

Rhema looked slightly confused as she glanced toward Charis at the sudden appearance of the sound. “That sounds rather ominous. Is this part of the celebration?”

Charis returned the confused glance with one of her one. Her lips pursed tightly as she thought for a moment before speaking. “I know that sound. I have heard that sound once a year every year of my life that I can remember. It is the mating hiss of a dragon.”

Rhema stopped her walk as she absorbed Charis’ words and replied. “But, then why are there two distinct calls?” A slight look of concern passed over Rhema’s face as she assumed the worst. “What are the odds that a mate for Ausaphoborishan would come on this day?”

Charis smiled broadly as her mind raced to an opposite conclusion. She laughed at Rhema’s conclusion and walked toward the north end of the valley as quickly as her elaborate dress would allow. Her attendants struggled to keep pace with her while ensuring that the dress kept completely off of the ground. “Your lack of dragon knowledge betrays you, Rhema. Those aren’t the hissing calls of a mating pair of dragons. Those are both male mating calls. I’ve heard the same type of calls from my original dragon father back in Quehalost.”

Rhema called out as she tried to catch up to Charis’ quick approach toward the north. “But, why two males? Certainly two males wouldn’t be trying to call the same mate!”

The women turned the final corner which had been preventing them from observing the north face of the valley. Charis’ jaw opened wide in surprise as she stopped and stared at the sight before her. Instead of seeing Ausaphaborishan standing at the head of the valley as she expected, both women looked on as two large wyrms were present. Both Ausaphaborishan and Llywessiar flanked the north face of the valley. Each of the male dragons emitted the loud mating hiss that could be heard across the valley.

Charis couldn’t believe her eyes. “But, how is this possible? The new dragon father of my people left his valley to come here?” Her mind struggled to put an explanation together.

Rhema’s gaze dropped from Llywessiar’s head down to the feet of each of the dragons. Standing around the great wyrms was an odd mix of people. The people stood expectantly and turned around as both Llywessiar’s and Ausaphaborishan’s hiss announced the arrival of the two women.

As Rhema and Charis looked upon the dragons, Ausaphaborishan stood to the right. Ausaphaborishan’s Drakontai stood around him in a quarter circle extending from the right of their dragon father to a place exactly between the women and the great wyrm. Each of the people within this quarter circle carried the heritage highlights and eye flecks of their dragon father.

Llywessiar was the left dragon as Rhema and Charis looked on. Another group of Drakontai stood awaiting the women in the shape of a quarter circle that was the mirror image of the circle made up by the Drakontai of Ausaphaborishan. This circle extended from the left of Llywessiar to the place where Auasphaborishan’s people stood. The Drakontai standing around Llywessiar were mixed between Llywessair’s natural clan and Charis’ people from the land of Quehalost. 

Essentially this meant that at this moment Ausaphaborishan’s valley contained the equivalent of three Drakontai clans. Each of the clans had risen from being seated upon the ground and were focused completely upon the women as they approached. Rhema reached up and lightly touched the side of Charis’ face. “Look down, Charis. Take your eyes off of the dragons and look to the ground.”

Charis’ eyes dropped to the ground beneath the great dragons. Her eyes grew wide in surprise as she observed all of the people. “The people, too? My people have come?” Once more tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

Rhema smiled and clasped Charis left hand with her right. “Did you expect Llywessiar to miss the opportunity to give one of his daughters away in marriage?”

Charis couldn’t help but allow a radiant smile beam from her face as tears openly flowed down her cheeks. “Well, I didn’t really expect him to devote the resources to bringing himself and his tribe to this occasion, either! After all, I’m not naturally his daughter.”

Rhema spotted three men standing in between the two massive wyrms. She easily recognized Ischarus and Semeion. Semeion stood below and slightly to the right of Llywessiar while Ischarus stood below and slightly to the left of Ausaphaborishan. She could tell by the expressions on the face of each of these men that they were in awe of the way that Rhema and Charis had been prepared for the service. They had not been ready for the beauty and the effects that the draconic themed dresses would have upon them.

The man who was standing in the center between Ischarus and Semeion gave Rhema a bit more of a difficulty in identification. Suddenly the man looked up toward Llywessiar and she caught sight of his own draconic markings. It was Brandt who stood between Ischarus and Semeion.

Charis spoke about the same time as Rhema made the identification of Brandt. “I suppose we should be heading towards that gathering, Rhema. They’ll be a bit disappointed if we turn around now.”

Rhema smiled and nodded. She stepped first with her right foot and Charis joined her. Together the two women walked stride for stride towards the people. When they had reached the place where the two quarter circles of Drakontai came together, the people parted and allowed them to pass through and into the circle. The women who had been serving both Rhema and Charis in the room of preparation filed into the ranks of the Drakontai who stood around Ausaphaborishan.

As the two women approached the inner heart of the circle, the wyrms increased the level of their hissing. Brandt leaned forward and spoke loudly into Ischarus’ and Semeion’s ear. “The hissing is a ceremonial act. It is said that no evil spirit can stand to be in the presence of a hiss from a virtuous dragon. Of course, this is only a legend. But you know superstition and tradition!”

Semeion smiled. Given the line of work that these four adventurers engaged themselves in, he would take all the superstitious wards that he could get his hands on. If enduring the loud hiss of a dragon would give them any luck at all - even if it was only imagined luck – he would take it. In a world where magical charms and telepathic powers had as much reality as the sword at Ischarus’ side there could be no telling how the hiss of a virtuous dragon would affect their lives.

Ischarus fidgeted nervously with his clothing as he watched the women come forward. His fingers adjusted the angle at which his sword and scabbard hung from his belt. Once they had adjusted the sword they slightly adjusted the positioning of the strap holding the dragon scale across his back.

Semeion reached over and lightly placed his hand upon Ischarus’ shoulder. “You don’t need to worry, Ischarus. I’ll be here for you the whole way. Charis will be here for you the whole way. And probably most importantly, Rhema is going to be here for you the whole way. Relax and enjoy the moment.”

Ischarus brought his fingers in on his palms. He could feel the dampness from the sweat soaking into the underside of the glove. “Relax. Those are easy words for you to say.” A smile passed over his face as he mentally tried to focus on the approaching women and not fidgeting.

When the half circle of Drakontai broke to allow the women through, Brandt watched from behind as both Ischarus and Semeion drew in a substantial breath. Their shoulders rose in unison, although Ischarus held his breath considerably longer. When it looked as though Ischarus had forgotten to exhale, Brandt leaned forward slightly to whisper into their ears once again. A devilish grin crossed his lips and a mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. “One word and we can all be out of here, you know. We could leave, just the three of us. This is your last chance.”

The comment caught Ischarus completely by surprise. He coughed, expelling a fair amount of the air that he had been holding within his lungs. Brandt’s words had the desired effect, and he straightened himself back to his full height. The grin remained on his face.

Semeion chuckled a bit and turned his head ever so slightly. “Don’t tempt him, Brandt. And if you did use your magic to take us to Tongra again, you know you’d have two angry women hunting you down.”

Ischarus smiled at the thought as the women drew even closer to them. Brandt spoke so softly that his lips didn’t even need to move. “Well, perhaps not, then. I wouldn’t want their fury after me.”

The women approached the men until they were within an arm’s reach. Semeion reached out and took both of Charis’ hands in his. Ischarus also reached out and took both of Rhema’s hands in his own. The gathered community of Drakontai cheered and clapped as the couples finally came together.

Brandt leaned forward. He noticed that the responsibility of the coming service had finally set in on each of them. All four of the faces before them had gone a touch on the pale side. Of course, Brandt knew that this was quite natural. He spoke softly enough so that only the two couples before him could hear. “Are you all ready to begin another adventure?”[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 17, 2007)

The ceremony proceeded quickly once it was underway.  In his capacity as temple priest, Brandt officiated the double wedding between the couples with grace and piety.  Ausaphaborishan readily accepted the marriage of Rhema to Ischarus and his clan of Drakontai welcomed Rhema as a member of Ausaphaborishan’s people.  In many respects they had already done so upon learning of her work with Ischarus in Quehalost several months back when Ausaphaborishan had been summoned to help the party rescue Charis’ people.

The same could be said about Semeion and the people of Llywessiar’s clan.  With Semeion’s marriage to Charis, the invitation was extended for Semeion to become part of Llywessiar’s people.  The separate clans under Llywessiar showed absolutely no distinction in their welcoming Semeion among the unified clan.

The couples were married in the eyes of the gods, in the eyes of the two dragon fathers, and in the eyes of the people.  The service itself took hardly more than three-quarters of an hour.  The gathered Drakontai erupted in a loud cheer as the service concluded with the combined draconic roars of approval.  Several of the men of Ausaphaborishan’s clan quickly departed to a nearby pavilion and began bringing out casks of wine and barrels of ale while other men began lighting a giant bonfire.  A mighty celebration would follow such a memorable service.  It was rare enough for a double wedding to occur.  It was even rarer for it to involve separate dragon fathers.

As the day passed into night, the foursome began to wind down in their duties of receiving the people.  There had been enough talk of congratulations, enough discussion for future plans, enough well-wishing in general.  The intermingling of the Drakontai clans began to separate into the more natural cliques according to the clans.  Llywessiar’s people would not be leaving until the next morning, but once the sun passed over the horizon the mingling grew less and less.  Many people were tired and desired to return to their accommodations.  Others in the village enjoyed sipping ale and wine while sitting beside the bonfire.  There was plenty of roasted meat to carry the remaining celebrants well into the evening.

It was at this time that the foursome found themselves alone.  They were standing away from the fire and rapidly growing more and more tired as the night took hold.  Each of them had either shaken the hand or joined in dance with nearly everyone from both of the clans.  Their minds were exhausted and their bodies ached.  Yet it had been a good day.

Brandt approached the party for the first time since the celebration had ended.  His position among Llywessiar’s people had kept him from officially greeting the newlyweds until now.  With the majority of the Drakontai clans beginning to retire, his official duties of office could also be retired for the evening.  As he approached the foursome, each of the newlyweds greeted him with a weary smile.

Charis stepped forward and met him in an embrace.  “Thank you so much for your willingness to officiate over our marriages.  With your tutelage over Ischarus and Semeion I doubt they could’ve found a more meaningful person to do the task.  As a fellow member of your clan I don’t think that I could be more proud to have you as one of our leaders.”

Brandt returned the hug warmly and deeply.  “It is always a pleasure to serve my people.  It is especially meaningful to serve those who have dedicated their lives in service of others as well.”

Charis released Brandt from her hug and stepped back.  There were a small amount of tears still left in her tear ducts and her eyes decided that this was an appropriate time to shed them.  As Charis stepped back, Semeion and Ischarus each exchanged sturdy handshakes with Brandt in recognition of his service.

When the men were finished thanking Brandt, Rhema approached Brandt and embraced him again.  “I agree with Charis and the others.  It was an honor to have you serve.  Although I have to confess that you caught me off guard when you began the service by whispering and asking us if we were ready for another adventure.  I almost imagined us vanishing at that moment into thin air through one of your teleportation spells!”

Brandt and the others chuckled at the thought.  “No, I had nothing so devious planned for that particular moment.  The adventure I spoke of is the adventure of marriage.  Marriage is one of the most joyful and difficult things that you will encounter in life.  I hope that you do not take it too lightly.”

The foursome simply stood in silence as they listened to the elder Drakontos.  They each realized that they had little that they could add that would be meaningful at this point.  Sure, they thought they understood what marriage was about, but they weren’t foolish enough to even hint that they knew what to expect.  Their chosen careers would make their marriage all the more unique.  Most married couples did not voluntarily head into hostile territory several times a year.

Brandt continued with his advice.  “Although, I do have a bit of a wedding gift for you that you might consider an adventure.” 

The Drakontos priest removed a small thin box from an inside pocket of his robes.  The box was ornate in the carvings along the outside.  Two Celtic Knot designs had been engraved into the wooden box so that the Celtic Knots appeared as ribbon tied around a package.  The box was made from solid oak so that even in its thin condition it was quite sturdy.

As Brandt held the thin box in his right hand he reached over the box with his left hand and gripped the top.  The box emitted a small creaking noise as Brandt slid the lid of the box to the left.  The lid slipped off completely, revealing small interlocking grooves that had been cut in both the top and the bottom of the box so that the box would remain securely closed.  As the box slid open the light cast from the bonfire flickered and cast shadows along the rich blue velvet used to line the inside.

Semeion smiled as his eyes moved past the rich fabric and onto the contents.  Lying inside the box were four simple gold rings.  One of the rings had a small oak leaf that had been twisted around its circle as some sort of identification.  Brandt offered the three unmarked rings to Rhema, Charis, and Semeion respectively.  The fourth ring he placed in his own left palm and undid the leaf binding.  As he undid the oak leaf wrapping around the ring, he offered a simple explanation.  “These are a simple gift, really.  Do not value them any more than you ought.  It is expected that the four of you will go anyplace that you desire in celebration of your marriage.  When that time of celebration is up, it is also expected that you will begin another trip from the villa in Huetown to the land of Quehalost.  These rings will aid you in that journey.  Within each of the three rings that I have already handed out is the latent energy of one single teleportation spell.  It will take you from wherever you are in this world and transport you back to your own bedrooms within Rhema’s father’s villa.  This ring, which I will give to Ischarus, has the magic of two spells inside.  I’ll use it to demonstrate the magic.”

He slipped the ring onto his finger and gave it a single twist.  Immediately his body wavered as if the ground under his feet emitted a great heat.  His body vanished immediately.  The foursome smiled in delight.

Semeion carried a look of awe on his face.  “I have got to learn that spell someday.”

Charis placed her firm had on his shoulder and smiled.  “Not until Brandt confirms that you are ready to handle the magical energies, of course.  I’ll not have my new husband teleporting himself into a wall or something more dangerous because you can’t handle the magic.”

Semeion’s expression reduced from awe to that of simple pleasure.  He spoke in a teasingly sarcastic tone.  “Yes, dear.”

Ischarus coughed in reaction to Semeion’s comment and placed his left arm around Rhema’s shoulders.  “By the gods, they’ve started already.”

Semeion laughed as he immediately understood the meaning of Ischarus’ words.  Charis gave Ischarus and Rhema a questioning glance.  “Started already?”

Rhema smiled at Charis and laughed.  “A commentary on Semeion’s subservience.”

Charis gave a polite smile to Ischarus and spoke with a tone mocking Ischarus’ earlier sarcasm.  “Darn right.”

The foursome shared a hearty laugh.  During the laugh, the air beside Semeion wavered again as Brandt returned via another teleportation spell.  His face revealed deep concern, however.  The foursome picked up on his expression and looked on with interest.

Ischarus spoke for the group.  “Brandt? What’s wrong?  Didn’t the ring work as you expected?”

Brandt slowly shook his head, obviously in disbelief.  He quickly took off the ring and tossed it to Ischarus.  “No, the rings work perfectly.  Put them on and use them to follow me.  Rhema, the villa has been destroyed!  It’s been completely destroyed!”

The foursome gasped in a unison sense of shock and Rhema exclaimed in surprise.  “Destroyed?  But, destroyed how?”

Brandt only shook his head side to side.  “I didn’t take long enough to investigate it.  It’s been leveled.  Come and see!”  Brandt waited until he saw that each of the foursome had their rings.  Once he was sure that the rings were in the right hands he spoke his magical command.  “Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.”

Brandt vanished once more in a waver as if hit by a great source of heat.  Rhema, Charis, and Semeion each twisted their rings and vanished in a similar effect.  Ischarus was left alone for a brief moment of time.

Rhema’s new husband paused for a moment and looked around.  He breathed in deeply and sighed.  By this time in the celebration most of the Drakontai wouldn’t even notice that they were gone.  He spoke to himself before twisting the ring that Brandt had given to him.  “They say that there is no rest for the weary.  After this day, I am weary.  But apparently there is also no time to enjoy the first night of marriage for the weary, either.”  With another sigh he twisted the small gold ring on his finger and vanished.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The ceremony proceeded quickly once it was underway. In his capacity as temple priest, Brandt officiated the double wedding between the couples with grace and piety. Ausaphaborishan readily accepted the marriage of Rhema to Ischarus and his clan of Drakontai welcomed Rhema as a member of Ausaphaborishan’s people. In many respects they had already done so upon learning of her work with Ischarus in Quehalost several months back when Ausaphaborishan had been summoned to help the party rescue Charis’ people.

The same could be said about Semeion and the people of Llywessiar’s clan. With Semeion’s marriage to Charis, the invitation was extended for Semeion to become part of Llywessiar’s people. The separate clans under Llywessiar showed absolutely no distinction in their welcoming Semeion among the unified clan.

The couples were married in the eyes of the gods, in the eyes of the two dragon fathers, and in the eyes of the people. The service itself took hardly more than three-quarters of an hour. The gathered Drakontai erupted in a loud cheer as the service concluded with the combined draconic roars of approval. Several of the men of Ausaphaborishan’s clan quickly departed to a nearby pavilion and began bringing out casks of wine and barrels of ale while other men began lighting a giant bonfire. A mighty celebration would follow such a memorable service. It was rare enough for a double wedding to occur. It was even rarer for it to involve separate dragon fathers.

As the day passed into night, the foursome began to wind down in their duties of receiving the people. There had been enough talk of congratulations, enough discussion for future plans, enough well-wishing in general. The intermingling of the Drakontai clans began to separate into the more natural cliques according to the clans. Llywessiar’s people would not be leaving until the next morning, but once the sun passed over the horizon the mingling grew less and less. Many people were tired and desired to return to their accommodations. Others in the village enjoyed sipping ale and wine while sitting beside the bonfire. There was plenty of roasted meat to carry the remaining celebrants well into the evening.

It was at this time that the foursome found themselves alone. They were standing away from the fire and rapidly growing more and more tired as the night took hold. Each of them had either shaken the hand or joined in dance with nearly everyone from both of the clans. Their minds were exhausted and their bodies ached. Yet it had been a good day.

Brandt approached the party for the first time since the celebration had ended. His position among Llywessiar’s people had kept him from officially greeting the newlyweds until now. With the majority of the Drakontai clans beginning to retire, his official duties of office could also be retired for the evening. As he approached the foursome, each of the newlyweds greeted him with a weary smile.

Charis stepped forward and met him in an embrace. “Thank you so much for your willingness to officiate over our marriages. With your tutelage over Ischarus and Semeion I doubt they could’ve found a more meaningful person to do the task. As a fellow member of your clan I don’t think that I could be more proud to have you as one of our leaders.”

Brandt returned the hug warmly and deeply. “It is always a pleasure to serve my people. It is especially meaningful to serve those who have dedicated their lives in service of others as well.”

Charis released Brandt from her hug and stepped back. There were a small amount of tears still left in her tear ducts and her eyes decided that this was an appropriate time to shed them. As Charis stepped back, Semeion and Ischarus each exchanged sturdy handshakes with Brandt in recognition of his service.

When the men were finished thanking Brandt, Rhema approached Brandt and embraced him again. “I agree with Charis and the others. It was an honor to have you serve. Although I have to confess that you caught me off guard when you began the service by whispering and asking us if we were ready for another adventure. I almost imagined us vanishing at that moment into thin air through one of your teleportation spells!”

Brandt and the others chuckled at the thought. “No, I had nothing so devious planned for that particular moment. The adventure I spoke of is the adventure of marriage. Marriage is one of the most joyful and difficult things that you will encounter in life. I hope that you do not take it too lightly.”

The foursome simply stood in silence as they listened to the elder Drakontos. They each realized that they had little that they could add that would be meaningful at this point. Sure, they thought they understood what marriage was about, but they weren’t foolish enough to even hint that they knew what to expect. Their chosen careers would make their marriage all the more unique. Most married couples did not voluntarily head into hostile territory several times a year.

Brandt continued with his advice. “Although, I do have a bit of a wedding gift for you that you might consider an adventure.” 

The Drakontos priest removed a small thin box from an inside pocket of his robes. The box was ornate in the carvings along the outside. Two Celtic Knot designs had been engraved into the wooden box so that the Celtic Knots appeared as ribbon tied around a package. The box was made from solid oak so that even in its thin condition it was quite sturdy.

As Brandt held the thin box in his right hand he reached over the box with his left hand and gripped the top. The box emitted a small creaking noise as Brandt slid the lid of the box to the left. The lid slipped off completely, revealing small interlocking grooves that had been cut in both the top and the bottom of the box so that the box would remain securely closed. As the box slid open the light cast from the bonfire flickered and cast shadows along the rich blue velvet used to line the inside.

Semeion smiled as his eyes moved past the rich fabric and onto the contents. Lying inside the box were four simple gold rings. One of the rings had a small oak leaf that had been twisted around its circle as some sort of identification. Brandt offered the three unmarked rings to Rhema, Charis, and Semeion respectively. The fourth ring he placed in his own left palm and undid the leaf binding. As he undid the oak leaf wrapping around the ring, he offered a simple explanation. “These are a simple gift, really. Do not value them any more than you ought. It is expected that the four of you will go anyplace that you desire in celebration of your marriage. When that time of celebration is up, it is also expected that you will begin another trip from the villa in Huetown to the land of Quehalost. These rings will aid you in that journey. Within each of the three rings that I have already handed out is the latent energy of one single teleportation spell. It will take you from wherever you are in this world and transport you back to your own bedrooms within Rhema’s father’s villa. This ring, which I will give to Ischarus, has the magic of two spells inside. I’ll use it to demonstrate the magic.”

He slipped the ring onto his finger and gave it a single twist. Immediately his body wavered as if the ground under his feet emitted a great heat. His body vanished immediately. The foursome smiled in delight.

Semeion carried a look of awe on his face. “I have got to learn that spell someday.”

Charis placed her firm had on his shoulder and smiled. “Not until Brandt confirms that you are ready to handle the magical energies, of course. I’ll not have my new husband teleporting himself into a wall or something more dangerous because you can’t handle the magic.”

Semeion’s expression reduced from awe to that of simple pleasure. He spoke in a teasingly sarcastic tone. “Yes, dear.”

Ischarus coughed in reaction to Semeion’s comment and placed his left arm around Rhema’s shoulders. “By the gods, they’ve started already.”

Semeion laughed as he immediately understood the meaning of Ischarus’ words. Charis gave Ischarus and Rhema a questioning glance. “Started already?”

Rhema smiled at Charis and laughed. “A commentary on Semeion’s subservience.”

Charis gave a polite smile to Ischarus and spoke with a tone mocking Ischarus’ earlier sarcasm. “Darn right.”

The foursome shared a hearty laugh. During the laugh, the air beside Semeion wavered again as Brandt returned via another teleportation spell. His face revealed deep concern, however. The foursome picked up on his expression and looked on with interest.

Ischarus spoke for the group. “Brandt? What’s wrong? Didn’t the ring work as you expected?”

Brandt slowly shook his head, obviously in disbelief. He quickly took off the ring and tossed it to Ischarus. “No, the rings work perfectly. Put them on and use them to follow me. Rhema, the villa has been destroyed! It’s been completely destroyed!”

The foursome gasped in a unison sense of shock and Rhema exclaimed in surprise. “Destroyed? But, destroyed how?”

Brandt only shook his head side to side. “I didn’t take long enough to investigate it. It’s been leveled. Come and see!” Brandt waited until he saw that each of the foursome had their rings. Once he was sure that the rings were in the right hands he spoke his magical command. “Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.”

Brandt vanished once more in a waver as if hit by a great source of heat. Rhema, Charis, and Semeion each twisted their rings and vanished in a similar effect. Ischarus was left alone for a brief moment of time.

Rhema’s new husband paused for a moment and looked around. He breathed in deeply and sighed. By this time in the celebration most of the Drakontai wouldn’t even notice that they were gone. He spoke to himself before twisting the ring that Brandt had given to him. “They say that there is no rest for the weary. After this day, I am weary. But apparently there is also no time to enjoy the first night of marriage for the weary, either.” With another sigh he twisted the small gold ring on his finger and vanished.[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Jan 20, 2007)

When the foursome had actually appeared in Tongra at Rhema’s father’s villa, they could each feel the magic of the rings drain across their fingers into the air around them.  This simple passing of the magical effect paled in comparison to the emotional effect that they experienced from the destruction that stood before them.  Small patches of fire still reached up into the air as the flames tried to consume each and every ounce of combustible material nearby.  The fires greedily latched onto anything that would burn and suffocated it until there was nothing more to give.

The villa had crumbled and was completely destroyed.  It had once been a proud testament to the land.  The stone that made up the bottom floor had been pulled out of the fields as Rhema’s ancestors used teams of horses to clear the land.  The second floor had been constructed from the large timbers of the surrounding forest.  The building had withstood many strong gales without even flinching.  It received a plethora of snow each winter, but the roof and the foundation never once sagged.  The stone foundation had even lessened the risk of natural fire from dangers of outdoor cooking and even lightning strikes.  The villa had stood for well over a century needing only casual repair.

Rhema ran the few short steps to her father’s villa and knelt in some of the ash that had fallen and cooled some time ago.  Her words seethed angrily out of her mouth.  “Arson.  It has to be arson.”  Her eyes had not yet shifted away from the house to take in the surrounding farmland.  Charis wrapped her arms around Rhema to embrace her in the midst of the great pain.

Ischarus and Semeion had turned their gaze to the land surrounding the villa.  The scene of destruction sprawled away from them as far as they could see.  The new crops had been burned in the fields.  They would not produce a harvest this coming fall.  Blackness scorched the earth running in long swaths across the ground.  It was almost as if a great scythe made of fire had cut across the land.  It appeared as though the destruction was premeditated and executed rather than left to burn on its own.

Ischarus spoke next, adding to Rhema’s earlier conclusion.  “Arson comes in many kinds, Rhema.  A look at the destruction in the fields proves that there was some kind of intelligence behind the attack.  But the stretches of black are far deeper than what could have been left by the young green plants.  The plants would not have burned so strongly.  Something with a great source of fire thoroughly burned the fields.”

Semeion assumed that he knew where Ischarus was headed with his assertion.  “Are you thinking this is the work of a dragon?  Perhaps Charis’ father dragon wasn’t destroyed after all?  Maybe the red wyrm has come back to exact revenge?”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement.  “A dragon is a definite possibility as the culprit, but it couldn’t have been Charis’ dragon father.  Ausaphaborishan, Lllywessiar, and Sappurapolician all saw the red wyrm enter into death.  The wyrm exploded when it was overcome by my dragon father’s icy breath.”

Rhema turned and gasped for the first time as she drew her eyes away from the house and looked at the fields.  “By the gods!  How could this have happened?  Look at the destruction!”

The foursome, with Brandt standing behind them, knew that the destruction had to be worse than what they could see.  It was already a few hours past dusk and they were looking by the means of starlight.  Thankfully the night was clear and they could get a firm understanding of what exactly the damage would look like in the morning.  However, they all knew that the light of day would shed a much more devastating picture on the destruction in this place.

Charis replied to Rhema’s rhetorical question as she turned to look at the carnage.  “I don’t think that it is likely to be a dragon strike.  Most of the evil dragons in Quehalost would’ve seen what we did to my dragon father as a blessing.  There’s less competition in Quehalost now.”

Semeion nodded in agreement.  “Yeah.  Not only is there less competition, but there is also available space to move into.  Surely the land is not still empty.”

Rhema continued to stare at the burned fields before them.  “But, what other force could provide enough fire to completely raze the villa and the fields?  I don’t know of many forces in the world that can burn their way through fields that haven’t grown up enough to sustain the fire themselves!”

Ischarus looked up to the sky, wondering what had happened here while they were being united in marriage.  He turned to Brandt and offered up a quizzical expression.  “You don’t give the dragon theory much credence, do you Brandt?”

Brandt slowly shook his head side to side.  “Not for a moment.  The destruction appears to be designed to look as though something large and powerful flew through here and wanted revenge.  It looks as though to be caused by somebody who knew about the connection between this place and the red wyrm from Quehalost.  But I know for certain that Tongra does not carry threats from red dragons this far north.  There is occasionally a threat from a green or brown dragon that is native to the land.  But the thought of a red wyrm this far north into Tongra is almost inconceivable.  They’d have to cross the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains and fly the entire distance up here.  Surely a wyrm large enough to produce this kind of destruction would be spotted by another dragon.  Not only that, but this kind of thoroughness in destruction would have taken a single dragon too much time.  If this was from a draconic source, it would have had to have been a flight of dragons.  If that is the case, the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons would have been alerted of the threat.”

Rhema pursed her lips in anger.  “Who, then?  Who would have a large enough grudge against my father to burn down his villa and the crops in the fields?”

She paused for a moment and Charis gasped in realization.  “Rhema, your father!  Is he still safe in Ausaphaborishan’s valley in Barghost?”

A look of horror descended upon the faces of the five gathered among the ash covered remains.  Up until now this was only a simple act of violence upon property.  None of the five people standing together had once thought of the people in this place.  With the celebration, only a skeleton staff was left behind to run the villa’s operations.

Rhema replied as a tear descended down her cheek.  “Yes, my father is still in Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  Most of those who were living at the villa had come to Barghost to witness the wedding.  But certainly not everyone had come.”

A lump stuck in Rhema’s throat as she spoke the last words of her sentence.  Whoever or whatever had brought this destruction upon the villa had obliterated the structure.  They had destroyed the crop fields thoroughly.  There could be little hope for anyone who was caught at the villa when the destruction had hit.

Ischarus looked back toward the rubble from the stone villa that was now covered in ash from the massive fire.  “How many were left, Rhema?  Do you remember?”

Rhema shook her head from side to side.  “Four?  Five?  Six at the most?  I don’t recall.  I was too worried about the wedding celebration to really know for certain.  I know that all the Drakontai still at the villa had come with us to Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  There would have been someone to watch the house, someone to oversee the fields, someone to care for the farm animals.”

Her voice stopped suddenly at the thought of the animals.  The whole group instinctively turned to the location of the barn.  They were not surprised in the least to find smoldering remains left behind.  In truth, the party had witnessed enough carnage by this point that there was little that would have surprised them any more.  The act was so violent and so senseless that there was little reason for any of what they saw.  It was impossible to make any sense of the destroyed land before their eyes.

Ischarus wrapped an arm around Rhema.  “I know this isn’t really what you want to hear at this time, Rhema.  But do you think that we’ve seen enough of the destruction for this night?  I know that I can’t stomach much more of this destruction, and there isn’t much else that we can do for a while until the morning.  We won’t get any answers until then.”

Charis approached Rhema from the side opposite to which Ischarus stood and wrapped her own arm around Rhema’s waist.  “He’s right, you know.  There isn’t much we can do in the dark.  We’ve all lost a bit of ourselves in this.  Maybe the animals escaped the barn burn.  Maybe the hands were able to flee if they got any warning at all.  And we can certainly rebuild.”

Rhema turned her head into Ischarus’ strong shoulder and began to weep.  She needed to mourn.  It was supposed to be one of the happiest nights of her life.  Instead, it would be a night that she wished she could forget.

Brandt motioned for Semeion to return to his side and complete the circle around Rhema.  As Rhema continued to weep, the others joined hands around her and made sure that Rhema was included in the circle.  Brandt spoke the simple arcane words that would return them to Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  As silently as they had come, the party wavered once more and vanished into thin air.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
When the foursome had actually appeared in Tongra at Rhema’s father’s villa, they could each feel the magic of the rings drain across their fingers into the air around them. This simple passing of the magical effect paled in comparison to the emotional effect that they experienced from the destruction that stood before them. Small patches of fire still reached up into the air as the flames tried to consume each and every ounce of combustible material nearby. The fires greedily latched onto anything that would burn and suffocated it until there was nothing more to give.

The villa had crumbled and was completely destroyed. It had once been a proud testament to the land. The stone that made up the bottom floor had been pulled out of the fields as Rhema’s ancestors used teams of horses to clear the land. The second floor had been constructed from the large timbers of the surrounding forest. The building had withstood many strong gales without even flinching. It received a plethora of snow each winter, but the roof and the foundation never once sagged. The stone foundation had even lessened the risk of natural fire from dangers of outdoor cooking and even lightning strikes. The villa had stood for well over a century needing only casual repair.

Rhema ran the few short steps to her father’s villa and knelt in some of the ash that had fallen and cooled some time ago. Her words seethed angrily out of her mouth. “Arson. It has to be arson.” Her eyes had not yet shifted away from the house to take in the surrounding farmland. Charis wrapped her arms around Rhema to embrace her in the midst of the great pain.

Ischarus and Semeion had turned their gaze to the land surrounding the villa. The scene of destruction sprawled away from them as far as they could see. The new crops had been burned in the fields. They would not produce a harvest this coming fall. Blackness scorched the earth running in long swaths across the ground. It was almost as if a great scythe made of fire had cut across the land. It appeared as though the destruction was premeditated and executed rather than left to burn on its own.

Ischarus spoke next, adding to Rhema’s earlier conclusion. “Arson comes in many kinds, Rhema. A look at the destruction in the fields proves that there was some kind of intelligence behind the attack. But the stretches of black are far deeper than what could have been left by the young green plants. The plants would not have burned so strongly. Something with a great source of fire thoroughly burned the fields.”

Semeion assumed that he knew where Ischarus was headed with his assertion. “Are you thinking this is the work of a dragon? Perhaps Charis’ father dragon wasn’t destroyed after all? Maybe the red wyrm has come back to exact revenge?”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement. “A dragon is a definite possibility as the culprit, but it couldn’t have been Charis’ dragon father. Ausaphaborishan, Lllywessiar, and Sappurapolician all saw the red wyrm enter into death. The wyrm exploded when it was overcome by my dragon father’s icy breath.”

Rhema turned and gasped for the first time as she drew her eyes away from the house and looked at the fields. “By the gods! How could this have happened? Look at the destruction!”

The foursome, with Brandt standing behind them, knew that the destruction had to be worse than what they could see. It was already a few hours past dusk and they were looking by the means of starlight. Thankfully the night was clear and they could get a firm understanding of what exactly the damage would look like in the morning. However, they all knew that the light of day would shed a much more devastating picture on the destruction in this place.

Charis replied to Rhema’s rhetorical question as she turned to look at the carnage. “I don’t think that it is likely to be a dragon strike. Most of the evil dragons in Quehalost would’ve seen what we did to my dragon father as a blessing. There’s less competition in Quehalost now.”

Semeion nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Not only is there less competition, but there is also available space to move into. Surely the land is not still empty.”

Rhema continued to stare at the burned fields before them. “But, what other force could provide enough fire to completely raze the villa and the fields? I don’t know of many forces in the world that can burn their way through fields that haven’t grown up enough to sustain the fire themselves!”

Ischarus looked up to the sky, wondering what had happened here while they were being united in marriage. He turned to Brandt and offered up a quizzical expression. “You don’t give the dragon theory much credence, do you Brandt?”

Brandt slowly shook his head side to side. “Not for a moment. The destruction appears to be designed to look as though something large and powerful flew through here and wanted revenge. It looks as though to be caused by somebody who knew about the connection between this place and the red wyrm from Quehalost. But I know for certain that Tongra does not carry threats from red dragons this far north. There is occasionally a threat from a green or brown dragon that is native to the land. But the thought of a red wyrm this far north into Tongra is almost inconceivable. They’d have to cross the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains and fly the entire distance up here. Surely a wyrm large enough to produce this kind of destruction would be spotted by another dragon. Not only that, but this kind of thoroughness in destruction would have taken a single dragon too much time. If this was from a draconic source, it would have had to have been a flight of dragons. If that is the case, the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons would have been alerted of the threat.”

Rhema pursed her lips in anger. “Who, then? Who would have a large enough grudge against my father to burn down his villa and the crops in the fields?”

She paused for a moment and Charis gasped in realization. “Rhema, your father! Is he still safe in Ausaphaborishan’s valley in Barghost?”

A look of horror descended upon the faces of the five gathered among the ash covered remains. Up until now this was only a simple act of violence upon property. None of the five people standing together had once thought of the people in this place. With the celebration, only a skeleton staff was left behind to run the villa’s operations.

Rhema replied as a tear descended down her cheek. “Yes, my father is still in Ausaphaborishan’s valley. Most of those who were living at the villa had come to Barghost to witness the wedding. But certainly not everyone had come.”

A lump stuck in Rhema’s throat as she spoke the last words of her sentence. Whoever or whatever had brought this destruction upon the villa had obliterated the structure. They had destroyed the crop fields thoroughly. There could be little hope for anyone who was caught at the villa when the destruction had hit.

Ischarus looked back toward the rubble from the stone villa that was now covered in ash from the massive fire. “How many were left, Rhema? Do you remember?”

Rhema shook her head from side to side. “Four? Five? Six at the most? I don’t recall. I was too worried about the wedding celebration to really know for certain. I know that all the Drakontai still at the villa had come with us to Ausaphaborishan’s valley. There would have been someone to watch the house, someone to oversee the fields, someone to care for the farm animals.”

Her voice stopped suddenly at the thought of the animals. The whole group instinctively turned to the location of the barn. They were not surprised in the least to find smoldering remains left behind. In truth, the party had witnessed enough carnage by this point that there was little that would have surprised them any more. The act was so violent and so senseless that there was little reason for any of what they saw. It was impossible to make any sense of the destroyed land before their eyes.

Ischarus wrapped an arm around Rhema. “I know this isn’t really what you want to hear at this time, Rhema. But do you think that we’ve seen enough of the destruction for this night? I know that I can’t stomach much more of this destruction, and there isn’t much else that we can do for a while until the morning. We won’t get any answers until then.”

Charis approached Rhema from the side opposite to which Ischarus stood and wrapped her own arm around Rhema’s waist. “He’s right, you know. There isn’t much we can do in the dark. We’ve all lost a bit of ourselves in this. Maybe the animals escaped the barn burn. Maybe the hands were able to flee if they got any warning at all. And we can certainly rebuild.”

Rhema turned her head into Ischarus’ strong shoulder and began to weep. She needed to mourn. It was supposed to be one of the happiest nights of her life. Instead, it would be a night that she wished she could forget.

Brandt motioned for Semeion to return to his side and complete the circle around Rhema. As Rhema continued to weep, the others joined hands around her and made sure that Rhema was included in the circle. Brandt spoke the simple arcane words that would return them to Ausaphaborishan’s valley. As silently as they had come, the party wavered once more and vanished into thin air.[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Jan 22, 2007)

The night was long for each of the foursome who had just been married.  Instead of the excitement of spending their first nights together as married couples, the four huddled together in Ischarus’ and Rhema’s room around a wood burning iron stove.  They couldn’t sleep knowing what they had seen earlier in the night.  They couldn’t bear to be alone and to be left with their thoughts to keep them awake.  They spent much of the night talking amongst themselves and lightly dozing in and out of the conversation.

Just after sunrise, the foursome was alerted to the coming day by a knock upon the door.  Brandt spoke to them from the other side.  “Hello?  Is everyone in this room?  I tried the room for Semeion and Charis and couldn’t find anyone.”

Semeion and Charis sat closest to the door.  The young mage stood up wearily and crossed the few steps to where he could open the door.  He opened the door wide to allow Brandt free access to the room.

Brandt smiled as he saw Semeion and then the other three occupants of the room.  “Well, I guess that is why I couldn’t find you, then.”  He knew that there wasn’t much point in asking them how their night was.  The dark circles under their eyes told him all that he needed to know.

Charis stood to greet Brandt.  “We didn’t sleep much, but that shouldn’t really surprise you.  We were just waiting for the sun to come up so that we could go back to Tongra and start looking at what happened.”

Rhema looked out the window.  “The sun hasn’t been up for that long of a time, has it?”

Brandt shook his head from side to side.  “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes by now.  Certainly it is still dark in Tongra to the west.  However, the light of the sun should be reaching your father’s land within an hour.  Does he know?”

Ischarus looked to his new wife, but Rhema turned her head back to the window.  She couldn’t bear the thought of telling her father what had happened.  Ischarus turned his head back to look at Brandt but could see that Brandt had already interpreted Rhema’s actions.  He spoke the truth anyway, knowing that Rhema needed to hear the words.  “We couldn’t justify ruining his night of sleep.  We could console each other, and there was nothing any one of us could have done last night anyway.  We thought it best to let him sleep.  I’ll go tell him while we get ready to return.”

Rhema reached her hand out back to where she knew Ischarus stood.  She wasn’t looking in his direction, so she hand reached back blindly.  Ischarus saw the gesture and reached out to take her hand into his own.  At the touch, Rhema spoke as she continued to stare out the window.  “I’ll go, too.  It was my land and he is my father.  I should be there with you.”

Charis looked to Semeion and spoke the words that she knew Semeion was also thinking.  “We can all go, Rhema.  We can all be there to support you and your father.”

Rhema smiled and turned away from the window to face Charis.  “No.  You both stay here and pack.  When you are ready, pack up what little Ischarus and I have brought as well.  We’ll meet you wherever Brandt wants to meet so that we can return together.”

Brandt spoke next.  He wanted to interrupt the plans with the information that he had already learned before coming to the newlyweds’ chambers.  “Ausaphaborishan and Llywessiar have already been told of this.  I took the liberty to tell them early this morning.  Ausaphaborishan desires to return with us and if nothing else to provide for our security.  There is no telling if the ones who accomplished such destruction might still be in the area.  If they are, Ausaphaborishan would like to be there to help discourage them from staying.”

Ischarus smiled and hugged Rhema.  “Then it is settled.  We’ll go to Rhema’s father.  Semeion and Ischarus will pack up what little belongings that we’ll need for the day.  And we’ll meet you and Ausaphaborishan where, Brandt?”

Brandt looked directly into Ischarus’ eyes.  “We’ll meet Ausaphaborishan at the north face.”

The foursome nodded and with a solemn determination they went about their tasks.  Rhema and Ischarus had no easy time telling Rhema’s father, but within a half an hour they had worked through the shock and immediate despair to be able to bring themselves to the north face.  Semeion and Charis were already standing beside Brandt waiting for them.  Ausaphaborishan was lying in a great circle with his neck and tail wrapping around those who had gathered.  As Ischarus approached with his new bride and father-in-law, the dragon stood.  When everyone had reached out and placed a hand upon his tail, Ausaphaborishan spoke the magic words and the group vanished in the familiar wavering effect.

In Tongra, the group appeared under the cover of darkness.  The teleportation spell had managed to beat the sun’s rays of light across the land.  Ausaphaborishan lifted his head to the sky and searched the stars above him.  As his nostrils filled with the smell of ash, he thought.  The large wyrm spoke through a mighty exhale that nearly sounded light a deep moan of pain.  “The sun will make its appearance in about ten minutes by the look of the stars and the clouds in the sky to the east.”

Rhema’s father fell to his knees as the starlight gave him his first glimpse of the ruined villa.  As he collapsed to the ground, his left knee struck the remains of a completely burned timber that had once made up the outer wall of the house.  The wood had been burned so quickly that it retained much of its shape despite being deeply blackened and ashen in color.  As his knee struck the scorched log, it became obvious that the fire had destroyed the wood entirely, however.  The log burst into a cloud of ash upon receiving the weight of the man’s knee.

Rhema’s father began to weep bitterly as the cloud of ash surrounded his body and then settled back upon the ground around him.  The man reached down to the ground and scooped up a small handful of ash into his left hand.  He spit several times into his right palm and mixed the two hands together.  As the ash mixed together with the spit, he took the fingers of his left hand and smeared the mixture over the skin of his face.  

The rest of the party could do nothing but stand around him and support the man in his pain.  Rhema reached out and placed her hand lightly upon her father’s left shoulder.  His right hand crossed his body and reached up to embrace the top of her hand.  Rhema’s hand was smeared with the ash and spittle mixture.  Ischarus reached out and wrapped his right arm around Rhema’s shoulders.  There was little to do here but mourn.

After several minutes of silence, Rhema’s father spoke softly through the weeping.  “Who could have done this?  Who has the power enough to have accomplished this task?”

Silence passed for several moments.  Nobody desired to speak until they were sure that the man’s words were complete.  Ausaphaborishan spoke first in order to break the silence.  “Not only should you ask who could have done this and who would have done this, but I think that you should also ask who knew of the details of the wedding.  The strike against this villa was obviously timed to occur when it was most defenseless.”

The dragon’s voice from above had caught the gathered people off-guard.  With the mourning of Rhema’s father they had completely forgotten that there was a large dragon in their midst.  The wyrm’s voice had thundered down from above as if it were coming unexpectedly from the heavens above.

Rhema’s father shook his head.  “I told my friends, of course.  Any proud father would do such a thing.  All of the servants at the villa knew of the wedding.  Of course that means that most of Huetown would have known, or at least those who had any interest in the wedding would have known.  But what would the rest of the world care?  We have but few dealings with anyone of substantial power in the civilized lands.  Our greatest enemies live in Quehalost.  I doubt any word of the wedding would have made it that far!”

Brandt chewed on his lower lip for a second as he thought.  “I agree.  The threats in Quehalost are unlikely.  They simply are just too far away to take this much effort in revenge.  Not only that, but the red wyrm has been destroyed.  That was the biggest foe for this adventuring band.”

The sun began to peak over the horizon to the east.  With the sun’s rays taking such a slight angle with relation to the sun, Ischarus thought he could make out a simple glint of metal about twenty feet towards the coming appearance of the sun.  His arm left Rhema’s shoulder and he slowly walked over to where he was sure the glint of metal had been seen.

When he reached the spot, he couldn’t see any metal.  His feet began to sift through the ash and his boot struck something solid.  As he knelt to the ground his hand reached gingerly into the short layer of ash that covered the ground.  His fingers found what his foot had struck earlier.  It was a small blade.

The rest of the party looked on with curiosity.  When Ischarus knelt down to lift something up, Semeion called out with curiosity and began walking toward Ischarus.  “Ischarus, what have you found?”

Ischarus carefully lifted the blade out of the ash that covered it.  Ischarus discovered that his hands held a ceremonial dagger.  Most likely, it had accidentally fallen from its owner’s hands or its sheath.  Ischarus found that there was a pattern burned into the leather that bound the handle of the dagger.  The symbol was as simple as the blade was ornate.  The symbol was that of a crescent moon with a small dagger sticking through it.  Ischarus narrowed his eyes as he thought about the design.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The night was long for each of the foursome who had just been married. Instead of the excitement of spending their first nights together as married couples, the four huddled together in Ischarus’ and Rhema’s room around a wood burning iron stove. They couldn’t sleep knowing what they had seen earlier in the night. They couldn’t bear to be alone and to be left with their thoughts to keep them awake. They spent much of the night talking amongst themselves and lightly dozing in and out of the conversation.

Just after sunrise, the foursome was alerted to the coming day by a knock upon the door. Brandt spoke to them from the other side. “Hello? Is everyone in this room? I tried the room for Semeion and Charis and couldn’t find anyone.”

Semeion and Charis sat closest to the door. The young mage stood up wearily and crossed the few steps to where he could open the door. He opened the door wide to allow Brandt free access to the room.

Brandt smiled as he saw Semeion and then the other three occupants of the room. “Well, I guess that is why I couldn’t find you, then.” He knew that there wasn’t much point in asking them how their night was. The dark circles under their eyes told him all that he needed to know.

Charis stood to greet Brandt. “We didn’t sleep much, but that shouldn’t really surprise you. We were just waiting for the sun to come up so that we could go back to Tongra and start looking at what happened.”

Rhema looked out the window. “The sun hasn’t been up for that long of a time, has it?”

Brandt shook his head from side to side. “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes by now. Certainly it is still dark in Tongra to the west. However, the light of the sun should be reaching your father’s land within an hour. Does he know?”

Ischarus looked to his new wife, but Rhema turned her head back to the window. She couldn’t bear the thought of telling her father what had happened. Ischarus turned his head back to look at Brandt but could see that Brandt had already interpreted Rhema’s actions. He spoke the truth anyway, knowing that Rhema needed to hear the words. “We couldn’t justify ruining his night of sleep. We could console each other, and there was nothing any one of us could have done last night anyway. We thought it best to let him sleep. I’ll go tell him while we get ready to return.”

Rhema reached her hand out back to where she knew Ischarus stood. She wasn’t looking in his direction, so she hand reached back blindly. Ischarus saw the gesture and reached out to take her hand into his own. At the touch, Rhema spoke as she continued to stare out the window. “I’ll go, too. It was my land and he is my father. I should be there with you.”

Charis looked to Semeion and spoke the words that she knew Semeion was also thinking. “We can all go, Rhema. We can all be there to support you and your father.”

Rhema smiled and turned away from the window to face Charis. “No. You both stay here and pack. When you are ready, pack up what little Ischarus and I have brought as well. We’ll meet you wherever Brandt wants to meet so that we can return together.”

Brandt spoke next. He wanted to interrupt the plans with the information that he had already learned before coming to the newlyweds’ chambers. “Ausaphaborishan and Llywessiar have already been told of this. I took the liberty to tell them early this morning. Ausaphaborishan desires to return with us and if nothing else to provide for our security. There is no telling if the ones who accomplished such destruction might still be in the area. If they are, Ausaphaborishan would like to be there to help discourage them from staying.”

Ischarus smiled and hugged Rhema. “Then it is settled. We’ll go to Rhema’s father. Semeion and Ischarus will pack up what little belongings that we’ll need for the day. And we’ll meet you and Ausaphaborishan where, Brandt?”

Brandt looked directly into Ischarus’ eyes. “We’ll meet Ausaphaborishan at the north face.”

The foursome nodded and with a solemn determination they went about their tasks. Rhema and Ischarus had no easy time telling Rhema’s father, but within a half an hour they had worked through the shock and immediate despair to be able to bring themselves to the north face. Semeion and Charis were already standing beside Brandt waiting for them. Ausaphaborishan was lying in a great circle with his neck and tail wrapping around those who had gathered. As Ischarus approached with his new bride and father-in-law, the dragon stood. When everyone had reached out and placed a hand upon his tail, Ausaphaborishan spoke the magic words and the group vanished in the familiar wavering effect.

In Tongra, the group appeared under the cover of darkness. The teleportation spell had managed to beat the sun’s rays of light across the land. Ausaphaborishan lifted his head to the sky and searched the stars above him. As his nostrils filled with the smell of ash, he thought. The large wyrm spoke through a mighty exhale that nearly sounded light a deep moan of pain. “The sun will make its appearance in about ten minutes by the look of the stars and the clouds in the sky to the east.”

Rhema’s father fell to his knees as the starlight gave him his first glimpse of the ruined villa. As he collapsed to the ground, his left knee struck the remains of a completely burned timber that had once made up the outer wall of the house. The wood had been burned so quickly that it retained much of its shape despite being deeply blackened and ashen in color. As his knee struck the scorched log, it became obvious that the fire had destroyed the wood entirely, however. The log burst into a cloud of ash upon receiving the weight of the man’s knee.

Rhema’s father began to weep bitterly as the cloud of ash surrounded his body and then settled back upon the ground around him. The man reached down to the ground and scooped up a small handful of ash into his left hand. He spit several times into his right palm and mixed the two hands together. As the ash mixed together with the spit, he took the fingers of his left hand and smeared the mixture over the skin of his face. 

The rest of the party could do nothing but stand around him and support the man in his pain. Rhema reached out and placed her hand lightly upon her father’s left shoulder. His right hand crossed his body and reached up to embrace the top of her hand. Rhema’s hand was smeared with the ash and spittle mixture. Ischarus reached out and wrapped his right arm around Rhema’s shoulders. There was little to do here but mourn.

After several minutes of silence, Rhema’s father spoke softly through the weeping. “Who could have done this? Who has the power enough to have accomplished this task?”

Silence passed for several moments. Nobody desired to speak until they were sure that the man’s words were complete. Ausaphaborishan spoke first in order to break the silence. “Not only should you ask who could have done this and who would have done this, but I think that you should also ask who knew of the details of the wedding. The strike against this villa was obviously timed to occur when it was most defenseless.”

The dragon’s voice from above had caught the gathered people off-guard. With the mourning of Rhema’s father they had completely forgotten that there was a large dragon in their midst. The wyrm’s voice had thundered down from above as if it were coming unexpectedly from the heavens above.

Rhema’s father shook his head. “I told my friends, of course. Any proud father would do such a thing. All of the servants at the villa knew of the wedding. Of course that means that most of Huetown would have known, or at least those who had any interest in the wedding would have known. But what would the rest of the world care? We have but few dealings with anyone of substantial power in the civilized lands. Our greatest enemies live in Quehalost. I doubt any word of the wedding would have made it that far!”

Brandt chewed on his lower lip for a second as he thought. “I agree. The threats in Quehalost are unlikely. They simply are just too far away to take this much effort in revenge. Not only that, but the red wyrm has been destroyed. That was the biggest foe for this adventuring band.”

The sun began to peak over the horizon to the east. With the sun’s rays taking such a slight angle with relation to the sun, Ischarus thought he could make out a simple glint of metal about twenty feet towards the coming appearance of the sun. His arm left Rhema’s shoulder and he slowly walked over to where he was sure the glint of metal had been seen.

When he reached the spot, he couldn’t see any metal. His feet began to sift through the ash and his boot struck something solid. As he knelt to the ground his hand reached gingerly into the short layer of ash that covered the ground. His fingers found what his foot had struck earlier. It was a small blade.

The rest of the party looked on with curiosity. When Ischarus knelt down to lift something up, Semeion called out with curiosity and began walking toward Ischarus. “Ischarus, what have you found?”

Ischarus carefully lifted the blade out of the ash that covered it. Ischarus discovered that his hands held a ceremonial dagger. Most likely, it had accidentally fallen from its owner’s hands or its sheath. Ischarus found that there was a pattern burned into the leather that bound the handle of the dagger. The symbol was as simple as the blade was ornate. The symbol was that of a crescent moon with a small dagger sticking through it. Ischarus narrowed his eyes as he thought about the design.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 24, 2007)

*Chapter Two: DECEPTION REVEALED*

Ischarus looked up from the markings along the dagger’s face and handle.  “It’s nothing that I have seen before.  I mean, it’s a ceremonial dagger, of course.  But I’ve never seen these markings.”  Slowly Ischarus walked back towards the party.  He turned the dagger over several times in his hands in an attempt to look for any other evidence of hidden symbols.  He couldn’t find any.

Semeion met him half way and extended out his hand to receive the dagger.  “Do you mind if I take a look?  I have studied arcane symbols to some extent.”  Of course, Semeion completely forgot that Brandt and Ausaphaborishan were present and would likely have been able to recognize any symbol that Semeion could identify.  He shook his head slowly and handed the blade back to Ischarus.  “Nope, I don’t really recognize it either.  It’s clearly a hidden message of some kind.  The crescent moon is etched in outline only and the engraving of the dagger is no less basic in design.”

Brandt’s eyes narrowed as Semeion spoke of the symbol.  “I’m sorry, did you say crescent moon and dagger?”  His voice betrayed a subtle tone of alarm.

Semeion turned his head around sharply at Brandt’s intrusion.  “Yeah.  It’s a crescent moon with a dagger plunged halfway though it.  Does that symbol mean something to you?”

Brandt looked up to Ausaphaborishan.  He noticed that the dragon appeared as worried as he felt. “If it is what I think it is, then you have found a ceremonial dagger of the Ephistaemi.  And, no, that is not a good thing.”

Rhema’s father stepped towards Semeion and held out his hand to receive the blade.  Rhema was not more than a step behind him when the man spoke to Brandt.  “But I have never heard of such a people.  Are they a race?  And what could they have against me?”

Brandt smiled at the simple questions.  “No, the Ephistaemi are not a race of people.  The best way to describe them is that they are an organization.”

Ausaphaborishan’s deep and rumbling voice interrupted Brandt from above.  “You are being much to kind, Brandt.  They are not an organization like we would think of.  They are more like an international Maven’s Guild.  They are experts at what they do.  Not all of them are evil, but neither are all of them good as well.”

Rhema spoke up to further her father’s questions.  She was largely confused by Ausaphaborishan’s explanation.  “Experts?  I am sure that whoever caused this kind of destruction is indeed at expert at dealing with fiery destruction!  But why would bunch of experts do this?”

Brandt continued the explanation now that Ausaphaborishan had clarified his earlier point.  “The Ephistaemi pride themselves on being able to get into places where other people intend to keep them out.  They delight in accomplishing the once thought impossible.  Yet they are not all evil, greedy, self-motivated demolition experts as one might suspect from the example before us.  The driving force of the Ephistaemi is the ability to defeat the challenge and thus earn the rewards.  Sometimes their skills are hired legitimately to accomplish an honorable task.  As we can see before us, there are those among their ranks who take less than upstanding jobs on the side.”

Rhema’s father’s face turned red with anger.  “This destruction was done for the sake of the challenge?  I have lost everything simply because it was nearly impossible to pull the task off?”

Brandt rubbed his chin as he thought of the proper words to use in reply.  As he did, Rhema reached out and stroked her father’s shoulders to help calm him down.  She spoke lightly to him once she felt the tense muscles under his cloak.  “Father, please.  Brandt and Ausaphaborishan are not at fault, here.  They know no more about why this happened than we do.”

Brandt continued once Rhema was done trying to soothe her father’s fury.  “The Ephistaemi do not have a collective purpose.  They are more like a clearinghouse for unique jobs.  I have heard of tortured people joining the Ephistaemi to apprentice under a master so that they can become skilled in whatever means they wish to execute their revenge.  I’ve heard of thieves joining the Ephistaemi simply because they believe it is honorable to steal from the wealthy in order to demonstrate just how insecure the wealth standing is of the nobility.  There are members of the Ephistaemi who join so that they have an avenue to be a private investigator or even a spy.  Not all the Ephistaemi are bad or join for the wrong reasons.  About the only thing that is true about the whole collective of Ephistaemi is that they join because their talents are often in rare supply and they involve skills that you wouldn’t want to publicly announce.  Even good skills, like those of a bounty hunter who is hired to find a kidnapped child, could be found within the ranks of the Ephistaemi.  The Ephistaemi are secretive, but not necessarily evil in total.”

Charis spoke from her position just outside the rest of the party.  “But what I hear you saying is that although a member of the Ephistaemi may have done this that it wasn’t because the Ephistaemi wanted it done.”

Ausaphaborishan chuckled and a deep rumble spread across the land covered in ash.  “You would make Llywessiar proud, Charis.  That is precisely what Brandt is saying.  The Ephistaemi are merely the collectors of talent for hire.  If this was indeed an Ephistaemi led job, then there is probably someone more significant who wanted it accomplished.  That person would likely not be a member of the Ephistaemi.  Furthermore, if this was done by the Ephistaemi you can bet that the person who wanted it done has wealth or power.”

Brandt smiled and quickly added to the wyrm’s comment.  “Or, perhaps they have both.”

Rhema’s father continued to pour through the new information in his mind as it was presented.  “Be that as it may, but who would benefit from the destruction of this villa?  The red wyrm is dead!  From an economic perspective, the people of Huetown benefit enormously from the training process that goes on here.  Lord Ironblood is paid well for his silence and certainly he doesn’t want to lose out on my patronage.  Nobody else besides those who are trained here should even know of what goes on in this place!”

Brandt scratched his chin.  “Grick is still serving time in Lord Ironblood’s jail in Fingerdale, correct?”

Ischarus nodded.  “As far as I could tell, yes.  And that’s assuming that you can trust Warden Farette and Captain Jacobseille.”

The foursome smiled at the instant memory of the past events when Ischarus was thrown in jail.  Semeion replied in all sincerity to Ischarus’ assertion as he realized that his feelings had mellowed over time.  “Yes, and in spite of locking up an innocent man for a short period of time they did get it right in the end.  You can’t really fault them for doing their job, that’s for sure.”

Brandt grinned as if he understood a private inside joke.  “No, that much is very true.  Captain Jacobseille and the warden are quite thorough.  That is probably why Lord Ironblood has kept them in service for all this time.”

Charis also smiled at the memory.  “And with any luck, they will continue to serve.  But either way, as far as we know Grick is still in jail and will remain there for several more years because he attempted to kill more than once.”

Brandt looked down once more to the dagger.  “Something doesn’t feel right, then.  If we assume for a moment that this was an Ephistaemi attack, then there has to be a grand motivation to bring this about.  This destruction would have cost a small fortune or a tremendously large favor in exchange.  Something must have brought this about.”

Every one of the four party members shook their head in disbelief.  None of them had any answers.  The significant threats had already been removed from the equation.  Those threats that remained should not have had enough justification to cause this type of destruction.

Rhema turned to her father and looked deep into his eyes.  He had gained a remarkable composure since his earlier outbursts.  She felt his tension ease as everyone shared in the unbelievable truth that lay at their feet in the form of ash.  The more the answers eluded the gathered party the more Rhema’s father could share in the frustration.  When Rhema understood that her father was more able to honestly answer questions she decided to speak.  “Father, there is no figure from your past that might have brought this about is there?  We are almost positive that the destruction did not come through the adventures into Quehalost of the four of us.  If we can assume that the villa was not burned by someone who stood against just Ischarus and myself, then could it have been from your past?”

Rhema’s father shook his head slowly.  “That is unlikely.  For the past four years I have been intentionally inactive.  For many years before that I was only active in a few minor political circles.  I doubt that there are many people in the world who are not on my payroll and who still remember that I exist!”

Brandt lightly gripped the tip of the blade of the dagger between the ends of his index finger and his thumb.  He looked once more at the blade in his hand and then extended the handle to Rhema’s father.  “I believe this is yours, sir.  And I believe that we have a certain mystery on hand.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Two: DECEPTION REVEALED

Ischarus looked up from the markings along the dagger’s face and handle. “It’s nothing that I have seen before. I mean, it’s a ceremonial dagger, of course. But I’ve never seen these markings.” Slowly Ischarus walked back towards the party. He turned the dagger over several times in his hands in an attempt to look for any other evidence of hidden symbols. He couldn’t find any.

Semeion met him half way and extended out his hand to receive the dagger. “Do you mind if I take a look? I have studied arcane symbols to some extent.” Of course, Semeion completely forgot that Brandt and Ausaphaborishan were present and would likely have been able to recognize any symbol that Semeion could identify. He shook his head slowly and handed the blade back to Ischarus. “Nope, I don’t really recognize it either. It’s clearly a hidden message of some kind. The crescent moon is etched in outline only and the engraving of the dagger is no less basic in design.”

Brandt’s eyes narrowed as Semeion spoke of the symbol. “I’m sorry, did you say crescent moon and dagger?” His voice betrayed a subtle tone of alarm.

Semeion turned his head around sharply at Brandt’s intrusion. “Yeah. It’s a crescent moon with a dagger plunged halfway though it. Does that symbol mean something to you?”

Brandt looked up to Ausaphaborishan. He noticed that the dragon appeared as worried as he felt. “If it is what I think it is, then you have found a ceremonial dagger of the Ephistaemi. And, no, that is not a good thing.”

Rhema’s father stepped towards Semeion and held out his hand to receive the blade. Rhema was not more than a step behind him when the man spoke to Brandt. “But I have never heard of such a people. Are they a race? And what could they have against me?”

Brandt smiled at the simple questions. “No, the Ephistaemi are not a race of people. The best way to describe them is that they are an organization.”

Ausaphaborishan’s deep and rumbling voice interrupted Brandt from above. “You are being much to kind, Brandt. They are not an organization like we would think of. They are more like an international Maven’s Guild. They are experts at what they do. Not all of them are evil, but neither are all of them good as well.”

Rhema spoke up to further her father’s questions. She was largely confused by Ausaphaborishan’s explanation. “Experts? I am sure that whoever caused this kind of destruction is indeed at expert at dealing with fiery destruction! But why would bunch of experts do this?”

Brandt continued the explanation now that Ausaphaborishan had clarified his earlier point. “The Ephistaemi pride themselves on being able to get into places where other people intend to keep them out. They delight in accomplishing the once thought impossible. Yet they are not all evil, greedy, self-motivated demolition experts as one might suspect from the example before us. The driving force of the Ephistaemi is the ability to defeat the challenge and thus earn the rewards. Sometimes their skills are hired legitimately to accomplish an honorable task. As we can see before us, there are those among their ranks who take less than upstanding jobs on the side.”

Rhema’s father’s face turned red with anger. “This destruction was done for the sake of the challenge? I have lost everything simply because it was nearly impossible to pull the task off?”

Brandt rubbed his chin as he thought of the proper words to use in reply. As he did, Rhema reached out and stroked her father’s shoulders to help calm him down. She spoke lightly to him once she felt the tense muscles under his cloak. “Father, please. Brandt and Ausaphaborishan are not at fault, here. They know no more about why this happened than we do.”

Brandt continued once Rhema was done trying to soothe her father’s fury. “The Ephistaemi do not have a collective purpose. They are more like a clearinghouse for unique jobs. I have heard of tortured people joining the Ephistaemi to apprentice under a master so that they can become skilled in whatever means they wish to execute their revenge. I’ve heard of thieves joining the Ephistaemi simply because they believe it is honorable to steal from the wealthy in order to demonstrate just how insecure the wealth standing is of the nobility. There are members of the Ephistaemi who join so that they have an avenue to be a private investigator or even a spy. Not all the Ephistaemi are bad or join for the wrong reasons. About the only thing that is true about the whole collective of Ephistaemi is that they join because their talents are often in rare supply and they involve skills that you wouldn’t want to publicly announce. Even good skills, like those of a bounty hunter who is hired to find a kidnapped child, could be found within the ranks of the Ephistaemi. The Ephistaemi are secretive, but not necessarily evil in total.”

Charis spoke from her position just outside the rest of the party. “But what I hear you saying is that although a member of the Ephistaemi may have done this that it wasn’t because the Ephistaemi wanted it done.”

Ausaphaborishan chuckled and a deep rumble spread across the land covered in ash. “You would make Llywessiar proud, Charis. That is precisely what Brandt is saying. The Ephistaemi are merely the collectors of talent for hire. If this was indeed an Ephistaemi led job, then there is probably someone more significant who wanted it accomplished. That person would likely not be a member of the Ephistaemi. Furthermore, if this was done by the Ephistaemi you can bet that the person who wanted it done has wealth or power.”

Brandt smiled and quickly added to the wyrm’s comment. “Or, perhaps they have both.”

Rhema’s father continued to pour through the new information in his mind as it was presented. “Be that as it may, but who would benefit from the destruction of this villa? The red wyrm is dead! From an economic perspective, the people of Huetown benefit enormously from the training process that goes on here. Lord Ironblood is paid well for his silence and certainly he doesn’t want to lose out on my patronage. Nobody else besides those who are trained here should even know of what goes on in this place!”

Brandt scratched his chin. “Grick is still serving time in Lord Ironblood’s jail in Fingerdale, correct?”

Ischarus nodded. “As far as I could tell, yes. And that’s assuming that you can trust Warden Farette and Captain Jacobseille.”

The foursome smiled at the instant memory of the past events when Ischarus was thrown in jail. Semeion replied in all sincerity to Ischarus’ assertion as he realized that his feelings had mellowed over time. “Yes, and in spite of locking up an innocent man for a short period of time they did get it right in the end. You can’t really fault them for doing their job, that’s for sure.”

Brandt grinned as if he understood a private inside joke. “No, that much is very true. Captain Jacobseille and the warden are quite thorough. That is probably why Lord Ironblood has kept them in service for all this time.”

Charis also smiled at the memory. “And with any luck, they will continue to serve. But either way, as far as we know Grick is still in jail and will remain there for several more years because he attempted to kill more than once.”

Brandt looked down once more to the dagger. “Something doesn’t feel right, then. If we assume for a moment that this was an Ephistaemi attack, then there has to be a grand motivation to bring this about. This destruction would have cost a small fortune or a tremendously large favor in exchange. Something must have brought this about.”

Every one of the four party members shook their head in disbelief. None of them had any answers. The significant threats had already been removed from the equation. Those threats that remained should not have had enough justification to cause this type of destruction.

Rhema turned to her father and looked deep into his eyes. He had gained a remarkable composure since his earlier outbursts. She felt his tension ease as everyone shared in the unbelievable truth that lay at their feet in the form of ash. The more the answers eluded the gathered party the more Rhema’s father could share in the frustration. When Rhema understood that her father was more able to honestly answer questions she decided to speak. “Father, there is no figure from your past that might have brought this about is there? We are almost positive that the destruction did not come through the adventures into Quehalost of the four of us. If we can assume that the villa was not burned by someone who stood against just Ischarus and myself, then could it have been from your past?”

Rhema’s father shook his head slowly. “That is unlikely. For the past four years I have been intentionally inactive. For many years before that I was only active in a few minor political circles. I doubt that there are many people in the world who are not on my payroll and who still remember that I exist!”

Brandt lightly gripped the tip of the blade of the dagger between the ends of his index finger and his thumb. He looked once more at the blade in his hand and then extended the handle to Rhema’s father. “I believe this is yours, sir. And I believe that we have a certain mystery on hand.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 25, 2007)

Semeion spoke with confidence as he tried to get the group to forget about the dagger for the moment.  “Listen.  I don’t think that we’ll be able to do anything about the dagger or the Ephistaemi until we head into Fingerdale and perhaps scrounge up some information.  I say we start looking around the villa and see if there are any more accidental clues that are left behind.”

Brandt nodded and spoke next.  “Actually, I think that I’m going to use the time and research the Ephistaemi a bit if I can.  I’ll teleport back to my office in the temple in Fingerdale and see what the other priests might make of this.  Ausaphaborishan, are you going to stay here for protection?”

The dragon nodded his head, “I certainly can if my presence is needed.”

Rhema’s father turned around where he stood and spoke in reply to the dragon.  “There’s not much point in you staying around, Ausaphaborishan.  The ground looks calm.  If there was going to be any kind of ambush, I’d have expected it when we arrived.”

Rhema contradicted her father’s words.  “Yet, they might be afraid of Ausaphaborishan’s presence.  If he leaves, anyone waiting to strike might just do so.”

Rhema’s father looked at her daughter with eyes of respect in regard to the wisdom contained in her words.  However, in the same look from his eyes he also looked like a father figure expecting to win over the words of a child.  “Even so, Rhema, there is nothing here to keep us anymore.  If Ausaphaborishan is capable of sending us the horses that we used to get to his valley there is no reason we simply couldn’t flee from any threat.  The rest of the stuff we brought with us could be sent home with the Drakontai who were working at the villa but went for the wedding.  They can spend the week on horseback traveling back here with our supplies.”

Charis nodded in agreement knowing full well that the majority of those Drakontai were her immediate kin through her dragon father.  “Besides, there’s not much for them to do here anyway.  If they take a week in coming and we have our horses here, we can have a good bit of the villa’s rubble removed and get the site prepared for a new building.  Their arrival would correspond to when we rebuild.”

Rhema’s father smiled politely and looked to the ground.  “That’s mighty kind of you to offer, Charis.  But you all have work to do.  This here was my home.  You all need not worry about it.  I can hire people to help rebuild it.”

Ischarus grinned at the man’s words.  “With all due respect, sir.”  His voice hesitated before he spoke the last word.  His mind thought about calling Rhema’s father by the title of dad, but somehow it just didn’t seem to fight the context.  “This here was not only your home but Rhema’s.  And by virtue of it being Rhema’s home that means it now is seen as my home as well.  You certainly can’t expect Rhema and I to just leave.  And you can’t expect Charis and Semeion to go without us!”

Semeion put his thin arm around Ischarus’ shoulder.  “Yep, that means that you are stuck with us for a while.  Besides, if we’re going to get to the heart of why this has happened, we’ve got to stay in the area before the trail gets too cold.  If we go about a journey into Quehalost now, there would be no way that we could follow the trail once we got back.”

Rhema hugged her father.  “See, dad?  It looks like you are stuck with us.  We’re not going anywhere until we’ve got some kind of lead.”  Rhema’s father didn’t reply except to embrace his daughter in return.

Charis looked back around to the rest of the farm.  “But, I agree with what Semeion already said.  We’ve spent enough time for now on that dagger.  We should go about the rest of the farm.  I think we’ll manage from here, Ausaphaborishan.  Please give my regards to my dragon father.”

The dragon smiled and patted Charis lightly upon her head with his massive front clawed foot.  “If you all are sure of this, then I will return to my valley and leave you in peace.”

Ischarus looked up to his dragon father.  “As always, your tremendous service as honored us.  But when you sent me out into the world you told me that there would be many things that I need to accomplish without your help.  This task is something that we can do.  You have more pressing matters, I’m sure.”

The wyrm nodded and looked to the east.  “I do in fact have other duties that I could attend to, and I am sure that Llywessiar will stay in my valley until I return.  If I were to go back now I would release him and enable him and his people to go.”  The dragon nodded once more, gave the magical command word, and vanished.

Once the dragon left the area of the burned villa, the party began to assign different forces for assessment.  Rhema, Semeion, and Rhema’s father sifted through the damage surrounding the villa.  Their hope was to pick anything out of the ash and stone from the ruined house that could be salvaged or even reused when the villa was to be reconstructed.  Besides to blackened fieldstone there was little else to find.

Charis and Ischarus were assigned to search through the fields and surrounding area.  The ash across the fields was might lighter than near where the villa had burned.  Fortunately there was not enough plant material in the fields to add to the ash.  Instead, the task of Charis and Ischarus was to see if the entire crops were lost and if the fields could be replanted without doing much work to the ground.

When Ausaphaborishan had been gone for almost ten minutes the horses suddenly appeared just to the east of the villa.  The sudden appearance of five horses startled Semeion, Rhema, and Rhema’s father because they were so close to the horses when they appeared.  Fortunately, the horses did not attempt to flee out of being spooked by the sudden teleportation.  Rhema’s father quickly gathered up the horses’ reigns and began walking them to the nearest edge of the forest.  There was nothing remaining outside the forest that would serve as a tie down for the horses.

Semeion and Rhema were left alone in the ash of the ruin when they heard a mysterious voice from behind.  The voice was feminine, but clearly filled with anger.  “I want my dagger back, and I’m willing to kill you for it.”

Rhema and Semeion spun around to face the newcomer.  Neither of them had heard her approach.  She must have used a similar teleportation trick that Brandt and Ausaphaborishan had managed.  Rhema let out a cry of surprise as she spun around and saw their adversary.  “Ischarus!”

The woman standing before Semeion and Rhema wore a dark cloak.  As Rhema and Semeion turned, the woman flashed her hand to her belt where she drew a dagger that matched the one that Ischarus had found earlier.  Only five feet separated Rhema and Semeion from the woman.  Both Rhema and Semeion could easily see the etching upon the side of the blade.  The dagger was etched with a crescent moon and a dagger plunging through it.  She worked for the Ephistaemi.

As the woman drew her blade, Semeion caught sight of a small gold pendant resting atop her chest.  The pendant was suspended from a thick gold chain that hung around her neck.  Semeion didn’t recognize the symbol, but he knew enough about jewelry to have a hunch as to what the symbol might represent.  He spoke bitterly at the sight of the pendant.  “Careful, Rhema.  This one looks to be protected by the gods.”

Before either Rhema or Semeion could react, the woman spoke in a low tone of chant.  “Para Doithican Fael-tru.”  The woman seemingly blinked out of existence and disappeared.

Semeion drew his rapier and gave a shout to Rhema.  “Move back.  There’s no way that she can attack both of us if we get far enough away.”  Semeion stepped a couple of feet in a direction away from the route that Ischarus would be coming from to help.  He hoped that this would force Rhema to step a couple of feet in the direction toward help.

Rhema responded with a nod and moved as Semeion hoped.  When she saw Semeion draw his rapier she likewise drew her own azure colored crystalline short sword.  She braced herself with the sword in front of her, although she didn’t know from which direction that the attack would come.

After several seconds the woman materialized out of thin air immediately before Rhema.  She sliced at the arm that held Rhema’s sword and connected with little difficulty.  The woman had caught Rhema off-guard in spite of Rhema’s intent on keeping from being surprised.  A thick line of dark red blood followed the path of the woman’s dagger across Rhema’s arm.  Several droplets of blood splattered through the air and landed among the deep ash that rested upon the ground.

Knowing that he was not the focus of the attack, Semeion shifted his rapier to his left hand and gestured with his now empty right hand.  His voice matched the chanting tone of the woman and he began to use his own magic.  “Thin-tok arash.” 

Instead of the typical blue energy that Rhema had been accustomed to seeing dance down Semeion’s arm to his hand, this time a green energy sparked down his skin to the tips of his fingers.  The energy formed a ball, burst forward, and struck the woman from behind.  Instantly smoke began to form along the back of her cloak as the green acid seeped through her clothing and burned at the flesh of her back.  Semeion cheered as his magic worked.  “I’ve got several new tricks up my sleeve!”

Rhema smiled at the upgraded magic that Semeion used.  She focused on the woman who was attacking her and spoke in a commanding tone.  “Get away from me and fear my presence!”

The robed woman smiled and began to chuckle.  “You had better hope that your mind tricks work soon, because in a couple more strikes I’ll have killed you outright!”  She sliced once more at Rhema, but this time Rhema was prepared for the attack and could see it coming.  Rhema parried the blow from the dagger with her sword.

Semeion reached back into his traditional bag of tricks and pulled out another spell.  He had already tried something new, now it was time to go back to his old favorite spell.  “Thin-tok!”  The familiar blue energy leapt down his arm and formed a blue energy ball at his fingertips.  He threw the ball towards the cloaked woman and the ball collided with her back.  Semeion watched as the acid from the previous attack continued to smolder through her cloak.  To his surprise, another set of energy sparks formed along his arm and leapt into an additional ball at the tips of his fingers.  He yelled once more as he threw the second ball and hit the woman again.  “Apparently I’ve gotten more upgrades than even I knew about!”

Rhema laughed again as she refocused her mental powers.  She tried the same mental trick as the last time.  Her voice lowered in anger and frustration as she called out in fury.  “I told you to leave me alone!  Now get away from me before I have to seriously hurt you!”

The woman smirked again and replied.  “That’s two failed attempts to control me with your mind powers.  I can keep this up all day.”  The woman drew her lips back in a flashy smile and spoke her magical words once more.  “Para Doithican Fael-tru.”  As happened the last time she spoke the words, the woman vanished into thin air.

Semeion pointed behind Rhema to Ischarus.  Rhema’s husband was charging across the nearest field toward the villa.  Semeion yelled a command to Rhema.  “Run to him.  She’s going to reappear, but if you run away you’ll keep her from being able to strike you solidly until Ischarus can come to your aid.”

Rhema decided to follow Semeion’s advice.  She turned her back to where the woman had just stood and began a full fledged retreat toward the charging Ischarus.  Suddenly the blade of the dagger appeared out of the air and swiped at Rhema’s retreating back.  

The blade missed by a considerable margin and the robed woman popped into full view.  Rather than give pursuit toward Rhema, the woman turned around and faced Semeion.  She casually approached him and challenged him as she prepared to strike.  “Your magic will eventually run out, and then I shall have you as a sacrifice.”  Her dagger slashed through the air and caught Semeion across the shoulder.  

Semeion winced in pain but managed.  He had a few more blows left in him.  “Not before my friends arrive, though.  And once they are here you will not last long.”  When the woman had closed for combat he had switched the rapier back into his right hand.  He used the blade to pierce the air, but the woman twisted out of the way. His blow caught nothing but air.   

The woman responded to Semeion’s slice through the air with one of her own.  Semeion easily parried the blow with his longer blade.  He set himself to respond to the attack when suddenly a flash of movement to his left caught his eye.

A dog raced across the ground and leapt up to tear at the woman’s arm.  The dog’s hair was a normal dark brown in color, although it almost seemed to radiate a golden hue.  The jaws of the beast clamped down onto the woman’s left arm and she began to bleed.  She cried out in both pain and surprise at the speed and ferocity of the dog.  She completely missed the end of the pick that arced through the air.

Charis had heard Rhema’s initial cry for help.  She had run towards the burned out villa as fast as her legs could carry her.  When she approached within striking distance she had called upon her powers to bring the dog to help her in combat.  Together, the dog and Charis managed to take the woman by surprise.  The end of her pick lodged itself just under the woman’s right shoulder.  The intense pain from the dog blow and the force of the pick dropped the cloaked woman to the ground at Semeion’s feet.

Ischarus quickly arrived on the scene with Rhema returning right behind him.  “Are you both alright?”

Semeion glanced toward Ischarus before returning his gaze upon the fallen woman.  “We’re fine, Ischarus.  Although, I must admit that the help is greatly appreciated.”  He nursed his sore shoulder as he spoke.

Charis bent down to the woman’s side and placed her hand upon the dog’s back.  “Your service has been much appreciated, Arbok.  Give my regards to our god.”  Charis closed her eyes slowly and nodded to the dog in a dismissal.  The dog vanished in much the same way as the party had used in teleporting into this place.

Ischarus bent down beside Charis.  “Will she live for questioning?”  He pulled a short rope out of his backpack as he spoke.

Charis placed her hand over the woman’s shoulder.  She had lost a significant amount of blood between the pick wound and the dog bite.  “Bondras-tol”  She watched as a golden light radiated from her palm and passed through her fingers into the woman’s shoulders.  A pleased expression passed across Charis’ face.  “She will, now.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion spoke with confidence as he tried to get the group to forget about the dagger for the moment. “Listen. I don’t think that we’ll be able to do anything about the dagger or the Ephistaemi until we head into Fingerdale and perhaps scrounge up some information. I say we start looking around the villa and see if there are any more accidental clues that are left behind.”

Brandt nodded and spoke next. “Actually, I think that I’m going to use the time and research the Ephistaemi a bit if I can. I’ll teleport back to my office in the temple in Fingerdale and see what the other priests might make of this. Ausaphaborishan, are you going to stay here for protection?”

The dragon nodded his head, “I certainly can if my presence is needed.”

Rhema’s father turned around where he stood and spoke in reply to the dragon. “There’s not much point in you staying around, Ausaphaborishan. The ground looks calm. If there was going to be any kind of ambush, I’d have expected it when we arrived.”

Rhema contradicted her father’s words. “Yet, they might be afraid of Ausaphaborishan’s presence. If he leaves, anyone waiting to strike might just do so.”

Rhema’s father looked at her daughter with eyes of respect in regard to the wisdom contained in her words. However, in the same look from his eyes he also looked like a father figure expecting to win over the words of a child. “Even so, Rhema, there is nothing here to keep us anymore. If Ausaphaborishan is capable of sending us the horses that we used to get to his valley there is no reason we simply couldn’t flee from any threat. The rest of the stuff we brought with us could be sent home with the Drakontai who were working at the villa but went for the wedding. They can spend the week on horseback traveling back here with our supplies.”

Charis nodded in agreement knowing full well that the majority of those Drakontai were her immediate kin through her dragon father. “Besides, there’s not much for them to do here anyway. If they take a week in coming and we have our horses here, we can have a good bit of the villa’s rubble removed and get the site prepared for a new building. Their arrival would correspond to when we rebuild.”

Rhema’s father smiled politely and looked to the ground. “That’s mighty kind of you to offer, Charis. But you all have work to do. This here was my home. You all need not worry about it. I can hire people to help rebuild it.”

Ischarus grinned at the man’s words. “With all due respect, sir.” His voice hesitated before he spoke the last word. His mind thought about calling Rhema’s father by the title of dad, but somehow it just didn’t seem to fight the context. “This here was not only your home but Rhema’s. And by virtue of it being Rhema’s home that means it now is seen as my home as well. You certainly can’t expect Rhema and I to just leave. And you can’t expect Charis and Semeion to go without us!”

Semeion put his thin arm around Ischarus’ shoulder. “Yep, that means that you are stuck with us for a while. Besides, if we’re going to get to the heart of why this has happened, we’ve got to stay in the area before the trail gets too cold. If we go about a journey into Quehalost now, there would be no way that we could follow the trail once we got back.”

Rhema hugged her father. “See, dad? It looks like you are stuck with us. We’re not going anywhere until we’ve got some kind of lead.” Rhema’s father didn’t reply except to embrace his daughter in return.

Charis looked back around to the rest of the farm. “But, I agree with what Semeion already said. We’ve spent enough time for now on that dagger. We should go about the rest of the farm. I think we’ll manage from here, Ausaphaborishan. Please give my regards to my dragon father.”

The dragon smiled and patted Charis lightly upon her head with his massive front clawed foot. “If you all are sure of this, then I will return to my valley and leave you in peace.”

Ischarus looked up to his dragon father. “As always, your tremendous service as honored us. But when you sent me out into the world you told me that there would be many things that I need to accomplish without your help. This task is something that we can do. You have more pressing matters, I’m sure.”

The wyrm nodded and looked to the east. “I do in fact have other duties that I could attend to, and I am sure that Llywessiar will stay in my valley until I return. If I were to go back now I would release him and enable him and his people to go.” The dragon nodded once more, gave the magical command word, and vanished.

Once the dragon left the area of the burned villa, the party began to assign different forces for assessment. Rhema, Semeion, and Rhema’s father sifted through the damage surrounding the villa. Their hope was to pick anything out of the ash and stone from the ruined house that could be salvaged or even reused when the villa was to be reconstructed. Besides to blackened fieldstone there was little else to find.

Charis and Ischarus were assigned to search through the fields and surrounding area. The ash across the fields was might lighter than near where the villa had burned. Fortunately there was not enough plant material in the fields to add to the ash. Instead, the task of Charis and Ischarus was to see if the entire crops were lost and if the fields could be replanted without doing much work to the ground.

When Ausaphaborishan had been gone for almost ten minutes the horses suddenly appeared just to the east of the villa. The sudden appearance of five horses startled Semeion, Rhema, and Rhema’s father because they were so close to the horses when they appeared. Fortunately, the horses did not attempt to flee out of being spooked by the sudden teleportation. Rhema’s father quickly gathered up the horses’ reigns and began walking them to the nearest edge of the forest. There was nothing remaining outside the forest that would serve as a tie down for the horses.

Semeion and Rhema were left alone in the ash of the ruin when they heard a mysterious voice from behind. The voice was feminine, but clearly filled with anger. “I want my dagger back, and I’m willing to kill you for it.”

Rhema and Semeion spun around to face the newcomer. Neither of them had heard her approach. She must have used a similar teleportation trick that Brandt and Ausaphaborishan had managed. Rhema let out a cry of surprise as she spun around and saw their adversary. “Ischarus!”

The woman standing before Semeion and Rhema wore a dark cloak. As Rhema and Semeion turned, the woman flashed her hand to her belt where she drew a dagger that matched the one that Ischarus had found earlier. Only five feet separated Rhema and Semeion from the woman. Both Rhema and Semeion could easily see the etching upon the side of the blade. The dagger was etched with a crescent moon and a dagger plunging through it. She worked for the Ephistaemi.

As the woman drew her blade, Semeion caught sight of a small gold pendant resting atop her chest. The pendant was suspended from a thick gold chain that hung around her neck. Semeion didn’t recognize the symbol, but he knew enough about jewelry to have a hunch as to what the symbol might represent. He spoke bitterly at the sight of the pendant. “Careful, Rhema. This one looks to be protected by the gods.”

Before either Rhema or Semeion could react, the woman spoke in a low tone of chant. “Para Doithican Fael-tru.” The woman seemingly blinked out of existence and disappeared.

Semeion drew his rapier and gave a shout to Rhema. “Move back. There’s no way that she can attack both of us if we get far enough away.” Semeion stepped a couple of feet in a direction away from the route that Ischarus would be coming from to help. He hoped that this would force Rhema to step a couple of feet in the direction toward help.

Rhema responded with a nod and moved as Semeion hoped. When she saw Semeion draw his rapier she likewise drew her own azure colored crystalline short sword. She braced herself with the sword in front of her, although she didn’t know from which direction that the attack would come.

After several seconds the woman materialized out of thin air immediately before Rhema. She sliced at the arm that held Rhema’s sword and connected with little difficulty. The woman had caught Rhema off-guard in spite of Rhema’s intent on keeping from being surprised. A thick line of dark red blood followed the path of the woman’s dagger across Rhema’s arm. Several droplets of blood splattered through the air and landed among the deep ash that rested upon the ground.

Knowing that he was not the focus of the attack, Semeion shifted his rapier to his left hand and gestured with his now empty right hand. His voice matched the chanting tone of the woman and he began to use his own magic. “Thin-tok arash.” 

Instead of the typical blue energy that Rhema had been accustomed to seeing dance down Semeion’s arm to his hand, this time a green energy sparked down his skin to the tips of his fingers. The energy formed a ball, burst forward, and struck the woman from behind. Instantly smoke began to form along the back of her cloak as the green acid seeped through her clothing and burned at the flesh of her back. Semeion cheered as his magic worked. “I’ve got several new tricks up my sleeve!”

Rhema smiled at the upgraded magic that Semeion used. She focused on the woman who was attacking her and spoke in a commanding tone. “Get away from me and fear my presence!”

The robed woman smiled and began to chuckle. “You had better hope that your mind tricks work soon, because in a couple more strikes I’ll have killed you outright!” She sliced once more at Rhema, but this time Rhema was prepared for the attack and could see it coming. Rhema parried the blow from the dagger with her sword.

Semeion reached back into his traditional bag of tricks and pulled out another spell. He had already tried something new, now it was time to go back to his old favorite spell. “Thin-tok!” The familiar blue energy leapt down his arm and formed a blue energy ball at his fingertips. He threw the ball towards the cloaked woman and the ball collided with her back. Semeion watched as the acid from the previous attack continued to smolder through her cloak. To his surprise, another set of energy sparks formed along his arm and leapt into an additional ball at the tips of his fingers. He yelled once more as he threw the second ball and hit the woman again. “Apparently I’ve gotten more upgrades than even I knew about!”

Rhema laughed again as she refocused her mental powers. She tried the same mental trick as the last time. Her voice lowered in anger and frustration as she called out in fury. “I told you to leave me alone! Now get away from me before I have to seriously hurt you!”

The woman smirked again and replied. “That’s two failed attempts to control me with your mind powers. I can keep this up all day.” The woman drew her lips back in a flashy smile and spoke her magical words once more. “Para Doithican Fael-tru.” As happened the last time she spoke the words, the woman vanished into thin air.

Semeion pointed behind Rhema to Ischarus. Rhema’s husband was charging across the nearest field toward the villa. Semeion yelled a command to Rhema. “Run to him. She’s going to reappear, but if you run away you’ll keep her from being able to strike you solidly until Ischarus can come to your aid.”

Rhema decided to follow Semeion’s advice. She turned her back to where the woman had just stood and began a full fledged retreat toward the charging Ischarus. Suddenly the blade of the dagger appeared out of the air and swiped at Rhema’s retreating back. 

The blade missed by a considerable margin and the robed woman popped into full view. Rather than give pursuit toward Rhema, the woman turned around and faced Semeion. She casually approached him and challenged him as she prepared to strike. “Your magic will eventually run out, and then I shall have you as a sacrifice.” Her dagger slashed through the air and caught Semeion across the shoulder. 

Semeion winced in pain but managed. He had a few more blows left in him. “Not before my friends arrive, though. And once they are here you will not last long.” When the woman had closed for combat he had switched the rapier back into his right hand. He used the blade to pierce the air, but the woman twisted out of the way. His blow caught nothing but air. 

The woman responded to Semeion’s slice through the air with one of her own. Semeion easily parried the blow with his longer blade. He set himself to respond to the attack when suddenly a flash of movement to his left caught his eye.

A dog raced across the ground and leapt up to tear at the woman’s arm. The dog’s hair was a normal dark brown in color, although it almost seemed to radiate a golden hue. The jaws of the beast clamped down onto the woman’s left arm and she began to bleed. She cried out in both pain and surprise at the speed and ferocity of the dog. She completely missed the end of the pick that arced through the air.

Charis had heard Rhema’s initial cry for help. She had run towards the burned out villa as fast as her legs could carry her. When she approached within striking distance she had called upon her powers to bring the dog to help her in combat. Together, the dog and Charis managed to take the woman by surprise. The end of her pick lodged itself just under the woman’s right shoulder. The intense pain from the dog blow and the force of the pick dropped the cloaked woman to the ground at Semeion’s feet.

Ischarus quickly arrived on the scene with Rhema returning right behind him. “Are you both alright?”

Semeion glanced toward Ischarus before returning his gaze upon the fallen woman. “We’re fine, Ischarus. Although, I must admit that the help is greatly appreciated.” He nursed his sore shoulder as he spoke.

Charis bent down to the woman’s side and placed her hand upon the dog’s back. “Your service has been much appreciated, Arbok. Give my regards to our god.” Charis closed her eyes slowly and nodded to the dog in a dismissal. The dog vanished in much the same way as the party had used in teleporting into this place.

Ischarus bent down beside Charis. “Will she live for questioning?” He pulled a short rope out of his backpack as he spoke.

Charis placed her hand over the woman’s shoulder. She had lost a significant amount of blood between the pick wound and the dog bite. “Bondras-tol” She watched as a golden light radiated from her palm and passed through her fingers into the woman’s shoulders. A pleased expression passed across Charis’ face. “She will, now.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 28, 2007)

Rhema’s father had waited with the horses until he knew that the threat had passed.  He had once been a decent warrior, but he was currently unarmed and hadn’t practiced in a while.  He knew that staying with the horses was the wisest option given the current situation.  Once he saw Charis’ pick deal the telling blow and end the combat, Rhema’s father left the horses tied to the edge of the forest and returned as quickly as he could to the remains of the villa.

He approached the party and embraced his daughter with a large hug.  “I was so worried.  Are you alright?”

Rhema nodded and looked down to the woman lying on the ground.  “Yeah, I’m alright.  The woman wouldn’t succumb to my mental suggestions, though.  She must have been prepared for what was to come.”

Ischarus nodded and he finished tying the woman’s hands and slipped a gag over her mouth.  “I think that is absolutely likely.  She didn’t make herself known until Charis and I were away.  She waited until Brant and Ausaphaborishan left.  Her only mistake was going after Rhema instead of Semeion first.”

Semeion looked down to Ischarus and raised an eyebrow.  “Hey!  Just what do you mean by that?  I know that you just got married, but you want me to die instead?”

Ischarus chuckled.  “Oh, I didn’t mean anything personal.  All I meant was that if the woman knew she could withstand Rhema’s telepathic suggestions then she should’ve attacked you first.  You were the bigger threat to her.”

Charis slipped the protective leather covering over her pick once Ischarus finished tying the woman up.  “Yeah, but that’s not really saying much.”  Charis smiled innocently at Semeion as if to tease him with her expression in addition to her words.

Semeion smiled and looked around to the rest of the villa.  “Great.  So, now what do we do with her?”  His expression and his tone refused to give Charis the woundedness she was hoping for.

Rhema nodded with Semeion’s sentiment.  “Yeah, it isn’t like we have a place to spend the evening much less keep a prisoner.”

Charis turned to Rhema’s father and sought a more professional opinion.  “Do you think we could run her into Fingerdale and ask to have her locked up under the warden’s care?  We just got done saying that the warden was a legitimate guy in spite of locking Ischarus up behind bars for a few hours.”

Rhema’s father shook his head side to side, but he didn’t get a chance to speak before Ischarus added his own opinion.  “No.  We can’t trust anyone until we learn where the threat came from.  As far as we know, the threat could have come through the warden.  After all, I suppose Grick could have done enough talking to convince someone that we were dangerous.  If Grick is the leak, then it would make sense that the warden and the captain of the guard could be linked to this.”

Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows in thought as he spun out Ischarus’ suggestion in his mind.  “Now, wait a minute.  You aren’t actually saying that the captain of the guard of Fingerdale and the warden of Lord Ironblood’s person jail are in on this, are you?  If that’s the case, why don’t you simply say that Lord Ironblood is in on this as well?”

Ischarus smiled and stood up to his full height.  He looked down slightly to Semeion while he spoke.  “No, I don’t actually think that the warden or the jailer are in on this.  However, I do think that we can’t put our trust into too many places without knowing for certain where this threat came from.”

Rhema’s father continued Ischarus’ thought.  “Besides, both Brandt and Ausaphaborishan seemed convinced that if this were a true attack by a member of the Ephistaemi that there would be a significant financial source funding the attack.  Unless Lord Ironblood is less frugal than I know him to be, I do not think the warden or the captain of the guard have a high enough rate of pay to fund an attack like this.  The warden and the captain are no doubt well paid, but in order to make the attack go off in this manner there would have had to been significant funding.”

Charis looked down upon the woman lying in the center of the group.  She was clearly still unconscious and would likely remain in this manner for some time.  “Yet, just because the warden or the captain of the guard couldn’t fund it does not mean they might not have had a role to play.  If they passed along information about our dealing with Grick to the wrong person, then they might be involved without being the official source of the conflict.”

Semeion looked back down to the woman.  “Oh, what secrets you hold.  I can’t wait until you wake up and we can try and get them out of you.”  Semeion’s voice took on a tone that was full of pleasure.  He looked back up to the party and added to his conversation with the unconscious woman.  “Either way, we can’t even be sure that this attack originated with Grick.  It would make sense, but it may not be the only solution.  We dare not focus too long and hard on any particular solution or else we run the risk of blinding our minds to the other possibilities.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and turned her attention to the fields around the villa.  “Charis and Ischarus, what did you all find out about the fields?  How badly was the ground scorched?”

Charis pointed to the field that she had run across to get to the fight between Semeion, Rhema, and the mysterious woman.  “The plants are ruined, but we had really surmised that much last night.  The ground still looks well prepared for another planting.  The plants will be a few weeks behind, but I think we could replant and still make the harvest before the frost.”

Rhema’s father shook his head slightly from side to side.  “We’ll have to accept lower prices from the market, then.  If our crop comes in later than the rest of the farms then the market will already be saturated.  The prices will have come down from the initial spike.”

Ischarus turned to the field that he had run across.  “I saw the same thing.  The plants are burned and dead, but the ground is still viable.”  He turned back to look to Rhema’s father.  “With the reduced price, will we be able to recuperate the expense for growing the crop and paying the workers?”

Rhema’s father nodded affirmatively.  “Assuming you all help when you can and we can beat the frost, we should be able to make enough.”

Semeion smiled as a thought ran through his mind.  “Perhaps there is a magical solution to our dilemma?  Could magic be used to advance the plants and get them back to the place of growth that they should be at?”

Rhema’s father shook his head discouragingly.  “No, I will not stand for that.  Plants that have had magically induced growth produce fruit that looks the same, but the quality in taste is simply not the same.  Sure, you can live off of it.  It has the same healthy amount of nutrients.  But the flavor simply isn’t the same.  I can tell by taste when I am sold a fruit that has been grown the old fashioned way and when a fruit has been grown with magical enhancements.”

Ischarus looked once more down at the woman.  “Very well, then.  We’ll replant when the help arrives in a week.  But we still haven’t decided what to do with the woman.”

Charis looked to Rhema’s father.  “I’m assuming the woods will be safe enough to sleep in tonight?  We’ll just pretend we are in Quehalost and post watches.  The watches will need to keep track of her until we can find some kind of better solution.”

Semeion shook his head.  “The woods will be a fine answer for our sleeping tonight.  However, I think that we’ll not want to keep the woman with us.  We can only prevent her from casting a spell for so long.  One mistake and she’ll be invisible before we know it.  If she’s allowed to get invisible, then she’s gone.”

Rhema’s father looked back to Semeion.  “Well, then, what is it that you suggest?”

Semeion nodded slowly as his mind spun out a plan.  “Brandt.  Surely the temple in Fingerdale has a means for dealing with heretical divine agents.  They should be prepared to silence their opposition.”

Charis smiled.  “And by silence, I assume that you mean it quite literally?  They should be able to prevent her from summoning the power of her god and casting a spell.”

Rhema looked displeased as she spoke.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ischarus, but can we trust the temple in Fingerdale?  We spent a fair amount of time dealing with Brandt.  How do we know that one of the acolytes is not responsible for leaking information to bring this destruction about?”

Ischarus glanced back to Rhema with a confused look.  “You are actually thinking that a priest of my deity could be responsible for this?  Look at this woman!  If what you are saying is true then the implications are huge.  It would mean that my god is in league with an evil cult from which this member of the Ephistaemi has come.”

Semeion looked back to Ischarus.  “Careful, Ischarus.  Do not let your faith blind you.  We’re all capable of falling.  Every one of us has a button that can be pushed or a price tag to be bought.  But fundamentally I agree with you.  At this point we cannot trust many, especially of those who live in Fingerdale.  However, if we cannot trust the temple where Brandt has his office I do not know who we can trust.  If the temple is corrupt, then we are in far worse shape than we can possibly imagine.”

Charis replied conclusively.  “Then it is settled.  We plant in a week.  We sleep in the forest.  The woman goes with Brandt when he returns.”  Nobody objected to Charis’ summary, but Rhema looked skeptical as to whether the plan was wise.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema’s father had waited with the horses until he knew that the threat had passed. He had once been a decent warrior, but he was currently unarmed and hadn’t practiced in a while. He knew that staying with the horses was the wisest option given the current situation. Once he saw Charis’ pick deal the telling blow and end the combat, Rhema’s father left the horses tied to the edge of the forest and returned as quickly as he could to the remains of the villa.

He approached the party and embraced his daughter with a large hug. “I was so worried. Are you alright?”

Rhema nodded and looked down to the woman lying on the ground. “Yeah, I’m alright. The woman wouldn’t succumb to my mental suggestions, though. She must have been prepared for what was to come.”

Ischarus nodded and he finished tying the woman’s hands and slipped a gag over her mouth. “I think that is absolutely likely. She didn’t make herself known until Charis and I were away. She waited until Brant and Ausaphaborishan left. Her only mistake was going after Rhema instead of Semeion first.”

Semeion looked down to Ischarus and raised an eyebrow. “Hey! Just what do you mean by that? I know that you just got married, but you want me to die instead?”

Ischarus chuckled. “Oh, I didn’t mean anything personal. All I meant was that if the woman knew she could withstand Rhema’s telepathic suggestions then she should’ve attacked you first. You were the bigger threat to her.”

Charis slipped the protective leather covering over her pick once Ischarus finished tying the woman up. “Yeah, but that’s not really saying much.” Charis smiled innocently at Semeion as if to tease him with her expression in addition to her words.

Semeion smiled and looked around to the rest of the villa. “Great. So, now what do we do with her?” His expression and his tone refused to give Charis the woundedness she was hoping for.

Rhema nodded with Semeion’s sentiment. “Yeah, it isn’t like we have a place to spend the evening much less keep a prisoner.”

Charis turned to Rhema’s father and sought a more professional opinion. “Do you think we could run her into Fingerdale and ask to have her locked up under the warden’s care? We just got done saying that the warden was a legitimate guy in spite of locking Ischarus up behind bars for a few hours.”

Rhema’s father shook his head side to side, but he didn’t get a chance to speak before Ischarus added his own opinion. “No. We can’t trust anyone until we learn where the threat came from. As far as we know, the threat could have come through the warden. After all, I suppose Grick could have done enough talking to convince someone that we were dangerous. If Grick is the leak, then it would make sense that the warden and the captain of the guard could be linked to this.”

Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows in thought as he spun out Ischarus’ suggestion in his mind. “Now, wait a minute. You aren’t actually saying that the captain of the guard of Fingerdale and the warden of Lord Ironblood’s person jail are in on this, are you? If that’s the case, why don’t you simply say that Lord Ironblood is in on this as well?”

Ischarus smiled and stood up to his full height. He looked down slightly to Semeion while he spoke. “No, I don’t actually think that the warden or the jailer are in on this. However, I do think that we can’t put our trust into too many places without knowing for certain where this threat came from.”

Rhema’s father continued Ischarus’ thought. “Besides, both Brandt and Ausaphaborishan seemed convinced that if this were a true attack by a member of the Ephistaemi that there would be a significant financial source funding the attack. Unless Lord Ironblood is less frugal than I know him to be, I do not think the warden or the captain of the guard have a high enough rate of pay to fund an attack like this. The warden and the captain are no doubt well paid, but in order to make the attack go off in this manner there would have had to been significant funding.”

Charis looked down upon the woman lying in the center of the group. She was clearly still unconscious and would likely remain in this manner for some time. “Yet, just because the warden or the captain of the guard couldn’t fund it does not mean they might not have had a role to play. If they passed along information about our dealing with Grick to the wrong person, then they might be involved without being the official source of the conflict.”

Semeion looked back down to the woman. “Oh, what secrets you hold. I can’t wait until you wake up and we can try and get them out of you.” Semeion’s voice took on a tone that was full of pleasure. He looked back up to the party and added to his conversation with the unconscious woman. “Either way, we can’t even be sure that this attack originated with Grick. It would make sense, but it may not be the only solution. We dare not focus too long and hard on any particular solution or else we run the risk of blinding our minds to the other possibilities.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and turned her attention to the fields around the villa. “Charis and Ischarus, what did you all find out about the fields? How badly was the ground scorched?”

Charis pointed to the field that she had run across to get to the fight between Semeion, Rhema, and the mysterious woman. “The plants are ruined, but we had really surmised that much last night. The ground still looks well prepared for another planting. The plants will be a few weeks behind, but I think we could replant and still make the harvest before the frost.”

Rhema’s father shook his head slightly from side to side. “We’ll have to accept lower prices from the market, then. If our crop comes in later than the rest of the farms then the market will already be saturated. The prices will have come down from the initial spike.”

Ischarus turned to the field that he had run across. “I saw the same thing. The plants are burned and dead, but the ground is still viable.” He turned back to look to Rhema’s father. “With the reduced price, will we be able to recuperate the expense for growing the crop and paying the workers?”

Rhema’s father nodded affirmatively. “Assuming you all help when you can and we can beat the frost, we should be able to make enough.”

Semeion smiled as a thought ran through his mind. “Perhaps there is a magical solution to our dilemma? Could magic be used to advance the plants and get them back to the place of growth that they should be at?”

Rhema’s father shook his head discouragingly. “No, I will not stand for that. Plants that have had magically induced growth produce fruit that looks the same, but the quality in taste is simply not the same. Sure, you can live off of it. It has the same healthy amount of nutrients. But the flavor simply isn’t the same. I can tell by taste when I am sold a fruit that has been grown the old fashioned way and when a fruit has been grown with magical enhancements.”

Ischarus looked once more down at the woman. “Very well, then. We’ll replant when the help arrives in a week. But we still haven’t decided what to do with the woman.”

Charis looked to Rhema’s father. “I’m assuming the woods will be safe enough to sleep in tonight? We’ll just pretend we are in Quehalost and post watches. The watches will need to keep track of her until we can find some kind of better solution.”

Semeion shook his head. “The woods will be a fine answer for our sleeping tonight. However, I think that we’ll not want to keep the woman with us. We can only prevent her from casting a spell for so long. One mistake and she’ll be invisible before we know it. If she’s allowed to get invisible, then she’s gone.”

Rhema’s father looked back to Semeion. “Well, then, what is it that you suggest?”

Semeion nodded slowly as his mind spun out a plan. “Brandt. Surely the temple in Fingerdale has a means for dealing with heretical divine agents. They should be prepared to silence their opposition.”

Charis smiled. “And by silence, I assume that you mean it quite literally? They should be able to prevent her from summoning the power of her god and casting a spell.”

Rhema looked displeased as she spoke. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ischarus, but can we trust the temple in Fingerdale? We spent a fair amount of time dealing with Brandt. How do we know that one of the acolytes is not responsible for leaking information to bring this destruction about?”

Ischarus glanced back to Rhema with a confused look. “You are actually thinking that a priest of my deity could be responsible for this? Look at this woman! If what you are saying is true then the implications are huge. It would mean that my god is in league with an evil cult from which this member of the Ephistaemi has come.”

Semeion looked back to Ischarus. “Careful, Ischarus. Do not let your faith blind you. We’re all capable of falling. Every one of us has a button that can be pushed or a price tag to be bought. But fundamentally I agree with you. At this point we cannot trust many, especially of those who live in Fingerdale. However, if we cannot trust the temple where Brandt has his office I do not know who we can trust. If the temple is corrupt, then we are in far worse shape than we can possibly imagine.”

Charis replied conclusively. “Then it is settled. We plant in a week. We sleep in the forest. The woman goes with Brandt when he returns.” Nobody objected to Charis’ summary, but Rhema looked skeptical as to whether the plan was wise.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 29, 2007)

[Sblock=Announcement]
I would like to invite any of the readers of this thread who have not already done so to look at the sketch of Rhema that has been added to the first post under the Major Characters Sblock.  Once again, thanks, Hunter![/Sblock]

The party was able to scour most of the rest of the villa before Brandt returned.  In fact, the party was actually able to scour the entire villa with the woman remaining unconscious.  Charis’ combined attack with the celestial dog had nearly brought the woman to the point of death.  Fortunately, Charis’ minor healing magic was enough to stabilize the woman before death could take effect.  Charis’ magic had eased the vital injuries and left the non-vital injuries to be handled by the woman’s body and the compassion of her evil deity.

Rhema’s father had stayed with the woman and kept vigil over her.  In the time since he had given up the path of adventure to retire in the villa he had acquired a fair amount of skill in healing.  He knew that if her condition would have worsened that he could have dealt with it until Charis had time to arrive with her magical gift of supernatural healing.  Fortunately Charis was not needed throughout the day.  The dark robed woman remained unconscious and Rhema’s father had an easy duty to perform while the four adventurers picked through the remains of the villa.

The sun passed over the entire sky as the foursome searched through the ash.  It appeared as though there was nothing left to find within the remains of the villa.  By the time Brandt returned they had lost a significant amount of hope toward ever finding more answers.  They had spent all but the last hour of sunlight for the day sifting through the blackened fieldstones and the ash.  Brandt’s appearance was a welcome sight for the weary party.

Semeion was typically always the most excited by the aspects of the arcane.  Although he had seen it used many times by now, he continued to be in awe of the teleportation magic as Brandt’s imaged wavered before them and eventually solidified.  “Brandt!  You’ve returned!”  It was clear that Semeion was willing to grasp onto nearly anything that would bring hope after such a seemingly fruitless day of searching.

Brandt nodded as the others looked up to him.  “I have indeed.  And I do have some news.”

Rhema rubbed the backside of her hand over her forehead.  The dark gray ash smeared across her already dark skin.  “News?  At this point I’ll take anything.  Our search here has gone rather poorly.”

Brandt looked at the rubble before him and couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.  He frowned and paused for a moment before speaking.  “I still can’t believe this.  But, you don’t want to hear me reflect on what you’ve been sifting through all day.  You want my news, no doubt.  Is there a place that we can go and relax and get you all out of the sun?”

Ischarus smiled as he looked down to his blackened hands and ash stained clothing.  “Yeah, we’re done here for today, anyway.  Another hour of sun won’t help us find something that isn’t here to be found.”  He nodded in the direction of the horses and Rhema’s father.  “We can go over there.  That’s where we’ll be spending the night anyway.”

The party didn’t think about telling Brandt their own news regarding their encounter with the woman.  In their minds it had been a long time since the battle early in the morning.  There had been so little excitement over the course of the day that it actually felt like several days had passed.  In truth, they didn’t think about the fact that Brandt had not been around since the woman appeared.

As the foursome approached Rhema’s father with Brandt in tow, Brandt waved with a friendly motion.  “Iasho, I have brought news to share.”

Rhema’s father smiled as Rhema added to Brandt’s words with a bit of her own enthusiasm.  “Yes, and Brandt’s return means that we can finally do something about the woman!”

Brandt stopped and turned around to face Rhema.  Suddenly their collective oversight became quite clear.  Brandt’s face wrinkled as his eyes shot a distinctively probing glance toward Rhema.  “Woman?  You didn’t tell me anything about a woman!”

A few moments of stunned silence kept the party from answering Brandt.  Charis was able to collect her thoughts before the rest.  “Well, I guess none of us realized that you didn’t know.  She came quickly after you left, and it felt as though so much time had passed that you should have already known.  At least on my part it wasn’t intentional.”

Ischarus nodded.  “Indeed.  It clearly wasn’t intentional at all.  I guess we were all so down after a hard day’s work which resulted in nothing positive.  Seeing you and hearing of news was more interesting than trying to recap you on our day.”

Brandt smirked and shook his head side to side.  “And, this woman is where?”

Rhema pointed to her father.  “My father has been watching over her throughout the day.  She possesses magical abilities, so we bound and gagged her after we dealt with her.  We were hoping that you might have some other kind of suggestion for subduing her besides the gag and bindings.”

Semeion continued Rhema’s thought.  “We were thinking of some kind of confinement where magic doesn’t work.  Do you have any means of confining enemy priests who would use their powerful magic against you?”

Brandt looked back to where Rhema’s father stood.  His eys grew wide with Semeion’s simple confession that she might be a foreign priest.  “The woman is a heretic?  She has the powers of an evil god within her?”  Brandt paused for a moment but then decided to speak again before anyone else had the ability.  “I think you all better show me this woman.  I don’t like it at all.”

A deep darkness seemed to overtake the party as they completed the approach to where Rhema’s father stood waiting for them.  They were still glad to see Brandt, but his concern seemed to cast a shadow over their rejuvenated mood.  When they reached where Rhema’s father stood, Brandt extended his hand in greeting towards Rhema’s father.  “I am glad that you are safe, Iasho.  What is this about a woman?”

Rhema’s father stepped back and motioned to a small area within the tree line.  “We wanted to keep her out of the effects of the sun while her body handled the injuries.  She has not woken up since this morning, but she is alive.  I have regularly checked her breathing and her pulse since the morning.  Her breathing is shallow and her pulse is slow, but she is indeed alive.  In fact, I think she shows improvement.”

Brandt took several quick steps past Rhema’s father and he approached the woman with caution.  His robes even parted around his feet on account of the speed at which he walked.  He quickly knelt beside her and lifted the right fold of her cloak.  His hand disappeared for a moment underneath the folds of the left side of her cloak until he found what he was looking for.  He lifted the chain that had once suspended the holy pendant over her chest.

Brandt mumbled as he gripped the holy decoration.  “This is no trifle decoration.  This will tell us the deity that she serves.”  His monologue stopped short as he turned the pendant over in his hand so that the icon was able to be seen.  Immediately he gasped and released the pendant.  The chain fell limp against the woman’s robe as Brandt stood up in surprise.

Ischarus looked on with concern.  “Well, this is stating the obvious a bit, but that’s not a good sign.  What is it, Brandt?”

The experienced mage looked back to Ischarus.  As he spoke, Brandt’s voice slowly transformed into something nearly resembling a growl.  His eyes narrowed as he studied the woman carefully.  “This is not good indeed.  She is a follower of Yrraxea.  Of course, wherever Yrraxea is I can assure you that Duu Mahr and his servants are not far away.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party was able to scour most of the rest of the villa before Brandt returned. In fact, the party was actually able to scour the entire villa with the woman remaining unconscious. Charis’ combined attack with the celestial dog had nearly brought the woman to the point of death. Fortunately, Charis’ minor healing magic was enough to stabilize the woman before death could take effect. Charis’ magic had eased the vital injuries and left the non-vital injuries to be handled by the woman’s body and the compassion of her evil deity.

Rhema’s father had stayed with the woman and kept vigil over her. In the time since he had given up the path of adventure to retire in the villa he had acquired a fair amount of skill in healing. He knew that if her condition would have worsened that he could have dealt with it until Charis had time to arrive with her magical gift of supernatural healing. Fortunately Charis was not needed throughout the day. The dark robed woman remained unconscious and Rhema’s father had an easy duty to perform while the four adventurers picked through the remains of the villa.

The sun passed over the entire sky as the foursome searched through the ash. It appeared as though there was nothing left to find within the remains of the villa. By the time Brandt returned they had lost a significant amount of hope toward ever finding more answers. They had spent all but the last hour of sunlight for the day sifting through the blackened fieldstones and the ash. Brandt’s appearance was a welcome sight for the weary party.

Semeion was typically always the most excited by the aspects of the arcane. Although he had seen it used many times by now, he continued to be in awe of the teleportation magic as Brandt’s imaged wavered before them and eventually solidified. “Brandt! You’ve returned!” It was clear that Semeion was willing to grasp onto nearly anything that would bring hope after such a seemingly fruitless day of searching.

Brandt nodded as the others looked up to him. “I have indeed. And I do have some news.”

Rhema rubbed the backside of her hand over her forehead. The dark gray ash smeared across her already dark skin. “News? At this point I’ll take anything. Our search here has gone rather poorly.”

Brandt looked at the rubble before him and couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief. He frowned and paused for a moment before speaking. “I still can’t believe this. But, you don’t want to hear me reflect on what you’ve been sifting through all day. You want my news, no doubt. Is there a place that we can go and relax and get you all out of the sun?”

Ischarus smiled as he looked down to his blackened hands and ash stained clothing. “Yeah, we’re done here for today, anyway. Another hour of sun won’t help us find something that isn’t here to be found.” He nodded in the direction of the horses and Rhema’s father. “We can go over there. That’s where we’ll be spending the night anyway.”

The party didn’t think about telling Brandt their own news regarding their encounter with the woman. In their minds it had been a long time since the battle early in the morning. There had been so little excitement over the course of the day that it actually felt like several days had passed. In truth, they didn’t think about the fact that Brandt had not been around since the woman appeared.

As the foursome approached Rhema’s father with Brandt in tow, Brandt waved with a friendly motion. “Iasho, I have brought news to share.”

Rhema’s father smiled as Rhema added to Brandt’s words with a bit of her own enthusiasm. “Yes, and Brandt’s return means that we can finally do something about the woman!”

Brandt stopped and turned around to face Rhema. Suddenly their collective oversight became quite clear. Brandt’s face wrinkled as his eyes shot a distinctively probing glance toward Rhema. “Woman? You didn’t tell me anything about a woman!”

A few moments of stunned silence kept the party from answering Brandt. Charis was able to collect her thoughts before the rest. “Well, I guess none of us realized that you didn’t know. She came quickly after you left, and it felt as though so much time had passed that you should have already known. At least on my part it wasn’t intentional.”

Ischarus nodded. “Indeed. It clearly wasn’t intentional at all. I guess we were all so down after a hard day’s work which resulted in nothing positive. Seeing you and hearing of news was more interesting than trying to recap you on our day.”

Brandt smirked and shook his head side to side. “And, this woman is where?”

Rhema pointed to her father. “My father has been watching over her throughout the day. She possesses magical abilities, so we bound and gagged her after we dealt with her. We were hoping that you might have some other kind of suggestion for subduing her besides the gag and bindings.”

Semeion continued Rhema’s thought. “We were thinking of some kind of confinement where magic doesn’t work. Do you have any means of confining enemy priests who would use their powerful magic against you?”

Brandt looked back to where Rhema’s father stood. His eys grew wide with Semeion’s simple confession that she might be a foreign priest. “The woman is a heretic? She has the powers of an evil god within her?” Brandt paused for a moment but then decided to speak again before anyone else had the ability. “I think you all better show me this woman. I don’t like it at all.”

A deep darkness seemed to overtake the party as they completed the approach to where Rhema’s father stood waiting for them. They were still glad to see Brandt, but his concern seemed to cast a shadow over their rejuvenated mood. When they reached where Rhema’s father stood, Brandt extended his hand in greeting towards Rhema’s father. “I am glad that you are safe, Iasho. What is this about a woman?”

Rhema’s father stepped back and motioned to a small area within the tree line. “We wanted to keep her out of the effects of the sun while her body handled the injuries. She has not woken up since this morning, but she is alive. I have regularly checked her breathing and her pulse since the morning. Her breathing is shallow and her pulse is slow, but she is indeed alive. In fact, I think she shows improvement.”

Brandt took several quick steps past Rhema’s father and he approached the woman with caution. His robes even parted around his feet on account of the speed at which he walked. He quickly knelt beside her and lifted the right fold of her cloak. His hand disappeared for a moment underneath the folds of the left side of her cloak until he found what he was looking for. He lifted the chain that had once suspended the holy pendant over her chest.

Brandt mumbled as he gripped the holy decoration. “This is no trifle decoration. This will tell us the deity that she serves.” His monologue stopped short as he turned the pendant over in his hand so that the icon was able to be seen. Immediately he gasped and released the pendant. The chain fell limp against the woman’s robe as Brandt stood up in surprise.

Ischarus looked on with concern. “Well, this is stating the obvious a bit, but that’s not a good sign. What is it, Brandt?”

The experienced mage looked back to Ischarus. As he spoke, Brandt’s voice slowly transformed into something nearly resembling a growl. His eyes narrowed as he studied the woman carefully. “This is not good indeed. She is a follower of Yrraxea. Of course, wherever Yrraxea is I can assure you that Duu Mahr and his servants are not far away.”
[/Sblock]

[Sblock=Deity Note]I have decided to move this Story Hour away from the traditional Greyhawk deities.  The first two new deities have been introduced here: Yrraxea and Duu Mahr.  More to come on these deities![/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jan 31, 2007)

Charis looked up to Brandt.  “The goddess Yrraxea and the god Duu Mahr?”

Semeion smiled.  “Of course!  That’s where I had seen the symbol before.  Yrraxea is the goddess of many in the assassination business.  Her priests promote torture and deception.”  Semeion’s eyes danced with a certain sparkle as he remembered the training that he had once received from Master Sathwright.  “And by suggesting the connection to Duu Mahr’s followers you are thinking that this might have to do with some kind of addiction?”

Brandt nodded slowly.  “Perhaps.  If not addiction, definitely some form of domination.  Yrraxea’s priests see a great deal of use in Duu Mahr’s love for domination within their own tortuous schemes.”

Iasho spoke questioningly.  “But what connects two evil gods to the villa?  We were not about domination or addiction.  We especially had no love for torture!

Rema looked to her father with a knowing glance.  “But father, what exactly does the villa stand for?

Rhema’s father turned to her and thought through his daughter’s question before speaking.  “We stand for generosity.  We stand for compassion.  We stand for freedom.”  The fact that Rhema asked the question in the present tense was not lost upon him.

Ischarus smiled, already knowing where Rhema had been planning on going with her current line of questioning.  “Personally, it sounds to me like the villa stands against the major tenets of Yrraxea and Duu Mahr.”

Iasho still stood with a perplexed look upon his face.  “But that leaves us exactly back to where we started!  In order for this to be some kind of targeted act of violence, someone would have known what this place represented.  I know that nobody in Huetown would want this destruction.  Our villa provides for many of their livelihoods through the commerce of our refugees.  Lord Ironblood is well paid for his silence.”

Rhema held out a hand to stop her father from traveling down this useless path of discussion again.  “Yes, father.  We know that the implications of a targeted attack is that somewhere there must have been someone who knew of what was going on and who let that information slip to the wrong person.  We don’t know who that person is yet, but that is what we next have to discover.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt.  “Master Brandt, didn’t you say that you had information regarding the Ephistaemi for us?”

Brandt nodded and looked once more back to the woman who was lying at their feet.  “Indeed I do.  Although, I must confess that I am beginning to feel a great deal of worry concerning the implications between my knowledge and this discovery.”

Iasho looked to Brandt.  “Worried for us?”

Brandt shook his head side to side and looked to the west.  “No.  I am worried for the sake of Tongra.  Perhaps I am even worried for the sake of Enigmatica – even Quehalost.”

A silence fell across the people gathered around the black robed woman.  The party would wait for Brandt to speak next.  Their minds danced with questions that his comments had set in motion, but at the same time they knew that the only answers to be found were in letting Brandt speak.

The expert mage returned his gaze to the woman and began giving out his information.  “I’ve already told you all that the Ephistaemi are a clearinghouse for odd jobs.  And you no doubt remember that most of these jobs are highly specialized.  Some have good motivations while others are rooted in evil.  What I have learned since I told you these things is that there are no known bases of operations for the Ephistaemi within Fingerdale and its suburbs.  That doesn’t mean that there aren’t Ephistaemi here, because obviously there are.  What it does mean is that our friend here most likely didn’t come from Fingerdale.”

Ischarus looked down to the ground in deep thought before speaking.  “But, then what you are saying is that this was a non-local job?  You’re implying that someone from another location bought the services of the Ephistaemi and brought them here?”

Semeion interrupted Ischarus’ thought.  “Or, perhaps the person who hired the Ephistaemi were from this area but had enough contacts in other areas to arrange for the right Ephistaemi to come here.”

Brandt nodded and continued.  “Both of those are legitimate possibilities.  What bothers me is the connection between the Ephistaemi and the goddess Yrraxea.  There are not many places outside of Quehalost where Yrraxea is worshipped so openly.  Her symbol is prominently displayed on the priestly pendant, and the pendant was hanging in an obvious place of interest.”

Charis smirked at the hidden innuendo contained within Brandt’s speech.  Brandt smiled and turned to Charis with a smile on his face.  “It is indeed unfortunate, Charis.  But it does not change the truth that where this priest had hung her pendant is a place of keen interest.  The fact that the pendant hung against the black of her clothes would only enhance this fact.”

Charis nodded.  “Oh, very much so.  I didn’t deny your assertion.  In fact, I have to admit to having worn jewelry with the same intent on certain occasions.”

Semeion looked to his new wife, guessing that she hinted at one of her methods for drawing his own eye.  Charis smiled flirtatiously with her new husband.  Semeion’s mind refused to be distracted, although his body was willing.  “Anyway, back to connecting the Ephistaemi with Yrraxea.  I don’t quite see what you are getting at, Brandt.”

Rhema spoke up.  “What he’s getting at, Semeion, is the fact that is Yrraxea is most commonly worshipped so openly within the borders of Quehalost.  And if that much is true, then the likelihood of this woman coming from Quehalost is quite high.  This means that there might be powers within Quehalost whose influence can reach this deep into Tongra.”

Brandt nodded methodically along with Rhema’s speech tempo.  Her assertions could not be argued.  They were the same conclusions that he had reached upon seeing the pendant with his own eyes.  The ramifications of a power in Quehalost having this much reach implied that the civilized lands took the threat of Quehalost much too calmly.

Iasho followed up on his daughter’s words with words of his own.  “And that means that if there is a power in Quehalost that can reach this far, they can no doubt reach equally far into Fenneress.  That easily means that both of the capitols of Fenneress and Tongra are within striking range for some power in Quehalost.”

Brandt smiled as Iasho spoke.  “We must be careful to not draw too many conclusions, however.  All of this thought is based on the assumption that this woman is from Quehalost.  She may not be.  I doubt she comes from Barghost.  Her holy pendant is too prominently displayed to have come from a place so closely tied to the divine.  But she could have come from somewhere within Fenneress.  She could have come from somewhere within Tongra.”

Iasho added his thoughts once more.  “Or she could have come from Quehalost.  It makes sense, Brandt.  This villa stands as a bastion against the oppression in Quehalost.  There are those in Quehalost who would now fear this villa because of what rumors must have spread regarding the destruction of the red wyrm.  A preemptive strike would keep the members of this villa from doing the same to the next power in Quehalost.”

Brandt nodded in agreement.  “I agree, Iasho.  It makes the most sense.  But that does not mean it is the right answer.  That is all I am saying.  It would not surprise me if that was the correct answer.  We simply do not know, yet.”

The voices of the six people gathered near the forest’s edge had slowly grown louder as the possibilities began to be spun out.  Nobody noticed at first that the woman had begun to blink her eyes.  However, the party didn’t miss the first time that she moved.  The woman tried to bring her hands around to the front of her body and found that they were tied.  She kicked violently with her legs, although they had also been tied.  Her leg thrust clipped the back of Rhema’s ankles and dropped her to her knees at the woman’s feet.

Rhema looked to the woman in surprise and found that her glare was returned by the follower of Yrraxea.  The woman’s eyes burned with a fire upon the realization that she had been bound and gagged rather than killed.  She struggled violently for several seconds before Brandt knelt down to break the woman’s concentration upon Rhema.

The right half of Brandt’s mouth lifted in a subtle smile. “You are a follower of Yrraxea, no?”  The woman nodded.  Brandt continued his speech as his smile widened to both sides of his face.  He also extended his right hand to show the woman the holy image engraved upon a silver ring resting around his index finger.  “Good.  It is good to make your acquaintance.  I happen to follow Reah, and I am taking you back to my temple so that you can answer for your actions.”

The woman bit hard into her gag and released a low growl upon the mention of Brandt’s god.  Her arms clenched tightly as she tried to burst the bonds that Ischarus had tied earlier.  Her arms simply did not have the necessary strength.  She was at the mercy of Brandt, Iasho, and the four adventurers.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis looked up to Brandt. “The goddess Yrraxea and the god Duu Mahr?”

Semeion smiled. “Of course! That’s where I had seen the symbol before. Yrraxea is the goddess of many in the assassination business. Her priests promote torture and deception.” Semeion’s eyes danced with a certain sparkle as he remembered the training that he had once received from Master Sathwright. “And by suggesting the connection to Duu Mahr’s followers you are thinking that this might have to do with some kind of addiction?”

Brandt nodded slowly. “Perhaps. If not addiction, definitely some form of domination. Yrraxea’s priests see a great deal of use in Duu Mahr’s love for domination within their own tortuous schemes.”

Iasho spoke questioningly. “But what connects two evil gods to the villa? We were not about domination or addiction. We especially had no love for torture!

Rema looked to her father with a knowing glance. “But father, what exactly does the villa stand for?

Rhema’s father turned to her and thought through his daughter’s question before speaking. “We stand for generosity. We stand for compassion. We stand for freedom.” The fact that Rhema asked the question in the present tense was not lost upon him.

Ischarus smiled, already knowing where Rhema had been planning on going with her current line of questioning. “Personally, it sounds to me like the villa stands against the major tenets of Yrraxea and Duu Mahr.”

Iasho still stood with a perplexed look upon his face. “But that leaves us exactly back to where we started! In order for this to be some kind of targeted act of violence, someone would have known what this place represented. I know that nobody in Huetown would want this destruction. Our villa provides for many of their livelihoods through the commerce of our refugees. Lord Ironblood is well paid for his silence.”

Rhema held out a hand to stop her father from traveling down this useless path of discussion again. “Yes, father. We know that the implications of a targeted attack is that somewhere there must have been someone who knew of what was going on and who let that information slip to the wrong person. We don’t know who that person is yet, but that is what we next have to discover.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt. “Master Brandt, didn’t you say that you had information regarding the Ephistaemi for us?”

Brandt nodded and looked once more back to the woman who was lying at their feet. “Indeed I do. Although, I must confess that I am beginning to feel a great deal of worry concerning the implications between my knowledge and this discovery.”

Iasho looked to Brandt. “Worried for us?”

Brandt shook his head side to side and looked to the west. “No. I am worried for the sake of Tongra. Perhaps I am even worried for the sake of Enigmatica – even Quehalost.”

A silence fell across the people gathered around the black robed woman. The party would wait for Brandt to speak next. Their minds danced with questions that his comments had set in motion, but at the same time they knew that the only answers to be found were in letting Brandt speak.

The expert mage returned his gaze to the woman and began giving out his information. “I’ve already told you all that the Ephistaemi are a clearinghouse for odd jobs. And you no doubt remember that most of these jobs are highly specialized. Some have good motivations while others are rooted in evil. What I have learned since I told you these things is that there are no known bases of operations for the Ephistaemi within Fingerdale and its suburbs. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t Ephistaemi here, because obviously there are. What it does mean is that our friend here most likely didn’t come from Fingerdale.”

Ischarus looked down to the ground in deep thought before speaking. “But, then what you are saying is that this was a non-local job? You’re implying that someone from another location bought the services of the Ephistaemi and brought them here?”

Semeion interrupted Ischarus’ thought. “Or, perhaps the person who hired the Ephistaemi were from this area but had enough contacts in other areas to arrange for the right Ephistaemi to come here.”

Brandt nodded and continued. “Both of those are legitimate possibilities. What bothers me is the connection between the Ephistaemi and the goddess Yrraxea. There are not many places outside of Quehalost where Yrraxea is worshipped so openly. Her symbol is prominently displayed on the priestly pendant, and the pendant was hanging in an obvious place of interest.”

Charis smirked at the hidden innuendo contained within Brandt’s speech. Brandt smiled and turned to Charis with a smile on his face. “It is indeed unfortunate, Charis. But it does not change the truth that where this priest had hung her pendant is a place of keen interest. The fact that the pendant hung against the black of her clothes would only enhance this fact.”

Charis nodded. “Oh, very much so. I didn’t deny your assertion. In fact, I have to admit to having worn jewelry with the same intent on certain occasions.”

Semeion looked to his new wife, guessing that she hinted at one of her methods for drawing his own eye. Charis smiled flirtatiously with her new husband. Semeion’s mind refused to be distracted, although his body was willing. “Anyway, back to connecting the Ephistaemi with Yrraxea. I don’t quite see what you are getting at, Brandt.”

Rhema spoke up. “What he’s getting at, Semeion, is the fact that is Yrraxea is most commonly worshipped so openly within the borders of Quehalost. And if that much is true, then the likelihood of this woman coming from Quehalost is quite high. This means that there might be powers within Quehalost whose influence can reach this deep into Tongra.”

Brandt nodded methodically along with Rhema’s speech tempo. Her assertions could not be argued. They were the same conclusions that he had reached upon seeing the pendant with his own eyes. The ramifications of a power in Quehalost having this much reach implied that the civilized lands took the threat of Quehalost much too calmly.

Iasho followed up on his daughter’s words with words of his own. “And that means that if there is a power in Quehalost that can reach this far, they can no doubt reach equally far into Fenneress. That easily means that both of the capitols of Fenneress and Tongra are within striking range for some power in Quehalost.”

Brandt smiled as Iasho spoke. “We must be careful to not draw too many conclusions, however. All of this thought is based on the assumption that this woman is from Quehalost. She may not be. I doubt she comes from Barghost. Her holy pendant is too prominently displayed to have come from a place so closely tied to the divine. But she could have come from somewhere within Fenneress. She could have come from somewhere within Tongra.”

Iasho added his thoughts once more. “Or she could have come from Quehalost. It makes sense, Brandt. This villa stands as a bastion against the oppression in Quehalost. There are those in Quehalost who would now fear this villa because of what rumors must have spread regarding the destruction of the red wyrm. A preemptive strike would keep the members of this villa from doing the same to the next power in Quehalost.”

Brandt nodded in agreement. “I agree, Iasho. It makes the most sense. But that does not mean it is the right answer. That is all I am saying. It would not surprise me if that was the correct answer. We simply do not know, yet.”

The voices of the six people gathered near the forest’s edge had slowly grown louder as the possibilities began to be spun out. Nobody noticed at first that the woman had begun to blink her eyes. However, the party didn’t miss the first time that she moved. The woman tried to bring her hands around to the front of her body and found that they were tied. She kicked violently with her legs, although they had also been tied. Her leg thrust clipped the back of Rhema’s ankles and dropped her to her knees at the woman’s feet.

Rhema looked to the woman in surprise and found that her glare was returned by the follower of Yrraxea. The woman’s eyes burned with a fire upon the realization that she had been bound and gagged rather than killed. She struggled violently for several seconds before Brandt knelt down to break the woman’s concentration upon Rhema.

The right half of Brandt’s mouth lifted in a subtle smile. “You are a follower of Yrraxea, no?” The woman nodded. Brandt continued his speech as his smile widened to both sides of his face. He also extended his right hand to show the woman the holy image engraved upon a silver ring resting around his index finger. “Good. It is good to make your acquaintance. I happen to follow Reah, and I am taking you back to my temple so that you can answer for your actions.”

The woman bit hard into her gag and released a low growl upon the mention of Brandt’s god. Her arms clenched tightly as she tried to burst the bonds that Ischarus had tied earlier. Her arms simply did not have the necessary strength. She was at the mercy of Brandt, Iasho, and the four adventurers. 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 2, 2007)

Brandt transported himself and the unholy priestess back to the temple in Fingerdale.  There wouldn’t be any need to transport anyone else with them.  Ischarus and Charis were needed at the villa in case it was going to be attacked again.  Semeion and Rhema wouldn’t be able to do anything during the interrogation that Brandt and the members of his temple couldn’t also accomplish.  For the night, it seemed to make more sense to have the four adventurers stay together with Rhema’s father.

Once Brandt took the woman back to Fingerdale via a teleportation spell, Iasho led the other four to a place where the five would be able to spend the night sheltered from the elements and in relative privacy.  During the day, Iasho had discovered a small clearing with a thick layer of trees surrounding it.  The clearing was no more than twenty feet wide and it had several fallen branches lying across the ground.  These branches were easily cleared to make room for sleeping comfortably.  The horses were secured along the edge of the clearing and slightly among the trees.

As the day had passed by, the party realized that the likelihood of retaliation grew less and less possible.  If the priestess of Yrraxea had associates who were waiting for her return, then they should have come looking for her by now.  The fact that the day had passed by so uneventfully most likely meant that the priestess was working within the Ephistaemi on the side of her duties for Yrraxea.  Or at the very least, her dealings here with the villa were not officially sanctioned by the temple out of which she served.

Yet as the day drew to a close and the sun descended behind the tops of the trees, their fears increased.  Suddenly the possibility of a surprise attack became a new threat.  With the cover of darkness, a challenger could come upon them from almost any direction so long as they knew where to look.

This very possibility caused Ischarus to be particularly edgy as they set up camp for the night.  “Perhaps their was no counterattack during the day because they were spying on us and watching our movements while they could from a distance.  If they are powerful enough to teleport into this area, surely they are powerful enough to observe us through magical means.  Maybe they wanted to wait for us to feel secure and then attack under the cover of darkness.”

Semeion nodded in agreement.  “Of course.  If they have the power to teleport then I absolutely guarantee that they have the power to observe the land where the teleport is to happen.  I don’t know anybody who blindly teleports into an unknown situation.”

Charis hefted her pick from where she had rested it beside her bedroll.  “We talked about  setting shifts. I’ll take the first watch.  I’m not really feeling particularly tired this evening, so I wouldn’t mind staying awake for a few more hours while you all sleep.”

The rest of the party agreed upon a watch schedule and tried to rest as comfortably as they could.  The night passed by quickly as they traded shifts and watches.  Perhaps most importantly for them as they slept among the trees, the night passed uneventfully as well.

The same could not be said for Brandt and the priestess of Yrraxea.  Once they had successfully transported to the temple, Brandt summoned two acolytes to his office.  The acolytes responded as quickly as they could to the superior priest.  They arrived only moments after the summons to the outside of Brandt’s office.  Only after Brandt beckoned them to come in did they open the door and see Brandt standing over the bound and gagged woman.

Brandt nodded to the acolytes and motioned for them to step fully into the room.  “Come in, come in.  As you can see, I have need for you to raise this situation to the attention of several other priests.”

The acolytes stepped into the room and cautiously approached the bound woman.  The taller of the acolytes looked down upon the woman and recognized the pendant around the gagged woman’s neck.  “Yrraxea?  This woman serves and honors Yrraxea?”  Suddenly his caution turned into a morbid curiosity.  “Where did you bring her from?  Master Brandt, have you been adventuring into the evil lands?”

Brandt lowered his glance to the woman and then looked to the acolyte who had spoken as if he were staring at him over a pair of lenses.  “I figured that you would appreciate this find, Thomas.  I see that your studies regarding the identification of the unholy under Master Searthu have been progressing well.  Would it surprise you to know that this woman was discovered only a few miles outside of Fingerdale?  She was retrieving an item that had been lost in the razing of a local nobleman’s villa.  Fortunately, the nobleman’s remaining forces were strong enough to apprehend her.”

Both of the acolyte’s jaws opened as they heard Brandt’s testimony regarding the woman.  The acolyte who had identified the pendant asked more questions of Brandt.  “Yrraxea’s followers have grown so bold as to come this close to holy land?  We’re not far from Barghost, after all.  I could see them acting in the areas of Scarhaus or even Reignsburg so openly.  But what does it mean to have a worshipper of Yrraxea so open here in Fingerdale?”

As the conversation continued, the woman opened her eyes but sat still upon the floor.  There was no use fighting the bindings, but she could still listen attentively.  If she knew what was coming, she might be able to produce some kind of defense before she was subjected to the questioning of Reah’s priests.

Brandt looked to the acolyte who had studied under Searthu.  “I am pretty sure that your master would find this discovery interesting, don’t you think?  I know that it is late, but I would like you to find out if Master Searthu has left the temple.  If he hasn’t, please explain to him what you have seen with your eyes and heard with your ears.  If he has left for the evening, please summon another acolyte to take your temple duties and go to his home and tell him what you know.  I think that while he may be bothered originally by being disturbed, he will quickly be grateful.”

The acolyte bowed low to Brandt and backed his way out of Brandt’s office.  Soon the door closed on its own once more.  Brandt was left alone with the second acolyte and the bound priestess of Yrraxea.  Brandt addressed the second acolyte who stood silently in the office.  “Barra, you still continue to study under the protective arts of Master Buschlerre, do you not?”

The acolyte nodded in silence.  His master had often cautioned him that silence was as useful a skill that any spell caster could employ.  The acolyte knew that silence taught the mind to listen and to remain alert to one’s surroundings.

Brandt smiled at the acolyte’s reaction.  There was no doubt that this acolyte was under the rigorous teaching of Master Buschlerre.  “Go and find your master.  I assume that he is still in the temple.  For some reason the elven followers of Reah here in Fingerdale have an absurd aversion to spending time away from the temple.  Of course this is not a bad thing, especially because it will be to Master Buschlerre’s benefit on this night.  You can still speak, can you not?”

The acolyte smiled as he looked directly in Brandt’s eyes.  Rather than responding, the acolyte merely nodded his head in the affirmative.  The acolyte’s eyes did not leave Brandt’s eyes or his mouth as Brandt spoke.

Brandt couldn’t help but laugh at the preparedness of this acolyte.  There could be no doubt that Master Buschlerre had spent years influencing this particular student.  “Very well, indeed.  Tell your master that I will have need of his silence as well as his defense before the night is over.  Tell your master what I have told both of you tonight.  Explain to Master Buschlerre that the interrogation of a priestess of Yrraxea will take place as soon as Master Searthu can be summoned.  Once the interrogation is complete, your master’s expertise at keeping this priestess from casting spells will be quite useful.  Of course, tell Master Buschlerre that he is welcome to participate in the interrogation as well.”

The acolyte nodded once more in the affirmative and began to back away as the first acolyte had done.  After taking two steps, however, the acolyte stopped.  Brandt watched the acolyte’s actions and glanced back to the acolyte’s face once the acolyte had chosen to linger.  The master searched the acolyte’s face for a few moments before speaking.  “Yes, Barra?  Is there more you wish of me today?”

The acolyte nodded and licked his dry lips.  “May I have your sanction to speak well, sir?”  Brandt nodded and motioned with his hand that the acolyte was to continue.  “Sir, my training period is almost complete.  I will be coming upon my time of examination.  The fact that you know the gifts and talents of acolytes that are not your own impresses me, sir.  I would be honored if you would consider being a part of my challenge team.”

Brandt smiled at the offer.  “You understand what you are asking, no doubt?  The fact that I know your strengths and weaknesses will not make it easy for you, Barra.  And I do believe in the challenges to stretch the acolytes to ensure that they are ready.”

The acolyte of Master Buschlerre smiled.  “Yes, sir.  Your reputation upon the challenge teams precedes you, sir.”

Brandt was intrigued.  He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the acolyte, but did not say anything further.  He knew that by remaining quiet he would keep the acolyte in the dark as to whether he had taken the acolyte’s last comment as an insult or a compliment.

The acolyte continued.  “I would have it no other way, sir.  I would like to know that I was challenged properly when my time comes.  I do not wish to pick a challenge team that wants to see me pass.  I wish to pick a challenge team that wants to ensure that I am right for your order.  If I am to be called a Master, I desire to know that I was challenged by the best, Master Brandt.”

Brandt smiled broadly.  The acolyte had spoken well, even if he did portray a hint of arrogance that exceeded self-confidence.  “Go and find your master, Barra.  When you have demonstrated your worth to me by completing my task for you then I shall give you my answer.”

The acolyte backed out the room the rest of the way and Brandt was left alone with the priestess of Yrraxea.  He knelt down to the ground and spoke directly to the woman.  “There is a saying among the storytellers who entertain the people in the city square.  They say that villains fall because their pride forbids them to keep any secrets.  In other words, their villainous monologues lead to their own destruction by warning their victims of what is coming.”

Brandt continued his own monologue, knowing that the priestess of Yrraxea was unable to interrupt him.  “However, I am going to demonstrate the same flaw out of my sympathy for you, priestess.  You should prepare yourself.  I have summoned the strongest controller of the temple’s aegis.  We will be protected against your vile magic.  I have also summoned the temple’s strongest truth-speaker.  He holds the distinction of being our temple’s True-Tongue.  You will be left with no option but to tell us why you have come and who has sent you.  I would recommend that you prepare yourself for this event.  Before the night is over we will know your secrets.  Pray to your goddess for the protection of your tongue.  Or pray to Reah for forgiveness of your earlier transgressions.  I care not which you chose, but I warn you to pray.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt transported himself and the unholy priestess back to the temple in Fingerdale. There wouldn’t be any need to transport anyone else with them. Ischarus and Charis were needed at the villa in case it was going to be attacked again. Semeion and Rhema wouldn’t be able to do anything during the interrogation that Brandt and the members of his temple couldn’t also accomplish. For the night, it seemed to make more sense to have the four adventurers stay together with Rhema’s father.

Once Brandt took the woman back to Fingerdale via a teleportation spell, Iasho led the other four to a place where the five would be able to spend the night sheltered from the elements and in relative privacy. During the day, Iasho had discovered a small clearing with a thick layer of trees surrounding it. The clearing was no more than twenty feet wide and it had several fallen branches lying across the ground. These branches were easily cleared to make room for sleeping comfortably. The horses were secured along the edge of the clearing and slightly among the trees.

As the day had passed by, the party realized that the likelihood of retaliation grew less and less possible. If the priestess of Yrraxea had associates who were waiting for her return, then they should have come looking for her by now. The fact that the day had passed by so uneventfully most likely meant that the priestess was working within the Ephistaemi on the side of her duties for Yrraxea. Or at the very least, her dealings here with the villa were not officially sanctioned by the temple out of which she served.

Yet as the day drew to a close and the sun descended behind the tops of the trees, their fears increased. Suddenly the possibility of a surprise attack became a new threat. With the cover of darkness, a challenger could come upon them from almost any direction so long as they knew where to look.

This very possibility caused Ischarus to be particularly edgy as they set up camp for the night. “Perhaps their was no counterattack during the day because they were spying on us and watching our movements while they could from a distance. If they are powerful enough to teleport into this area, surely they are powerful enough to observe us through magical means. Maybe they wanted to wait for us to feel secure and then attack under the cover of darkness.”

Semeion nodded in agreement. “Of course. If they have the power to teleport then I absolutely guarantee that they have the power to observe the land where the teleport is to happen. I don’t know anybody who blindly teleports into an unknown situation.”

Charis hefted her pick from where she had rested it beside her bedroll. “We talked about setting shifts. I’ll take the first watch. I’m not really feeling particularly tired this evening, so I wouldn’t mind staying awake for a few more hours while you all sleep.”

The rest of the party agreed upon a watch schedule and tried to rest as comfortably as they could. The night passed by quickly as they traded shifts and watches. Perhaps most importantly for them as they slept among the trees, the night passed uneventfully as well.

The same could not be said for Brandt and the priestess of Yrraxea. Once they had successfully transported to the temple, Brandt summoned two acolytes to his office. The acolytes responded as quickly as they could to the superior priest. They arrived only moments after the summons to the outside of Brandt’s office. Only after Brandt beckoned them to come in did they open the door and see Brandt standing over the bound and gagged woman.

Brandt nodded to the acolytes and motioned for them to step fully into the room. “Come in, come in. As you can see, I have need for you to raise this situation to the attention of several other priests.”

The acolytes stepped into the room and cautiously approached the bound woman. The taller of the acolytes looked down upon the woman and recognized the pendant around the gagged woman’s neck. “Yrraxea? This woman serves and honors Yrraxea?” Suddenly his caution turned into a morbid curiosity. “Where did you bring her from? Master Brandt, have you been adventuring into the evil lands?”

Brandt lowered his glance to the woman and then looked to the acolyte who had spoken as if he were staring at him over a pair of lenses. “I figured that you would appreciate this find, Thomas. I see that your studies regarding the identification of the unholy under Master Searthu have been progressing well. Would it surprise you to know that this woman was discovered only a few miles outside of Fingerdale? She was retrieving an item that had been lost in the razing of a local nobleman’s villa. Fortunately, the nobleman’s remaining forces were strong enough to apprehend her.”

Both of the acolyte’s jaws opened as they heard Brandt’s testimony regarding the woman. The acolyte who had identified the pendant asked more questions of Brandt. “Yrraxea’s followers have grown so bold as to come this close to holy land? We’re not far from Barghost, after all. I could see them acting in the areas of Scarhaus or even Reignsburg so openly. But what does it mean to have a worshipper of Yrraxea so open here in Fingerdale?”

As the conversation continued, the woman opened her eyes but sat still upon the floor. There was no use fighting the bindings, but she could still listen attentively. If she knew what was coming, she might be able to produce some kind of defense before she was subjected to the questioning of Reah’s priests.

Brandt looked to the acolyte who had studied under Searthu. “I am pretty sure that your master would find this discovery interesting, don’t you think? I know that it is late, but I would like you to find out if Master Searthu has left the temple. If he hasn’t, please explain to him what you have seen with your eyes and heard with your ears. If he has left for the evening, please summon another acolyte to take your temple duties and go to his home and tell him what you know. I think that while he may be bothered originally by being disturbed, he will quickly be grateful.”

The acolyte bowed low to Brandt and backed his way out of Brandt’s office. Soon the door closed on its own once more. Brandt was left alone with the second acolyte and the bound priestess of Yrraxea. Brandt addressed the second acolyte who stood silently in the office. “Barra, you still continue to study under the protective arts of Master Buschlerre, do you not?”

The acolyte nodded in silence. His master had often cautioned him that silence was as useful a skill that any spell caster could employ. The acolyte knew that silence taught the mind to listen and to remain alert to one’s surroundings.

Brandt smiled at the acolyte’s reaction. There was no doubt that this acolyte was under the rigorous teaching of Master Buschlerre. “Go and find your master. I assume that he is still in the temple. For some reason the elven followers of Reah here in Fingerdale have an absurd aversion to spending time away from the temple. Of course this is not a bad thing, especially because it will be to Master Buschlerre’s benefit on this night. You can still speak, can you not?”

The acolyte smiled as he looked directly in Brandt’s eyes. Rather than responding, the acolyte merely nodded his head in the affirmative. The acolyte’s eyes did not leave Brandt’s eyes or his mouth as Brandt spoke.

Brandt couldn’t help but laugh at the preparedness of this acolyte. There could be no doubt that Master Buschlerre had spent years influencing this particular student. “Very well, indeed. Tell your master that I will have need of his silence as well as his defense before the night is over. Tell your master what I have told both of you tonight. Explain to Master Buschlerre that the interrogation of a priestess of Yrraxea will take place as soon as Master Searthu can be summoned. Once the interrogation is complete, your master’s expertise at keeping this priestess from casting spells will be quite useful. Of course, tell Master Buschlerre that he is welcome to participate in the interrogation as well.”

The acolyte nodded once more in the affirmative and began to back away as the first acolyte had done. After taking two steps, however, the acolyte stopped. Brandt watched the acolyte’s actions and glanced back to the acolyte’s face once the acolyte had chosen to linger. The master searched the acolyte’s face for a few moments before speaking. “Yes, Barra? Is there more you wish of me today?”

The acolyte nodded and licked his dry lips. “May I have your sanction to speak well, sir?” Brandt nodded and motioned with his hand that the acolyte was to continue. “Sir, my training period is almost complete. I will be coming upon my time of examination. The fact that you know the gifts and talents of acolytes that are not your own impresses me, sir. I would be honored if you would consider being a part of my challenge team.”

Brandt smiled at the offer. “You understand what you are asking, no doubt? The fact that I know your strengths and weaknesses will not make it easy for you, Barra. And I do believe in the challenges to stretch the acolytes to ensure that they are ready.”

The acolyte of Master Buschlerre smiled. “Yes, sir. Your reputation upon the challenge teams precedes you, sir.”

Brandt was intrigued. He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the acolyte, but did not say anything further. He knew that by remaining quiet he would keep the acolyte in the dark as to whether he had taken the acolyte’s last comment as an insult or a compliment.

The acolyte continued. “I would have it no other way, sir. I would like to know that I was challenged properly when my time comes. I do not wish to pick a challenge team that wants to see me pass. I wish to pick a challenge team that wants to ensure that I am right for your order. If I am to be called a Master, I desire to know that I was challenged by the best, Master Brandt.”

Brandt smiled broadly. The acolyte had spoken well, even if he did portray a hint of arrogance that exceeded self-confidence. “Go and find your master, Barra. When you have demonstrated your worth to me by completing my task for you then I shall give you my answer.”

The acolyte backed out the room the rest of the way and Brandt was left alone with the priestess of Yrraxea. He knelt down to the ground and spoke directly to the woman. “There is a saying among the storytellers who entertain the people in the city square. They say that villains fall because their pride forbids them to keep any secrets. In other words, their villainous monologues lead to their own destruction by warning their victims of what is coming.”

Brandt continued his own monologue, knowing that the priestess of Yrraxea was unable to interrupt him. “However, I am going to demonstrate the same flaw out of my sympathy for you, priestess. You should prepare yourself. I have summoned the strongest controller of the temple’s aegis. We will be protected against your vile magic. I have also summoned the temple’s strongest truth-speaker. He holds the distinction of being our temple’s True-Tongue. You will be left with no option but to tell us why you have come and who has sent you. I would recommend that you prepare yourself for this event. Before the night is over we will know your secrets. Pray to your goddess for the protection of your tongue. Or pray to Reah for forgiveness of your earlier transgressions. I care not which you chose, but I warn you to pray.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 5, 2007)

It was almost an hour before Brandt received word from either of the acolytes.  Barra was the first to return to Brandt’s office.  The priestess of Yrraxea continued to lie on the floor.

The acolyte waited for Brandt to address him first in the tradition of defense taught to him by Master Buschlerre.  “Yes, Barra?  You have news of your master’s progress?”

Barra nodded his head.  He was shorter than the more mature and experienced Brandt.  “Yes, Master Brandt.  Master Buschlerre wishes to inform you that a room is in the process of being prepared for the interrogation.  Would you like the details in a more private location?”

Brandt smiled politely and shook his head to decline the offer.  “No, Barra.  If Master Buschlerre is preparing the room, I do not believe that we have much to fear in the priestess’ ability to counteract our plans.  Whether she knows about the preparations or not, I do not think it will matter.”

Brandt’s words were a simple display of bravado.  He was confident in Buschlerre’s ability to prepare the room for the interrogation, of course.  What Brandt couldn’t be sure of was the capacity for spell casting of the priestess.  His show of words was mostly for her benefit.  If he could convince the priestess that he truly believed that she could do nothing, then she might cooperate more readily.

The acolyte nodded and continued.  “Master Buschlerre is confident that if we head toward the room immediately that it will be ready when we arrive.  The only question is whether or not Master Searthu has been able to be raised.  Can the interrogation begin if he is not present?”

Brandt nodded.  He stood so that his head was unable to be seen by the priestess.  He knew that she did not need access to that particular batch of information.  “We can go.”

Brandt took several seconds to kneel down to the priestess’ level.  He knew that so long as she was gagged and bound that she could be no threat to him.  He was innately curious to see if she could even be a threat without all of the precautions.  “We have a choice, priestess.  We can travel through the temple in a civilized fashion and treat you with respect.  Or, if you force my hand we can simply teleport into the room.  The choice is yours, of course.  Nod your head if you would like the opportunity to stretch your legs and walk down the hall.”

The priestess stared deeply into Brandt’s eyes.  The follower of Reah seemed to be able to back up his aggressive stance form her perspective.  He had already proven his ability to teleport more than one person.  She had no reason to doubt that any of his other claims would be false.  She nodded her head in support of the idea that she would behave.

Brandt smiled at the woman.  “Good.  I like being able to treat people with the respect that they deserve.”  Brandt stood up to his full height and turned back to the acolyte.  “Barra, help the priestess to her feet, please.  And do be careful to not disturb the bindings or the gag.”

Brandt smiled at the acolyte and watched as Barra helped the woman to her feet.  Together the pair of temple staff escorted the woman down the hall.  They would need to walk through a back passageway through the temple to avoid walking past the entrance and the rooms designated for healing.  There would be no need to have this woman walk past any potential number of innocent citizens waiting for healing in the other hallway.

Brandt turned and opened the door to allow the priestess to enter and to be followed by the acolyte.  As he did, he saw Thomas walking quickly towards his position.  Brandt smiled as he saw an indication that Master Searthu had successfully been alerted to the need.

The acolyte strode towards Brandt with a certain spring in his step.  “Master Brandt!  Master Searthu has been directed to the room that Master Buschlerre is preparing.  I have been sent to tell you that all is indeed ready to await our guest.  Master Searthu is excited and sends his regard for allowing him to assist you in this matter.”

Brandt nodded and smiled even more broadly.  “Very good, Thomas.  Follow the priestess with Barra, if you will.  You can help to ensure that she thinks twice before doing anything that would be considered foolish.”

The acolyte took his place slightly behind Barra.  Barra was the more veteran acolyte and Thomas’ position would naturally be behind Barra.  Either way, Brandt felt more secure about traveling with the priestess with a total of three, even if two of his number were acolytes.

Within another minute the trio had escorted the priestess to the room where the interrogation was to take place.  The elf priest of Reah, Master Buschlerre, was at the door to greet Brandt and the acolytes.  Master Buschlerre looked to be of a middle age for an elf.  He wore his hair long and pulled back into a single pony tail off the back of his head.  The hair was pulled back so as to hide the pointed ears that would otherwise have readily distinguished him as an elf.  Instead, it was his thin frame, alert eyes, and pale skin that gave his race away to most observers.  His robes were identical to Brandt with the exception that they were lighter in color and had an additional strip of color sown just above the bottom hem.

The elf reached out a hand and greeted Brandt.  “Good day, Master Brandt.  Well, I suppose by now it is good evening, although without going outside too often it is easy for me to lose track of the time.  You have had quite an interesting day, no?”

An amused expression passed over Brandt’s face.  It did not surprise him at all that the temple’s current master of aegis magic spent little time outside the temple.  It did surprise him that Buschlerre had spoken first instead of waiting to be addressed.  There was no doubt that Buschlerre was the superior in age and had the right to greet Brandt instead of the other way around.  However, it certainly was not his custom.  The discovery of the priestess must have been enough to draw the defensive master out of his shell.  With an odd smile on his face, Brandt replied to the elf priest.  “Yes, quite.  You were told of the priestess of Yrraxea that was discovered in Huetown?”

Buschlerre nodded in return.  “Interesting, indeed.  I can hardly wait for what we are about to discover tonight.” A genuine smile of anticipation passed over his face.

Inside the room, Master Searthu stood waiting patiently. When he heard the greeting from Master Buschlerre, he approached the door.  He stood a mere five foot and eight inches tall, although that was an average height for an Ehrmenae.  His ears rested flat against his head in the traditional configuration of the Ehrmenai people.  The cartilage on the outside of the ears of the Ehrmanai fused with the skin behind it, allowing a small yet thick guard to grow in protection over the vital sense organ.  His narrow eyes, slim mouth, and thin nose also easily identified him as an Ehrmenae.  However, perhaps the most interesting facial development was the bony nasal carapace that was common among his people.  The carapace extended over his nose, eyebrows, and a full third of his forehead before merging back into his skull.  It was almost as if he wore a natural nosepiece from a helm without the rest of the headgear.

Searthu’s robes contained two less stripes than Brandt’s, although the robes themselves were the same color and style.  He was the least in both rank and age of the three priests of Reah, and this alone caused him to want to wait his turn rather than speaking in greeting once he had heard Brandt’s voice in the hallway.  As Brandt turned the corner and was shown into the room by Master Buschlerre, Master Searthu stood up to the fullest height he could gain from his shorter body.

Brandt stopped and extended his hand in greeting to Searthu.  “Master Searthu, I am glad that you were able to come tonight.  I hope I did not interrupt your plans with family in light of my discovery?”

Searthu smiled.  “Are you kidding?  A discovery like this does not happen all that often!  I am excited to be a part of this.  I had not left the office for the evening, and my family will no doubt understand when I return home and speak of what kept me delayed!”

It was clear to Brandt that both of the men who had been summoned were pleased to be here.  While the masters passed along their greetings, the acolytes had detained the priestess of Yrraxea in the hallway.  Once the pleasantries were said, Master Buschlerre motioned for the acolytes to bring the woman into the small room.

The room was only about twenty feet square.  It proved to be a rather tight fit for the priestess of Yrraxea, the three priests of Reah, and their two acolytes.  Master Buschlerre spoke first once all were present in the room and the door to the hallway was shut tight.  “Fellow masters, I know we are tight in here, but I believe this experience would go quite far in the training of these two acolytes that have been summoned by Master Brandt.  With your leave, I would suggest that they stay.”

Master Brandt and Master Searthu nodded in approval without speaking a word.  The two acolytes smiled with distinct pleasure at being allowed to see the interrogation first hand.  Master Buschlerre turned to the priestess and continued his speech once he knew of the approval of the other masters.  “Madam, we respect your life although we regret that you have chosen to follow such an evil goddess with it.  However, you should know that so long as you cooperate there will be no harm that comes to you.  Please nod if you understand this fact.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It was almost an hour before Brandt received word from either of the acolytes. Barra was the first to return to Brandt’s office. The priestess of Yrraxea continued to lie on the floor.

The acolyte waited for Brandt to address him first in the tradition of defense taught to him by Master Buschlerre. “Yes, Barra? You have news of your master’s progress?”

Barra nodded his head. He was shorter than the more mature and experienced Brandt. “Yes, Master Brandt. Master Buschlerre wishes to inform you that a room is in the process of being prepared for the interrogation. Would you like the details in a more private location?”

Brandt smiled politely and shook his head to decline the offer. “No, Barra. If Master Buschlerre is preparing the room, I do not believe that we have much to fear in the priestess’ ability to counteract our plans. Whether she knows about the preparations or not, I do not think it will matter.”

Brandt’s words were a simple display of bravado. He was confident in Buschlerre’s ability to prepare the room for the interrogation, of course. What Brandt couldn’t be sure of was the capacity for spell casting of the priestess. His show of words was mostly for her benefit. If he could convince the priestess that he truly believed that she could do nothing, then she might cooperate more readily.

The acolyte nodded and continued. “Master Buschlerre is confident that if we head toward the room immediately that it will be ready when we arrive. The only question is whether or not Master Searthu has been able to be raised. Can the interrogation begin if he is not present?”

Brandt nodded. He stood so that his head was unable to be seen by the priestess. He knew that she did not need access to that particular batch of information. “We can go.”

Brandt took several seconds to kneel down to the priestess’ level. He knew that so long as she was gagged and bound that she could be no threat to him. He was innately curious to see if she could even be a threat without all of the precautions. “We have a choice, priestess. We can travel through the temple in a civilized fashion and treat you with respect. Or, if you force my hand we can simply teleport into the room. The choice is yours, of course. Nod your head if you would like the opportunity to stretch your legs and walk down the hall.”

The priestess stared deeply into Brandt’s eyes. The follower of Reah seemed to be able to back up his aggressive stance form her perspective. He had already proven his ability to teleport more than one person. She had no reason to doubt that any of his other claims would be false. She nodded her head in support of the idea that she would behave.

Brandt smiled at the woman. “Good. I like being able to treat people with the respect that they deserve.” Brandt stood up to his full height and turned back to the acolyte. “Barra, help the priestess to her feet, please. And do be careful to not disturb the bindings or the gag.”

Brandt smiled at the acolyte and watched as Barra helped the woman to her feet. Together the pair of temple staff escorted the woman down the hall. They would need to walk through a back passageway through the temple to avoid walking past the entrance and the rooms designated for healing. There would be no need to have this woman walk past any potential number of innocent citizens waiting for healing in the other hallway.

Brandt turned and opened the door to allow the priestess to enter and to be followed by the acolyte. As he did, he saw Thomas walking quickly towards his position. Brandt smiled as he saw an indication that Master Searthu had successfully been alerted to the need.

The acolyte strode towards Brandt with a certain spring in his step. “Master Brandt! Master Searthu has been directed to the room that Master Buschlerre is preparing. I have been sent to tell you that all is indeed ready to await our guest. Master Searthu is excited and sends his regard for allowing him to assist you in this matter.”

Brandt nodded and smiled even more broadly. “Very good, Thomas. Follow the priestess with Barra, if you will. You can help to ensure that she thinks twice before doing anything that would be considered foolish.”

The acolyte took his place slightly behind Barra. Barra was the more veteran acolyte and Thomas’ position would naturally be behind Barra. Either way, Brandt felt more secure about traveling with the priestess with a total of three, even if two of his number were acolytes.

Within another minute the trio had escorted the priestess to the room where the interrogation was to take place. The elf priest of Reah, Master Buschlerre, was at the door to greet Brandt and the acolytes. Master Buschlerre looked to be of a middle age for an elf. He wore his hair long and pulled back into a single pony tail off the back of his head. The hair was pulled back so as to hide the pointed ears that would otherwise have readily distinguished him as an elf. Instead, it was his thin frame, alert eyes, and pale skin that gave his race away to most observers. His robes were identical to Brandt with the exception that they were lighter in color and had an additional strip of color sown just above the bottom hem.

The elf reached out a hand and greeted Brandt. “Good day, Master Brandt. Well, I suppose by now it is good evening, although without going outside too often it is easy for me to lose track of the time. You have had quite an interesting day, no?”

An amused expression passed over Brandt’s face. It did not surprise him at all that the temple’s current master of aegis magic spent little time outside the temple. It did surprise him that Buschlerre had spoken first instead of waiting to be addressed. There was no doubt that Buschlerre was the superior in age and had the right to greet Brandt instead of the other way around. However, it certainly was not his custom. The discovery of the priestess must have been enough to draw the defensive master out of his shell. With an odd smile on his face, Brandt replied to the elf priest. “Yes, quite. You were told of the priestess of Yrraxea that was discovered in Huetown?”

Buschlerre nodded in return. “Interesting, indeed. I can hardly wait for what we are about to discover tonight.” A genuine smile of anticipation passed over his face.

Inside the room, Master Searthu stood waiting patiently. When he heard the greeting from Master Buschlerre, he approached the door. He stood a mere five foot and eight inches tall, although that was an average height for an Ehrmenae. His ears rested flat against his head in the traditional configuration of the Ehrmenai people. The cartilage on the outside of the ears of the Ehrmanai fused with the skin behind it, allowing a small yet thick guard to grow in protection over the vital sense organ. His narrow eyes, slim mouth, and thin nose also easily identified him as an Ehrmenae. However, perhaps the most interesting facial development was the bony nasal carapace that was common among his people. The carapace extended over his nose, eyebrows, and a full third of his forehead before merging back into his skull. It was almost as if he wore a natural nosepiece from a helm without the rest of the headgear.

Searthu’s robes contained two less stripes than Brandt’s, although the robes themselves were the same color and style. He was the least in both rank and age of the three priests of Reah, and this alone caused him to want to wait his turn rather than speaking in greeting once he had heard Brandt’s voice in the hallway. As Brandt turned the corner and was shown into the room by Master Buschlerre, Master Searthu stood up to the fullest height he could gain from his shorter body.

Brandt stopped and extended his hand in greeting to Searthu. “Master Searthu, I am glad that you were able to come tonight. I hope I did not interrupt your plans with family in light of my discovery?”

Searthu smiled. “Are you kidding? A discovery like this does not happen all that often! I am excited to be a part of this. I had not left the office for the evening, and my family will no doubt understand when I return home and speak of what kept me delayed!”

It was clear to Brandt that both of the men who had been summoned were pleased to be here. While the masters passed along their greetings, the acolytes had detained the priestess of Yrraxea in the hallway. Once the pleasantries were said, Master Buschlerre motioned for the acolytes to bring the woman into the small room.

The room was only about twenty feet square. It proved to be a rather tight fit for the priestess of Yrraxea, the three priests of Reah, and their two acolytes. Master Buschlerre spoke first once all were present in the room and the door to the hallway was shut tight. “Fellow masters, I know we are tight in here, but I believe this experience would go quite far in the training of these two acolytes that have been summoned by Master Brandt. With your leave, I would suggest that they stay.”

Master Brandt and Master Searthu nodded in approval without speaking a word. The two acolytes smiled with distinct pleasure at being allowed to see the interrogation first hand. Master Buschlerre turned to the priestess and continued his speech once he knew of the approval of the other masters. “Madam, we respect your life although we regret that you have chosen to follow such an evil goddess with it. However, you should know that so long as you cooperate there will be no harm that comes to you. Please nod if you understand this fact.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 5, 2007)

The priestess of Yrraxea was beginning to feel the pressure of the situation at this point.  She has not bargained for five.  There might have been some kind of hope against three, even if they were masters.  But there would be little she could do against all five.  Reluctantly, she nodded in the affirmative as a response to the priest’s bid for cooperation.

Buschlerre continued his explanation of the proceedings.  “Excellent.  You should know, then, that this room has been equipped with a certain magical trigger.  As you no doubt already know, I am a defensive master.  Yet, we cannot take any risks.  The room has been equipped with a magical contingency.  If I am required to cast any spell at any time, the contingency will be triggered.  First of all, the room will be bathed in a magic that prevents you from lying to us.  It will also prevent us from lying to you, but since we do not intend to lie we need not fear it.  The next spell is already triggered onto you.  The spell will blind you.  The blindness is permanent without magical aid, although I control magic capable of reversing it.  A third spell that has already been triggered upon you is one that will slow your movements.  You will be slowed to a fraction of your speed and at the mercy of the rest of us who will be moving quite fast from your slowed perspective.  Finally, you will be the victim of a simple hex.  The hex will drain what little power remains after the other three spells have taken their effect.  Do you understand what I am telling you?”

The priestess of Yrraxea nodded and Buschlerre turned towards his own personal acolyte.  “Barra, I believe that our priestess here has agreed to play nice and talk.  Would you be so kind as to remove her bindings?  Once her hands are free, I will allow her to remove her own gag.  She knows what will happen to her if she disobeys.”

Barra nodded in response.  His eyes focused hard upon his master as if to draw the necessary strength from him.  The acolyte knew that in undoing the woman’s bindings he would be closest to the priestess should she desire to rebel and lash out in any sort of attack.  However, his long studies in the way of Reah under Master Buschlerre taught him that trust was important.  He would need to trust his master’s contingent protection much in the same way that Master Brandt had trusted Master Buschlerre and Master Searthu to handle the interrogation.

Slowly Barra approached the priestess and undid her bindings.  The priestess stretched her hands and winced as she brought her stiff arms forward.  She looked to Buschlerre for approval and once the priest of Reah nodded his head in approval she lifted her hands and undid the gag.

Few but Buschlerre were prepared for the speed in what happened next.  The woman lifted her hands in a movement that caused her tremendous pain.  Her face winced as her lips formed the words.  “Par Ah…”  Fortunately for the interrogation squad, she was unable to complete her spell.  

Master Buschlerre had been anticipating her deception.  He knew that she would go back against her word.  The temple’s master of the arts of the aegis cried out in an interruption to the priestess of Yrraxea’s spell.  “Kashan!”  His voice blasted across the room and struck the priestess hard.  She was unable to focus enough to complete her own magical spell and the yellow light that had been gathering around her body faded into nonexistence.  

Buschlerre looked to the woman and could only smile as four distinct effects flashed into existence.  First, a low resonating hum drummed faintly as background noise.  The hum was not enough to drown out conversation, but it was enough to irritate the mind sue to its persistence.

The defensive master smiled.  “That hum implies that we are all now incapable of lying, even myself.”

No sooner had Bruschlerre stopped talking than a brilliant light flashed directly above the priestess of Yrraxea.  She cried out in pain as the room blackened from her perspective.  She was no longer able to distinguish the walls from the ceiling.  She was also unable to distinguish any of the people in the room, including her own hand in front of her face.

Buschlerre continued the explanation as the second effect took hold.  “You are now blind, but you know that.  Believe me when I tell you that the room has not changed for any of us.”

The priestess’s shrill cry suddenly dropped in an octave.  From the perspective of the followers of Reah, the priestess’ motions and voice slowed considerably.  Until someone spoke, the priestess herself didn’t notice any difference since she was blind and unable to judge herself against the others in the room.

Buschlerre spoke intentionally slow so as to still be able to make sense to the priestess.  His voice still sounded higher in pitch than normal to the priestess’ ears.  “Now you have been brought to a more manageable speed.  Trust me when I tell you that it causes me great strain to talk slow enough for you to understand me.”

Finally, the priestess felt her strength drain from her body.  Her breathing became significantly labored.  Her appendages grew heavy as if encumbered by great weights.  Her shoulders sagged and her back began to hunch over as if her body was overcome by some genetic deformity which had crippled her muscles.

Buschlerre smiled, although it was clear that he no longer enjoyed watching the effects of his magic upon the woman.  Once more he spoke slowly so that the priestess of Yrraxea would be able to understand him.  “Now, you have been hexed.  I am sorry that you felt it necessary to choose this path.”

The elf priest turned to Searthu and spoke at his regular speed.  With respect to the priestess of Yrraxea, she could not make out Buschlerre’s words as they were spoken too fast for her slow ears to distinguish words.  Buschlerre nodded to Searthu and gave the order to commence as he let out a significant sigh.  “She is yours to command, Searthu.  She is greatly weakened, of course.  Get the information we need, but do not abuse her position.”

The Ehrmanae priest nodded and turned his attention to the blind priestess.  He spoke slowly, but it was obvious that he was not as skilled as Master Buschlerre at the slowed speech.  “I will finish your spell for you.  Par Ah-thaal.”  Instantly his body was coated in a brilliant yellow aura, although the effect was lost on the blind priestess.

However, despite being unable to see the light the true effect of the spell was not lost upon the follower of Yrraxea.  Her head immediately snapped to the direction of Master Searthu as he slowly spoke to her.  “You are incapable of lying.  Tell me, who has brought you here.”

The priestess now spoke without hesitation.  The Ehrmanae priest of Reah had all but charmed her into telling him the truth.  Her voice was almost painfully slow to listen, but the interrogation team could make out the words if they concentrated intently.  “I was contacted by another member of the Ephistaemi.  His organizational name is Bloodseeker.”

Searthu continued the interrogation.  “And what is your organizational name?”

The priestess replied, again without hesitation.  “I am called Darkbringer.”

Searthu nodded to his fellow priests.  He was pleased that his spell was working so well in conjunction with the other spells from Buschlerre.  “And Bloodseeker funds your efforts?”

The priestess shook her head.  “No.  Bloodseeker works for Lord Ironblood as our spy.  I was paid independently from Lord Ironblood’s sources and independently from Bloodseeker.  Our pay was not connected to each other.”

Searthu wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.  “Then who paid you?”

Darkbringer shrugged her shoulders.  The motion was painfully slow to watch for the priests and acolytes of Reah, although eventually the priestess spoke again.  “I do not know.  I never met my financier.”

Searthu spoke once more.  “And what were you paid to accomplish without meeting your financier?”

Darkbringer smiled as if she recalled a pleasant memory.  “I was paid to destroy the villa in Huetown while the residents were away.  I was told that I was allowed to kill the few workers who remained behind while the rest went to Barghost to be married.  It was imperative that the four and the father were not harmed or present to watch the villa burn.”

Searthu and Buschlerre both looked to Brandt.  They didn’t need to speak.  Brandt told them all they needed to know with a nod of approval.  Darkbringer was still telling the truth.  The interrogation would need to continue for some time, but their information was reliable.  Yet if the early indications were worth using to make any predictions, they would not find many answers in the priestess of Yrraxea.  They would only find more questions.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The priestess of Yrraxea was beginning to feel the pressure of the situation at this point. She has not bargained for five. There might have been some kind of hope against three, even if they were masters. But there would be little she could do against all five. Reluctantly, she nodded in the affirmative as a response to the priest’s bid for cooperation.

Buschlerre continued his explanation of the proceedings. “Excellent. You should know, then, that this room has been equipped with a certain magical trigger. As you no doubt already know, I am a defensive master. Yet, we cannot take any risks. The room has been equipped with a magical contingency. If I am required to cast any spell at any time, the contingency will be triggered. First of all, the room will be bathed in a magic that prevents you from lying to us. It will also prevent us from lying to you, but since we do not intend to lie we need not fear it. The next spell is already triggered onto you. The spell will blind you. The blindness is permanent without magical aid, although I control magic capable of reversing it. A third spell that has already been triggered upon you is one that will slow your movements. You will be slowed to a fraction of your speed and at the mercy of the rest of us who will be moving quite fast from your slowed perspective. Finally, you will be the victim of a simple hex. The hex will drain what little power remains after the other three spells have taken their effect. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

The priestess of Yrraxea nodded and Buschlerre turned towards his own personal acolyte. “Barra, I believe that our priestess here has agreed to play nice and talk. Would you be so kind as to remove her bindings? Once her hands are free, I will allow her to remove her own gag. She knows what will happen to her if she disobeys.”

Barra nodded in response. His eyes focused hard upon his master as if to draw the necessary strength from him. The acolyte knew that in undoing the woman’s bindings he would be closest to the priestess should she desire to rebel and lash out in any sort of attack. However, his long studies in the way of Reah under Master Buschlerre taught him that trust was important. He would need to trust his master’s contingent protection much in the same way that Master Brandt had trusted Master Buschlerre and Master Searthu to handle the interrogation.

Slowly Barra approached the priestess and undid her bindings. The priestess stretched her hands and winced as she brought her stiff arms forward. She looked to Buschlerre for approval and once the priest of Reah nodded his head in approval she lifted her hands and undid the gag.

Few but Buschlerre were prepared for the speed in what happened next. The woman lifted her hands in a movement that caused her tremendous pain. Her face winced as her lips formed the words. “Par Ah…” Fortunately for the interrogation squad, she was unable to complete her spell. 

Master Buschlerre had been anticipating her deception. He knew that she would go back against her word. The temple’s master of the arts of the aegis cried out in an interruption to the priestess of Yrraxea’s spell. “Kashan!” His voice blasted across the room and struck the priestess hard. She was unable to focus enough to complete her own magical spell and the yellow light that had been gathering around her body faded into nonexistence. 

Buschlerre looked to the woman and could only smile as four distinct effects flashed into existence. First, a low resonating hum drummed faintly as background noise. The hum was not enough to drown out conversation, but it was enough to irritate the mind sue to its persistence.

The defensive master smiled. “That hum implies that we are all now incapable of lying, even myself.”

No sooner had Bruschlerre stopped talking than a brilliant light flashed directly above the priestess of Yrraxea. She cried out in pain as the room blackened from her perspective. She was no longer able to distinguish the walls from the ceiling. She was also unable to distinguish any of the people in the room, including her own hand in front of her face.

Buschlerre continued the explanation as the second effect took hold. “You are now blind, but you know that. Believe me when I tell you that the room has not changed for any of us.”

The priestess’s shrill cry suddenly dropped in an octave. From the perspective of the followers of Reah, the priestess’ motions and voice slowed considerably. Until someone spoke, the priestess herself didn’t notice any difference since she was blind and unable to judge herself against the others in the room.

Buschlerre spoke intentionally slow so as to still be able to make sense to the priestess. His voice still sounded higher in pitch than normal to the priestess’ ears. “Now you have been brought to a more manageable speed. Trust me when I tell you that it causes me great strain to talk slow enough for you to understand me.”

Finally, the priestess felt her strength drain from her body. Her breathing became significantly labored. Her appendages grew heavy as if encumbered by great weights. Her shoulders sagged and her back began to hunch over as if her body was overcome by some genetic deformity which had crippled her muscles.

Buschlerre smiled, although it was clear that he no longer enjoyed watching the effects of his magic upon the woman. Once more he spoke slowly so that the priestess of Yrraxea would be able to understand him. “Now, you have been hexed. I am sorry that you felt it necessary to choose this path.”

The elf priest turned to Searthu and spoke at his regular speed. With respect to the priestess of Yrraxea, she could not make out Buschlerre’s words as they were spoken too fast for her slow ears to distinguish words. Buschlerre nodded to Searthu and gave the order to commence as he let out a significant sigh. “She is yours to command, Searthu. She is greatly weakened, of course. Get the information we need, but do not abuse her position.”

The Ehrmanae priest nodded and turned his attention to the blind priestess. He spoke slowly, but it was obvious that he was not as skilled as Master Buschlerre at the slowed speech. “I will finish your spell for you. Par Ah-thaal.” Instantly his body was coated in a brilliant yellow aura, although the effect was lost on the blind priestess.

However, despite being unable to see the light the true effect of the spell was not lost upon the follower of Yrraxea. Her head immediately snapped to the direction of Master Searthu as he slowly spoke to her. “You are incapable of lying. Tell me, who has brought you here.”

The priestess now spoke without hesitation. The Ehrmanae priest of Reah had all but charmed her into telling him the truth. Her voice was almost painfully slow to listen, but the interrogation team could make out the words if they concentrated intently. “I was contacted by another member of the Ephistaemi. His organizational name is Bloodseeker.”

Searthu continued the interrogation. “And what is your organizational name?”

The priestess replied, again without hesitation. “I am called Darkbringer.”

Searthu nodded to his fellow priests. He was pleased that his spell was working so well in conjunction with the other spells from Buschlerre. “And Bloodseeker funds your efforts?”

The priestess shook her head. “No. Bloodseeker works for Lord Ironblood as our spy. I was paid independently from Lord Ironblood’s sources and independently from Bloodseeker. Our pay was not connected to each other.”

Searthu wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Then who paid you?”

Darkbringer shrugged her shoulders. The motion was painfully slow to watch for the priests and acolytes of Reah, although eventually the priestess spoke again. “I do not know. I never met my financier.”

Searthu spoke once more. “And what were you paid to accomplish without meeting your financier?”

Darkbringer smiled as if she recalled a pleasant memory. “I was paid to destroy the villa in Huetown while the residents were away. I was told that I was allowed to kill the few workers who remained behind while the rest went to Barghost to be married. It was imperative that the four and the father were not harmed or present to watch the villa burn.”

Searthu and Buschlerre both looked to Brandt. They didn’t need to speak. Brandt told them all they needed to know with a nod of approval. Darkbringer was still telling the truth. The interrogation would need to continue for some time, but their information was reliable. Yet if the early indications were worth using to make any predictions, they would not find many answers in the priestess of Yrraxea. They would only find more questions.
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Feb 7, 2007)

*Chapter Three: THE INFERTILE HUNT*

The next morning Rhema, Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion woke up with the sun.  They knew that Brandt had no doubt already questioned the priestess of Yrraxea.  They saddled up their horses and headed to Fingerdale to try and meet with the powerful priest of the temple of Reah.  Iasho stayed behind to watch over the remains of the villa and begin to plan a new layout for his villa that would rise again from the stones and timbers of the land.

The trip to Fingerdale passed uneventfully and well before noon the foursome found themselves hitching their horses to the rails provided in front of the temple.  The entered the temple and looked for the nearest acolyte.  As they had come to expect, the party did not need to look hard.  

An acolyte waited for their entrance and immediately approached.  As she stepped forward, another acolyte took her place in waiting for the next patron of the temple.  The girl who approached the party looked as though she had not yet hit her growth spurt.  She couldn’t have been much more than ten years old.  As she spoke, the elevated pitch of her voice confirmed that she had not yet begun to hit puberty.  “Sirs and Madams?  How can the temple assist you today?”

Ischarus looked down to the girl.  His large frame dwarfed the girl, and he tried to smile pleasantly as he spoke.  “We wish to see Master Brandt.  I believe he is expecting us, although we do not have an appointment.”

The girl thought for a moment and replied.  “Do you mind waiting here in the lobby while I go and check on the status of Master Brandt this morning?  I know he was here late last evening.  I do not know if he is seeing clients for the day.”

Rhema smiled politely. “I doubt he will refuse to see us.  However, we will certainly wait for you to speak to the master.”

The girl bowed deeply and backed away until she was about 30 feet down the hallway.  Once she was far enough away to not seem rude, she quickly spun on her heels and trotted down the stone hall.  The faint patter of her bare feet could be heard as she jogged away towards Brandt’s office.

She returned much more quickly than any of the party expected.  She had hardly been out of their sight for thirty seconds before the patter of her feet could be heard once more and this time they were returning towards the party.  Another ten seconds later and the girl turned the corner and came into view.  “Master Brandt says that you are welcome to come and meet with him.”

She had no sooner gotten the words out of her mouth than Brandt appeared around the corner of the hallway and into full view.  His eyes carried dark circles underneath them as if he had not slept for the night.  His face was weary and he carried his arms as if they were great weights.  However, he smiled when the party came into view.

Once he had closed the gap enough to speak at a volume only slightly higher than a whisper, the veteran priest addressed the party.  “I had a monitor on the temple doors that was searching for you, I figured that you would come.  I was alerted to your presence before the acolyte had spoken her first word.  But, I trust that your night passed far easier than mine?  I also hope that your journey here was free of trouble?”

Semeion nodded, smiling at the man who had unofficially become his own mentor.  “Indeed, sir.  Our night was relatively easy.  Our watches proved unnecessary, although still a wise precaution.  And our journey was easy this morning.  However, if I may say so it appears that your night was much the opposite.”

Brandt nodded and continued to speak in his hushed tone.  “Quite.  However, I will certainly say more when we have gone into my office.”  The priest turned to the acolyte and smiled.  “Aurelle, you performed marvelously.  Please return to your post.”  The girl beamed at the praise and trotted down to her station by the temple entrance.

The foursome followed Brandt down the familiar hallway and into his office.  Once the priest had closed the door and directed the party to sit comfortably, he began to speak.  “It was a long night of research well after the interrogation was concluded.”

Rhema leaned forward in her chair.  She was especially curious at the news that Brandt could give to her regarding the destruction of the only home she’d known since childhood.  “I am assuming that you found out who is responsible and why this act was committed?”

Charis chuckled at Rhema’s words.  “By all means, Rhema, just cut straight to the chase.  Don’t worry about anything except the most important fact first, right?”

Brandt smiled and interrupted before Rhema could offer up any kind of retort.  “In truth, we found more questions than answers.  We were unable to find out the rationale for the destruction of the villa.  It would seem that the priestess of Yrraxea didn’t know herself.”

Rhema’s eyes grew wide.  “What?  You weren’t able to find out who was responsible?”  She attempted to stand, but Ischarus reached out a hand and placed it upon her knee.  She tried to shrug him off, but was unable to accomplish her desire.  Since she was restrained, she simply squirmed uncomfortably in her seat for a few seconds.

Brandt replied honestly to Rhema’s assertion.  “That does not mean that our interrogation was altogether unsuccessful, either.  We were able to find out a few important details.  I believe that these details will be quite significant when it comes to your next step.”

Ischarus smiled at Brandt’s offer.  “Well, then.  Do tell.  Any information is important at this stage.  Considering all we know is that the Ephistaemi are involved, anything that you can add will be appreciated.”

Brandt looked directly to Rhema.  “We learned that the priestess’ name was Darkbringer among the Ephistaemi.  We also learned that she was working with another member of the Ephistaemi called Bloodseeker.”

Charis frowned disapprovingly and slightly stuck out her tongue.  “Such dark names.  Obviously we’re dealing with the most pleasant of the Ephistaemi this time around.”  Her tone had taken on a distinctly sarcastic tone.

Brandt smirked at Charis’ response.  “Obviously!  But that should not surprise you, considering what they were responsible for accomplishing while we were all away for the ceremony.”

Charis nodded.  “True enough.”

Brandt picked up his story where he had left off.  “However, we were not able to completely discern how Bloodseeker fit into the equation.  Bloodseeker did not hire Darkbringer.  As close as we could tell, Bloodseeker was more like a reference.”

Rhema chewed the inside of her cheek as she churned the information through her head.  “A recruiter, perhaps?”

Brandt pursed his lips and thought for a moment before speaking.  “Perhaps.  Although it was clear that Bloodseeker did not pay Darkbringer.  Their connection was minimal at best.  They didn’t work together on this project, yet I got the distinct impression that without Bloodseeker this would not have been possible.”

Ischarus also churned the information through his mind.  “Well, if they’re not directly connected then who was in charge of Darkbringer?  Who gave her orders and paid her for the task?”

Brandt shook his head in disgust.  “That’s the part we were never able to figure out.  The priestess of Yrraxea did not know!  Trust me, I am sure that our interrogation methods were working properly.  The answers she did know were given immediately without coercion once Master Searthu applied his magic.  But she seemed to know absolutely nothing about who actually was in charge of paying her off and giving her orders.  Our best guess is that the information came through Bloodseeker, although that is sketchy at best.”

Rhema sighed deeply.  The frustration of feeling blocked from useful information was getting the better of her.  “Then where do we find this Bloodseeker?”

Brandt breathed in deeply and looked to the ground before returning his gaze upon Rhema and answering the legitimate question.  “This is the disturbing part, and it is the part that had me up doing research most of the night.  Bloodseeker works for Lord Ironblood.”

Charis chuckled again.  “Huh.  I wonder. Could there be any connection to the name?  Bloodseeker works for Ironblood.  That seems too simple.”

Brandt’s eyes glistened with a newness of thought.  His eyes wrinkled as he wondered how such a simple detail could have escaped his analysis.  Had he been looking so deeply that he missed the most obvious answer?

He didn’t get a chance to answer before Rhema jumped to the next obvious conclusion.  “You are telling me that my father has been betrayed by Lord Ironblood?  All the tribute that my father paid was for naught?”

Brandt nodded.  “That is one possibility.  The unfortunate fact is that we’ll not know unless this Bloodseeker can be found and brought in for questioning.  I imagine that Bloodseeker knows far more about the motivation behind that attack than the priestess of Yrraxea.  Once the interrogation had begun last night it was quite clear that Darkbringer was simply a hired tool to do a job.  She was hired because she wouldn’t ask too many questions.  The challenge of the destruction of the villa stood before her and she didn’t care about the motivation.  Since she didn’t care why the villa needed to be destroyed, she was the perfect tool.  She could be used and discarded without fear of her revealing too much.”

Ischarus locked eyes with Rhema for a few seconds.  He could almost hear her thoughts leaping out of her eyes, which were growing darker with nearly every sentence coming out of Brandt’s mouth.  Ischarus seemed to subconsciously respond to Rhema’s thoughts and then he spoke.  “Well, then.  It seems like we are at a standstill until we find this Bloodseeker.”

Brandt rose to his feet before any of the party members could stand.  “There is one other disturbing piece of information of which you should all be aware.  Darkbringer was told to burn the villa at that specific time.  It was not a coincidence.  The attack was planned because they knew that you all would be away.  That includes your father, Rhema.  They knew that you would all be away.”

Semeion frowned.  “Then we face a foe that wants us alive.  At least for now, that is.  We can likely rule out any enemy in Quehalost, then, can’t we?  The denizens of Quehalost would likely want us dead, not alive.”

The rest of the party nodded with Semeion’s conclusion.  In any regard, they were now done here for the time being.  Until they found the one called Bloodseeker, there would likely not be any advance in the quest to find the responsible party.  Bloodseeker had to be found, and likely he had to be found quickly.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Three: THE INFERTILE HUNT

The next morning Rhema, Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion woke up with the sun. They knew that Brandt had no doubt already questioned the priestess of Yrraxea. They saddled up their horses and headed to Fingerdale to try and meet with the powerful priest of the temple of Reah. Iasho stayed behind to watch over the remains of the villa and begin to plan a new layout for his villa that would rise again from the stones and timbers of the land.

The trip to Fingerdale passed uneventfully and well before noon the foursome found themselves hitching their horses to the rails provided in front of the temple. The entered the temple and looked for the nearest acolyte. As they had come to expect, the party did not need to look hard. 

An acolyte waited for their entrance and immediately approached. As she stepped forward, another acolyte took her place in waiting for the next patron of the temple. The girl who approached the party looked as though she had not yet hit her growth spurt. She couldn’t have been much more than ten years old. As she spoke, the elevated pitch of her voice confirmed that she had not yet begun to hit puberty. “Sirs and Madams? How can the temple assist you today?”

Ischarus looked down to the girl. His large frame dwarfed the girl, and he tried to smile pleasantly as he spoke. “We wish to see Master Brandt. I believe he is expecting us, although we do not have an appointment.”

The girl thought for a moment and replied. “Do you mind waiting here in the lobby while I go and check on the status of Master Brandt this morning? I know he was here late last evening. I do not know if he is seeing clients for the day.”

Rhema smiled politely. “I doubt he will refuse to see us. However, we will certainly wait for you to speak to the master.”

The girl bowed deeply and backed away until she was about 30 feet down the hallway. Once she was far enough away to not seem rude, she quickly spun on her heels and trotted down the stone hall. The faint patter of her bare feet could be heard as she jogged away towards Brandt’s office.

She returned much more quickly than any of the party expected. She had hardly been out of their sight for thirty seconds before the patter of her feet could be heard once more and this time they were returning towards the party. Another ten seconds later and the girl turned the corner and came into view. “Master Brandt says that you are welcome to come and meet with him.”

She had no sooner gotten the words out of her mouth than Brandt appeared around the corner of the hallway and into full view. His eyes carried dark circles underneath them as if he had not slept for the night. His face was weary and he carried his arms as if they were great weights. However, he smiled when the party came into view.

Once he had closed the gap enough to speak at a volume only slightly higher than a whisper, the veteran priest addressed the party. “I had a monitor on the temple doors that was searching for you, I figured that you would come. I was alerted to your presence before the acolyte had spoken her first word. But, I trust that your night passed far easier than mine? I also hope that your journey here was free of trouble?”

Semeion nodded, smiling at the man who had unofficially become his own mentor. “Indeed, sir. Our night was relatively easy. Our watches proved unnecessary, although still a wise precaution. And our journey was easy this morning. However, if I may say so it appears that your night was much the opposite.”

Brandt nodded and continued to speak in his hushed tone. “Quite. However, I will certainly say more when we have gone into my office.” The priest turned to the acolyte and smiled. “Aurelle, you performed marvelously. Please return to your post.” The girl beamed at the praise and trotted down to her station by the temple entrance.

The foursome followed Brandt down the familiar hallway and into his office. Once the priest had closed the door and directed the party to sit comfortably, he began to speak. “It was a long night of research well after the interrogation was concluded.”

Rhema leaned forward in her chair. She was especially curious at the news that Brandt could give to her regarding the destruction of the only home she’d known since childhood. “I am assuming that you found out who is responsible and why this act was committed?”

Charis chuckled at Rhema’s words. “By all means, Rhema, just cut straight to the chase. Don’t worry about anything except the most important fact first, right?”

Brandt smiled and interrupted before Rhema could offer up any kind of retort. “In truth, we found more questions than answers. We were unable to find out the rationale for the destruction of the villa. It would seem that the priestess of Yrraxea didn’t know herself.”

Rhema’s eyes grew wide. “What? You weren’t able to find out who was responsible?” She attempted to stand, but Ischarus reached out a hand and placed it upon her knee. She tried to shrug him off, but was unable to accomplish her desire. Since she was restrained, she simply squirmed uncomfortably in her seat for a few seconds.

Brandt replied honestly to Rhema’s assertion. “That does not mean that our interrogation was altogether unsuccessful, either. We were able to find out a few important details. I believe that these details will be quite significant when it comes to your next step.”

Ischarus smiled at Brandt’s offer. “Well, then. Do tell. Any information is important at this stage. Considering all we know is that the Ephistaemi are involved, anything that you can add will be appreciated.”

Brandt looked directly to Rhema. “We learned that the priestess’ name was Darkbringer among the Ephistaemi. We also learned that she was working with another member of the Ephistaemi called Bloodseeker.”

Charis frowned disapprovingly and slightly stuck out her tongue. “Such dark names. Obviously we’re dealing with the most pleasant of the Ephistaemi this time around.” Her tone had taken on a distinctly sarcastic tone.

Brandt smirked at Charis’ response. “Obviously! But that should not surprise you, considering what they were responsible for accomplishing while we were all away for the ceremony.”

Charis nodded. “True enough.”

Brandt picked up his story where he had left off. “However, we were not able to completely discern how Bloodseeker fit into the equation. Bloodseeker did not hire Darkbringer. As close as we could tell, Bloodseeker was more like a reference.”

Rhema chewed the inside of her cheek as she churned the information through her head. “A recruiter, perhaps?”

Brandt pursed his lips and thought for a moment before speaking. “Perhaps. Although it was clear that Bloodseeker did not pay Darkbringer. Their connection was minimal at best. They didn’t work together on this project, yet I got the distinct impression that without Bloodseeker this would not have been possible.”

Ischarus also churned the information through his mind. “Well, if they’re not directly connected then who was in charge of Darkbringer? Who gave her orders and paid her for the task?”

Brandt shook his head in disgust. “That’s the part we were never able to figure out. The priestess of Yrraxea did not know! Trust me, I am sure that our interrogation methods were working properly. The answers she did know were given immediately without coercion once Master Searthu applied his magic. But she seemed to know absolutely nothing about who actually was in charge of paying her off and giving her orders. Our best guess is that the information came through Bloodseeker, although that is sketchy at best.”

Rhema sighed deeply. The frustration of feeling blocked from useful information was getting the better of her. “Then where do we find this Bloodseeker?”

Brandt breathed in deeply and looked to the ground before returning his gaze upon Rhema and answering the legitimate question. “This is the disturbing part, and it is the part that had me up doing research most of the night. Bloodseeker works for Lord Ironblood.”

Charis chuckled again. “Huh. I wonder. Could there be any connection to the name? Bloodseeker works for Ironblood. That seems too simple.”

Brandt’s eyes glistened with a newness of thought. His eyes wrinkled as he wondered how such a simple detail could have escaped his analysis. Had he been looking so deeply that he missed the most obvious answer?

He didn’t get a chance to answer before Rhema jumped to the next obvious conclusion. “You are telling me that my father has been betrayed by Lord Ironblood? All the tribute that my father paid was for naught?”

Brandt nodded. “That is one possibility. The unfortunate fact is that we’ll not know unless this Bloodseeker can be found and brought in for questioning. I imagine that Bloodseeker knows far more about the motivation behind that attack than the priestess of Yrraxea. Once the interrogation had begun last night it was quite clear that Darkbringer was simply a hired tool to do a job. She was hired because she wouldn’t ask too many questions. The challenge of the destruction of the villa stood before her and she didn’t care about the motivation. Since she didn’t care why the villa needed to be destroyed, she was the perfect tool. She could be used and discarded without fear of her revealing too much.”

Ischarus locked eyes with Rhema for a few seconds. He could almost hear her thoughts leaping out of her eyes, which were growing darker with nearly every sentence coming out of Brandt’s mouth. Ischarus seemed to subconsciously respond to Rhema’s thoughts and then he spoke. “Well, then. It seems like we are at a standstill until we find this Bloodseeker.”

Brandt rose to his feet before any of the party members could stand. “There is one other disturbing piece of information of which you should all be aware. Darkbringer was told to burn the villa at that specific time. It was not a coincidence. The attack was planned because they knew that you all would be away. That includes your father, Rhema. They knew that you would all be away.”

Semeion frowned. “Then we face a foe that wants us alive. At least for now, that is. We can likely rule out any enemy in Quehalost, then, can’t we? The denizens of Quehalost would likely want us dead, not alive.”

The rest of the party nodded with Semeion’s conclusion. In any regard, they were now done here for the time being. Until they found the one called Bloodseeker, there would likely not be any advance in the quest to find the responsible party. Bloodseeker had to be found, and likely he had to be found quickly.
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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 8, 2007)

Charis led the other three out of the temple.  She seemed rather excited about the next portion of the journey.  “I don’t see what the big deal is.  Sure, we didn’t get a name and address on where to find this Bloodseeker, but now we’ve got all kind of reasons to head into the grimy parts of the town and investigate Lord Ironblood!”

Semeion shook his head at the exuberance of his Drakontos wife.  “The problem is, we don’t know where to start looking for this Bloodseeker.  It isn’t like there are taverns just for the Ephistaemi that we can walk into and request the information.  We have to find a person by a name that most people wouldn’t even know the person by!”

Ischarus shifted his eyes from side to side as he undid Elistra’s reigns from the hitching post.  He wanted to be sure that they weren’t being watched.  When he was satisfied that their coming and going had gone without notice, he spoke.  “Maybe we’re thinking about this all wrong.  Maybe it is impossible to find the Ephistaemi because the Ephistaemi are good at finding those who need them.”

Semeion allowed a look of academic enlightenment pass over his pass.  “I follow you!  You’re saying that we create some kind of need that would attract a member of the Ephistaemi.  Rather than trying to get to them, we allow them to come to us.”

Rhema shook her head from side to side and frowned.  “The problem is, we don’t have a year to wait.  We have a narrow band of time before people start forgetting what they know.  We only have a small amount of time before the trail is eventually going to run cold.”

Ischarus replied quickly.  “So, we make the need urgent.  We make the need appear to be dire enough.”

Charis grinned with excitement.  “And I think that I’ve got a plan.  Let’s look around town for a bit and see if we can’t find a tavern that looks to be in the know.  If we can find a likely place where information would be bought or sold, we can plant our need there.  It will likely spread to the right people more quickly.”

Semeion looked backwards over his shoulder as he rode down the street atop Thana.  Like Ischarus, he hadn’t been all that trusting in Fingerdale since Grick had followed them in nearly three-quarters of a year ago.  With Lord Ironblood at the helm, this city would always have the feel for needing to be cautious.  Even as he glanced backwards he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary behind him.

They rode around town for another hour while they were scouting out the town’s local taverns.  Eventually the foursome came across a smartly painted tavern.  The outside was painted a simple dark gray with black on the corners and light gray trim around the windows.  The paint job effectively allowed the tavern to blend in with many of the shadows from the surrounding buildings.  This effect didn’t hide the building more than it simply allowed the building to seem rather indistinct when compared to the rest of the buildings on the block.

Rhema pointed quickly to the shingle that hung out front which served as a sign.  The shingle read, _Shrouded Tenor._  Underneath the name was a simple engraving.  The engraving was of a man dressed in a cloak who was obviously singing.  In the engraving, the man’s cloak was almost completely pulled up around his head.  As she took in the sign, Rhema nodded with agreement.  “This looks like the right kind of place.  Don’t you get the name?”

Semeion nodded slowly as if he was unsure of the intended truth of Rhema’s assertion.  Charis and Ischarus both looked at Rhema as if they didn’t follow her declaration at all.  Their eyes continued to flash between Rhema’s face and the shingle as if there was some obvious truth that they had missed.  Finally, they looked to one another and shrugged their shoulders.

Rhema smiled expectantly in the direction of Ischarus and Charis.  “Wait, you two don’t get it?  It’s called the _Shrouded Tenor._”

Ischarus smirked and laughed while glancing to Charis.  “By the gods, then it is settled!  She can read!”  Charis allowed a hearty laugh to escape her mouth with regard to Ischarus’ comment.

Rhema looked less than pleased.  “Muscular buffoons, both of you!”  Her tone was clearly one of teasing, although it quickly switched to seriousness for the explanation that followed her cynical comment.  “You know, because other words for shrouded are hidden or covered.  And other words for tenor are intention or meaning.  So the name of this place could really be the hidden meaning.”

Ischarus raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded his head.  He wore a look upon his face as if Rhema was obviously grasping at straws with this explanation.  However, he dismounted in support of her idea anyway.

Charis smirked and watched Ischarus dismount.  “Yeah, because you know that the tavern’s logo of a man singing while wearing a cloak has nothing to do with being a shrouded tenor.  I mean, nothing would ever be that obvious.”

Semeion followed Ischarus’ example and dismounted.  “I say we give Rhema’s idea a chance.  Besides, the worst that happens is that she’s wrong.  And, since it is her father’s villa that we’re investigating, I’d just as soon be wrong about her idea that one of mine.”

Charis dismounted and tied her horse’s reigns to the provided rails in front of the tavern.  “Oh, I’m all for going inside, but I can certainly tease her while I’m going!”  Rhema turned and gave Charis a half-heartedly amused look.

The four adventurers entered through a door that had been painted light gray to match the trim around the windows.  The tavern appeared to be on the ground floor, while the family residence looked to be on the second floor.  Of course, the second floor could have been partially filled with rooms for rent as well.

Inside the tavern, the party found that it was only half full of patrons.  Most of the patrons sat in clumps of two or three, although a lone woman sat at the bar talking with the barkeeper.  The woman turned her head to smile in the direction of the party, but she quickly gave a disappointed look and returned her gaze to the bartender.  The woman appeared to be as human as Semion, Ischarus, or Charis.  Of course, in the case of the latter two it only proved how much looks could be deceiving.

The barkeeper was an interesting figure.  He was clearly a dwarf.  There was no hiding his physical stature.  His short thick appendages and his blockish head spoke much of his lineage.  His beard was neatly braided into two tails.  Each of the tails ended in a silver bead with a single red stripe running the horizontal circumference of the bead.  The hair on top of his head was cut short so that it stood up on end.

The dwarf motioned to the party for them to join him at the bar.  When Ischarus lead the rest of the party towards the bar the dwarf introduced himself.  “The name is Wolf.  Here they call me Wolf the Stout.”

Rhema couldn’t help let out another snicker.  This time, her laugh was in reference to the dwarf’s name.  When Ischarus and Charis turned to her with questioning looks upon their face, Rhema shrugged her shoulders and spoke.  “What?  I thought it was a joke.”

Ischarus raised an eyebrow in Rhema’s direction as the dwarf stared directly at Rhema and questioned her sense of humor.  “A joke?  Forgive me, milady, but I believe that you must not be accustomed to the ways of civilization.  One typically doesn’t come into a tavern and insult the innkeeper.  Well, not if you want good service and warm food, of course.”

Rhema couldn’t help but notice the amused expression upon the face of the woman who sat opposite the barkeeper.  She was beginning to seriously feel as though she was playing the part of the fool accidentally well.  “Well, it’s just that I thought the name Wolf was okay.  But Wolf the Stout, well; to be honest it was just too much to pass up.”

Ischarus shook his head slowly.  “Please tell me this isn’t going to end in a punch line about stout being another term for short.”

Rhema’s face suddenly flared up in embarrassment.  “But, of course not!  I meant that one could take the name Wolf to mean to eat or drink quickly.”

Semeion connected the ends of Rhema’s thought with his deft mind and interrupted her explanation.  “And Stout is just a dark type of ale?  So you thought the man’s name meant to guzzle dark ale?  That’s a bit presumptuous a name for a barkeeper, don’t you think?”

Rhema turned and looked to the barkeeper, who did not wear any expression upon his face that indicated to Rhema that there was any chance that he was enjoying this particular joke.  When she realized that the barkeeper wasn’t finding this funny, she looked to her feet.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I was just caught up with the double meaning of your sign and I guess I took it too far.  I feel terrible.”

The dwarf listened intently to Rhema’s apology and nodded slowly.  Suddenly his thick right arm swung out and his stubby right hand slapped Semeion on his back.  Wolf the Stout let out a boisterous laugh as he made contact with Semeion and nearly knocked the young mage to the floor.  “I got you better than you thought, girl!”

Semeion, Ischarus, and Charis all turned to the dwarf with a confused look.  Wolf saw the glance and decided to continue to explain his position.  “My lady friend here gave me that name when I opened up a few years back.  I brew my own stout, here.  To help make a name for it as a gimmick, I allowed my first one hundred patrons to submit nicknames for me when I tend the bar.  This lady here gave me the nickname Wolf the Stout.”

The woman turned to Semeion and smiled broadly.  “And yes, sir, you are quite correct.  The name is supposed to imply the act of guzzling dark ale.  I thought it was pretty ingenious, personally.”

Rhema offered up a self-conscious laugh.  She was unsure if this was still part of the joke or not.  The rest of her party wasn’t talking, either.

Wolf pointed to an empty table.  “How about you folks take a seat over there and I’ll bring you four of my home brews?”

Ischarus turned and looked at the table before turning back to the dwarf.  “If it’s all the same, sir, we’d rather just have four teas.  The ale clouds the mind’s ability to make decisions.”

The dwarf nodded and began to prepare the drinks while the party found their seats.  Soon the party had begun to produce small talk around the table while taking note of the rest of the patrons.  Rhema wore a significantly proud look upon her face due to the fact that she was the only one to get the barkeeper’s name.  Her mind was also convinced that she had gotten the double meaning of the tavern correct as well.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis led the other three out of the temple. She seemed rather excited about the next portion of the journey. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Sure, we didn’t get a name and address on where to find this Bloodseeker, but now we’ve got all kind of reasons to head into the grimy parts of the town and investigate Lord Ironblood!”

Semeion shook his head at the exuberance of his Drakontos wife. “The problem is, we don’t know where to start looking for this Bloodseeker. It isn’t like there are taverns just for the Ephistaemi that we can walk into and request the information. We have to find a person by a name that most people wouldn’t even know the person by!”

Ischarus shifted his eyes from side to side as he undid Elistra’s reigns from the hitching post. He wanted to be sure that they weren’t being watched. When he was satisfied that their coming and going had gone without notice, he spoke. “Maybe we’re thinking about this all wrong. Maybe it is impossible to find the Ephistaemi because the Ephistaemi are good at finding those who need them.”

Semeion allowed a look of academic enlightenment pass over his pass. “I follow you! You’re saying that we create some kind of need that would attract a member of the Ephistaemi. Rather than trying to get to them, we allow them to come to us.”

Rhema shook her head from side to side and frowned. “The problem is, we don’t have a year to wait. We have a narrow band of time before people start forgetting what they know. We only have a small amount of time before the trail is eventually going to run cold.”

Ischarus replied quickly. “So, we make the need urgent. We make the need appear to be dire enough.”

Charis grinned with excitement. “And I think that I’ve got a plan. Let’s look around town for a bit and see if we can’t find a tavern that looks to be in the know. If we can find a likely place where information would be bought or sold, we can plant our need there. It will likely spread to the right people more quickly.”

Semeion looked backwards over his shoulder as he rode down the street atop Thana. Like Ischarus, he hadn’t been all that trusting in Fingerdale since Grick had followed them in nearly three-quarters of a year ago. With Lord Ironblood at the helm, this city would always have the feel for needing to be cautious. Even as he glanced backwards he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary behind him.

They rode around town for another hour while they were scouting out the town’s local taverns. Eventually the foursome came across a smartly painted tavern. The outside was painted a simple dark gray with black on the corners and light gray trim around the windows. The paint job effectively allowed the tavern to blend in with many of the shadows from the surrounding buildings. This effect didn’t hide the building more than it simply allowed the building to seem rather indistinct when compared to the rest of the buildings on the block.

Rhema pointed quickly to the shingle that hung out front which served as a sign. The shingle read, Shrouded Tenor. Underneath the name was a simple engraving. The engraving was of a man dressed in a cloak who was obviously singing. In the engraving, the man’s cloak was almost completely pulled up around his head. As she took in the sign, Rhema nodded with agreement. “This looks like the right kind of place. Don’t you get the name?”

Semeion nodded slowly as if he was unsure of the intended truth of Rhema’s assertion. Charis and Ischarus both looked at Rhema as if they didn’t follow her declaration at all. Their eyes continued to flash between Rhema’s face and the shingle as if there was some obvious truth that they had missed. Finally, they looked to one another and shrugged their shoulders.

Rhema smiled expectantly in the direction of Ischarus and Charis. “Wait, you two don’t get it? It’s called the Shrouded Tenor.”

Ischarus smirked and laughed while glancing to Charis. “By the gods, then it is settled! She can read!” Charis allowed a hearty laugh to escape her mouth with regard to Ischarus’ comment.

Rhema looked less than pleased. “Muscular buffoons, both of you!” Her tone was clearly one of teasing, although it quickly switched to seriousness for the explanation that followed her cynical comment. “You know, because other words for shrouded are hidden or covered. And other words for tenor are intention or meaning. So the name of this place could really be the hidden meaning.”

Ischarus raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded his head. He wore a look upon his face as if Rhema was obviously grasping at straws with this explanation. However, he dismounted in support of her idea anyway.

Charis smirked and watched Ischarus dismount. “Yeah, because you know that the tavern’s logo of a man singing while wearing a cloak has nothing to do with being a shrouded tenor. I mean, nothing would ever be that obvious.”

Semeion followed Ischarus’ example and dismounted. “I say we give Rhema’s idea a chance. Besides, the worst that happens is that she’s wrong. And, since it is her father’s villa that we’re investigating, I’d just as soon be wrong about her idea that one of mine.”

Charis dismounted and tied her horse’s reigns to the provided rails in front of the tavern. “Oh, I’m all for going inside, but I can certainly tease her while I’m going!” Rhema turned and gave Charis a half-heartedly amused look.

The four adventurers entered through a door that had been painted light gray to match the trim around the windows. The tavern appeared to be on the ground floor, while the family residence looked to be on the second floor. Of course, the second floor could have been partially filled with rooms for rent as well.

Inside the tavern, the party found that it was only half full of patrons. Most of the patrons sat in clumps of two or three, although a lone woman sat at the bar talking with the barkeeper. The woman turned her head to smile in the direction of the party, but she quickly gave a disappointed look and returned her gaze to the bartender. The woman appeared to be as human as Semion, Ischarus, or Charis. Of course, in the case of the latter two it only proved how much looks could be deceiving.

The barkeeper was an interesting figure. He was clearly a dwarf. There was no hiding his physical stature. His short thick appendages and his blockish head spoke much of his lineage. His beard was neatly braided into two tails. Each of the tails ended in a silver bead with a single red stripe running the horizontal circumference of the bead. The hair on top of his head was cut short so that it stood up on end.

The dwarf motioned to the party for them to join him at the bar. When Ischarus lead the rest of the party towards the bar the dwarf introduced himself. “The name is Wolf. Here they call me Wolf the Stout.”

Rhema couldn’t help let out another snicker. This time, her laugh was in reference to the dwarf’s name. When Ischarus and Charis turned to her with questioning looks upon their face, Rhema shrugged her shoulders and spoke. “What? I thought it was a joke.”

Ischarus raised an eyebrow in Rhema’s direction as the dwarf stared directly at Rhema and questioned her sense of humor. “A joke? Forgive me, milady, but I believe that you must not be accustomed to the ways of civilization. One typically doesn’t come into a tavern and insult the innkeeper. Well, not if you want good service and warm food, of course.”

Rhema couldn’t help but notice the amused expression upon the face of the woman who sat opposite the barkeeper. She was beginning to seriously feel as though she was playing the part of the fool accidentally well. “Well, it’s just that I thought the name Wolf was okay. But Wolf the Stout, well; to be honest it was just too much to pass up.”

Ischarus shook his head slowly. “Please tell me this isn’t going to end in a punch line about stout being another term for short.”

Rhema’s face suddenly flared up in embarrassment. “But, of course not! I meant that one could take the name Wolf to mean to eat or drink quickly.”

Semeion connected the ends of Rhema’s thought with his deft mind and interrupted her explanation. “And Stout is just a dark type of ale? So you thought the man’s name meant to guzzle dark ale? That’s a bit presumptuous a name for a barkeeper, don’t you think?”

Rhema turned and looked to the barkeeper, who did not wear any expression upon his face that indicated to Rhema that there was any chance that he was enjoying this particular joke. When she realized that the barkeeper wasn’t finding this funny, she looked to her feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I was just caught up with the double meaning of your sign and I guess I took it too far. I feel terrible.”

The dwarf listened intently to Rhema’s apology and nodded slowly. Suddenly his thick right arm swung out and his stubby right hand slapped Semeion on his back. Wolf the Stout let out a boisterous laugh as he made contact with Semeion and nearly knocked the young mage to the floor. “I got you better than you thought, girl!”

Semeion, Ischarus, and Charis all turned to the dwarf with a confused look. Wolf saw the glance and decided to continue to explain his position. “My lady friend here gave me that name when I opened up a few years back. I brew my own stout, here. To help make a name for it as a gimmick, I allowed my first one hundred patrons to submit nicknames for me when I tend the bar. This lady here gave me the nickname Wolf the Stout.”

The woman turned to Semeion and smiled broadly. “And yes, sir, you are quite correct. The name is supposed to imply the act of guzzling dark ale. I thought it was pretty ingenious, personally.”

Rhema offered up a self-conscious laugh. She was unsure if this was still part of the joke or not. The rest of her party wasn’t talking, either.

Wolf pointed to an empty table. “How about you folks take a seat over there and I’ll bring you four of my home brews?”

Ischarus turned and looked at the table before turning back to the dwarf. “If it’s all the same, sir, we’d rather just have four teas. The ale clouds the mind’s ability to make decisions.”

The dwarf nodded and began to prepare the drinks while the party found their seats. Soon the party had begun to produce small talk around the table while taking note of the rest of the patrons. Rhema wore a significantly proud look upon her face due to the fact that she was the only one to get the barkeeper’s name. Her mind was also convinced that she had gotten the double meaning of the tavern correct as well.
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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 9, 2007)

The foursome sat within the inn and talked for over an hour.  They watched a few of the patrons come and go and quickly realized that there were a number of the clientele who were likely here for the long haul.  Besides the woman sitting at the counter, the rest of the patrons who looked as though they weren’t going anywhere looked to be of an age of retirement.  They probably had long given up the sword and shield and dropped out of Lord Ironblood’s army.  Perhaps they had already sold their stores.  It was quite possible that some of the patrons who were present had already handed over the control of the family land to their eldest son or daughter and thus could afford to work the land only sparingly.

Semeion had spent a good deal of the time perusing through his smaller spell book.  He had brought his large grimoire to Ausaphaborishan’s valley so that he could continue his studies while the final preparations for the wedding were taking place.  When he had heard that the villa had been destroyed, Semeion decided that the safest place for his grimoire was in the valley until the remaining Drakontai who had come from the villa returned.  They would bring the grimoire with them.  Until then, Semeion only had his traveling spell book to study.  While considerably smaller, it had all the spells that he needed for this particular day.

Semeion leaned forward and drew the right side of his lips back as he looked around the room and thought.  The effect that this motion had on his face was the formation of a significant dimple in the middle of his right cheek.  He leaned forward in his chair so that the majority of his torso was over the table and spoke softly.  “I don’t know, guys.  This doesn’t have the right feel.  The majority of the people who appear to be more than just occasionally patrons look rather old.  I just imagined Bloodseeker to be a younger man than the majority of the people spending their afternoon here.”

Charis leaned slightly towards Semeion and put her arm around her husband’s shoulders.  “Oh, come on, Semeion.  Whether or not this is exactly the right place doesn’t particularly matter.  We could use a little practice with our plan, so if it doesn’t happen to be the right place then that’s fine, too.  You can’t honestly think that the first place we choose to walk into is going to have exactly what we need, can you?”

Rhema and Ischarus nodded in agreement to Charis’ words.  Rhema leaned back in her chair and winked to Semeion.  “Besides, you and I have the easiest roles to play.  It is Charis and Ischarus who truly have anything at stake in the plan.  If we play our part right, nobody will even know that we were involved.”

Ischarus looked directly into Semeion’s eyes and then grinned broadly.  “Since it is typically a wise thing to do, anyway, I agree with the women.  Now, go and make yourself scarce.”

Charis interrupted Semeion before he could start into motion.  “Ischarus, slip me the handle of your sword under the table as quietly as you can.  I need to touch the blade, but I don’t want the scabbard.  As soon as I’ve touched the blade, it needs to go back into your scabbard as quickly as possible.”

Ischarus wrinkled his eyebrows in slight confusion, but he knew enough to trust his fellow Drakontos companion.  “Very well.  I’ll hold onto the scabbard while you draw out the blade.  The sword is longer than the table is wide, so it won’t come out from the scabbard.  When you are done, slide it in rather quickly.  You won’t hurt me, just keep the noise down.”

A slight metallic sound rang out for just a moment as the hilt of the sword was drawn away from the scabbard and passed underneath the table.  Few in the tavern even heard the noise, and even fewer in the tavern bothered to turn and try and find the origin of the sound.  Those who did were unsuccessful in looking for what they knew should be there.

Charis looked down toward the table as her hands fished for the sharp blade underneath and out of view.  She searched gingerly, knowing that Ischarus kept his blade meticulously sharpened.  One wrong move and she could cut herself badly.  After a few seconds of blind searching, her fingers found the flat of the blade.  She pressed one hand over the blade and then cradled the underside with her other hand.  Her lips moved, but the sounds coming from her mouth was nearly inaudible.  “Arack.”

Semeion had used the spell often enough that everyone at the table knew immediately what she had done.  With recognition in his eyes, Ischarus gripped the end of his scabbard and prepared for Charis to shove the blade quickly into its holder so that few if any of the patrons would see the magical light cast upon the blade.  Charis did not disappoint Ischarus.  With a firm thrust, she gripped the handle and drove the blade toward him until she could feel the blade lock closed in the scabbard.  “We’re ready.”

Rhema rose from the table with a bit of a nervous look on her face.  She spoke with a louder than normal voice so that eavesdropping upon the conversation would be made easier.  Her only fear was that it would grow too obvious that she was speaking loudly.  “I don’t really need to hear your bickering again!  We’ve already been down this route several times.  If you two can’t settle your differences in a normal fashion then I don’t want to be around when you chose another way!  I’m checking on the horses.”

Several patrons in the inn looked in her direction, but they quickly turned their heads back to their tables.  Rhema was pleased to know that she only got a passing glance.  As she walked over to where Wolf stood talking to the woman she was confident that she had pulled her part off.  As she approached the bar, she spoke softly.  “Wolf, I’d keep an eye on those two, if I were you.  Especially keep an eye on the female.  She’s more powerful than first appears.  I might even suggest eavesdropping a bit on their conversation in case it starts to get ugly.”

The barkeeper nodded slightly upon hearing Rhema’s words.  Both the barkeeper and the woman sitting at the bar turned their heads towards the threesome still sitting at the table.  What neither of them was aware of was Rhema’s subtle use of her mind control powers upon the barkeeper.  Rhema had emphasized her last sentence with the help of her mental control.  She had planted the desire to eavesdrop into Wolf’s mind.  The barkeeper turned his head back to Rhema and said, “Will do, lady.  I’ll keep an eye on them while you check on your horses.”

Rhema looked kindly into Wolf’s eyes.  “Thanks, Wolf.  I knew I could trust you.”  She smiled pleasantly and touched the back of his thick dwarven hand with her fingers.  Once he smiled at her, she removed them and strutted towards the door.

Semeion waited a few minutes before sliding his chair backwards across the floor.  The feet of the chair scraped across the polished wooden floors and the majority of the patrons inside the tavern turned their heads to look at him.  So far, things were going as planned.  In order to pull this off, he needed to continue to draw the attention of the patrons to the table and make it clear that he was leaving as Rhema had also done.  While nearly everyone was at least partially still paying attention to him, Semeion stood up and spoke.  “I’m going outside to find Rhema.  If you two can’t handle your differences, then don’t come out.  I’d rather leave than do business with the both of you if this is how you are going to act!”

Semeion rose violently, tipping his chair backwards.  He barely paused long enough to tip it upright, much less push it in.  In a matter of seconds he was outside the tavern and walking toward the horses.  Once he had moved far enough from the building to be away from all of the windows, Semeion crouched down to the ground and spoke the desired magical words as quietly as he possibly could.  “Para Doithican Fael-tru.”  Within the time span of a single second, Semeion vanished from sight completely.  

Rhema stood by the horses until she felt Semeion come up from behind her and touch her elbow.  That was her cue to head back inside the tavern.  When she returned, she would let Semeion inside without anyone realizing that he had come in.

Inside the tavern, Charis and Ischarus began to have a much more heated debate across the table.  Charis spoke first.  “See?  Because of your inept abilities, you have driven away my business!”

Ischarus called back, making it appear as though he was trying to keep his volume in check.  “My ineptness?  You sent me on some foolhardy mission that was impossible to complete!  Nobody in their right mind could accomplish that task.  But at least I was willing to try!”

Charis narrowed her eyes as her volume increased slightly.  “Try?  You call that trying?  You didn’t do anything except drink a bunch of ale for a few weeks on my tab!”

Ischarus leaned forward as if to make it appear that Charis had pushed a nerve.  “So you are calling me a drunk now?  Is that it?  You are going to dismiss my work as the work of some sot?  You really think you can accuse me of being a lush and get away with it?”

Wolf the Stout had seen enough.  He began to step around the end of the bar and head towards the table.  Rhema had been watching discretely from the outside and the bartender’s movement was her cue.  She opened the door, drawing the attention of all those inside to her.  Rhema stood in the doorway for a second, as if she were trying to get a look at what had happened since she had left.  It was clear that the whole inn had gone quiet as the patrons grew worried about the argument raging between Charis and Ischarus.  Things typically got ugly when one person accused another about being a drunk.

In truth, Rhema was holding the door open to allow Semeion to cross in front of her.  Once the invisible mage was inside, he tapped her on the elbow so that Rhema would know that it was safe to close the door.  His last responsibility was to find a place where he could sit that offered a good view of the table but wouldn’t run the risk of anyone accidentally striking his invisible form.  He spotted an unused table across the room and quickly slid into a seated position on top of the table.  He knew that he wouldn’t leave an indentation upon the table like he would upon the seat of a chair.  Once he was on top of the table he was in position.

Charis paused in her speech and turned her head to Rhema.  There was silence in the inn for several seconds until Rhema closed the door.  Once the door was closed, Charis knew that she could begin the tirade once more.  The closing of the door signaled that everything was in place.  “Do not doubt who I am, Ischarus.  There is little limit to my power.  Most people know me as Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the cue.  He extended his finger toward Charis and softly spoke the magical incantation.  “Parzuhs Egro.”  Instantly Charis’ body altered its shape to look nearly identical to that of the priestess of Yrraxea.  Her clothes remained the same, but her face, height, and even hair color had become that of Darkbringer.  As her body shifted in form, most of the people in the tavern gasped in awe.  

As Semeion quickly looked around the room, he could see that the alteration had the desired effect.  The people in the tavern were completely drawn into what was happening at the table.   The magical effects were drawing them in so well that they weren’t able to realize that this was a huge dramatic performance.

Once Charis could feel that she had shifted form, her demands became even more violent.  “Do you not see the power that I can wield?  This is but a simple taste of what I can do to anyone that disobeys me!”  Charis’ fist slammed down upon the top of the table as she concluded her sentence.

Semeion was prepared with the next magical trick and waiting for the physical cue.  The magical words slowly released from his lips.  “Par Ah-sahn.”  In the same moment that Charis’ fist slammed against the table, Semeion used the magic within his latest spell to lift up the saltshakers sitting in the middle of the surrounding tables.  

The people in the tavern gasped noticeably when the salt shakers seemed to jump on the surrounding tables due to the force of Charis’ fist.  Of course, they had no idea that it was actually the invisible spell caster who was working out the timing.  From their perspective, Charis was demonstrating her power quite effectively.  However, Semeion knew that the most convincing portions of her argument were yet to come.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The foursome sat within the inn and talked for over an hour. They watched a few of the patrons come and go and quickly realized that there were a number of the clientele who were likely here for the long haul. Besides the woman sitting at the counter, the rest of the patrons who looked as though they weren’t going anywhere looked to be of an age of retirement. They probably had long given up the sword and shield and dropped out of Lord Ironblood’s army. Perhaps they had already sold their stores. It was quite possible that some of the patrons who were present had already handed over the control of the family land to their eldest son or daughter and thus could afford to work the land only sparingly.

Semeion had spent a good deal of the time perusing through his smaller spell book. He had brought his large grimoire to Ausaphaborishan’s valley so that he could continue his studies while the final preparations for the wedding were taking place. When he had heard that the villa had been destroyed, Semeion decided that the safest place for his grimoire was in the valley until the remaining Drakontai who had come from the villa returned. They would bring the grimoire with them. Until then, Semeion only had his traveling spell book to study. While considerably smaller, it had all the spells that he needed for this particular day.

Semeion leaned forward and drew the right side of his lips back as he looked around the room and thought. The effect that this motion had on his face was the formation of a significant dimple in the middle of his right cheek. He leaned forward in his chair so that the majority of his torso was over the table and spoke softly. “I don’t know, guys. This doesn’t have the right feel. The majority of the people who appear to be more than just occasionally patrons look rather old. I just imagined Bloodseeker to be a younger man than the majority of the people spending their afternoon here.”

Charis leaned slightly towards Semeion and put her arm around her husband’s shoulders. “Oh, come on, Semeion. Whether or not this is exactly the right place doesn’t particularly matter. We could use a little practice with our plan, so if it doesn’t happen to be the right place then that’s fine, too. You can’t honestly think that the first place we choose to walk into is going to have exactly what we need, can you?”

Rhema and Ischarus nodded in agreement to Charis’ words. Rhema leaned back in her chair and winked to Semeion. “Besides, you and I have the easiest roles to play. It is Charis and Ischarus who truly have anything at stake in the plan. If we play our part right, nobody will even know that we were involved.”

Ischarus looked directly into Semeion’s eyes and then grinned broadly. “Since it is typically a wise thing to do, anyway, I agree with the women. Now, go and make yourself scarce.”

Charis interrupted Semeion before he could start into motion. “Ischarus, slip me the handle of your sword under the table as quietly as you can. I need to touch the blade, but I don’t want the scabbard. As soon as I’ve touched the blade, it needs to go back into your scabbard as quickly as possible.”

Ischarus wrinkled his eyebrows in slight confusion, but he knew enough to trust his fellow Drakontos companion. “Very well. I’ll hold onto the scabbard while you draw out the blade. The sword is longer than the table is wide, so it won’t come out from the scabbard. When you are done, slide it in rather quickly. You won’t hurt me, just keep the noise down.”

A slight metallic sound rang out for just a moment as the hilt of the sword was drawn away from the scabbard and passed underneath the table. Few in the tavern even heard the noise, and even fewer in the tavern bothered to turn and try and find the origin of the sound. Those who did were unsuccessful in looking for what they knew should be there.

Charis looked down toward the table as her hands fished for the sharp blade underneath and out of view. She searched gingerly, knowing that Ischarus kept his blade meticulously sharpened. One wrong move and she could cut herself badly. After a few seconds of blind searching, her fingers found the flat of the blade. She pressed one hand over the blade and then cradled the underside with her other hand. Her lips moved, but the sounds coming from her mouth was nearly inaudible. “Arack.”

Semeion had used the spell often enough that everyone at the table knew immediately what she had done. With recognition in his eyes, Ischarus gripped the end of his scabbard and prepared for Charis to shove the blade quickly into its holder so that few if any of the patrons would see the magical light cast upon the blade. Charis did not disappoint Ischarus. With a firm thrust, she gripped the handle and drove the blade toward him until she could feel the blade lock closed in the scabbard. “We’re ready.”

Rhema rose from the table with a bit of a nervous look on her face. She spoke with a louder than normal voice so that eavesdropping upon the conversation would be made easier. Her only fear was that it would grow too obvious that she was speaking loudly. “I don’t really need to hear your bickering again! We’ve already been down this route several times. If you two can’t settle your differences in a normal fashion then I don’t want to be around when you chose another way! I’m checking on the horses.”

Several patrons in the inn looked in her direction, but they quickly turned their heads back to their tables. Rhema was pleased to know that she only got a passing glance. As she walked over to where Wolf stood talking to the woman she was confident that she had pulled her part off. As she approached the bar, she spoke softly. “Wolf, I’d keep an eye on those two, if I were you. Especially keep an eye on the female. She’s more powerful than first appears. I might even suggest eavesdropping a bit on their conversation in case it starts to get ugly.”

The barkeeper nodded slightly upon hearing Rhema’s words. Both the barkeeper and the woman sitting at the bar turned their heads towards the threesome still sitting at the table. What neither of them was aware of was Rhema’s subtle use of her mind control powers upon the barkeeper. Rhema had emphasized her last sentence with the help of her mental control. She had planted the desire to eavesdrop into Wolf’s mind. The barkeeper turned his head back to Rhema and said, “Will do, lady. I’ll keep an eye on them while you check on your horses.”

Rhema looked kindly into Wolf’s eyes. “Thanks, Wolf. I knew I could trust you.” She smiled pleasantly and touched the back of his thick dwarven hand with her fingers. Once he smiled at her, she removed them and strutted towards the door.

Semeion waited a few minutes before sliding his chair backwards across the floor. The feet of the chair scraped across the polished wooden floors and the majority of the patrons inside the tavern turned their heads to look at him. So far, things were going as planned. In order to pull this off, he needed to continue to draw the attention of the patrons to the table and make it clear that he was leaving as Rhema had also done. While nearly everyone was at least partially still paying attention to him, Semeion stood up and spoke. “I’m going outside to find Rhema. If you two can’t handle your differences, then don’t come out. I’d rather leave than do business with the both of you if this is how you are going to act!”

Semeion rose violently, tipping his chair backwards. He barely paused long enough to tip it upright, much less push it in. In a matter of seconds he was outside the tavern and walking toward the horses. Once he had moved far enough from the building to be away from all of the windows, Semeion crouched down to the ground and spoke the desired magical words as quietly as he possibly could. “Para Doithican Fael-tru.” Within the time span of a single second, Semeion vanished from sight completely. 

Rhema stood by the horses until she felt Semeion come up from behind her and touch her elbow. That was her cue to head back inside the tavern. When she returned, she would let Semeion inside without anyone realizing that he had come in.

Inside the tavern, Charis and Ischarus began to have a much more heated debate across the table. Charis spoke first. “See? Because of your inept abilities, you have driven away my business!”

Ischarus called back, making it appear as though he was trying to keep his volume in check. “My ineptness? You sent me on some foolhardy mission that was impossible to complete! Nobody in their right mind could accomplish that task. But at least I was willing to try!”

Charis narrowed her eyes as her volume increased slightly. “Try? You call that trying? You didn’t do anything except drink a bunch of ale for a few weeks on my tab!”

Ischarus leaned forward as if to make it appear that Charis had pushed a nerve. “So you are calling me a drunk now? Is that it? You are going to dismiss my work as the work of some sot? You really think you can accuse me of being a lush and get away with it?”

Wolf the Stout had seen enough. He began to step around the end of the bar and head towards the table. Rhema had been watching discretely from the outside and the bartender’s movement was her cue. She opened the door, drawing the attention of all those inside to her. Rhema stood in the doorway for a second, as if she were trying to get a look at what had happened since she had left. It was clear that the whole inn had gone quiet as the patrons grew worried about the argument raging between Charis and Ischarus. Things typically got ugly when one person accused another about being a drunk.

In truth, Rhema was holding the door open to allow Semeion to cross in front of her. Once the invisible mage was inside, he tapped her on the elbow so that Rhema would know that it was safe to close the door. His last responsibility was to find a place where he could sit that offered a good view of the table but wouldn’t run the risk of anyone accidentally striking his invisible form. He spotted an unused table across the room and quickly slid into a seated position on top of the table. He knew that he wouldn’t leave an indentation upon the table like he would upon the seat of a chair. Once he was on top of the table he was in position.

Charis paused in her speech and turned her head to Rhema. There was silence in the inn for several seconds until Rhema closed the door. Once the door was closed, Charis knew that she could begin the tirade once more. The closing of the door signaled that everything was in place. “Do not doubt who I am, Ischarus. There is little limit to my power. Most people know me as Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the cue. He extended his finger toward Charis and softly spoke the magical incantation. “Parzuhs Egro.” Instantly Charis’ body altered its shape to look nearly identical to that of the priestess of Yrraxea. Her clothes remained the same, but her face, height, and even hair color had become that of Darkbringer. As her body shifted in form, most of the people in the tavern gasped in awe. 

As Semeion quickly looked around the room, he could see that the alteration had the desired effect. The people in the tavern were completely drawn into what was happening at the table. The magical effects were drawing them in so well that they weren’t able to realize that this was a huge dramatic performance.

Once Charis could feel that she had shifted form, her demands became even more violent. “Do you not see the power that I can wield? This is but a simple taste of what I can do to anyone that disobeys me!” Charis’ fist slammed down upon the top of the table as she concluded her sentence.

Semeion was prepared with the next magical trick and waiting for the physical cue. The magical words slowly released from his lips. “Par Ah-sahn.” In the same moment that Charis’ fist slammed against the table, Semeion used the magic within his latest spell to lift up the saltshakers sitting in the middle of the surrounding tables. 

The people in the tavern gasped noticeably when the salt shakers seemed to jump on the surrounding tables due to the force of Charis’ fist. Of course, they had no idea that it was actually the invisible spell caster who was working out the timing. From their perspective, Charis was demonstrating her power quite effectively. However, Semeion knew that the most convincing portions of her argument were yet to come.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 13, 2007)

Ischarus tried to disguise his voice under a frail level of fear.  “Please, Darkbringer.  Do not injure me.  I did the best that I could.  I am no lush, but I did focus my search in the taverns of this city.  I thought that would be the best place for me to be able to find the one that you are looking for!”  His cry was difficult to pull off, because Ischarus was unaccustomed to feeling fear that extensively.

Rhema knew full well that the act was working, however.  With Charis turned into the Darkbringer, she would appear more menacing by appearing to be able to disguise her appearance.  She also knew that with Semeion’s and her own powers naturally feeding off of Charis’ innate charisma, she would give a much more powerful presentation.  Her powers would seem greater than they actually were and this would make her performance memorable.  Ischarus’ apparent crumbling before her power would only add credence to the unbelievable.

Charis’ tone continued to increase.  “Do you now see the power that you have so casually dismissed in your feeble attempts to hop from bar to bar in search of the one I seek?  You thought that my task would be easily dismissed and that you would be allowed to have pleasant afternoons drinking ale while reporting nothing back to me!  But I have caught on to your schemes and I will be taken advantage of no longer!”

Rhema knew that Charis was building her presentation to a head now.  She seemed to grow quite angry and this would allow Rhema to begin to demonstrate her own range of powers.  Rhema cautiously stayed by the front door as she scanned the room.  The patrons were now focused on Charis, but they would recognize her as an associate belonging to that table.  Rhema intentionally hung back from the door to make it appear as though she was afraid to step into the path of Charis’ tirade.  In truth, Rhema was focusing on the nearby oil lamps and torches.

As Rhema focused, the flames from the lamp on the surrounding tables began to grow almost unnaturally large.  They didn’t appear to be consuming more oil as they grew in intensity.  However, there was no disputing that the flames were increasing in size.  What should have been a normal one inch flame now leapt three to four inches off of the end of the wick.

Charis smiled as she saw the increase in flame.  Of course, the patrons within the tavern actually saw Darkbringer smile on account of Semeion’s magical transformation.  The smile seemed to be one of pure evil pleasure.  Ischarus slouched within his seat as if to draw back from the unnatural display of pyrotechnics.  Charis stood tall as the flames increased and held her hands out from her side.  She cupped her hands as if her fingers were to form a basin.  

Ischarus parted his mouth as if to speak, but Charis did not give him the opportunity.  “Do you know why they call me Darkbringer?  They call me Darkbringer because I have the ability to use light to my advantage.  I’ll give you a simple demonstration.”

Rhema focused in on the enlarged flame nearest to Charis’ position.  She used her power over the flame to set the flame into motion.  The flame left the wick and the oil behind it, but it continued to burn in midair as it crossed over the small space between itself and Charis’ hand.  Rhema positioned the flame so that it appeared to be nestled within the cup that Charis’ palm and fingers had formed.

Charis laughed in a slow manner.  The laugh demonstrated that she was enjoying the act.  “See this flame here?  This flame can normally provide light and give off a slight amount of heat.  In fact, many people would eventually be burned if they drew this close to the flame for this long.  However, this flame gives me power.  I can draw off the presence of this very flame and grow stronger.  By absorbing its essence, I will cast you in darkness and grow even stronger.”

Rhema slowly moved the flame back to the wick from which it had been taken.  Once it had been successfully returned to the oil, Charis lifted her arms and hands out and above her shoulders and spoke in a commanding tone.  “Now watch, as you see true power!”

Ischarus slowly pushed her chair back from the table as if in fear.  He didn’t rise from his seated position, however.  He didn’t want to yet instigate conflict.  Rather, he simply wanted to make it appear that he was indeed quite nervous.  His eyes opened wide as Charis lifted her arms as if to worship the flame around her.

Rhema took her cue from Ischarus.  Using her power to control the magical flame she returned the large flames to their normal size.  Once they had been reduced back to a believable size, Rhema focused even harder to push the flames smaller.  They appeared to dwindle as Charis focused her attention.

Semeion waited for Charis to play out the act.  As the flames decreased in size, Charis began to emit a low humming sound as though she were driving herself into a deep state of meditation.  As she hummed, she slowly closed her eyes as if to enter into a trance.

With the closing of Charis’ eyes, Ischarus knew that it would be most believable to strike now.  Ischarus drew his sword out of his scabbard and slowly began to rise quietly.  With Ischarus’ sword out of the scabbard, the inn was bathed in the magical light that Charis had placed upon it earlier.

Charis smiled as her spell creating light upon the sword told her that Ischarus was moving.  She struck out her hand as if to force Ischarus back into the chair.  The table was wide enough that Ischarus was no danger of being hit.  However, as Ischarus saw Charis strike towards him he acted as though he was pushed back into the chair and restrained their by some hidden force.  In apparent surprise, Ischarus spoke.  “But, how?”

Charis continued to smile, but did not interrupt her humming.  She did not want to grant the patrons of the tavern the answer which would prematurely destroy the tension she had been working hard to build.  Ischarus continued to feign restraint for several more seconds until the flames of the nearby candles had been almost completely extinguished.

Only then did Charis speak slowly and deliberately.  “I sensed your movement through the magical light of your sword.  I have restrained you according to the power that I have absorbed by the flames.  Now see what else the flames have given to me!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Rhema focused hard on the flames and caused them all to extinguish simultaneously.  The tavern suddenly had a circle of darkness around where Charis stood.  The light from the outermost tables and the lamps hung along the wall did continue to cast some light toward Charis, but it was still noticeably darker around Charis and Ischarus.  Only the light from Ischarus’ sword cast illumination near Charis with any authority.

Once the flames were extinguished, Charis closed her eyes completely and appeared to concentrate.  Semeion smiled, enjoying the performance from his invisible location.  He spoke yet another magical command once the flames were eliminated.  “Tok-skrie Ah-su “

Charis began to grow in size.  Her arms, legs, head and torso doubled.  She grew so large as to have her head rub against the rafters supporting the rooftop above.  The weapons that hung from her belt continued to grow as well and they were no longer hidden underneath the folds of her traveling cloak.  She laughed as each dimension of her body size quite literally doubled.  “Would you care to challenge me now, puny man?  Do you now think yourself so great that you think you can avoid my power?  Do you think you can defeat someone who draws power from the very essence of flame?”

Ischarus sat speechless.  In fact, the whole tavern was speechless.  Wolf stood behind his bar enraptured by the proceedings.  There was no doubt that Rhema’s control over him had helped to draw him in as well as to keep him from interfering.  Now, they could be sure that everyone in the inn would not forget this performance.  They would not forget the Darkbringer.

Charis also knew that it was time to unveil the purpose of their performance.  She smiled with dark intent.  “If you value your life and if you value this pitiful little town, you will find me the one that I seek before it is too late.  Do you understand me?  If you take much more time, it will be too late.”

Ischarus nodded slowly.  His eyes glanced around the portion of the tavern than he could safely examine without turning his head.  Most of the patrons were nodding with him.  They were caught, and Charis had given the performance of her life.  Perhaps most importantly, it appeared as though she enjoyed it, too.

Charis glanced towards Ischarus’ weapon.  She smiled as she saw how limply the sword hung in his hand.  His elbow appeared to be pinned to the arm of his wooden chair and the hilt of the sword bent his wrist awkwardly.  Had he not been so skilled with the art of sword fighting his wrist would have been broken under the strain of supporting the sword at that angle.  Even with his training, Charis knew that the position still could not have been pleasant.

Charis’ eyes focused upon the sword as she looked down upon the table from her tall stature.  Semeion’s spell was ticking down in effectiveness and timing would be everything.  She knew it was time for the dramatic conclusion.  “If you value your arm, drop your sword before your wrist breaks.”  A thud could be heard as Ischarus capitulated.  The tip of the sword struck the wooden floor first and was followed by the hilt.

Charis grinned as she focused on the blade.  “Alaxai Pargoth.”  The words were utter nonsense and she knew it.  She knew that Semeion would recognize the words as nonsense as well.  But so long as there weren’t any promising mages in the audience she was safe.

As she spoke the words of nonsense, she dismissed her own effect of the light spell upon Ischarus’ weapon.  The blade faded as the light bled away into darkness.  From the outsider’s perspective, it looked as though she had absorbed the magic of the blade just as she had done against the flame of the oil lamp.  The effect was to make her appear incredibly powerful.

Once the blade appeared to be a normal iron in color she spoke once more.  “You know who it is that I seek.  You will find Bloodseeker.  You will find Bloodseeker and tell him to meet me in Huetown.  Bloodseeker will know the place.”

Ischarus allowed his jaw to drop open as if in awe of her power.  Mindlessly he allowed his head to bob up and down in a slow nod.  After a dozen or more seconds, his eyes finally blinked.  “Yes, ma’am.  Bloodseeker.  Huetown.”

Charis narrowed her eyes in Ischarus’ direction.  She knew that Semeion’s spell that made her larger than normal was due to wear off at any moment.  “Do not fail me again.  If we ever have to meet again I will drain more than the magic of your sword.  You will find out another reason they call me the Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the verbal cue.  There could be no doubt.  The message had been delivered.  Her false power had been demonstrated in a way that made it unforgettable.  From his invisible position upon the table he allowed the magical command to slip passed his lips.  “Cathra soon-Utal.”

A thick vapor rose up from the ground and seeped through the floorboards of the tavern.  Within seconds the midst had made it impossible to see within the entire inn.  Visibility had effectively been reduced to zero.  Semeion had not given thought to the light of the oil lamps upon the wall, but they only added to the spooky vapor.  The light from the lamps was refracted so much that it looked as though will o’ wisps floating through the air.

Semeion quickly dismissed his control over the spell that he had used to enlarge Charis as Darkbringer.  Immediately she shrank back to her original size.  Seconds later he heard the door to the inn creak open and he left the table and ran to the door.  He saw his disguised wife holding the door open for him.  He touched her elbow as he passed by and released the magical effect that had changed Charis’ appearance to match the Darkbringer.

Once Charis was sure that Semeion had passed her by, she closed the door and approached the road.  She watched as Semeion allowed himself to reappear.  He approached her and nodded to the horses.  Although it felt completely unnatural, it was important that they left Fingerdale alone.  They didn’t dare risk meeting up with Ischarus and Rhema until they were back in Huetown.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus tried to disguise his voice under a frail level of fear. “Please, Darkbringer. Do not injure me. I did the best that I could. I am no lush, but I did focus my search in the taverns of this city. I thought that would be the best place for me to be able to find the one that you are looking for!” His cry was difficult to pull off, because Ischarus was unaccustomed to feeling fear that extensively.

Rhema knew full well that the act was working, however. With Charis turned into the Darkbringer, she would appear more menacing by appearing to be able to disguise her appearance. She also knew that with Semeion’s and her own powers naturally feeding off of Charis’ innate charisma, she would give a much more powerful presentation. Her powers would seem greater than they actually were and this would make her performance memorable. Ischarus’ apparent crumbling before her power would only add credence to the unbelievable.

Charis’ tone continued to increase. “Do you now see the power that you have so casually dismissed in your feeble attempts to hop from bar to bar in search of the one I seek? You thought that my task would be easily dismissed and that you would be allowed to have pleasant afternoons drinking ale while reporting nothing back to me! But I have caught on to your schemes and I will be taken advantage of no longer!”

Rhema knew that Charis was building her presentation to a head now. She seemed to grow quite angry and this would allow Rhema to begin to demonstrate her own range of powers. Rhema cautiously stayed by the front door as she scanned the room. The patrons were now focused on Charis, but they would recognize her as an associate belonging to that table. Rhema intentionally hung back from the door to make it appear as though she was afraid to step into the path of Charis’ tirade. In truth, Rhema was focusing on the nearby oil lamps and torches.

As Rhema focused, the flames from the lamp on the surrounding tables began to grow almost unnaturally large. They didn’t appear to be consuming more oil as they grew in intensity. However, there was no disputing that the flames were increasing in size. What should have been a normal one inch flame now leapt three to four inches off of the end of the wick.

Charis smiled as she saw the increase in flame. Of course, the patrons within the tavern actually saw Darkbringer smile on account of Semeion’s magical transformation. The smile seemed to be one of pure evil pleasure. Ischarus slouched within his seat as if to draw back from the unnatural display of pyrotechnics. Charis stood tall as the flames increased and held her hands out from her side. She cupped her hands as if her fingers were to form a basin. 

Ischarus parted his mouth as if to speak, but Charis did not give him the opportunity. “Do you know why they call me Darkbringer? They call me Darkbringer because I have the ability to use light to my advantage. I’ll give you a simple demonstration.”

Rhema focused in on the enlarged flame nearest to Charis’ position. She used her power over the flame to set the flame into motion. The flame left the wick and the oil behind it, but it continued to burn in midair as it crossed over the small space between itself and Charis’ hand. Rhema positioned the flame so that it appeared to be nestled within the cup that Charis’ palm and fingers had formed.

Charis laughed in a slow manner. The laugh demonstrated that she was enjoying the act. “See this flame here? This flame can normally provide light and give off a slight amount of heat. In fact, many people would eventually be burned if they drew this close to the flame for this long. However, this flame gives me power. I can draw off the presence of this very flame and grow stronger. By absorbing its essence, I will cast you in darkness and grow even stronger.”

Rhema slowly moved the flame back to the wick from which it had been taken. Once it had been successfully returned to the oil, Charis lifted her arms and hands out and above her shoulders and spoke in a commanding tone. “Now watch, as you see true power!”

Ischarus slowly pushed her chair back from the table as if in fear. He didn’t rise from his seated position, however. He didn’t want to yet instigate conflict. Rather, he simply wanted to make it appear that he was indeed quite nervous. His eyes opened wide as Charis lifted her arms as if to worship the flame around her.

Rhema took her cue from Ischarus. Using her power to control the magical flame she returned the large flames to their normal size. Once they had been reduced back to a believable size, Rhema focused even harder to push the flames smaller. They appeared to dwindle as Charis focused her attention.

Semeion waited for Charis to play out the act. As the flames decreased in size, Charis began to emit a low humming sound as though she were driving herself into a deep state of meditation. As she hummed, she slowly closed her eyes as if to enter into a trance.

With the closing of Charis’ eyes, Ischarus knew that it would be most believable to strike now. Ischarus drew his sword out of his scabbard and slowly began to rise quietly. With Ischarus’ sword out of the scabbard, the inn was bathed in the magical light that Charis had placed upon it earlier.

Charis smiled as her spell creating light upon the sword told her that Ischarus was moving. She struck out her hand as if to force Ischarus back into the chair. The table was wide enough that Ischarus was no danger of being hit. However, as Ischarus saw Charis strike towards him he acted as though he was pushed back into the chair and restrained their by some hidden force. In apparent surprise, Ischarus spoke. “But, how?”

Charis continued to smile, but did not interrupt her humming. She did not want to grant the patrons of the tavern the answer which would prematurely destroy the tension she had been working hard to build. Ischarus continued to feign restraint for several more seconds until the flames of the nearby candles had been almost completely extinguished.

Only then did Charis speak slowly and deliberately. “I sensed your movement through the magical light of your sword. I have restrained you according to the power that I have absorbed by the flames. Now see what else the flames have given to me!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Rhema focused hard on the flames and caused them all to extinguish simultaneously. The tavern suddenly had a circle of darkness around where Charis stood. The light from the outermost tables and the lamps hung along the wall did continue to cast some light toward Charis, but it was still noticeably darker around Charis and Ischarus. Only the light from Ischarus’ sword cast illumination near Charis with any authority.

Once the flames were extinguished, Charis closed her eyes completely and appeared to concentrate. Semeion smiled, enjoying the performance from his invisible location. He spoke yet another magical command once the flames were eliminated. “Tok-skrie Ah-su “

Charis began to grow in size. Her arms, legs, head and torso doubled. She grew so large as to have her head rub against the rafters supporting the rooftop above. The weapons that hung from her belt continued to grow as well and they were no longer hidden underneath the folds of her traveling cloak. She laughed as each dimension of her body size quite literally doubled. “Would you care to challenge me now, puny man? Do you now think yourself so great that you think you can avoid my power? Do you think you can defeat someone who draws power from the very essence of flame?”

Ischarus sat speechless. In fact, the whole tavern was speechless. Wolf stood behind his bar enraptured by the proceedings. There was no doubt that Rhema’s control over him had helped to draw him in as well as to keep him from interfering. Now, they could be sure that everyone in the inn would not forget this performance. They would not forget the Darkbringer.

Charis also knew that it was time to unveil the purpose of their performance. She smiled with dark intent. “If you value your life and if you value this pitiful little town, you will find me the one that I seek before it is too late. Do you understand me? If you take much more time, it will be too late.”

Ischarus nodded slowly. His eyes glanced around the portion of the tavern than he could safely examine without turning his head. Most of the patrons were nodding with him. They were caught, and Charis had given the performance of her life. Perhaps most importantly, it appeared as though she enjoyed it, too.

Charis glanced towards Ischarus’ weapon. She smiled as she saw how limply the sword hung in his hand. His elbow appeared to be pinned to the arm of his wooden chair and the hilt of the sword bent his wrist awkwardly. Had he not been so skilled with the art of sword fighting his wrist would have been broken under the strain of supporting the sword at that angle. Even with his training, Charis knew that the position still could not have been pleasant.

Charis’ eyes focused upon the sword as she looked down upon the table from her tall stature. Semeion’s spell was ticking down in effectiveness and timing would be everything. She knew it was time for the dramatic conclusion. “If you value your arm, drop your sword before your wrist breaks.” A thud could be heard as Ischarus capitulated. The tip of the sword struck the wooden floor first and was followed by the hilt.

Charis grinned as she focused on the blade. “Alaxai Pargoth.” The words were utter nonsense and she knew it. She knew that Semeion would recognize the words as nonsense as well. But so long as there weren’t any promising mages in the audience she was safe.

As she spoke the words of nonsense, she dismissed her own effect of the light spell upon Ischarus’ weapon. The blade faded as the light bled away into darkness. From the outsider’s perspective, it looked as though she had absorbed the magic of the blade just as she had done against the flame of the oil lamp. The effect was to make her appear incredibly powerful.

Once the blade appeared to be a normal iron in color she spoke once more. “You know who it is that I seek. You will find Bloodseeker. You will find Bloodseeker and tell him to meet me in Huetown. Bloodseeker will know the place.”

Ischarus allowed his jaw to drop open as if in awe of her power. Mindlessly he allowed his head to bob up and down in a slow nod. After a dozen or more seconds, his eyes finally blinked. “Yes, ma’am. Bloodseeker. Huetown.”

Charis narrowed her eyes in Ischarus’ direction. She knew that Semeion’s spell that made her larger than normal was due to wear off at any moment. “Do not fail me again. If we ever have to meet again I will drain more than the magic of your sword. You will find out another reason they call me the Darkbringer.”

Semeion knew the verbal cue. There could be no doubt. The message had been delivered. Her false power had been demonstrated in a way that made it unforgettable. From his invisible position upon the table he allowed the magical command to slip passed his lips. “Cathra soon-Utal.”

A thick vapor rose up from the ground and seeped through the floorboards of the tavern. Within seconds the midst had made it impossible to see within the entire inn. Visibility had effectively been reduced to zero. Semeion had not given thought to the light of the oil lamps upon the wall, but they only added to the spooky vapor. The light from the lamps was refracted so much that it looked as though will o’ wisps floating through the air.

Semeion quickly dismissed his control over the spell that he had used to enlarge Charis as Darkbringer. Immediately she shrank back to her original size. Seconds later he heard the door to the inn creak open and he left the table and ran to the door. He saw his disguised wife holding the door open for him. He touched her elbow as he passed by and released the magical effect that had changed Charis’ appearance to match the Darkbringer.

Once Charis was sure that Semeion had passed her by, she closed the door and approached the road. She watched as Semeion allowed himself to reappear. He approached her and nodded to the horses. Although it felt completely unnatural, it was important that they left Fingerdale alone. They didn’t dare risk meeting up with Ischarus and Rhema until they were back in Huetown. [/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 16, 2007)

Four long days passed from the time that the foursome had given their dramatic performance in the _Shrouded Tenor._  They had managed to meet up back at the burned villa without difficulty along the way.  During the day, Rhema’s father had made significant progress in planning for his new home.  He had even gone so far as to wade through the nearby forest and mark trees that would likely be good for producing lumber for the construction.

The party had decided to stay away from Fingerdale for a few days and see if their performance brought about any results.  It didn’t make sense to repeat the performance in other areas within Fingerdale because there would be the risk that the residents of Fingerdale would grow suspicious.  If they gave the performance too often it would become obvious that it was simply just a performance.

Through the use of the horses, the stones and the burned out timbers were easily cleared.  The site for the new villa was well on the way to being prepared for the time when the servants returned from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley.  Iasho had received word that the servants had left from Barghost and were due to return in no more than two week’s time.  If they worked hard, then they could have the new site prepared in addition to having the fields sown with seed once more.  If the seeds could be sown, the coming servants could focus on helping to build the villa while the seeds germinated in the ground.

On the fourth day since the performance, Iasho and the foursome were in the fields planting seed when a sudden movement caught the eyes of Iasho and Charis.  Both Iasho and Charis stood up and focused on the movement.  Rhea, Ischarus, and Semeion saw the curiosity of their friends and they turned.

Semeion spoke quickly to his wife.  “Charis?  What is it?”

Charis didn’t speak in reply, but she did nod in the direction that she had seen movement.  As she nodded, everyone saw a tall figure dressed in leather armor and a dark gray cloak emerge from the woods.  As soon as the figure realized that he had been spotted, he stopped and examined the situation.

The figure wore a confused look upon his face.  It appeared as though he had not been expecting to find five people standing around the fields.  As the party studied what little they could see of his face from the distance, they noticed that his face appeared deeply scarred.  His hair was clipped short, and it revealed several scars left over from strikes taken to the head.

Ischarus stepped forward and spoke.  “Bloodseeker?”  His voice rang through forest as he called across the field.

The figure stepped back into edge of the forest and began to run away.  Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho immediately began to pursue the man, but the soft ground of the burned field made it difficult to follow with any speed.  Semeion and Charis could tell immediately that they didn’t have much chance to catch the figure on foot if they had to run across the field first.

Semeion called out to the rest of the party.  “Keep pursuing him, he might be the one we were looking for.  Charis and I will go get our horses and circle around the edge of the forest.”

Ischarus nodded as he ran.  Rhema and Iasho struggled to keep up with the speed that his powerful legs were able to generate in the loose soil.  However, even with Ischarus’ strong legs the unknown man was easily escaping through the forest.

Within seconds Charis and Semeion were mounted atop their horses and riding along the edge of the field towards the forest.  They were able to keep to the untilled ground and thus ride the horses hard.  Charis yelled to Semeion as he followed closely behind. “I’ll circle left, you circle right.  We’ll eventually both get to the road that leads back to Fingerdale.  If we can get there by going around the trees before he can get to the road by going through them, we can contain him!”

Charis could tell that Semeion had heard her directions by the sound of the horse hooves behind her.  He hadn’t replied, but he did guide Thana to the right.  The thundering of Thana’s hooves upon the ground was growing further away.  Charis dug her heels into Abijou’s side and spurred him to the forest edge.

She reached the spot in the forest where the man had first appeared.  She was slightly behind Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho.  As she crossed the edge of the forest behind them she called through the trees.  “Drive him through the trees toward the road.  Semeion and I will be on the other side waiting!”

Iasho stopped and turned around.  He yelled to his daughter as he slowed.  “Keep pressing forward.  I’ll go back and protect the other three horses!”

Ischarus was already pushing forward with effort, and he didn’t hear his father-in-law call the directions.  Rhema did hear him, and she paused long enough to turn around.  “Be careful, father!  If he circles back to retrieve our horses, you’ll be alone!”

Iasho nodded and turned back to the location of the villa.  He began to walk, knowing that it was not necessary for him to hurry.  Rhema turned back to find Ischarus.  He was trying to follow the man’s trail as quickly as possible.  If she flanked his position she would be better able to prevent the man from doubling back upon her father.

The chase through the forest lasted for more than a mile before reaching the road to Fingerdale.  The horses riding around the edge of the forest traveled far more than a mile in their route.  In spite of the greater distance, both of the horses were able to make it to the other side before Ischarus and Rhema could make it through.

The road had been cut through the forest almost a century earlier in an attempt to enable quicker trade routes.  Semeion circumvented the forest on the edge closest to Fingerdale.  As he rounded the forest and brought Thana onto the rode, he saw a small cart coming in his direction.  The cart was driven by an elderly woman and pulled by a simple mule.  The woman was dressed in a simple tattered cloak and was only armed by an old prodding stick.

When the woman spotted Semeion coming towards her from the edge of the forest, she called out in a raised voice.  “Stay back, bandit!  I have leprosy!  You may wish to rob me, but if you come close enough to touch me you will steal more than you bargained for!”

Semeion smiled and muttered to himself in a soft enough tone that there was no possible way that the woman could have heard him.  “Leprosy, huh?  Yeah, I bet that it’s leprosy.  More than likely it’s a rouse to keep me from searching the cart.  I smell something foul.”

Semeion smiled politely and directed Thana to approach from the front.  “I’m actually tracking criminal movement through these woods, ma’am.  I’ll respect your leprosy, but I will ask you to stop your mule and leave your cart for inspection.”

The woman smiled politely.  “If you insist.”  The woman pulled back on the mule’s reigns to get it to stop.  “But just be careful.  Leprosy can spread by touching any part of my skin whether it is attached to me or not.”

Semeion dismounted and left Thana to wander about ten feet from the cart.  He drew back his cloak and revealed his blade.  “If you don’t mind, I can use steel to search for criminal signs.”

The woman backed up upon hearing Semeion’s assertion.  She abandoned her cart and allowed Semeion to approach and search it.  Despite a thorough search, Semeion only found a few fruits and vegetables.  There was no place for anyone to hide within the cart.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the short woman.  “I’m sorry for holding you up, ma’am.  You’ve been more than patient and cooperative.  Are you heading to Fingerdale?”

The woman approached the cart as Semeion backed away to return to Thana’s saddle.  She smiled as she sat upon the driver’s bench.  “Indeed I am.”

Semeion nodded to the woman as he swung himself up into the saddle.  “Have a safe travel, then.  Hopefully your mule can get you there before the sun goes down.”

The woman smiled and moved further down the road.  Semeion traveled in the opposite direction towards where he was sure the man would have to emerge from the forest.  Several minutes later he came upon Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis standing on the side of the road.  Charis was still mounted.

Rhema waved Semeion over when she spotted him coming.  “No luck?”

Semeion shook his head.  “No.  I didn’t see anyone except an old woman driving a mule cart down the road.  You all didn’t find anything?”

Ischarus looked alarmed.  “No, we didn’t.  Although we do know the man came out of the woods here.  Did you investigate the woman?”

Semeion nodded.  “Yeah, pretty thoroughly.  She claimed to have leprosy, so I didn’t touch her.  But I rummaged through her cart and couldn’t find a thing.”

Charis peered down the road, but the woman was well out of view by this time.  “But the woman, could she have been the man disguised?”

Semeion shook his head.  “No way.  She was old and decrepit.  She was hunched over, even.  And even had she been able to stand up straight, she was a full foot shorter than the man.  She was tiny, that man was tall.  Not even the best disguise can alter a person’s height.”

The other three frowned.  Ischarus spoke the inevitable conclusion.  “If the woman wasn’t somehow disguised, then we’ve lost him.  He clearly came out of the forest here, and didn’t go back in.  He didn’t cross over the road and enter the forest on the other side.  One way or another, he seems to have just vanished.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, I agree.  And if that was the Bloodseeker, we may have just tipped him off to disappear.  If he was coming to find Darkbringer and found us instead, he would have known it was a trap.  If that was Bloodseeker, then the trap won’t work anymore.”

Charis sighed heavily and offered a hand to Ischarus.  “Well, we aren’t going to solve anything standing her all depressed.  Ischarus, ride with me.  Rhema, ride with Semeion.  Let’s get back to the villa and make sure Iasho is alright.”

The frustrated foursome slowly headed back to the burned out villa.  It would take a fair amount of planning to decide where to go from here.  Their best lead had just managed to slip through their fingers.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Four long days passed from the time that the foursome had given their dramatic performance in the Shrouded Tenor. They had managed to meet up back at the burned villa without difficulty along the way. During the day, Rhema’s father had made significant progress in planning for his new home. He had even gone so far as to wade through the nearby forest and mark trees that would likely be good for producing lumber for the construction.

The party had decided to stay away from Fingerdale for a few days and see if their performance brought about any results. It didn’t make sense to repeat the performance in other areas within Fingerdale because there would be the risk that the residents of Fingerdale would grow suspicious. If they gave the performance too often it would become obvious that it was simply just a performance.

Through the use of the horses, the stones and the burned out timbers were easily cleared. The site for the new villa was well on the way to being prepared for the time when the servants returned from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley. Iasho had received word that the servants had left from Barghost and were due to return in no more than two week’s time. If they worked hard, then they could have the new site prepared in addition to having the fields sown with seed once more. If the seeds could be sown, the coming servants could focus on helping to build the villa while the seeds germinated in the ground.

On the fourth day since the performance, Iasho and the foursome were in the fields planting seed when a sudden movement caught the eyes of Iasho and Charis. Both Iasho and Charis stood up and focused on the movement. Rhea, Ischarus, and Semeion saw the curiosity of their friends and they turned.

Semeion spoke quickly to his wife. “Charis? What is it?”

Charis didn’t speak in reply, but she did nod in the direction that she had seen movement. As she nodded, everyone saw a tall figure dressed in leather armor and a dark gray cloak emerge from the woods. As soon as the figure realized that he had been spotted, he stopped and examined the situation.

The figure wore a confused look upon his face. It appeared as though he had not been expecting to find five people standing around the fields. As the party studied what little they could see of his face from the distance, they noticed that his face appeared deeply scarred. His hair was clipped short, and it revealed several scars left over from strikes taken to the head.

Ischarus stepped forward and spoke. “Bloodseeker?” His voice rang through forest as he called across the field.

The figure stepped back into edge of the forest and began to run away. Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho immediately began to pursue the man, but the soft ground of the burned field made it difficult to follow with any speed. Semeion and Charis could tell immediately that they didn’t have much chance to catch the figure on foot if they had to run across the field first.

Semeion called out to the rest of the party. “Keep pursuing him, he might be the one we were looking for. Charis and I will go get our horses and circle around the edge of the forest.”

Ischarus nodded as he ran. Rhema and Iasho struggled to keep up with the speed that his powerful legs were able to generate in the loose soil. However, even with Ischarus’ strong legs the unknown man was easily escaping through the forest.

Within seconds Charis and Semeion were mounted atop their horses and riding along the edge of the field towards the forest. They were able to keep to the untilled ground and thus ride the horses hard. Charis yelled to Semeion as he followed closely behind. “I’ll circle left, you circle right. We’ll eventually both get to the road that leads back to Fingerdale. If we can get there by going around the trees before he can get to the road by going through them, we can contain him!”

Charis could tell that Semeion had heard her directions by the sound of the horse hooves behind her. He hadn’t replied, but he did guide Thana to the right. The thundering of Thana’s hooves upon the ground was growing further away. Charis dug her heels into Abijou’s side and spurred him to the forest edge.

She reached the spot in the forest where the man had first appeared. She was slightly behind Ischarus, Rhema, and Iasho. As she crossed the edge of the forest behind them she called through the trees. “Drive him through the trees toward the road. Semeion and I will be on the other side waiting!”

Iasho stopped and turned around. He yelled to his daughter as he slowed. “Keep pressing forward. I’ll go back and protect the other three horses!”

Ischarus was already pushing forward with effort, and he didn’t hear his father-in-law call the directions. Rhema did hear him, and she paused long enough to turn around. “Be careful, father! If he circles back to retrieve our horses, you’ll be alone!”

Iasho nodded and turned back to the location of the villa. He began to walk, knowing that it was not necessary for him to hurry. Rhema turned back to find Ischarus. He was trying to follow the man’s trail as quickly as possible. If she flanked his position she would be better able to prevent the man from doubling back upon her father.

The chase through the forest lasted for more than a mile before reaching the road to Fingerdale. The horses riding around the edge of the forest traveled far more than a mile in their route. In spite of the greater distance, both of the horses were able to make it to the other side before Ischarus and Rhema could make it through.

The road had been cut through the forest almost a century earlier in an attempt to enable quicker trade routes. Semeion circumvented the forest on the edge closest to Fingerdale. As he rounded the forest and brought Thana onto the rode, he saw a small cart coming in his direction. The cart was driven by an elderly woman and pulled by a simple mule. The woman was dressed in a simple tattered cloak and was only armed by an old prodding stick.

When the woman spotted Semeion coming towards her from the edge of the forest, she called out in a raised voice. “Stay back, bandit! I have leprosy! You may wish to rob me, but if you come close enough to touch me you will steal more than you bargained for!”

Semeion smiled and muttered to himself in a soft enough tone that there was no possible way that the woman could have heard him. “Leprosy, huh? Yeah, I bet that it’s leprosy. More than likely it’s a rouse to keep me from searching the cart. I smell something foul.”

Semeion smiled politely and directed Thana to approach from the front. “I’m actually tracking criminal movement through these woods, ma’am. I’ll respect your leprosy, but I will ask you to stop your mule and leave your cart for inspection.”

The woman smiled politely. “If you insist.” The woman pulled back on the mule’s reigns to get it to stop. “But just be careful. Leprosy can spread by touching any part of my skin whether it is attached to me or not.”

Semeion dismounted and left Thana to wander about ten feet from the cart. He drew back his cloak and revealed his blade. “If you don’t mind, I can use steel to search for criminal signs.”

The woman backed up upon hearing Semeion’s assertion. She abandoned her cart and allowed Semeion to approach and search it. Despite a thorough search, Semeion only found a few fruits and vegetables. There was no place for anyone to hide within the cart.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the short woman. “I’m sorry for holding you up, ma’am. You’ve been more than patient and cooperative. Are you heading to Fingerdale?”

The woman approached the cart as Semeion backed away to return to Thana’s saddle. She smiled as she sat upon the driver’s bench. “Indeed I am.”

Semeion nodded to the woman as he swung himself up into the saddle. “Have a safe travel, then. Hopefully your mule can get you there before the sun goes down.”

The woman smiled and moved further down the road. Semeion traveled in the opposite direction towards where he was sure the man would have to emerge from the forest. Several minutes later he came upon Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis standing on the side of the road. Charis was still mounted.

Rhema waved Semeion over when she spotted him coming. “No luck?”

Semeion shook his head. “No. I didn’t see anyone except an old woman driving a mule cart down the road. You all didn’t find anything?”

Ischarus looked alarmed. “No, we didn’t. Although we do know the man came out of the woods here. Did you investigate the woman?”

Semeion nodded. “Yeah, pretty thoroughly. She claimed to have leprosy, so I didn’t touch her. But I rummaged through her cart and couldn’t find a thing.”

Charis peered down the road, but the woman was well out of view by this time. “But the woman, could she have been the man disguised?”

Semeion shook his head. “No way. She was old and decrepit. She was hunched over, even. And even had she been able to stand up straight, she was a full foot shorter than the man. She was tiny, that man was tall. Not even the best disguise can alter a person’s height.”

The other three frowned. Ischarus spoke the inevitable conclusion. “If the woman wasn’t somehow disguised, then we’ve lost him. He clearly came out of the forest here, and didn’t go back in. He didn’t cross over the road and enter the forest on the other side. One way or another, he seems to have just vanished.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree. And if that was the Bloodseeker, we may have just tipped him off to disappear. If he was coming to find Darkbringer and found us instead, he would have known it was a trap. If that was Bloodseeker, then the trap won’t work anymore.”

Charis sighed heavily and offered a hand to Ischarus. “Well, we aren’t going to solve anything standing her all depressed. Ischarus, ride with me. Rhema, ride with Semeion. Let’s get back to the villa and make sure Iasho is alright.”

The frustrated foursome slowly headed back to the burned out villa. It would take a fair amount of planning to decide where to go from here. Their best lead had just managed to slip through their fingers.[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 20, 2007)

The following day, the foursome decided to set off and return to the _Shrouded Tenor._  Something they had done during their first visit had obviously touch someone who knew how to find the Bloodseeker.  They were confident that the message had been received in spite of their inability to handle Bloodseeker’s coming to Huetown and the burned out villa.  Of course, this was assuming that the man who appeared out of the forest was indeed Bloodseeker.  However, that seemed like a reasonable assumption to make.

The Drakontai returning to the villa from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley would likely be another week in coming.  Iasho and the foursome had gotten a good start on replanting the fields.  It was undeniable that there was still plenty of work that could be accomplished if they remained at the site of the destruction.  However, in spite of the necessary work the party still headed to Huetown.

Rhema looked down from her horse at her father who was standing at her side.  “Are you sure that you wish us to leave, father?  We could get a fair amount of planting done today.”

Semeion turned to look at the sky to the east just above the trees.  “The weather looks favorable, at least.  It should be a clear and bright day for work in the fields, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be too hot to work the ground, either.”

Iasho smiled pleasantly but dismissed the comments of the party.  “No.  The work of the villa will be done when we have time to do it.  The workers are returning home, and they are growing quite skilled in learning how to care for the earth and the plants within.  They can do that work if it still needs doing when they arrive.  You four are the only ones who can find this Bloodseeker in the present.  A day away from the fields will not hurt us any more than the fire already did.  Go, and have a profitable day looking for the man who came yesterday.”

Rhema once more looked down upon her father with love in her eyes.  “And you will promise to be  safe?  If we leave, you will be alone.  Should Bloodseeker return with reinforcements you could be caught.”

Iasho allowed a soft chuckle to pass through his person and out of his mouth.  “What would they want with an old farmer?  They have already destroyed my home and my ability to maintain my wealth.  If they were at all serious about wanting me for any reason, then there are far better means to reach that purpose.  If they want an old man, I will not be afraid.”

Ischarus laughed heartily.  “You are far from old, Iasho.  The work that you have accomplished so far in preparing the land demonstrates that.  You do not give yourself enough credit.  But even so I agree with you.  I do not think it is you that they are after.  If someone wanted to kidnap you and they knew about the work that this villa supports, they would have waited a few weeks.  By then we would have been well on our way to Quehalost and away from the villa for several weeks on end.  Then they could have taken you and allowed their trail to grow cold before we returned.”

Abijou pawed at the ground.  Charis looked to the west in response.  “The horses are restless, today.  It’s been a while since they’ve done anything but pull boulders and burned timber across the ground.  For their sake, I think we should be on our way, and with haste.  Let’s let our horses run as they desire.”

Ischarus smiled and nodded at Charis’ encouragement.  He spun Elistra around and with a quick jab of his heel she sprang forward.  The remaining three horses didn’t need much encouragement from their riders to follow Elistra.  As the nature of the horses governed, Shauvry soon overtook Elistra and lead the party to the road in the direction of Fingerdale.  The few miles would pass quite quickly with the speed of the horses consuming the distance.

It took the party about as much time to reach Fingerdale as it did to find the _Shrouded Tenor_ once they were within the city walls.  It was not permissible to allow the horses to move in any fashion quicker than a trot within the walls without a guarded escort.  Considering that the horses had been permitted to gallop much of the distance between Huetown and Fingerdale this regulation was actually helpful.  The speed regulations forced the horses to walk and cool down their muscles before being tied to the posts in front of the _Shrouded Tenor._

Once the horses were tied, the foursome strutted back into the tavern.  Semeion had originally been concerned about showing up together and revealing that their earlier show had simply been bait for anyone who knew Bloodseeker.  The rest of the party was quick to illustrate that their cover had already been blown.  If the man from the prior day was indeed Bloodseeker, he would now know that the presence of Darkbringer was a hoax.

Inside the tavern, the scene looked much as it had almost a week ago.  Wolf the Stout stood behind the bar.  At the present, he was slaving over a cooking fire with a wooden spoon in one hand and a long cutting knife in the other.  The woman who had been talking to the dwarf the other day was once more seated at the bar, although this time the woman and Wolf were not in direct dialogue.  The rest of the tavern was composed of a smattering of patrons.  Some of the patrons were the same while others were new.

The dwarf turned to look at the party as they opened the door to his tavern.  He automatically smiled at the sound of the opening of the door.  However, his smile quickly faded into bitterness as he recognized the foursome from before.  The woman sitting on the other side of the bar followed his glare across the room and also spotted the foursome.  Her smile did not vanish.

Wolf lifted the spoon and pointed it in the direction of Charis.  “We’ll have none of your dramatic displays of power today, do you hear?  Your antics frightened away several of my good customers for a few days.  I’ll not tolerate that kind of behavior again!”

The bartender’s voice was stern and his deep voice filled the room.  His tone was a ploy.  It was designed to come across as stern but reassuring.  Several of the patrons who were present both today and for the prior visit had begun to look nervous when Charis again walked into the tavern.  Wolf’s stern warning gave them the confidence that they needed to remain in the tavern with a feeling of security.

The woman sitting by the bar turned back to the dwarf and continued to smile as though she were enjoying the scene.  “Wolf, please.  I rather enjoyed the show, myself.  The effects of the magic were dramatic, and there wasn’t any harm done to a single person at all.  In fact, I don’t think that any harm was done to your tavern, even.  Unless you want to count the fact that you had to relight a single candle.”

Wolf frowned and allowed a grumble of disapproval to usher forth.  It was barely audible, although it wasn’t truly composed of words in the first place.  The grumble was merely a commentary regarding the dwarf’s impression of the fact that the woman was taking the side of the foursome.

The woman continued to speak.  “Oh, Wolf.  Sometimes I think that you worry all too much.”

Rhema approached the woman from her left side and rested her forearms on top of the bar.  “Oh, I can assure you that there will be no trouble today.  In fact, I can also reassure you in the fact that we’re here on official business only.  We’re not here to cause trouble.  We’re here to gather a bit more information.”

Wolf sneered a bit.  “Seems to me that you were here to get information the last time you came.”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife.  “Oh, please, Wolf.  You know as well as I do that the last time we weren’t here at all to get some information!  We were here to disseminate some information.  We had a message to deliver.  Today is different.”

The dwarf snapped a reply back to the much taller Drakontos.  “Just what kind of establishment do you think that I run here?  This is not some underground gathering for information!  We are not here to serve your communal needs.  We are here to serve some beef, chicken, and maybe a pint or two of ale.”

Semeion smiled, but refrained from approaching the bar.  Instead, Semeion turned his head slightly so that he could take in many of the occupants of the tavern.  “And yet, Wolf, our message was received.  Someone in this establishment got the message that we intended to be delivered.  And my money is that you know who we are looking for.  I don’t think you are nearly as simple as you pretend to be.”

The dwarf glared toward Semeion.  “I know no such thing!  This is an honest business!”

Suddenly Charis reached out and touched Semeion on the forearm.  “Look!  There he is!”  Charis was pointing out the window next to the door.  The face of the man who had come to the villa yesterday walked past the window as if on his way to the door to come in.

Together, Semeion and Charis charged the door.  Ischarus and Rhema had been focusing on Wolf, so by the time they turned around to look at the face of the man it had moved beyond the window.  As it was, they were slower in responding to Charis’ statement than Semeion.  By the time Ischarus and Rhema knew to move, Semeion and Charis were already at the door.

The door sprang open from the inside.  Charis exploded through the door with Semeion immediately following her.  The young mage nearly collided with his wife as Charis stopped immediately upon bursting through the door.  When Semeion took time to look around at what Charis had seen, he understood why she had stopped short.

Ischarus slowed once he saw that Charis and Semeion had stopped.  “Charis?  What’s wrong?”

Charis shook her head.  “He’s gone!  I saw the face and shoulders walk past the window.  But he’s gone!”

Semeion narrowed his eyes.  “I don’t like this.  Bloodseeker is playing games with us.  He is deliberately setting us up, and we can do nothing but fall victim.  This isn’t getting us anywhere.  We’ve got to figure out how to do this on our terms.”

Slowly the door to the outside closed as Charis and Semeion stepped back inside.  The foursome had a dejected look about them, as if the confidence that had been so strong inside of them only moments before had now been deflated.  They took up occupancy in one of the booths along the wall opposite the bar and ordered and early lunch.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The following day, the foursome decided to set off and return to the Shrouded Tenor. Something they had done during their first visit had obviously touch someone who knew how to find the Bloodseeker. They were confident that the message had been received in spite of their inability to handle Bloodseeker’s coming to Huetown and the burned out villa. Of course, this was assuming that the man who appeared out of the forest was indeed Bloodseeker. However, that seemed like a reasonable assumption to make.

The Drakontai returning to the villa from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley would likely be another week in coming. Iasho and the foursome had gotten a good start on replanting the fields. It was undeniable that there was still plenty of work that could be accomplished if they remained at the site of the destruction. However, in spite of the necessary work the party still headed to Huetown.

Rhema looked down from her horse at her father who was standing at her side. “Are you sure that you wish us to leave, father? We could get a fair amount of planting done today.”

Semeion turned to look at the sky to the east just above the trees. “The weather looks favorable, at least. It should be a clear and bright day for work in the fields, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be too hot to work the ground, either.”

Iasho smiled pleasantly but dismissed the comments of the party. “No. The work of the villa will be done when we have time to do it. The workers are returning home, and they are growing quite skilled in learning how to care for the earth and the plants within. They can do that work if it still needs doing when they arrive. You four are the only ones who can find this Bloodseeker in the present. A day away from the fields will not hurt us any more than the fire already did. Go, and have a profitable day looking for the man who came yesterday.”

Rhema once more looked down upon her father with love in her eyes. “And you will promise to be safe? If we leave, you will be alone. Should Bloodseeker return with reinforcements you could be caught.”

Iasho allowed a soft chuckle to pass through his person and out of his mouth. “What would they want with an old farmer? They have already destroyed my home and my ability to maintain my wealth. If they were at all serious about wanting me for any reason, then there are far better means to reach that purpose. If they want an old man, I will not be afraid.”

Ischarus laughed heartily. “You are far from old, Iasho. The work that you have accomplished so far in preparing the land demonstrates that. You do not give yourself enough credit. But even so I agree with you. I do not think it is you that they are after. If someone wanted to kidnap you and they knew about the work that this villa supports, they would have waited a few weeks. By then we would have been well on our way to Quehalost and away from the villa for several weeks on end. Then they could have taken you and allowed their trail to grow cold before we returned.”

Abijou pawed at the ground. Charis looked to the west in response. “The horses are restless, today. It’s been a while since they’ve done anything but pull boulders and burned timber across the ground. For their sake, I think we should be on our way, and with haste. Let’s let our horses run as they desire.”

Ischarus smiled and nodded at Charis’ encouragement. He spun Elistra around and with a quick jab of his heel she sprang forward. The remaining three horses didn’t need much encouragement from their riders to follow Elistra. As the nature of the horses governed, Shauvry soon overtook Elistra and lead the party to the road in the direction of Fingerdale. The few miles would pass quite quickly with the speed of the horses consuming the distance.

It took the party about as much time to reach Fingerdale as it did to find the Shrouded Tenor once they were within the city walls. It was not permissible to allow the horses to move in any fashion quicker than a trot within the walls without a guarded escort. Considering that the horses had been permitted to gallop much of the distance between Huetown and Fingerdale this regulation was actually helpful. The speed regulations forced the horses to walk and cool down their muscles before being tied to the posts in front of the Shrouded Tenor.

Once the horses were tied, the foursome strutted back into the tavern. Semeion had originally been concerned about showing up together and revealing that their earlier show had simply been bait for anyone who knew Bloodseeker. The rest of the party was quick to illustrate that their cover had already been blown. If the man from the prior day was indeed Bloodseeker, he would now know that the presence of Darkbringer was a hoax.

Inside the tavern, the scene looked much as it had almost a week ago. Wolf the Stout stood behind the bar. At the present, he was slaving over a cooking fire with a wooden spoon in one hand and a long cutting knife in the other. The woman who had been talking to the dwarf the other day was once more seated at the bar, although this time the woman and Wolf were not in direct dialogue. The rest of the tavern was composed of a smattering of patrons. Some of the patrons were the same while others were new.

The dwarf turned to look at the party as they opened the door to his tavern. He automatically smiled at the sound of the opening of the door. However, his smile quickly faded into bitterness as he recognized the foursome from before. The woman sitting on the other side of the bar followed his glare across the room and also spotted the foursome. Her smile did not vanish.

Wolf lifted the spoon and pointed it in the direction of Charis. “We’ll have none of your dramatic displays of power today, do you hear? Your antics frightened away several of my good customers for a few days. I’ll not tolerate that kind of behavior again!”

The bartender’s voice was stern and his deep voice filled the room. His tone was a ploy. It was designed to come across as stern but reassuring. Several of the patrons who were present both today and for the prior visit had begun to look nervous when Charis again walked into the tavern. Wolf’s stern warning gave them the confidence that they needed to remain in the tavern with a feeling of security.

The woman sitting by the bar turned back to the dwarf and continued to smile as though she were enjoying the scene. “Wolf, please. I rather enjoyed the show, myself. The effects of the magic were dramatic, and there wasn’t any harm done to a single person at all. In fact, I don’t think that any harm was done to your tavern, even. Unless you want to count the fact that you had to relight a single candle.”

Wolf frowned and allowed a grumble of disapproval to usher forth. It was barely audible, although it wasn’t truly composed of words in the first place. The grumble was merely a commentary regarding the dwarf’s impression of the fact that the woman was taking the side of the foursome.

The woman continued to speak. “Oh, Wolf. Sometimes I think that you worry all too much.”

Rhema approached the woman from her left side and rested her forearms on top of the bar. “Oh, I can assure you that there will be no trouble today. In fact, I can also reassure you in the fact that we’re here on official business only. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re here to gather a bit more information.”

Wolf sneered a bit. “Seems to me that you were here to get information the last time you came.”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife. “Oh, please, Wolf. You know as well as I do that the last time we weren’t here at all to get some information! We were here to disseminate some information. We had a message to deliver. Today is different.”

The dwarf snapped a reply back to the much taller Drakontos. “Just what kind of establishment do you think that I run here? This is not some underground gathering for information! We are not here to serve your communal needs. We are here to serve some beef, chicken, and maybe a pint or two of ale.”

Semeion smiled, but refrained from approaching the bar. Instead, Semeion turned his head slightly so that he could take in many of the occupants of the tavern. “And yet, Wolf, our message was received. Someone in this establishment got the message that we intended to be delivered. And my money is that you know who we are looking for. I don’t think you are nearly as simple as you pretend to be.”

The dwarf glared toward Semeion. “I know no such thing! This is an honest business!”

Suddenly Charis reached out and touched Semeion on the forearm. “Look! There he is!” Charis was pointing out the window next to the door. The face of the man who had come to the villa yesterday walked past the window as if on his way to the door to come in.

Together, Semeion and Charis charged the door. Ischarus and Rhema had been focusing on Wolf, so by the time they turned around to look at the face of the man it had moved beyond the window. As it was, they were slower in responding to Charis’ statement than Semeion. By the time Ischarus and Rhema knew to move, Semeion and Charis were already at the door.

The door sprang open from the inside. Charis exploded through the door with Semeion immediately following her. The young mage nearly collided with his wife as Charis stopped immediately upon bursting through the door. When Semeion took time to look around at what Charis had seen, he understood why she had stopped short.

Ischarus slowed once he saw that Charis and Semeion had stopped. “Charis? What’s wrong?”

Charis shook her head. “He’s gone! I saw the face and shoulders walk past the window. But he’s gone!”

Semeion narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this. Bloodseeker is playing games with us. He is deliberately setting us up, and we can do nothing but fall victim. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’ve got to figure out how to do this on our terms.”

Slowly the door to the outside closed as Charis and Semeion stepped back inside. The foursome had a dejected look about them, as if the confidence that had been so strong inside of them only moments before had now been deflated. They took up occupancy in one of the booths along the wall opposite the bar and ordered and early lunch. 
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Feb 22, 2007)

The foursome sulked over lunch and a few ales.  It was clear that Bloodseeker had been waiting to strike against them.  It was actually clear to them that Bloodseeker had been specifically waiting for them to come into the _Shrouded Tenor_ so that he could use the place against them in the same manner as they had used the tavern against him.

Ischarus lightly bounced his fist against the top of the table when he was finished with his meal.  “I just don’t like being played, that’s all.”

Semeion chuckled at Ischarus’ response.  “Even though we clearly played Bloodseeker in the same manner and started it?  You know what they say.  If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.”

Ischarus glared at Semeion.  It was quite clear the comment wasn’t welcome at the present time.  Rhema saw Ischarus’ foul mood and intervened.  “Listen, guys.  Either way, arguing amongst ourselves only gives Bloodseeker what he wants.  If we let ourselves get bothered by having the tables turned then we are letting him win.  It’s as simple as that.”

The two men locked glances as if to signal a truth.  Their expressions lacked any sign of an apology, but they did note that Rhema had been heard and understood.  Semeion leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply.

Charis nibbled on a callus just to the left of one of her fingernails as she spoke.  She wanted to take the opportunity Rhema had given to her and continue to change the angle of the conversation.  “You see, the thing that bothers me most of all is that Bloodseeker knew when we would be here.  From his perspective, I think it was reasonably predictable that we would return some day.  But Bloodseeker was ready for us today at this time.  So either he was watching the tavern all day or there is an informant in here.”

Rhema nodded and spoke quickly so as to keep the men from talking until they had more of a chance to cool their tempers and their tongues.  “Yeah.  I think that it is pretty reasonable to think that there is an informant within the tavern.  After all, that’s precisely what we were hoping for when we came in here the first time.  Someone took our original message back to Bloodseeker and informed him of our message.  “

Charis continued to speak with a smirk towards Rhema.  “Good point.  It’d be reasonable to think that if there was an informant here on the day we came that Bloodseeker would have the informant in here again waiting for us.”

Semeion spoke before Rhema could take the reigns once more.  He had noted the exchange of expressions between Charis and Rhema earlier and their ploy made him smile.  “Yeah, but there wasn’t much time from when we entered the tavern to when we saw Bloodseeker outside.  I don’t know if that was enough time to summon Bloodseeker unless he was really close at hand.”

Charis turned to Semeion and looked innocently upon her husband.  “Or, perhaps Bloodseeker knows magic like you do?  If Bloodseeker can master the magic of teleportation, then I am pretty sure that Bloodseeer could master the magic of scrying and magical messaging.”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement.  “Yeah, I suppose that is certainly possible.  But if Bloodseeker was powerful enough to master the magic of teleportation, why would he risk retreating through the woods the other day?  No offense, Semeion, but most mages are reasonably frail.  Their mental tasks prevent them from developing too physically.  If he could master teleportation and scrying magic, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all to show up at the villa and find us waiting for him.”

Rhema nodded in complete agreement with her husband.  “That is definitely true.  If Bloodseeker was a true master of magic, then he sure played the other day poorly, at least tactically speaking.”

Semeion picked up the conversation next.  He smiled as he realized that since he had last spoken the conversation had worked its way counterclockwise around the table.  He would continue the trend.  “Yeah, I doubt Bloodseeker knows great magic.  It doesn’t fit the experience we’ve had so far.  However, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Bloodseeker knew a bit of magic.  Our experiences have always included something strange.”

Semeion’s mind began to turn under this new realization.  The party sat silent for a few moments before Charis spoke.  “Well, we’re done with our meal.  What’s say we go get our horses and head out?  If Bloodseeker has a spy in here, we best not say too much too loudly.”

They exchanged a few more words and left the tavern.  Rhema paid the bill and exchanged a few pleasantries with Wolf.  She indicated that his food was good and to help make up for their earlier trouble they would return and bring business to his door.  The party headed to their horses and began to ride them through Fingerdale.

Before they could reach the city gates, the party came upon a small gathering of people.  There were harried voices calling out through the crowd.  The random exclamations informed the party that the city guard had already been summoned, there was some kind of physical exchange occurring further down the alley, and a few people were placing bets as to the outcome.

Ischarus spun his horse to face the alley and stood in his saddle.  “Move, people!  We can help and separate them!”

Rhema rolled her eyes.  She spoke softly to herself. “By the gods, here we go again.” She shouted a little louder to Ischarus, who was preparing to wade through the crowd atop Elistra.  “Don’t you dare draw a weapon, Ischarus!  I’ll not have you held and questioned by the city guard again!”

Ischarus smiled at Rhema’s words.  Sometimes doing the right thing meant putting himself in jeopardy.  He looked down and noted that the crowds began to slowly part in front of him.  It would be a slow passage, and he certainly couldn’t use the strength of his horse to push people aside.  That would inevitably cause more trouble than he would desire.

Ischarus also noted the sounds of the rest of the horses falling into line behind Elistra.  Charis brought Abijou first and was followed by Semeion atop Thana and Rhema atop Shauvry.  If they were going to get into trouble with the guard today, it would be a group effort this time.  Ischarus smiled cynically as he slowly urged Elistra through the crowd.

When they had pushed the horses through the crowd and drew close enough to the confrontation they stared with wide eyes upon recognizing one of the combatants.  They were too far away to hear exactly what was being said between the pair of fighting men, but it was clear that one of the men was Bloodseeker.  Ischarus fought the urge to surge through the crowd upon recognizing Bloodseeker.  His eyes narrowed in focus upon the combat as he continued to slowly wade through the people.

The pair of men fought with swords.  Bloodseeker fought with a short sword in one hand and left his second hand free for balance.  His opponent slashed at him with a pair of daggers.  They exchanged blows several times, each fighter parrying the blow of the other.

Bloodseeker finally slashed out and struck a clean blow across his opponent’s right thigh.  It looked to be a strike of great opportunity at first.  However, Bloodseeker’s opponent quickly turned the blunder into a great opportunity.  Bloodseeker’s opponent revealed all too quickly that the opening in his defenses had been quite intentional.  He had opened himself up to draw Bloodseeker close.  Once Bloodseeker landed the anticipated strike, Bloodseeker’s opponent slashed forward with both daggers in a simultaneous strike at Bloodseeker’s chest.  

The strike hit hard with both daggers digging deep into Bloodseeker’s chest.  The right dagger plunged gravely into the area where the heart would have been located.  Dark red blood ejected from the wound as the dagger was twisted and removed.  The second dagger plunged into the left area of the chest and surely punctured Bloodseeker’s lungs.

Bloodseeker fell limply to the ground as his opponent stowed his daggers.  He heard the approaching horses and looked up to make eye contact with Ischarus.  Many of the people who had been gathered around the fight now surged back away from the bloody scene.  Bloodseeker’s opponent seemed to control a significant amount of fighting prowess.  

The backward surge of the people would guarantee that Bloodseeker’s opponent would have all the time he needed.  With a simple motion he knelt beside Bloodseeker and mouthed a few words.  The commotion of the people and the distance separating Bloodseeker from Ischarus made the words impossible to hear.  In an instant, Bloodseeker and his opponent vanished into thin air.  Bloodseeker was surely dead, and there would be no body left to examine.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The foursome sulked over lunch and a few ales. It was clear that Bloodseeker had been waiting to strike against them. It was actually clear to them that Bloodseeker had been specifically waiting for them to come into the Shrouded Tenor so that he could use the place against them in the same manner as they had used the tavern against him.

Ischarus lightly bounced his fist against the top of the table when he was finished with his meal. “I just don’t like being played, that’s all.”

Semeion chuckled at Ischarus’ response. “Even though we clearly played Bloodseeker in the same manner and started it? You know what they say. If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.”

Ischarus glared at Semeion. It was quite clear the comment wasn’t welcome at the present time. Rhema saw Ischarus’ foul mood and intervened. “Listen, guys. Either way, arguing amongst ourselves only gives Bloodseeker what he wants. If we let ourselves get bothered by having the tables turned then we are letting him win. It’s as simple as that.”

The two men locked glances as if to signal a truth. Their expressions lacked any sign of an apology, but they did note that Rhema had been heard and understood. Semeion leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply.

Charis nibbled on a callus just to the left of one of her fingernails as she spoke. She wanted to take the opportunity Rhema had given to her and continue to change the angle of the conversation. “You see, the thing that bothers me most of all is that Bloodseeker knew when we would be here. From his perspective, I think it was reasonably predictable that we would return some day. But Bloodseeker was ready for us today at this time. So either he was watching the tavern all day or there is an informant in here.”

Rhema nodded and spoke quickly so as to keep the men from talking until they had more of a chance to cool their tempers and their tongues. “Yeah. I think that it is pretty reasonable to think that there is an informant within the tavern. After all, that’s precisely what we were hoping for when we came in here the first time. Someone took our original message back to Bloodseeker and informed him of our message. “

Charis continued to speak with a smirk towards Rhema. “Good point. It’d be reasonable to think that if there was an informant here on the day we came that Bloodseeker would have the informant in here again waiting for us.”

Semeion spoke before Rhema could take the reigns once more. He had noted the exchange of expressions between Charis and Rhema earlier and their ploy made him smile. “Yeah, but there wasn’t much time from when we entered the tavern to when we saw Bloodseeker outside. I don’t know if that was enough time to summon Bloodseeker unless he was really close at hand.”

Charis turned to Semeion and looked innocently upon her husband. “Or, perhaps Bloodseeker knows magic like you do? If Bloodseeker can master the magic of teleportation, then I am pretty sure that Bloodseeer could master the magic of scrying and magical messaging.”

Ischarus nodded in partial agreement. “Yeah, I suppose that is certainly possible. But if Bloodseeker was powerful enough to master the magic of teleportation, why would he risk retreating through the woods the other day? No offense, Semeion, but most mages are reasonably frail. Their mental tasks prevent them from developing too physically. If he could master teleportation and scrying magic, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all to show up at the villa and find us waiting for him.”

Rhema nodded in complete agreement with her husband. “That is definitely true. If Bloodseeker was a true master of magic, then he sure played the other day poorly, at least tactically speaking.”

Semeion picked up the conversation next. He smiled as he realized that since he had last spoken the conversation had worked its way counterclockwise around the table. He would continue the trend. “Yeah, I doubt Bloodseeker knows great magic. It doesn’t fit the experience we’ve had so far. However, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Bloodseeker knew a bit of magic. Our experiences have always included something strange.”

Semeion’s mind began to turn under this new realization. The party sat silent for a few moments before Charis spoke. “Well, we’re done with our meal. What’s say we go get our horses and head out? If Bloodseeker has a spy in here, we best not say too much too loudly.”

They exchanged a few more words and left the tavern. Rhema paid the bill and exchanged a few pleasantries with Wolf. She indicated that his food was good and to help make up for their earlier trouble they would return and bring business to his door. The party headed to their horses and began to ride them through Fingerdale.

Before they could reach the city gates, the party came upon a small gathering of people. There were harried voices calling out through the crowd. The random exclamations informed the party that the city guard had already been summoned, there was some kind of physical exchange occurring further down the alley, and a few people were placing bets as to the outcome.

Ischarus spun his horse to face the alley and stood in his saddle. “Move, people! We can help and separate them!”

Rhema rolled her eyes. She spoke softly to herself. “By the gods, here we go again.” She shouted a little louder to Ischarus, who was preparing to wade through the crowd atop Elistra. “Don’t you dare draw a weapon, Ischarus! I’ll not have you held and questioned by the city guard again!”

Ischarus smiled at Rhema’s words. Sometimes doing the right thing meant putting himself in jeopardy. He looked down and noted that the crowds began to slowly part in front of him. It would be a slow passage, and he certainly couldn’t use the strength of his horse to push people aside. That would inevitably cause more trouble than he would desire.

Ischarus also noted the sounds of the rest of the horses falling into line behind Elistra. Charis brought Abijou first and was followed by Semeion atop Thana and Rhema atop Shauvry. If they were going to get into trouble with the guard today, it would be a group effort this time. Ischarus smiled cynically as he slowly urged Elistra through the crowd.

When they had pushed the horses through the crowd and drew close enough to the confrontation they stared with wide eyes upon recognizing one of the combatants. They were too far away to hear exactly what was being said between the pair of fighting men, but it was clear that one of the men was Bloodseeker. Ischarus fought the urge to surge through the crowd upon recognizing Bloodseeker. His eyes narrowed in focus upon the combat as he continued to slowly wade through the people.

The pair of men fought with swords. Bloodseeker fought with a short sword in one hand and left his second hand free for balance. His opponent slashed at him with a pair of daggers. They exchanged blows several times, each fighter parrying the blow of the other.

Bloodseeker finally slashed out and struck a clean blow across his opponent’s right thigh. It looked to be a strike of great opportunity at first. However, Bloodseeker’s opponent quickly turned the blunder into a great opportunity. Bloodseeker’s opponent revealed all too quickly that the opening in his defenses had been quite intentional. He had opened himself up to draw Bloodseeker close. Once Bloodseeker landed the anticipated strike, Bloodseeker’s opponent slashed forward with both daggers in a simultaneous strike at Bloodseeker’s chest. 

The strike hit hard with both daggers digging deep into Bloodseeker’s chest. The right dagger plunged gravely into the area where the heart would have been located. Dark red blood ejected from the wound as the dagger was twisted and removed. The second dagger plunged into the left area of the chest and surely punctured Bloodseeker’s lungs.

Bloodseeker fell limply to the ground as his opponent stowed his daggers. He heard the approaching horses and looked up to make eye contact with Ischarus. Many of the people who had been gathered around the fight now surged back away from the bloody scene. Bloodseeker’s opponent seemed to control a significant amount of fighting prowess. 

The backward surge of the people would guarantee that Bloodseeker’s opponent would have all the time he needed. With a simple motion he knelt beside Bloodseeker and mouthed a few words. The commotion of the people and the distance separating Bloodseeker from Ischarus made the words impossible to hear. In an instant, Bloodseeker and his opponent vanished into thin air. Bloodseeker was surely dead, and there would be no body left to examine. 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 25, 2007)

*Chapter Four: DECEPTION DOUBLED*

Two frustrating weeks passed by for the party of adventurers.  There was no further word on Bloodseeker in spite of the several attempts made to dig up information.  Trips to the _Shrouded Tenor_ turned up no strange occurrences or tales.  Nothing was being said about Bloodseeker at all.

There was little else being said about the mage who managed to kill Bloodseeker and then teleport him away.  The city guard was unable to find any credible witnesses to give an accounting as to what had started the fight.  Those witnesses who were close enough to see the fight in detail said that one minute the alley was quiet and the next minute the alley erupted in violence.  There was no apparent rhyme or reason as to the attack.

In sum, the party had a great deal of frustration to pour into the repairs toward the villa.  The villa’s repair and the replanting of the fields benefited greatly from the frustrated energy of the party.  By the time the Drakontai servants made the trip from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley in Barghost back to the villa in Fingerdale, much of the fields had been replanted.  With greater manpower, the remaining portion of the villa was able to be stripped away.  The foundations were easily excavated and re-laid.  Soon the ground floor took shape from the collected field stone.

On the fifteenth day from when the party experienced the death of Bloodseeker, the residents of the villa sat in a quiet circle around a small bonfire.  The fire had served as a cooking fire several hours past, but now the main purpose of the fire was simply to take the chill off of the nighttime air.  The sun had been down for several hours and many of the servants had begun to doze in the cool evening.  They were all tired from a hard day of caring for the fields in the morning followed by moving vast quantities of timber in the afternoon.  Tomorrow there were plans to plane the wood into planks suitable for constructing the ceiling of the first floor.

In the shadows along the edge of the wood, the figure of a woman stepped out from the trees and silently picked her way towards the bonfire.  She smiled as she focused on the gathering.  They wouldn’t be expecting her, and that would make her approach even easier.  Her hands slipped down to check the status of the sword she carried upon her hip.  The blade was securely fastened into its scabbard.  Her hands then checked to make sure the daggers sheathed under each armpit were secured in their sheaths as well.

She had come armed to the teeth, although she knew that if she played her cards right she shouldn’t even need to draw a blade.  Her task would be best accomplished without the use of a blade.  Even still, the presence of the blades gave her a decent back-up plan in addition to potentially helping to secure a route for retreat.

She slowly crept closer to the bonfire.  The woman watched the fading flames dance and knew that the dancing of the shadows could be a blessing or a curse.  So long as the flames stayed low, their flickering would be minimized and the likelihood of the light around the fire remaining constant was great.  If the flames were to rise they would be more likely to catch the wind and dance about.  If the flames danced, she would have more difficulty discerning the presence of the shadows.

Fortunately, none of the residents of the villa felt energetic enough to add wood to the waning fire.  Darkness crept closer to the gathering with each passing minute.  After approaching slowly for nearly a half an hour, the woman was within feet of grabbing Rhema from behind.  She brushed back a simple strand of red hair and smiled before speaking.  “You all let anyone creep out of the woods at your back?”

In a flash, Ischarus had a small piece of lumber in his hand and positioned himself between Rhema and the voice.  Charis joined his side.  She was fortunate to have been carrying her pick.  The pick had been used earlier with the wood and stone, so it remained by her side.

Rhema jumped up and turned around with a start, but not before Ischarus and Charis were able to move.  Her eyes searched into the darkness.  In spite of her search, the shadows cast by Ischarus and Charis made it impossible to see the red haired woman.

The intruder spoke again, “Do you always greet guests with weapons?  I could have continued to creep closer to you all if I was intent upon injuring you.”

Ischarus lowered his guard slightly, although he did not relinquish his grip upon the wood.  “I don’t think that it is particularly odd to see how we could feel the need to defend ourselves.  After all, you certainly came this far without desiring to be detected.”

The woman laughed.  “And here I thought you all liked to play games.  Perhaps I was wrong in my earlier assessment.”

The rest of the residents of the villa wisely moved to the far side of the fire.  Most of them were only marginally trained in the ways of combat.  It would be better for them if they stayed out of the potential zone of danger and left the fighting to Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion had worked himself around the fire and to a position beside Rhema.  “Perhaps if you would step out of the shadows we could feel more comfortable in letting our defenses down?”

The woman complied.  She stepped several paces to Ischarus’ right before approaching the fire and stepping into the light.  She wanted to avoid Ischarus’ immediate threat range as much as possible.  Even though it was an unwieldy piece of wood, in his hands it could be a dangerous weapon.  “Very well.  I’ll step into the light.”

As the woman stepped close enough to the fire to reveal the contours of her face, all but Rhema had difficulty distinguishing the identity of the woman.  However, Rhema immediately recognized her.  “The woman from the _Shrouded Tenor_?  What are you doing here?”

The woman smiled politely and extended her hands away from her sides with her palms up.  Her hands were empty.  “I was touched by your predicament.  You’re seeking Bloodseeker, who apparently is now dead.  From what my sources can tell me about you all, you are seeking Bloodseeker to find out who was behind the destruction that I now see for myself.  Am I right so far?”

Rhema nodded.  “Sure.  But that fails to explain why you are here.  It does explain that you know a fair amount about us, though.  So tell us.  Why are you here under the cover of darkness?”

The woman smiled.  “I serve a mage.  When I heard that you were seeking the Ephistaemi I took your plight to him.  I thought that perhaps he could help.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Four: DECEPTION DOUBLED

Two frustrating weeks passed by for the party of adventurers. There was no further word on Bloodseeker in spite of the several attempts made to dig up information. Trips to the Shrouded Tenor turned up no strange occurrences or tales. Nothing was being said about Bloodseeker at all.

There was little else being said about the mage who managed to kill Bloodseeker and then teleport him away. The city guard was unable to find any credible witnesses to give an accounting as to what had started the fight. Those witnesses who were close enough to see the fight in detail said that one minute the alley was quiet and the next minute the alley erupted in violence. There was no apparent rhyme or reason as to the attack.

In sum, the party had a great deal of frustration to pour into the repairs toward the villa. The villa’s repair and the replanting of the fields benefited greatly from the frustrated energy of the party. By the time the Drakontai servants made the trip from Ausaphaborishan’s Valley in Barghost back to the villa in Fingerdale, much of the fields had been replanted. With greater manpower, the remaining portion of the villa was able to be stripped away. The foundations were easily excavated and re-laid. Soon the ground floor took shape from the collected field stone.

On the fifteenth day from when the party experienced the death of Bloodseeker, the residents of the villa sat in a quiet circle around a small bonfire. The fire had served as a cooking fire several hours past, but now the main purpose of the fire was simply to take the chill off of the nighttime air. The sun had been down for several hours and many of the servants had begun to doze in the cool evening. They were all tired from a hard day of caring for the fields in the morning followed by moving vast quantities of timber in the afternoon. Tomorrow there were plans to plane the wood into planks suitable for constructing the ceiling of the first floor.

In the shadows along the edge of the wood, the figure of a woman stepped out from the trees and silently picked her way towards the bonfire. She smiled as she focused on the gathering. They wouldn’t be expecting her, and that would make her approach even easier. Her hands slipped down to check the status of the sword she carried upon her hip. The blade was securely fastened into its scabbard. Her hands then checked to make sure the daggers sheathed under each armpit were secured in their sheaths as well.

She had come armed to the teeth, although she knew that if she played her cards right she shouldn’t even need to draw a blade. Her task would be best accomplished without the use of a blade. Even still, the presence of the blades gave her a decent back-up plan in addition to potentially helping to secure a route for retreat.

She slowly crept closer to the bonfire. The woman watched the fading flames dance and knew that the dancing of the shadows could be a blessing or a curse. So long as the flames stayed low, their flickering would be minimized and the likelihood of the light around the fire remaining constant was great. If the flames were to rise they would be more likely to catch the wind and dance about. If the flames danced, she would have more difficulty discerning the presence of the shadows.

Fortunately, none of the residents of the villa felt energetic enough to add wood to the waning fire. Darkness crept closer to the gathering with each passing minute. After approaching slowly for nearly a half an hour, the woman was within feet of grabbing Rhema from behind. She brushed back a simple strand of red hair and smiled before speaking. “You all let anyone creep out of the woods at your back?”

In a flash, Ischarus had a small piece of lumber in his hand and positioned himself between Rhema and the voice. Charis joined his side. She was fortunate to have been carrying her pick. The pick had been used earlier with the wood and stone, so it remained by her side.

Rhema jumped up and turned around with a start, but not before Ischarus and Charis were able to move. Her eyes searched into the darkness. In spite of her search, the shadows cast by Ischarus and Charis made it impossible to see the red haired woman.

The intruder spoke again, “Do you always greet guests with weapons? I could have continued to creep closer to you all if I was intent upon injuring you.”

Ischarus lowered his guard slightly, although he did not relinquish his grip upon the wood. “I don’t think that it is particularly odd to see how we could feel the need to defend ourselves. After all, you certainly came this far without desiring to be detected.”

The woman laughed. “And here I thought you all liked to play games. Perhaps I was wrong in my earlier assessment.”

The rest of the residents of the villa wisely moved to the far side of the fire. Most of them were only marginally trained in the ways of combat. It would be better for them if they stayed out of the potential zone of danger and left the fighting to Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion had worked himself around the fire and to a position beside Rhema. “Perhaps if you would step out of the shadows we could feel more comfortable in letting our defenses down?”

The woman complied. She stepped several paces to Ischarus’ right before approaching the fire and stepping into the light. She wanted to avoid Ischarus’ immediate threat range as much as possible. Even though it was an unwieldy piece of wood, in his hands it could be a dangerous weapon. “Very well. I’ll step into the light.”

As the woman stepped close enough to the fire to reveal the contours of her face, all but Rhema had difficulty distinguishing the identity of the woman. However, Rhema immediately recognized her. “The woman from the Shrouded Tenor? What are you doing here?”

The woman smiled politely and extended her hands away from her sides with her palms up. Her hands were empty. “I was touched by your predicament. You’re seeking Bloodseeker, who apparently is now dead. From what my sources can tell me about you all, you are seeking Bloodseeker to find out who was behind the destruction that I now see for myself. Am I right so far?”

Rhema nodded. “Sure. But that fails to explain why you are here. It does explain that you know a fair amount about us, though. So tell us. Why are you here under the cover of darkness?”

The woman smiled. “I serve a mage. When I heard that you were seeking the Ephistaemi I took your plight to him. I thought that perhaps he could help.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Feb 27, 2007)

Semeion instantly felt a surge of doubt flow through his body.  “A mage, you say?”  His eyes narrowed and a scowl appeared over his face.  “Interestingly enough, a mage may well have been involved in making our job even more difficult.”

Charis smiled at her husband’s immediate conclusion.  “Not that there aren’t more than one mage in the world, of course.  For that matter, there’s more than one mage in Fingerdale.  You’ll have to excuse my husband.  He himself has a bit of magical prowess himself.”

The woman smiled and interrupted Charis’ speech.  “Well, I have learned from my master that there are few people in this world who are more critical of mages than other mages themselves.  Even those who detest magic are not as critical of those with the ability to cast spells as are mages when regarding another’s power.”

Ischarus smiled, knowing his own magical abilities remained largely hidden.  Yet he knew full well that the woman spoke the truth.  He had once been quite skeptical of magic.  In spite of his innate skepticism, being around Semeion and Rhema had taught him that his own distrust could not match the distrust of people who knew first hand what the power of magic could do.  Since his own powers had begun to slowly develop he found a new distrust for the magic of other people that was much more focused than the general distrust he had known before.  It was almost as if receiving a taste of the unusual power immediate taught the possessor just how easy the power could corrupt.

Rhema returned the conversation back to its original intent.  “Regardless of the  distrust of magic, you say that your master can help us?  Bloodseeker is dead.  Unless your master can speak to the dead, how can your master help us?”

The woman nodded knowingly.  “I suspected that you would have your fair share of doubts and questions.  It would only be expected, after all!  This was one question that I am prepared for.  My master believes that your thoughts are too limited.  The scope of your understanding is rather narrow.  You sought out Bloodseeker because you caught Darkbringer and Darkbringer led you in that direction.  That conclusion was certainly natural.  Yet when you met up with the difficulty of losing Bloodseeker your thoughts did not expand as they should have.”

Semeion continued to glare at the woman.  “Your master shows all the arrogance of a great wizard.  If he knows our thoughts and knows the situation so well, why has he done nothing to help us?  If he is following our cause so closely without doing anything to help, that is even more proof to doubt your words and intent.”

The woman allowed Semeion’s directed insults to pass through her completely.  The smile remained on her face and she turned slightly to look at Semeion.  “I can understand how your frustration would lead you to that conclusion.  However, the conclusion is wrong.  You see, my master has only been aware of your dilemma for a few days.  My master only knows of your dilemma from what I told him.  Personally, I only knew enough to research your cause once I discovered the hoax regarding Darkbringer upon your second return to the _Shrouded Tenor_.  I had to do my own investigation before realizing that my master might be able to help.  Surely you can understand that a mage as powerful as my master cannot be troubled with the trivial.  I only informed my master a few days ago once I had done enough research to know that it was worth his time.”

Semeion offered a brief rebuttal.  “And all of your research you did without involving us?  Don’t you think that your research would have been a bit more productive had you come to us in the first place?

The woman nodded, acknowledging the comment’s validity.  “Indeed.  If I had known then what I have come to know now, I would have started with you all.  However, your own deception taught me that you might have ulterior motivations.  Had you all been more forthcoming and less deceptive yourselves, I would have also been more trusting.  In spite of this, I can understand why it is that you were deceptive as well.  Dealing with the organization that you look for is not easy and not straightforward.  Deception is often necessary.”

Rhema spoke next, reassuring the woman.  “I don’t know about the others, but I can accept that explanation.  Of course, that is especially true if your master can help us in our quest to avenge what has happened here.  There can be little doubt that you see for yourself the destruction here and the effort necessary to overcome it.  But what do you mean by calling our efforts limited in scope?  In what way were we narrow?”

The woman replied with a flat tone.  “You caught Darkbringer and sought out Bloodseeker.  But when you lost the trail of Bloodseeker – largely in part to what I have come to understand to be Bloodseeker’s death in an alley in Fingerdale – you efforts died with it.  There is no doubt that there are more members of the Ephistaemi who know the reasons that this villa was destroyed.  You scope should have widened to catch any member of the Ephistaemi, not just Bloodseeker.”

Ischarus spoke for the first time.  “We understand that.  But have you ever tried to infiltrate an organization that officially doesn’t exist anywhere?  What is it that you think your master can do for us?”

The woman turned back to Ischarus.  “It is not what I think the master can do for you.  It is more what my master knows that he can do for you.  We know enough to realize now that you seek the Ephistaemi.  And as you have already asserted, securing an audience within the Ephistaemi is quite difficult.  However, it is not impossible, especially for someone as talented, connected, and powerful as my master.  What my master is offering is to put you in contact with the Ephistaemi so that you may receive your answers.”

Ischarus now frowned and spoke skeptically.  “Your master can put us in touch with the Ephistaemi?  I don’t know that I want to know how much that will cost us!”

Rhema concurred with her husband’s conclusion.  “Not only that, but I doubt that the Ephistaemi will readily reveal their sources.  From what our sources have told us, the Ephistaemi pride themselves on subversively accomplishing difficult tasks.  If it gets out that the Ephistaemi disclose who is providing funding for the work that is being done, they’ll stop having clients.  You can’t honestly believe that the Ephistaemi will share their secrets even if we could contact them!”

The woman smiled quite deviously and her eyes seemed to twinkle in enjoyment of a thought that passed through her mind.  “Then I suppose that is  where trust comes in.  Right now you have nothing but the knowledge that the Ephistaemi have the answers that you seek.  If you cannot find the Ephistaemi, you have nothing.  My master can at least put you in touch with the Ephistaemi.  That is more than you have now.”

Ischarus watched the woman intently as she spoke.  It was obvious that she was hiding something.  She wasn’t even trying to veil the fact that there was more at work in this situation than what was being disclosed.  However, he also knew that he had no useful leverage to use in an attempt to discover what the woman’s hidden agenda might contain.  “Very well.  What you say is true.  We currently have nothing and are no doubt at the end of our leads.  The Ephistaemi agents in the area have no doubt already been notified of our presence and likely will avoid us at most costs.  So what you offer is more than we could hope to gain on our own.   Tell us your master’s terms.  And while you’re at it, I don’t believe we know your name.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion instantly felt a surge of doubt flow through his body. “A mage, you say?” His eyes narrowed and a scowl appeared over his face. “Interestingly enough, a mage may well have been involved in making our job even more difficult.”

Charis smiled at her husband’s immediate conclusion. “Not that there aren’t more than one mage in the world, of course. For that matter, there’s more than one mage in Fingerdale. You’ll have to excuse my husband. He himself has a bit of magical prowess himself.”

The woman smiled and interrupted Charis’ speech. “Well, I have learned from my master that there are few people in this world who are more critical of mages than other mages themselves. Even those who detest magic are not as critical of those with the ability to cast spells as are mages when regarding another’s power.”

Ischarus smiled, knowing his own magical abilities remained largely hidden. Yet he knew full well that the woman spoke the truth. He had once been quite skeptical of magic. In spite of his innate skepticism, being around Semeion and Rhema had taught him that his own distrust could not match the distrust of people who knew first hand what the power of magic could do. Since his own powers had begun to slowly develop he found a new distrust for the magic of other people that was much more focused than the general distrust he had known before. It was almost as if receiving a taste of the unusual power immediate taught the possessor just how easy the power could corrupt.

Rhema returned the conversation back to its original intent. “Regardless of the distrust of magic, you say that your master can help us? Bloodseeker is dead. Unless your master can speak to the dead, how can your master help us?”

The woman nodded knowingly. “I suspected that you would have your fair share of doubts and questions. It would only be expected, after all! This was one question that I am prepared for. My master believes that your thoughts are too limited. The scope of your understanding is rather narrow. You sought out Bloodseeker because you caught Darkbringer and Darkbringer led you in that direction. That conclusion was certainly natural. Yet when you met up with the difficulty of losing Bloodseeker your thoughts did not expand as they should have.”

Semeion continued to glare at the woman. “Your master shows all the arrogance of a great wizard. If he knows our thoughts and knows the situation so well, why has he done nothing to help us? If he is following our cause so closely without doing anything to help, that is even more proof to doubt your words and intent.”

The woman allowed Semeion’s directed insults to pass through her completely. The smile remained on her face and she turned slightly to look at Semeion. “I can understand how your frustration would lead you to that conclusion. However, the conclusion is wrong. You see, my master has only been aware of your dilemma for a few days. My master only knows of your dilemma from what I told him. Personally, I only knew enough to research your cause once I discovered the hoax regarding Darkbringer upon your second return to the Shrouded Tenor. I had to do my own investigation before realizing that my master might be able to help. Surely you can understand that a mage as powerful as my master cannot be troubled with the trivial. I only informed my master a few days ago once I had done enough research to know that it was worth his time.”

Semeion offered a brief rebuttal. “And all of your research you did without involving us? Don’t you think that your research would have been a bit more productive had you come to us in the first place?

The woman nodded, acknowledging the comment’s validity. “Indeed. If I had known then what I have come to know now, I would have started with you all. However, your own deception taught me that you might have ulterior motivations. Had you all been more forthcoming and less deceptive yourselves, I would have also been more trusting. In spite of this, I can understand why it is that you were deceptive as well. Dealing with the organization that you look for is not easy and not straightforward. Deception is often necessary.”

Rhema spoke next, reassuring the woman. “I don’t know about the others, but I can accept that explanation. Of course, that is especially true if your master can help us in our quest to avenge what has happened here. There can be little doubt that you see for yourself the destruction here and the effort necessary to overcome it. But what do you mean by calling our efforts limited in scope? In what way were we narrow?”

The woman replied with a flat tone. “You caught Darkbringer and sought out Bloodseeker. But when you lost the trail of Bloodseeker – largely in part to what I have come to understand to be Bloodseeker’s death in an alley in Fingerdale – you efforts died with it. There is no doubt that there are more members of the Ephistaemi who know the reasons that this villa was destroyed. You scope should have widened to catch any member of the Ephistaemi, not just Bloodseeker.”

Ischarus spoke for the first time. “We understand that. But have you ever tried to infiltrate an organization that officially doesn’t exist anywhere? What is it that you think your master can do for us?”

The woman turned back to Ischarus. “It is not what I think the master can do for you. It is more what my master knows that he can do for you. We know enough to realize now that you seek the Ephistaemi. And as you have already asserted, securing an audience within the Ephistaemi is quite difficult. However, it is not impossible, especially for someone as talented, connected, and powerful as my master. What my master is offering is to put you in contact with the Ephistaemi so that you may receive your answers.”

Ischarus now frowned and spoke skeptically. “Your master can put us in touch with the Ephistaemi? I don’t know that I want to know how much that will cost us!”

Rhema concurred with her husband’s conclusion. “Not only that, but I doubt that the Ephistaemi will readily reveal their sources. From what our sources have told us, the Ephistaemi pride themselves on subversively accomplishing difficult tasks. If it gets out that the Ephistaemi disclose who is providing funding for the work that is being done, they’ll stop having clients. You can’t honestly believe that the Ephistaemi will share their secrets even if we could contact them!”

The woman smiled quite deviously and her eyes seemed to twinkle in enjoyment of a thought that passed through her mind. “Then I suppose that is where trust comes in. Right now you have nothing but the knowledge that the Ephistaemi have the answers that you seek. If you cannot find the Ephistaemi, you have nothing. My master can at least put you in touch with the Ephistaemi. That is more than you have now.”

Ischarus watched the woman intently as she spoke. It was obvious that she was hiding something. She wasn’t even trying to veil the fact that there was more at work in this situation than what was being disclosed. However, he also knew that he had no useful leverage to use in an attempt to discover what the woman’s hidden agenda might contain. “Very well. What you say is true. We currently have nothing and are no doubt at the end of our leads. The Ephistaemi agents in the area have no doubt already been notified of our presence and likely will avoid us at most costs. So what you offer is more than we could hope to gain on our own. Tell us your master’s terms. And while you’re at it, I don’t believe we know your name.” 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 3, 2007)

The woman paused for a moment.  Her eyes and her lips twitched as though she were deep in thought.  “Opheiluka del Zhatul.” She paused for a moment before explaining the response.  “I figured that I would answer the easy one first.  Most people just call me Ophee for short, though.”

Charis smiled at Ophee and replied, “Well, Ophee, now that we know your name, can you tell us what we would need to accomplish for your master in order for him to arrange for us to meet with a knowledgeable representative of the Ephistaemi?”

Ophee returned Charis’ smile.  She was well aware that Charis had been the most agreeable of the four up to this point.  Charis didn’t seem to care to hold on to the inherent skepticism that burdened the other three.  “Unfortuantely, I do not know his exact terms.  Knowing my master, however, it’ll likely involve some sort of quest.”

Ischarus allowed a soft snort to pass through his nose in response to the woman’s explanation.  “A quest?  Is that all the more original your master can be?  What great artifact does your master desire?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ cynicism.  “And how many idiots has he sent after it already who have never returned?”

The cynical comments allowed Ophee to laugh in an attempt to break the tension.  She knew that she would need to earn the trust of the other three.  “No, my master does not work in terms of artifacts and power.  My master deals in herbs and potions.  The mage that I serve is primarily interested in sending out teams to retrieve plant and animal specimens.  I assure you, most of the tasks are really quite mundane.”

Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows as the thought of picking leaves and flowers passed through her mind.  “An herbalist?  You serve an herbalist?”

Semeion spoke harshly in response.  “Careful, Rhema.  My own master dabbled in herbs and potions and there was much more to his magic than love potions.  Master Sathwright’s magic was quite potent, but most people knew him only as a simpleton brewer.”

Ophee nodded in response.  “Of course.  Wizards who can only make potions and pick leaves can’t even begin to make a living for themselves.  They have to have multiple experiences and multiple trades as an outlet for their magical powers.  I wouldn’t have you believe that the mage I serve is some simpleton potion maker.  But I would have you believe that the quests he uses for bartering are usually quite simple quests for the retrieval of plants and animal specimens.  His magic is potent, but nothing you should fear.”

Ischarus’ face exposed that he was still not convinced.  “If your master’s magic is so potent, why on earth does he need to send away recovery teams like us?  Why can’t he simply retrieve what he wants on his own?”

Semeion smiled in response to Ischarus’ question, but Ophee beat him to the explanation.  “My master’s time is very precious.  A great deal of the magical study that he is performing cannot simply be interrupted every time he finds a need or part of his supply runs low.  To venture out on a quest every time he needs something would make it impossible to maintain the level of concentration that he needs for his work and his research into the arcane arts.  He is better off sending collection teams into the world and paying them directly or bartering for services as he is offering with you all.  It is likely that you all can afford the time for a quest much more than he can.”

Semeion added more to Ophee’s response than what she probably cared to admit about her master.  “Not only that, Ischarus, but if Opheiluka’s master is a true mage, he has likely had to ignore a good bit of his physical body in exchange for his magical arts.  You see how frail I can be at times.  If the wizard in question is much more advanced than I am, his body may be even more susceptible to problems in the world.  The more he neglects the path of adventure, the more he will lose touch with how weak he has become in relation to everyone else.”

Ischarus and Ophee both nodded in agreement with Semeion.  Ophee nodded in admission to the truth.  Ischarus nodded out of his desire to trust Semeion’s explanation more than Ophee’s explanation.  Ischarus summarized just to make sure that he understood.  “So, what you are telling me is that Ophee’s master may have devoted himself to his research so intently that adventuring is not really feasible anymore?”

Ophee replied to Ischarus in a serious tone.  “Yes, that is exactly what your own mage is telling you.  And while you certainly didn’t hear it from me, I can confirm the truth in your mage’s comments and concerns.  My master is no longer interested in adventure.  He is interested in the adventures of other people and how they can enhance his magic.”

Charis was tired of being out of the conversation, so she decided to take the conversation back to its original intent.  “So, what kind of quest is normal?  Picking clover out of a field?”  Her tone was hopeful, although there was a hint in her voice that she knew the truth was not so simple.

Ophee laughed again.  “Well, sometimes those kinds of quests fall upon myself and the rest of the staff under his employ.  However, the majority of the quests that he barters out to a group such as yourselves are a bit more involved.  Of course, you must understand that ultimately my master is most concerned with the return of the specimen that he desires.  He has become quite adept at ascertaining the skill level of the questing party and matching them up with an appropriate task.  After all, if he sends a party onto a quest that they are not skilled enough to accomplish, then all is lost and his purpose is not furthered.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  She was beginning to soften and become swayed by Ophee’s logic.  “That makes sense.  Of course, that assumes that we can trust your master’s motivations and the fact that the need is true.  If we can be guaranteed that the need for the quest is legitimate, it follows that your master would not desire to see us perish.”

Charis added her own opinion in support of Rhema’s conclusion.  “Of course!  And what reason would this mage want to see us perish?  If this wizard is truly strong in his magic, I doubt that any of us could have stood against a direct attack.  If the wizard wanted us dead, there are more direct methods than sending us on some impossible quest.”

Ischarus frowned again.  “True, but those methods would be more traceable.  If we die on a quest, it is simply an accident.  If he uses magic to do away with us, it is murder.”

Semeion chuckled.  “Well, we have an interesting conundrum, then.  Do we trust a mage who sends in his servant at our time of greatest need with the biggest cliché in the book?  Or do we turn down the offer and realize that we may never find out the answer as to why the villa was destroyed?”

Iasho spoke.  He had been quiet and standing in the background for the entire conversation.  However, he knew that he had a large stake in the matter.  “If you quest for another, it is unlikely that you can also quest for the villa.  You might lose a season chasing after an answer that may continue to elude us.”  His tone was serious and a quiet fell over the group for several seconds.

Semeion inhaled deeply through his nose after contemplating Iasho’s words for several seconds.  “That may be true.  And it is certainly wise counsel, Iasho.  However, if we do not find the reason for the villa’s destruction we may simply be involving ourselves in the construction of another target.  If we do not stop every once and a while and weed out the enemies of the villa, we may continue to lose buildings, people, and resources.  How many of these episodes can we endure before the operation of the villa grinds to a halt?”

Ischarus once more nodded in agreement.  “He is right, Iasho.  Wisdom tells us to distrust the one who comes with the ideal solution to save the day when we are in the bleakest hour.  But logic tells us that to blindly continue forward and ignore the Ephistaemi will only invite more trouble.  I hate going against wisdom, but for the sake of the lives of the people at the villa I fear we must side with logic.”

Rhema was swayed by Ischarus’ words, although she was already well on her way to accepting Ophee’s proposal anyway.  “I agree.  The thought of losing a single season is not desirable.  The thought of losing this season every year is even less desirable.  We should explore this option.”

Charis drove the final nail into the coffin that housed Iasho’s argument.  “Besides, is there any danger in simply listening to the mage’s offer?  How can we refuse something when we honestly don’t know how difficult the quest may be?”

Iasho pursed his lips and inhaled.  “Then it sounds as though you have made your decision.  Go with Ophee and seek out this mage.  And go with my blessing.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The woman paused for a moment. Her eyes and her lips twitched as though she were deep in thought. “Opheiluka del Zhatul.” She paused for a moment before explaining the response. “I figured that I would answer the easy one first. Most people just call me Ophee for short, though.”

Charis smiled at Ophee and replied, “Well, Ophee, now that we know your name, can you tell us what we would need to accomplish for your master in order for him to arrange for us to meet with a knowledgeable representative of the Ephistaemi?”

Ophee returned Charis’ smile. She was well aware that Charis had been the most agreeable of the four up to this point. Charis didn’t seem to care to hold on to the inherent skepticism that burdened the other three. “Unfortuantely, I do not know his exact terms. Knowing my master, however, it’ll likely involve some sort of quest.”

Ischarus allowed a soft snort to pass through his nose in response to the woman’s explanation. “A quest? Is that all the more original your master can be? What great artifact does your master desire?”

Semeion smiled at Ischarus’ cynicism. “And how many idiots has he sent after it already who have never returned?”

The cynical comments allowed Ophee to laugh in an attempt to break the tension. She knew that she would need to earn the trust of the other three. “No, my master does not work in terms of artifacts and power. My master deals in herbs and potions. The mage that I serve is primarily interested in sending out teams to retrieve plant and animal specimens. I assure you, most of the tasks are really quite mundane.”

Rhema wrinkled her eyebrows as the thought of picking leaves and flowers passed through her mind. “An herbalist? You serve an herbalist?”

Semeion spoke harshly in response. “Careful, Rhema. My own master dabbled in herbs and potions and there was much more to his magic than love potions. Master Sathwright’s magic was quite potent, but most people knew him only as a simpleton brewer.”

Ophee nodded in response. “Of course. Wizards who can only make potions and pick leaves can’t even begin to make a living for themselves. They have to have multiple experiences and multiple trades as an outlet for their magical powers. I wouldn’t have you believe that the mage I serve is some simpleton potion maker. But I would have you believe that the quests he uses for bartering are usually quite simple quests for the retrieval of plants and animal specimens. His magic is potent, but nothing you should fear.”

Ischarus’ face exposed that he was still not convinced. “If your master’s magic is so potent, why on earth does he need to send away recovery teams like us? Why can’t he simply retrieve what he wants on his own?”

Semeion smiled in response to Ischarus’ question, but Ophee beat him to the explanation. “My master’s time is very precious. A great deal of the magical study that he is performing cannot simply be interrupted every time he finds a need or part of his supply runs low. To venture out on a quest every time he needs something would make it impossible to maintain the level of concentration that he needs for his work and his research into the arcane arts. He is better off sending collection teams into the world and paying them directly or bartering for services as he is offering with you all. It is likely that you all can afford the time for a quest much more than he can.”

Semeion added more to Ophee’s response than what she probably cared to admit about her master. “Not only that, Ischarus, but if Opheiluka’s master is a true mage, he has likely had to ignore a good bit of his physical body in exchange for his magical arts. You see how frail I can be at times. If the wizard in question is much more advanced than I am, his body may be even more susceptible to problems in the world. The more he neglects the path of adventure, the more he will lose touch with how weak he has become in relation to everyone else.”

Ischarus and Ophee both nodded in agreement with Semeion. Ophee nodded in admission to the truth. Ischarus nodded out of his desire to trust Semeion’s explanation more than Ophee’s explanation. Ischarus summarized just to make sure that he understood. “So, what you are telling me is that Ophee’s master may have devoted himself to his research so intently that adventuring is not really feasible anymore?”

Ophee replied to Ischarus in a serious tone. “Yes, that is exactly what your own mage is telling you. And while you certainly didn’t hear it from me, I can confirm the truth in your mage’s comments and concerns. My master is no longer interested in adventure. He is interested in the adventures of other people and how they can enhance his magic.”

Charis was tired of being out of the conversation, so she decided to take the conversation back to its original intent. “So, what kind of quest is normal? Picking clover out of a field?” Her tone was hopeful, although there was a hint in her voice that she knew the truth was not so simple.

Ophee laughed again. “Well, sometimes those kinds of quests fall upon myself and the rest of the staff under his employ. However, the majority of the quests that he barters out to a group such as yourselves are a bit more involved. Of course, you must understand that ultimately my master is most concerned with the return of the specimen that he desires. He has become quite adept at ascertaining the skill level of the questing party and matching them up with an appropriate task. After all, if he sends a party onto a quest that they are not skilled enough to accomplish, then all is lost and his purpose is not furthered.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. She was beginning to soften and become swayed by Ophee’s logic. “That makes sense. Of course, that assumes that we can trust your master’s motivations and the fact that the need is true. If we can be guaranteed that the need for the quest is legitimate, it follows that your master would not desire to see us perish.”

Charis added her own opinion in support of Rhema’s conclusion. “Of course! And what reason would this mage want to see us perish? If this wizard is truly strong in his magic, I doubt that any of us could have stood against a direct attack. If the wizard wanted us dead, there are more direct methods than sending us on some impossible quest.”

Ischarus frowned again. “True, but those methods would be more traceable. If we die on a quest, it is simply an accident. If he uses magic to do away with us, it is murder.”

Semeion chuckled. “Well, we have an interesting conundrum, then. Do we trust a mage who sends in his servant at our time of greatest need with the biggest cliché in the book? Or do we turn down the offer and realize that we may never find out the answer as to why the villa was destroyed?”

Iasho spoke. He had been quiet and standing in the background for the entire conversation. However, he knew that he had a large stake in the matter. “If you quest for another, it is unlikely that you can also quest for the villa. You might lose a season chasing after an answer that may continue to elude us.” His tone was serious and a quiet fell over the group for several seconds.

Semeion inhaled deeply through his nose after contemplating Iasho’s words for several seconds. “That may be true. And it is certainly wise counsel, Iasho. However, if we do not find the reason for the villa’s destruction we may simply be involving ourselves in the construction of another target. If we do not stop every once and a while and weed out the enemies of the villa, we may continue to lose buildings, people, and resources. How many of these episodes can we endure before the operation of the villa grinds to a halt?”

Ischarus once more nodded in agreement. “He is right, Iasho. Wisdom tells us to distrust the one who comes with the ideal solution to save the day when we are in the bleakest hour. But logic tells us that to blindly continue forward and ignore the Ephistaemi will only invite more trouble. I hate going against wisdom, but for the sake of the lives of the people at the villa I fear we must side with logic.”

Rhema was swayed by Ischarus’ words, although she was already well on her way to accepting Ophee’s proposal anyway. “I agree. The thought of losing a single season is not desirable. The thought of losing this season every year is even less desirable. We should explore this option.”

Charis drove the final nail into the coffin that housed Iasho’s argument. “Besides, is there any danger in simply listening to the mage’s offer? How can we refuse something when we honestly don’t know how difficult the quest may be?”

Iasho pursed his lips and inhaled. “Then it sounds as though you have made your decision. Go with Ophee and seek out this mage. And go with my blessing.” 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 5, 2007)

Ophee nodded.  “If you all are interested, then we’ll need to head to Eberdeen.  Of course, my master would be happy to pay for lodging and meals along the way.  You will be considered my guests while coming to Eberdeen.”

Rhema immediately looked concerned.  “Eberdeen?  But that’s over a week’s ride on horseback!  We can’t very well be gone two weeks from the villa in its current state!  I assumed your master lived in Fingerdale where we found you.”

Iasho placed his hand upon his daughter’s shoulders while Ischarus spoke.  “We can be gone that long, Rhema.  Your father and his servants have things under control here.  They’ll be fine, and the construction will continue to progress.  We’d be heading off soon anyway, you know.”

Rhema passed a look of pleading disagreement to her husband, but her father’s words counteracted any emotion that her look might have awakened inside Ischarus.  “You have already agreed to go, my dear.  We will survive here.  If you are to find your answers, you must begin while the information can be found.  If you wait until the villa is built and safe, your answers may well have vanished and you will have also lost the season to journey.”

The party was keenly aware that there was no mention of Quehalost, although the topic was being discussed throughout the entire conversation.  It was a longstanding rule that the name of Quehalost would not be discussed when there were people present who were not intimately involved with the work of the villa.  Given what had already taken place with regard to the destruction of the villa, it was even more important that secrets were protected to minimize the possibilities of those who could have known about the work of the villa.

Rhema sighed as her father spoke.  “But you’ll be here alone.”

Iasho grinned broadly in response.  “And defenseless?”

Ischarus and Semeion both smirked at Iasho’s implications.  Rhema lowered her eyes from her father’s face to the ground as she spoke.  “Well, yeah.  We won’t be here to protect you.”

Iasho couldn’t help but laugh in the manner of a parent who was amused by the unnecessary maturity of their child.  “You need not be my protector, Rhema.  Perhaps you forget who taught you the family trade?  Perhaps you forget whose friend it was that began your own instruction in the arts of the mind?  I am no decrepit old man, at least not yet.”

Rhema brought her face up to look upon her father’s face once more, but he lifted up a finger to keep her quiet.  “I know you love me and want me to live long enough to be an old man who sits on his porch telling tales of the adventures of his youth to his grandchildren.  I desire that as well.  But the time for that is not yet here.  It will come one day.  Go and do the task ahead of you.”

That was really all that needed to be said.  In spite of Iasho’s earlier warning that to go with Opheiluka would mean potentially staying out of Quehalost for the season, he ultimately was in support of whatever the party had decided.  Rhema’s love had been noted, but it could not be allowed to prevent their journey.  A few supplies were quickly gathered and the horses were prepared.  Within an hour the party found themselves saying their goodbyes and heading down the road in the direction of Fingerdale.

Their journey would lead them past Fingerdale and west.  They would head to Partuss and continue even further west.  Halfway between Partuss and Bacrothen a branch of the road would turn south and head towards Eberdeen.  Rhema had been right that the journey would take over a week.

They were familiar enough with the road, however.  In order to get from Fingerdale to Reignsburg and south into Quehalost the party had to choose either this path or another.  The roads leading into Eberdeen were the most secure and the party usually journeyed along these roads when they were headed into Quehalost to ensure that their journey would not be delayed.  On the return trips, the party often traveled east through Juniper before turning north toward Fingerdale.  In either case, the roads that Ophee had hinted at traveling were well known and would not be difficult to travel.

The trip from Huetown to Fingerdale passed by easily.  Over the course of the travel Ophee explained that although her master lived in Eberdeen, she was placed in charge of gathering information in Fingerdale and the surrounding areas.  Her master had scouts in all of the major cities of Tongra in addition to the capitols of Barghost and Fenneress.  Although he was successful in the herbalist business, he was also what Ophee called an information broker.  Her master thrived on discovering methods for finding out useful information.  Often this talent was what made him his most significant sums of money.  Ophee explained that it was also this talent that gave him the confidence that he could find someone who could tell the party why the villa had been destroyed.

The party stayed for a night in Fingerdale before restocking their traveling supplies.  The next several days of traveling passed by uneventfully as they journeyed from Fingerdale through Partuss.  They were fortunate to be a party of significant size in addition to being well armed.  Most highwaymen would have good cause to let the party travel through the areas of their influence without harassment.  The merchant caravans also traveling along the road would provide easier and more lucrative targets as far as income would be concerned.

Once the party passed through Partuss they found the road that turned away from Bacrothen and turned towards Eberdeen.  Ophee explained that the woods north of Bacrothen were plagued by odd types of denizens, but she also knew that their size and force would keep them at bay.  Each night they were careful to post two watches as sentries, although this meant that each member of the party received about two hours of sleep less than ideal.  Given that the alternative to the reduced sleep might be waking up to the dangerous side of an axe blade, the extra duty for watch was readily accepted.

Nine days in total passed by as the party made good progress from Fingerdale to Eberdeen.  Around noon on the ninth day the party crested a hill and saw the welcome spires of the capitol’s wizardry college.  After another half an hour of traveling the thick walls of the protective keeps and various guard posts could be seen as well.  

Unlike Fingerdale, Eberdeen was not contained by a protective wall.  Since Eberdeen was centrally located within Tongra, there was little that could reach Eberdeen without advance notification.  Eberdeen had once had a wall, but the city had grown tremendously under the leadership of King Rupert’s lineage.  The kings who had come before the current Rupert king had emphasized trade with Barghost and Fenneress instead of military dominance.  The land still maintained an army, by it was largely a defensive construction rather than an offensive army geared for occupation.  The smaller army implied that more resources could be applied to business, economics, and trade with their neighbors.

The effect of the leadership from the Rupert family line was to make Tongra much more political, diplomatic, and economically concerned.  Cities and towns prospered under their rule and Eberdeen was no exception.  The capitol quickly outgrew its walls and the city advisors knew that there was no sense building new walls until the city had reached its maximum capacity.  

By the time the land stabilized, the city of Eberdeen was simply too large to quarter off behind walls.  Instead, guard posts were established in areas that would grant them the greatest visibility.  Four keeps were built to house the city guards and what remained of the king’s standing army.  As the party approached from the north, they could easily make out the thick protective walls of the north and east keeps.  They were massive structures; and they had been designed to be able to section off the entire population and house them safely in the individual keeps in time of immediate danger.

Between the party and each of the keeps were several guard posts and checkpoints.  It was from the northernmost of these checkpoints that the party realized that they would be officially welcomed into Eberdeen.  A section of the cavalry rode out from the nearest checkpoint and looked as though they were quite intent on intercepting and interrogating the party.

Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them.  “The guards must be set to active searching today.  They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen.  It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions.  But don’t worry.  Let me talk to the guards.  The business of my master is well known to the guards.  They will allow us passage without much trouble.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ophee nodded. “If you all are interested, then we’ll need to head to Eberdeen. Of course, my master would be happy to pay for lodging and meals along the way. You will be considered my guests while coming to Eberdeen.”

Rhema immediately looked concerned. “Eberdeen? But that’s over a week’s ride on horseback! We can’t very well be gone two weeks from the villa in its current state! I assumed your master lived in Fingerdale where we found you.”

Iasho placed his hand upon his daughter’s shoulders while Ischarus spoke. “We can be gone that long, Rhema. Your father and his servants have things under control here. They’ll be fine, and the construction will continue to progress. We’d be heading off soon anyway, you know.”

Rhema passed a look of pleading disagreement to her husband, but her father’s words counteracted any emotion that her look might have awakened inside Ischarus. “You have already agreed to go, my dear. We will survive here. If you are to find your answers, you must begin while the information can be found. If you wait until the villa is built and safe, your answers may well have vanished and you will have also lost the season to journey.”

The party was keenly aware that there was no mention of Quehalost, although the topic was being discussed throughout the entire conversation. It was a longstanding rule that the name of Quehalost would not be discussed when there were people present who were not intimately involved with the work of the villa. Given what had already taken place with regard to the destruction of the villa, it was even more important that secrets were protected to minimize the possibilities of those who could have known about the work of the villa.

Rhema sighed as her father spoke. “But you’ll be here alone.”

Iasho grinned broadly in response. “And defenseless?”

Ischarus and Semeion both smirked at Iasho’s implications. Rhema lowered her eyes from her father’s face to the ground as she spoke. “Well, yeah. We won’t be here to protect you.”

Iasho couldn’t help but laugh in the manner of a parent who was amused by the unnecessary maturity of their child. “You need not be my protector, Rhema. Perhaps you forget who taught you the family trade? Perhaps you forget whose friend it was that began your own instruction in the arts of the mind? I am no decrepit old man, at least not yet.”

Rhema brought her face up to look upon her father’s face once more, but he lifted up a finger to keep her quiet. “I know you love me and want me to live long enough to be an old man who sits on his porch telling tales of the adventures of his youth to his grandchildren. I desire that as well. But the time for that is not yet here. It will come one day. Go and do the task ahead of you.”

That was really all that needed to be said. In spite of Iasho’s earlier warning that to go with Opheiluka would mean potentially staying out of Quehalost for the season, he ultimately was in support of whatever the party had decided. Rhema’s love had been noted, but it could not be allowed to prevent their journey. A few supplies were quickly gathered and the horses were prepared. Within an hour the party found themselves saying their goodbyes and heading down the road in the direction of Fingerdale.

Their journey would lead them past Fingerdale and west. They would head to Partuss and continue even further west. Halfway between Partuss and Bacrothen a branch of the road would turn south and head towards Eberdeen. Rhema had been right that the journey would take over a week.

They were familiar enough with the road, however. In order to get from Fingerdale to Reignsburg and south into Quehalost the party had to choose either this path or another. The roads leading into Eberdeen were the most secure and the party usually journeyed along these roads when they were headed into Quehalost to ensure that their journey would not be delayed. On the return trips, the party often traveled east through Juniper before turning north toward Fingerdale. In either case, the roads that Ophee had hinted at traveling were well known and would not be difficult to travel.

The trip from Huetown to Fingerdale passed by easily. Over the course of the travel Ophee explained that although her master lived in Eberdeen, she was placed in charge of gathering information in Fingerdale and the surrounding areas. Her master had scouts in all of the major cities of Tongra in addition to the capitols of Barghost and Fenneress. Although he was successful in the herbalist business, he was also what Ophee called an information broker. Her master thrived on discovering methods for finding out useful information. Often this talent was what made him his most significant sums of money. Ophee explained that it was also this talent that gave him the confidence that he could find someone who could tell the party why the villa had been destroyed.

The party stayed for a night in Fingerdale before restocking their traveling supplies. The next several days of traveling passed by uneventfully as they journeyed from Fingerdale through Partuss. They were fortunate to be a party of significant size in addition to being well armed. Most highwaymen would have good cause to let the party travel through the areas of their influence without harassment. The merchant caravans also traveling along the road would provide easier and more lucrative targets as far as income would be concerned.

Once the party passed through Partuss they found the road that turned away from Bacrothen and turned towards Eberdeen. Ophee explained that the woods north of Bacrothen were plagued by odd types of denizens, but she also knew that their size and force would keep them at bay. Each night they were careful to post two watches as sentries, although this meant that each member of the party received about two hours of sleep less than ideal. Given that the alternative to the reduced sleep might be waking up to the dangerous side of an axe blade, the extra duty for watch was readily accepted.

Nine days in total passed by as the party made good progress from Fingerdale to Eberdeen. Around noon on the ninth day the party crested a hill and saw the welcome spires of the capitol’s wizardry college. After another half an hour of traveling the thick walls of the protective keeps and various guard posts could be seen as well. 

Unlike Fingerdale, Eberdeen was not contained by a protective wall. Since Eberdeen was centrally located within Tongra, there was little that could reach Eberdeen without advance notification. Eberdeen had once had a wall, but the city had grown tremendously under the leadership of King Rupert’s lineage. The kings who had come before the current Rupert king had emphasized trade with Barghost and Fenneress instead of military dominance. The land still maintained an army, by it was largely a defensive construction rather than an offensive army geared for occupation. The smaller army implied that more resources could be applied to business, economics, and trade with their neighbors.

The effect of the leadership from the Rupert family line was to make Tongra much more political, diplomatic, and economically concerned. Cities and towns prospered under their rule and Eberdeen was no exception. The capitol quickly outgrew its walls and the city advisors knew that there was no sense building new walls until the city had reached its maximum capacity. 

By the time the land stabilized, the city of Eberdeen was simply too large to quarter off behind walls. Instead, guard posts were established in areas that would grant them the greatest visibility. Four keeps were built to house the city guards and what remained of the king’s standing army. As the party approached from the north, they could easily make out the thick protective walls of the north and east keeps. They were massive structures; and they had been designed to be able to section off the entire population and house them safely in the individual keeps in time of immediate danger.

Between the party and each of the keeps were several guard posts and checkpoints. It was from the northernmost of these checkpoints that the party realized that they would be officially welcomed into Eberdeen. A section of the cavalry rode out from the nearest checkpoint and looked as though they were quite intent on intercepting and interrogating the party.

Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them. “The guards must be set to active searching today. They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen. It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions. But don’t worry. Let me talk to the guards. The business of my master is well known to the guards. They will allow us passage without much trouble.”
[/Sblock]


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## Mahtave (Mar 5, 2007)

_Ophee smiled and turned in her saddle so that she could look each of the party members in the eye and relax them. “The guards must be set to active searching today. They perform passive observation most days, but a few random days each month they are set to perform searches of anyone trying to enter Eberdeen. It helps to control smuggling and other various criminal actions. But don’t worry. Let me talk to the guards. The business of my master is well known to the guards. They will allow us passage without much trouble.”_

Heh - famous last words that....


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 5, 2007)

*Reply To Reader ... Not An Update*

Thanks for the response!



			
				Mahtave said:
			
		

> Heh - famous last words that....




First off, glad you are still reading!   I hope the story has pulled you in, although this one is more different in tone and less straightforward an adventure than the last.

Second, I'll add a bit of perspective on Opheiluka as a character that I wasn't planning on including in the story - since there was some interest in this area.  There are several things that are true about Ophee.  First, she is insanely loyal to the wizard that she serves.  For now, I'll leave it at that because her loyalty (in addition to the motivations behind it as cause and the results of that loyalty) will spin out later in the story.  However, in addition to her loyalty, she is also extremely confident in her ability to handle certain situations.  Whether her confidence is justified or not has yet to be seen.  But self-confidence is not one of Ophee's problems.  

As for her name ... if you know what the koine greek verb Opheilo _[That would be Omicron - Phi - Epsilon - Iota - Lambda - Omega]_ means you will have an advantage.  For readers who might know the verb - or who might be able to find out what it means - please don't post it here.  [Koine Greek is the Greek dialect evolving out of the armies of Alexander the Great]

As for the city guard ... well ... I'll make you all wait until the next installment before giving out details on what's to come!


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 7, 2007)

Ophee motioned for the others to stay behind her.  “I am going to use a bit of magic, and I do not want you all to come under its effect.  Please stay behind me and do not interfere.”  Her commanding tone left little room for arguments.

Rhema immediately shot Ischarus a concerned look.  In spite of the commanding tone, Charis was the first to speak.  “Magic?  If you need to use magic to get past the guards, perhaps we shouldn’t be here.”

Semeion slowly shook his head in disapproval.  “No choice, Charis.  If we turn around and leave now, we only implicate ourselves as being guilty of something.”

The whole of the party’s conversation was lost on Ophee.  In truth, she wasn’t even paying attention to her riding companions any longer.  Her mind focused in on the small number of horsemen coming toward her and she smiled.  The horsemen couldn’t see it, but both of her hands began to slowly gesture as they loosely held the reigns of her horse.  “Thizzle Umaam.”  The words glided out of her mouth without her lips moving any more than would be necessary to breathe.  The end result was that her voice slithered like that of a hiss from a serpent.

The second spell that she cast was done even less noticeably.  Had the party been able to detect what was happening, they would have seen just how rehearsed the move actually was.  She released the reigns of her horse and used her knees to grip the strong beast underneath her.  Now that her hands were free, she brought her fingers up to her head and allowed them to run through the hair above her ears until they met in the back of her head.  She offered up a slight chant, which lasted no more than five seconds and transferred from the root note to its third and fifth before returning to the home pitch. “Parzuhs.”

The net effect of the spell was to slightly change the appearance of Ophee’s face and the clothing under her riding cloak.  The changes to her face were so subtle that they were impossible to observe from where the party sat upon their mounts behind her.  Slight streaks of graying hair appeared at the top of her forehead, but the blending was so natural that by the time the streaks reached the back of her head the change was invisible to the party.  The clothing under her riding cloak changed so that when the wind ruffled the cloak open just enough to observe the cloth underneath it was possible to detect that her clothing matched that of the guard of Eberdeen.

The horsemen were still a minute of riding away from Ophee when she spoke to the party.  She remained facing the coming horsemen and trusted that her voice would carry enough for the party to hear.  “The spell that I just cast will allow me to pick up on their initial impressions and intentions toward us.  I will not be able to read their minds, but I will know if they are suspicious of something in particular or if they are merely doing what they get paid to do.  It will give me an edge in dealing with them.” 

There was no reply from the four riders behind her.  They could do nothing at this point except trust that Ophee knew what she was doing.  Deceiving the royal guard of Eberdeen was not their style, but they did not fully understand the work the Ophee performed for her master.  It was important that they followed with Ophee’s plan as much as possible until they could determine if Ophee’s master could help them or not.  They certainly couldn’t flee, and they dared not interrupt Ophee’s plan without knowing precisely what was going on.

Ophee made no mention of the second spell that had been cast.  She returned her left hand to the reigns of her horse and relaxed her knees.  With her right hand, she unclasped the topmost hook that kept her cloak near to her body.  The cloak fluttered in the breeze more than before, but not enough to allow any of the party behind her to see the uniform of the city guard underneath it.  Ophee did not speak again until the riders completed their approach.

The commander of the small group of city guard rode to within ten feet of Ophee’s position.  When the wind caught Ophee’s cloak and blew it open enough for the commander to see the uniform underneath, the guard reacted in surprise.  The rider lifted the front face of the helm that was protecting the rider’s face.  When the plate was removed, Ophee was surprised to see that the commander of the group was indeed a woman.  Furthermore, the shape of the woman’s eyes revealed that she had some amount of elven lineage within her.  

The commander spoke first, initiating the conversation.  “Pardon me, madam.  We did not recognize you from our outpost.” 

The commander’s voice betrayed her surprise enough that the party didn’t need the benefit of Ophee’s spell to know that something about Ophee had caught the commander off guard.  They passed unknowing looks between each other in search of any explanation for why that the commander had been caught off guard.  None of the four had any idea why the guard had initiated the conversation with such a strange proclamation.

Ophee bowed slightly in her saddle as the rest of the group of guards settled into position behind their commander.  “There is no offense taken.  I assume that your patrol is performing the duties assigned of them today?”

The commander nodded.  “Yes, madam.  We have been commanded that this day is about search and interrogation, but ...”

Ophee smiled as her spell allowed her to sense the woman’s respect and fear.  The commanding woman was caught between duty and offending Ophee.  Ophee interrupted the woman’s speech in an attempt to alleviate the commander’s dilemma.  “Commander, do not allow my presence to interfere with your duties.  Ask your questions.  We should be treated like no others.  In today’s day, there are few that you should be willing to trust outright.”

The woman relaxed, and Ophee could see the ease upon her face as well as feel the mental relief through the spell.  “Thank you, madam.  Since you have no cart, we can dispense with the search.  As to the interrogation, can you please state your destination?”

Ophee smiled politely.  She would need to choose her words carefully.  It was necessary to give an appropriate response to the commander of the guard, but there was no need to say anything that might cause the party to question her comments or actions at a later date.  They did not realize that she had taken on the role of a city guard.  “I am escorting these travelers into the city.  They carry important information and abilities of which the overseer has great need.  This information may lead to significant progress for the people of Eberdeen and perhaps all of Tongra.”

The woman wrinkled her eyebrows with respect to the pause that Ophee had given before speaking the word overseer.  The commander knew that the title of overseer was not a common title for anyone in a position of authority within the city guard of Eberdeen itself.  However, the word overseer was equally as innocent.  There were certainly no criminal mentions involving the title overseer.

Ophee could sense the woman’s confusion as soon as she had spoken the word.  It had been a desperate attempt to weave together the concepts of wizard and master as well as lord and governor.  Through her word selection she had been able to speak a different meaning to each of the groups listening to her.  She had hoped that the city guard would interpret the word as defining a general within the national army while the adventurers behind her would interpret it as a synonym for a wizard or master.

However, the commanding officer hadn’t made the mental leap as easily as Ophee had hoped.  Ophee spoke quickly, hoping to prevent the commanding officer from saying something out of place.  “Our guests are new to these proceedings of our capitol city, commander.  They are unaccustomed to the ways of our city and the necessity of search parties on account of our lack of walls and gates.  I speak for them, but I speak in a manner and vocabulary that will aid in their understanding.  Ultimately, they come from Lord Ironblood’s region and the land surrounding Fingerdale.”

The woman eased as Ophee spoke, although Ophee could tell that she had not been completely convincing.  The commander looked at the foursome behind Ophee and smiled.  “Very well, then.  Send my regards to the governor.  If these four are so important to the governor’s work, would you object if I send two of my men to help you escort them?  Eberdeen is a large city and I would hate for you to not be able to protect them.  As good of a job as the city guard can do, we must agree that the guard is by no means perfect.  As much as it pains me to say it, crime continues to persist in Eberdeen.”

Ophee smiled.  “But of course, if you deem it necessary your guards are welcome to come.  The abilities and information that my companions possess are to be tested at the wizard’s college before meeting with the overseer.  That is the destination to which I have been asked to deliver them.  Your men are welcome to make sure we make it that far safely.  From there, no doubt the wizards can provide for their safety within the city.”

The commander smiled and pivoted in her saddle.  “Very well, then.  Shaira and Auxis, you are my best riders.  Go with them and make sure that they are delivered as expected to the wizard’s college as the governor has requested.”

The commander waited for the two riders to present themselves and leave the watch.  Once the two city guards had left the small patrol, the commander turned and nodded out of respect to Ophee before turning her horse around.  The patrol departed without farewell.  Ophee, the adventurers, and the two city guards had been granted access to Eberdeen.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ophee motioned for the others to stay behind her. “I am going to use a bit of magic, and I do not want you all to come under its effect. Please stay behind me and do not interfere.” Her commanding tone left little room for arguments.

Rhema immediately shot Ischarus a concerned look. In spite of the commanding tone, Charis was the first to speak. “Magic? If you need to use magic to get past the guards, perhaps we shouldn’t be here.”

Semeion slowly shook his head in disapproval. “No choice, Charis. If we turn around and leave now, we only implicate ourselves as being guilty of something.”

The whole of the party’s conversation was lost on Ophee. In truth, she wasn’t even paying attention to her riding companions any longer. Her mind focused in on the small number of horsemen coming toward her and she smiled. The horsemen couldn’t see it, but both of her hands began to slowly gesture as they loosely held the reigns of her horse. “Thizzle Umaam.” The words glided out of her mouth without her lips moving any more than would be necessary to breathe. The end result was that her voice slithered like that of a hiss from a serpent.

The second spell that she cast was done even less noticeably. Had the party been able to detect what was happening, they would have seen just how rehearsed the move actually was. She released the reigns of her horse and used her knees to grip the strong beast underneath her. Now that her hands were free, she brought her fingers up to her head and allowed them to run through the hair above her ears until they met in the back of her head. She offered up a slight chant, which lasted no more than five seconds and transferred from the root note to its third and fifth before returning to the home pitch. “Parzuhs.”

The net effect of the spell was to slightly change the appearance of Ophee’s face and the clothing under her riding cloak. The changes to her face were so subtle that they were impossible to observe from where the party sat upon their mounts behind her. Slight streaks of graying hair appeared at the top of her forehead, but the blending was so natural that by the time the streaks reached the back of her head the change was invisible to the party. The clothing under her riding cloak changed so that when the wind ruffled the cloak open just enough to observe the cloth underneath it was possible to detect that her clothing matched that of the guard of Eberdeen.

The horsemen were still a minute of riding away from Ophee when she spoke to the party. She remained facing the coming horsemen and trusted that her voice would carry enough for the party to hear. “The spell that I just cast will allow me to pick up on their initial impressions and intentions toward us. I will not be able to read their minds, but I will know if they are suspicious of something in particular or if they are merely doing what they get paid to do. It will give me an edge in dealing with them.” 

There was no reply from the four riders behind her. They could do nothing at this point except trust that Ophee knew what she was doing. Deceiving the royal guard of Eberdeen was not their style, but they did not fully understand the work the Ophee performed for her master. It was important that they followed with Ophee’s plan as much as possible until they could determine if Ophee’s master could help them or not. They certainly couldn’t flee, and they dared not interrupt Ophee’s plan without knowing precisely what was going on.

Ophee made no mention of the second spell that had been cast. She returned her left hand to the reigns of her horse and relaxed her knees. With her right hand, she unclasped the topmost hook that kept her cloak near to her body. The cloak fluttered in the breeze more than before, but not enough to allow any of the party behind her to see the uniform of the city guard underneath it. Ophee did not speak again until the riders completed their approach.

The commander of the small group of city guard rode to within ten feet of Ophee’s position. When the wind caught Ophee’s cloak and blew it open enough for the commander to see the uniform underneath, the guard reacted in surprise. The rider lifted the front face of the helm that was protecting the rider’s face. When the plate was removed, Ophee was surprised to see that the commander of the group was indeed a woman. Furthermore, the shape of the woman’s eyes revealed that she had some amount of elven lineage within her. 

The commander spoke first, initiating the conversation. “Pardon me, madam. We did not recognize you from our outpost.” 

The commander’s voice betrayed her surprise enough that the party didn’t need the benefit of Ophee’s spell to know that something about Ophee had caught the commander off guard. They passed unknowing looks between each other in search of any explanation for why that the commander had been caught off guard. None of the four had any idea why the guard had initiated the conversation with such a strange proclamation.

Ophee bowed slightly in her saddle as the rest of the group of guards settled into position behind their commander. “There is no offense taken. I assume that your patrol is performing the duties assigned of them today?”

The commander nodded. “Yes, madam. We have been commanded that this day is about search and interrogation, but ...”

Ophee smiled as her spell allowed her to sense the woman’s respect and fear. The commanding woman was caught between duty and offending Ophee. Ophee interrupted the woman’s speech in an attempt to alleviate the commander’s dilemma. “Commander, do not allow my presence to interfere with your duties. Ask your questions. We should be treated like no others. In today’s day, there are few that you should be willing to trust outright.”

The woman relaxed, and Ophee could see the ease upon her face as well as feel the mental relief through the spell. “Thank you, madam. Since you have no cart, we can dispense with the search. As to the interrogation, can you please state your destination?”

Ophee smiled politely. She would need to choose her words carefully. It was necessary to give an appropriate response to the commander of the guard, but there was no need to say anything that might cause the party to question her comments or actions at a later date. They did not realize that she had taken on the role of a city guard. “I am escorting these travelers into the city. They carry important information and abilities of which the overseer has great need. This information may lead to significant progress for the people of Eberdeen and perhaps all of Tongra.”

The woman wrinkled her eyebrows with respect to the pause that Ophee had given before speaking the word overseer. The commander knew that the title of overseer was not a common title for anyone in a position of authority within the city guard of Eberdeen itself. However, the word overseer was equally as innocent. There were certainly no criminal mentions involving the title overseer.

Ophee could sense the woman’s confusion as soon as she had spoken the word. It had been a desperate attempt to weave together the concepts of wizard and master as well as lord and governor. Through her word selection she had been able to speak a different meaning to each of the groups listening to her. She had hoped that the city guard would interpret the word as defining a general within the national army while the adventurers behind her would interpret it as a synonym for a wizard or master.

However, the commanding officer hadn’t made the mental leap as easily as Ophee had hoped. Ophee spoke quickly, hoping to prevent the commanding officer from saying something out of place. “Our guests are new to these proceedings of our capitol city, commander. They are unaccustomed to the ways of our city and the necessity of search parties on account of our lack of walls and gates. I speak for them, but I speak in a manner and vocabulary that will aid in their understanding. Ultimately, they come from Lord Ironblood’s region and the land surrounding Fingerdale.”

The woman eased as Ophee spoke, although Ophee could tell that she had not been completely convincing. The commander looked at the foursome behind Ophee and smiled. “Very well, then. Send my regards to the governor. If these four are so important to the governor’s work, would you object if I send two of my men to help you escort them? Eberdeen is a large city and I would hate for you to not be able to protect them. As good of a job as the city guard can do, we must agree that the guard is by no means perfect. As much as it pains me to say it, crime continues to persist in Eberdeen.”

Ophee smiled. “But of course, if you deem it necessary your guards are welcome to come. The abilities and information that my companions possess are to be tested at the wizard’s college before meeting with the overseer. That is the destination to which I have been asked to deliver them. Your men are welcome to make sure we make it that far safely. From there, no doubt the wizards can provide for their safety within the city.”

The commander smiled and pivoted in her saddle. “Very well, then. Shaira and Auxis, you are my best riders. Go with them and make sure that they are delivered as expected to the wizard’s college as the governor has requested.”

The commander waited for the two riders to present themselves and leave the watch. Once the two city guards had left the small patrol, the commander turned and nodded out of respect to Ophee before turning her horse around. The patrol departed without farewell. Ophee, the adventurers, and the two city guards had been granted access to Eberdeen.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 9, 2007)

The net result of the conversation with the commander was that the foursome entered Eberdeen in silence while Ophee managed to make small talk with the city guards.  The meeting seemed to have gone well enough, but the unexpected addition of the city guards as an escort was enough to put the adventurers on edge.  Ophee didn’t seem altogether pleased with the development either, but she wasn’t about to let silence give her unease away.

The party headed directly for the twin spires that rose out of the city.  The towers of the wizard’s college reached up into the sky as if to defy the ultimate and irreversible power of gravity.  Normal buildings couldn’t be constructed past a second or third usable floor without running the risk of collapsing upon itself.  The twin peaks of the wizard’s college stretched this boundary by a full two dozen floors.  They were as permanent of a monument to the ability of magic to defy logic as any across the land of Tongra.

Only the bottom four floors of the twin towers were accessible by stairs.  The rest of the towers were governed by the transportation abilities of the person desiring to ascend to higher levels.  In a sense, the top twenty three stories were a hard reminder of the separation between those who were already masters of magic and those who were still mastered by the magic.  The students who were still dependant upon both the physical world and stairs were prevented from joining in on the more advanced discussions of the upper level.

The approaching group of horses slowed on the street outside the nearest spire.  Ophee turned slightly to her companions and smiled with a sense of deep relief and enjoyment.  “Now that we have  officially arrived, I will ask all of you to stay outside the wizard’s college until I have alerted the one who has been arranged to do the examination.”  Ophee turned to speak to Shaira.  “If the two of you don’t mind waiting until the appropriate wizard has been notified, I would be greatly appreciative.  I would hate for my long journey from Fingerdale to end tragically on the streets of Eberdeen.  There can be no doubt that our overseer would be greatly displeased, too.”

The female guard nodded in reply and turned to look at the four companions.  They didn’t appear that they would be hard to guard.  For the sake of security, Shaira nodded to Auxis and pointed.  Her male counterpart drew the reigns of his horse over the left side of the horse’s neck and the trained beast slowly walked so that they were on the opposite side of the foursome as Shaira and her mount.

Ophee slipped off of her mount and disappeared on foot into the wizard’s college.  She was gone for about ten minutes before she returned.  The party spent the time in complete silence.  They didn’t want to say anything to jeopardize what fragile sense of camaraderie seemed to be occurring between Ophee, the guards, and the party.

Ophee’s return was considerably more dramatic that her departure.  The fact that she returned with one of the mages from the wizard’s college was not necessarily what made her return dramatic.  It wasn’t even the fact that the wizard appeared in the full robes of his teaching office or the fact that he was carrying a gnarled staff made from the wood of the tall and broad leafed mahogany tree.  What made Ophee’s return dramatic was the fact that the pair appeared out of thin air without any kind of warning at all.  They had used teleportation magic to arrive.

The group of six riders waiting outside the wizard’s college was taken completely by surprise with the sudden appearance of Ophee and the wizard.  In an instant the guards, Ischarus, and Charis had their weapons drawn and had spun their horses to face the intruding pair.  Fortunately they each recognized Ophee before they took any action.

The wizard smiled and held out an outstretched hand.  The staff stretched horizontally from the wizard’s hand as if to provide a simple defense from the steel weapons of the horsemen.  “Do you plan on using those?”  There was a distinct tone of amusement in his voice.

Semeion cracked a smile as those who had drawn their weapons quickly stowed them.  Of course it had been a rational reaction, but Semeion enjoyed a further demonstration of the power that magic had over the world.  He longed for the day when he could hold a staff and be confident of his ability to be victorious against a mounted party coming against him.

When the wizard had paused long enough to make it evident that nobody planned on speaking to him, he continued his discourse of directions.  “I am the wizard that you seek.  I have been planning on evaluating the abilities and testimony of the four.”  He turned to the guards and spoke to them directly.  “If you think it would please your commander at the guardhouse, you are welcome to observe a few of the tests so that you can be sure that what we say is true.  I understand from my associate that there was some doubt to the validity of her story upon your arrival to Eberdeen.”

Shaira nodded.  “I believe my commander would appreciate knowing that the words were true.”  Auxis allowed a serious look to pass over his face before nodding in agreement.

The wizard smiled.  “If you insist.  To prove that I have nothing to hide, why do we not perform the first of the tests out here in the open where there can be no doubt?  One of the tests suggested is geared to test their fighting prowess, and I am assuming we can trust the city guard to remain neutral knowing that a wizard from the wizard’s college has the situation under control?”

The guards nodded and the wizard thumped the end of his staff hard against the ground before turning to the party.  “Dismount and prepare yourselves for combat.  You have as long as it takes for me to cast this spell to prepare for battle.”

The party quickly dismounted and commanded their horses to a safe distance away.  In an instant their weapons were out and they formed a tight defensive square with their backs to one another since they didn’t know what threat the wizard would throw against them.  Semeion heard the wizard chanting and easily identified the spell being cast.  “He’s summoning a creature, and a powerful one at that.  Brace yourselves.”

The wizard completed his gesturing and gave the final command word.  “Daancrah Pashor Diast Pahl.” 

A scaly creature with claws for hands and feet suddenly popped into existence and cried in frenzy.  “You have summoned me again?  Feel my rage!”

The creature only stood six feet tall, but its dark glowing red eyes which lacked pupils and green scaly skin made it clear that it was not native to the lands of Enigmatica – or anywhere in the known world for that matter.  As the creature spoke it revealed its razor sharp teeth.  The claws on its four-toed feet were blackened and the color of ebony.  The claws on the end of its three-fingered and one-thumbed hand matched in terms of absolute blackness.  The beast twirled a long pole in the air above its head so fast that the party did not immediately notice the voulge-guisarme end of the staff until the end shot towards Charis in the form of an attack.

Fortunately, Charis was ready for the attack.  The metallic shaft of her pick blocked the first strike.  She prepared herself as the creature spun around and used the momentum of the spin to swipe once more before anyone could retaliate.  The hammer end of Charis’ pick met with the weapon midair and knocked it harmlessly to the side.  

Ischarus leapt forward as the creature struck towards Charis.  As he did, the creature spun once more with the weapon and struck hard against the charging fighter.  This blow landed successfully and Ischarus winced in pain as a streak of dark blood appeared at his side.  Ischarus swung his blade in retaliation, but his strike was deflected away by the butt end of the creature’s weapon.

Charis watched patiently as Ischarus approached the creature with great vigor.  She knew from Semeion’s warning that the creature was meant to challenge them and she knew that tactics would play an important role in their evaluation.  She moved into position so that she and Ischarus would attack from opposite sides and hopefully distract the creature.  Her pick stuck deep into the creature, but as she pulled the pointed end out of the creature’s body the wound seemed to almost completely heal on its own as she removed the weapon.

Semeion saw the wound heal upon impact and knew that this was not a development in their favor.  Creatures that could heal weapon damage immediately after impact were often best brought down through pure magical effort.  “Rhema, we must show no mercy and give it a full onslaught.  Ischarus’ and Charis’ weapons have diminished effect!” 

The young mage turned and snarled at the beast.  As he tried to cast a spell upon the creature he could feel the beast fighting in return.  In order to put up such a magical barrier it must have been formed from either magic or a type of other worldliness.  Semeion cried out in anger and the spell surged forward.  “Thin-tok!”  The typical blue energy flowed down his arm and collected upon his fingers before springing forward.  As had happened back at the villa, the missile was quickly followed by a second.  Both missiles struck the creature.

Rhema watched as the creature’s weapon bit into Ischarus and she heard Semeion’s warning.  She only needed a minimal amount of prodding to unleash her full mental onslaught.  Her finger pointed in the general direction of the creature and she smiled.  Although no words left her mouth, the creature howled in severe pain as Rhema assaulted its mind.

Ischarus and Semeion were now too close for the creature to use its staff with the voulge-guisarme end.  However, it could still use its claws.  The creature’s red eyes flared in intensity as it jammed the end of the rod onto the ground and used it as if it were a pole-vaulter’s stick.  The feet of the creature left the ground as its hands held onto the shaft of the weapon.  Each of the creature’s claws upon the scaly feet ripped towards Ischarus.  The left set of claws landed and Ischarus’ right shoulder was bloodied.

Ischarus returned the strike with a blow of his own.  His sword sliced through the air with precision and landed a blow.  Although the creature’s wounds partially healed as Ischarus brought his sword back into a defensive position, damage had been done.  The fighter snarled as he noticed that the wizard, Ophee, and the guards were only watching this potentially lethal battle as interested observers.

Charis again swung as Ischarus struck.  She had managed to use Ischarus’ attack as cover for her own and it worked.  Her blow landed solidly, although again the creature healed most of the damage from the blow immediately after Charis removed her weapon from the creature’s hide.

Semeion tried to cast another spell while the creature was attacked by Ischarus and Charis, but this time his attack was defeated by the magical protection surrounding the red eyed creature.  The energy from the spell shot down his arm but refused to collect itself into a ball that could be thrown at the creature.  The wasted energy bounced to the ground like sparks from a smith’s anvil before vanishing into thin air.

Rhema had better luck with her attack.  In spite of the creature’s ability to try and block her own magic, she was able to assault the creature with another mental attack.  Wordlessly her mind entered the thoughts of the creature and the beat howled again in pain.  Rhema’s face beat red with anger as she watched her husband’s defense be beaten down.

The creature could not leave.  It had no choice but to stay and fight unless the wizard who summoned it desired to release it.  Again the creature attacked Ischarus with his claws, but this time Ischarus knew what to expect.  Ischarus dodged the assault from both claws and came through unharmed.  Unfortunately, because he had been focusing on preserving his own life he couldn’t afford much of an offensive strike, either.

When the creature saw that Ischarus wasn’t putting up much of a fight at the moment, the beast turned and managed to get a hand on the shaft of Charis’ pick.  Her blow was knocked to the side before any damage could be done.  The shaft of the weapon was hot when Charis finally managed to wrestle the creature’s hands free.

Again Semeion tried to beat the creature’s magical defenses, but again the magical energy faded from his hand like useless sparks.  Rhema was able to penetrate the creature’s mind once more, however.  She knew the creature was close to defeat from her last assault; and as she focused on the creature’s mind she clenched her fists tightly.  Her right palm began to bleed as her nails broke the surface of her skin.  The mental control she unleashed upon the creature was horrific and she knew that she had won.  The creature’s mind went blank and the beast vanished in a puff of black smoke.  

All that remained was the stench of brimstone.  The smell attached itself to Ischarus’ and Charis’ clothing before wafting harmlessly into the air.  Semeion swallowed hard as he turned to look the wizard in the eye.  There was a deep emotional venom seething through his expression.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The net result of the conversation with the commander was that the foursome entered Eberdeen in silence while Ophee managed to make small talk with the city guards. The meeting seemed to have gone well enough, but the unexpected addition of the city guards as an escort was enough to put the adventurers on edge. Ophee didn’t seem altogether pleased with the development either, but she wasn’t about to let silence give her unease away.

The party headed directly for the twin spires that rose out of the city. The towers of the wizard’s college reached up into the sky as if to defy the ultimate and irreversible power of gravity. Normal buildings couldn’t be constructed past a second or third usable floor without running the risk of collapsing upon itself. The twin peaks of the wizard’s college stretched this boundary by a full two dozen floors. They were as permanent of a monument to the ability of magic to defy logic as any across the land of Tongra.

Only the bottom four floors of the twin towers were accessible by stairs. The rest of the towers were governed by the transportation abilities of the person desiring to ascend to higher levels. In a sense, the top twenty three stories were a hard reminder of the separation between those who were already masters of magic and those who were still mastered by the magic. The students who were still dependant upon both the physical world and stairs were prevented from joining in on the more advanced discussions of the upper level.

The approaching group of horses slowed on the street outside the nearest spire. Ophee turned slightly to her companions and smiled with a sense of deep relief and enjoyment. “Now that we have officially arrived, I will ask all of you to stay outside the wizard’s college until I have alerted the one who has been arranged to do the examination.” Ophee turned to speak to Shaira. “If the two of you don’t mind waiting until the appropriate wizard has been notified, I would be greatly appreciative. I would hate for my long journey from Fingerdale to end tragically on the streets of Eberdeen. There can be no doubt that our overseer would be greatly displeased, too.”

The female guard nodded in reply and turned to look at the four companions. They didn’t appear that they would be hard to guard. For the sake of security, Shaira nodded to Auxis and pointed. Her male counterpart drew the reigns of his horse over the left side of the horse’s neck and the trained beast slowly walked so that they were on the opposite side of the foursome as Shaira and her mount.

Ophee slipped off of her mount and disappeared on foot into the wizard’s college. She was gone for about ten minutes before she returned. The party spent the time in complete silence. They didn’t want to say anything to jeopardize what fragile sense of camaraderie seemed to be occurring between Ophee, the guards, and the party.

Ophee’s return was considerably more dramatic that her departure. The fact that she returned with one of the mages from the wizard’s college was not necessarily what made her return dramatic. It wasn’t even the fact that the wizard appeared in the full robes of his teaching office or the fact that he was carrying a gnarled staff made from the wood of the tall and broad leafed mahogany tree. What made Ophee’s return dramatic was the fact that the pair appeared out of thin air without any kind of warning at all. They had used teleportation magic to arrive.

The group of six riders waiting outside the wizard’s college was taken completely by surprise with the sudden appearance of Ophee and the wizard. In an instant the guards, Ischarus, and Charis had their weapons drawn and had spun their horses to face the intruding pair. Fortunately they each recognized Ophee before they took any action.

The wizard smiled and held out an outstretched hand. The staff stretched horizontally from the wizard’s hand as if to provide a simple defense from the steel weapons of the horsemen. “Do you plan on using those?” There was a distinct tone of amusement in his voice.

Semeion cracked a smile as those who had drawn their weapons quickly stowed them. Of course it had been a rational reaction, but Semeion enjoyed a further demonstration of the power that magic had over the world. He longed for the day when he could hold a staff and be confident of his ability to be victorious against a mounted party coming against him.

When the wizard had paused long enough to make it evident that nobody planned on speaking to him, he continued his discourse of directions. “I am the wizard that you seek. I have been planning on evaluating the abilities and testimony of the four.” He turned to the guards and spoke to them directly. “If you think it would please your commander at the guardhouse, you are welcome to observe a few of the tests so that you can be sure that what we say is true. I understand from my associate that there was some doubt to the validity of her story upon your arrival to Eberdeen.”

Shaira nodded. “I believe my commander would appreciate knowing that the words were true.” Auxis allowed a serious look to pass over his face before nodding in agreement.

The wizard smiled. “If you insist. To prove that I have nothing to hide, why do we not perform the first of the tests out here in the open where there can be no doubt? One of the tests suggested is geared to test their fighting prowess, and I am assuming we can trust the city guard to remain neutral knowing that a wizard from the wizard’s college has the situation under control?”

The guards nodded and the wizard thumped the end of his staff hard against the ground before turning to the party. “Dismount and prepare yourselves for combat. You have as long as it takes for me to cast this spell to prepare for battle.”

The party quickly dismounted and commanded their horses to a safe distance away. In an instant their weapons were out and they formed a tight defensive square with their backs to one another since they didn’t know what threat the wizard would throw against them. Semeion heard the wizard chanting and easily identified the spell being cast. “He’s summoning a creature, and a powerful one at that. Brace yourselves.”

The wizard completed his gesturing and gave the final command word. “Daancrah Pashor Diast Pahl.” 

A scaly creature with claws for hands and feet suddenly popped into existence and cried in frenzy. “You have summoned me again? Feel my rage!”

The creature only stood six feet tall, but its dark glowing red eyes which lacked pupils and green scaly skin made it clear that it was not native to the lands of Enigmatica – or anywhere in the known world for that matter. As the creature spoke it revealed its razor sharp teeth. The claws on its four-toed feet were blackened and the color of ebony. The claws on the end of its three-fingered and one-thumbed hand matched in terms of absolute blackness. The beast twirled a long pole in the air above its head so fast that the party did not immediately notice the voulge-guisarme end of the staff until the end shot towards Charis in the form of an attack.

Fortunately, Charis was ready for the attack. The metallic shaft of her pick blocked the first strike. She prepared herself as the creature spun around and used the momentum of the spin to swipe once more before anyone could retaliate. The hammer end of Charis’ pick met with the weapon midair and knocked it harmlessly to the side. 

Ischarus leapt forward as the creature struck towards Charis. As he did, the creature spun once more with the weapon and struck hard against the charging fighter. This blow landed successfully and Ischarus winced in pain as a streak of dark blood appeared at his side. Ischarus swung his blade in retaliation, but his strike was deflected away by the butt end of the creature’s weapon.

Charis watched patiently as Ischarus approached the creature with great vigor. She knew from Semeion’s warning that the creature was meant to challenge them and she knew that tactics would play an important role in their evaluation. She moved into position so that she and Ischarus would attack from opposite sides and hopefully distract the creature. Her pick stuck deep into the creature, but as she pulled the pointed end out of the creature’s body the wound seemed to almost completely heal on its own as she removed the weapon.

Semeion saw the wound heal upon impact and knew that this was not a development in their favor. Creatures that could heal weapon damage immediately after impact were often best brought down through pure magical effort. “Rhema, we must show no mercy and give it a full onslaught. Ischarus’ and Charis’ weapons have diminished effect!” 

The young mage turned and snarled at the beast. As he tried to cast a spell upon the creature he could feel the beast fighting in return. In order to put up such a magical barrier it must have been formed from either magic or a type of other worldliness. Semeion cried out in anger and the spell surged forward. “Thin-tok!” The typical blue energy flowed down his arm and collected upon his fingers before springing forward. As had happened back at the villa, the missile was quickly followed by a second. Both missiles struck the creature.

Rhema watched as the creature’s weapon bit into Ischarus and she heard Semeion’s warning. She only needed a minimal amount of prodding to unleash her full mental onslaught. Her finger pointed in the general direction of the creature and she smiled. Although no words left her mouth, the creature howled in severe pain as Rhema assaulted its mind.

Ischarus and Semeion were now too close for the creature to use its staff with the voulge-guisarme end. However, it could still use its claws. The creature’s red eyes flared in intensity as it jammed the end of the rod onto the ground and used it as if it were a pole-vaulter’s stick. The feet of the creature left the ground as its hands held onto the shaft of the weapon. Each of the creature’s claws upon the scaly feet ripped towards Ischarus. The left set of claws landed and Ischarus’ right shoulder was bloodied.

Ischarus returned the strike with a blow of his own. His sword sliced through the air with precision and landed a blow. Although the creature’s wounds partially healed as Ischarus brought his sword back into a defensive position, damage had been done. The fighter snarled as he noticed that the wizard, Ophee, and the guards were only watching this potentially lethal battle as interested observers.

Charis again swung as Ischarus struck. She had managed to use Ischarus’ attack as cover for her own and it worked. Her blow landed solidly, although again the creature healed most of the damage from the blow immediately after Charis removed her weapon from the creature’s hide.

Semeion tried to cast another spell while the creature was attacked by Ischarus and Charis, but this time his attack was defeated by the magical protection surrounding the red eyed creature. The energy from the spell shot down his arm but refused to collect itself into a ball that could be thrown at the creature. The wasted energy bounced to the ground like sparks from a smith’s anvil before vanishing into thin air.

Rhema had better luck with her attack. In spite of the creature’s ability to try and block her own magic, she was able to assault the creature with another mental attack. Wordlessly her mind entered the thoughts of the creature and the beat howled again in pain. Rhema’s face beat red with anger as she watched her husband’s defense be beaten down.

The creature could not leave. It had no choice but to stay and fight unless the wizard who summoned it desired to release it. Again the creature attacked Ischarus with his claws, but this time Ischarus knew what to expect. Ischarus dodged the assault from both claws and came through unharmed. Unfortunately, because he had been focusing on preserving his own life he couldn’t afford much of an offensive strike, either.

When the creature saw that Ischarus wasn’t putting up much of a fight at the moment, the beast turned and managed to get a hand on the shaft of Charis’ pick. Her blow was knocked to the side before any damage could be done. The shaft of the weapon was hot when Charis finally managed to wrestle the creature’s hands free.

Again Semeion tried to beat the creature’s magical defenses, but again the magical energy faded from his hand like useless sparks. Rhema was able to penetrate the creature’s mind once more, however. She knew the creature was close to defeat from her last assault; and as she focused on the creature’s mind she clenched her fists tightly. Her right palm began to bleed as her nails broke the surface of her skin. The mental control she unleashed upon the creature was horrific and she knew that she had won. The creature’s mind went blank and the beast vanished in a puff of black smoke. 

All that remained was the stench of brimstone. The smell attached itself to Ischarus’ and Charis’ clothing before wafting harmlessly into the air. Semeion swallowed hard as he turned to look the wizard in the eye. There was a deep emotional venom seething through his expression. 
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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 11, 2007)

Semeion turned to confront the wizard, but the wizard was already looking to the city guards.  “There.  You can see for yourself that the testing is legitimate.”  The guards did not look particularly convinced.

The young mage broke in to address the wizard before the city guard could retort.  “You summoned some kind of demon to attack us?  Surely even you know that summoning any kind of evil presence from the heavens is a crime punishable by death, even if you were trying to test us!”

The guards looked to Semeion for confirmation as they drew their weapons.  The wizard lifted the end of his staff up from the ground and waved it through the air as a distraction.  “It was simple illusion, that’s all.”  The smile on his face told the party that he was enjoying the exchange.

Suddenly Semeion felt as though the bubble of awe had burst.  Before the combat he was in awe of the magical oppression of reality.  Having been affected by the magical force he now saw its darker side.  Magic could bring about great things such as the wizard’s college.  However, just as easily the magic could oppress itself upon others as the wizard had done.  Semeion shook his head.  “That was no illusion.”

The wizard’s smile increased at Semeion’s accusation.  “It wouldn’t be much of an illusion if you were able to recognize it, now would it?  I know you have magical prowess, but do you think you can identify all the spells I am able to cast?  Do you really think I would summon something evil in the presence of the city guard?  If I summoned something evil, they would be obligated to try and arrest me.  Why would I subject myself to that?  Trust me, it was an illusion designed to make you believe it was real.  I’d say it worked.”

Semeion narrowed his eyelids as he continued to distrust the words of the wizard.  His companions looked to him for confirmation, but they only saw the distrust in the young mage’s face.  Semeion wasn’t convinced and he made no effort to hide his doubt.

The wizard turned to the guards and continued his rationalization.  “There, you have seen their testing begin.  You can report to your commander at the guard post of what you saw.  I realize that it was only an illusion, but their individual abilities had to be examined in addition to their approach to teamwork.  I hope that as I was evaluating them that you were also capable of evaluating their performance.  Please take that assessment as proof of my examination and report to your commander.”

Shaira looked to Auxis and shrugged.  The man explaining away the summoning as an illusion was a member of the wizard college and there could be little reason to question the wizard’s ability to make an illusion so real that it could not be detected as an illusion.  Shaira nodded to the wizard and spoke in a flat tone.  “We thank you for allowing the first part of their examination to occur for our benefit.  You can have no doubt that I will give a full accounting of the examination to my superior.”

The wizard turned back to Semeion once the guards turned their horses and began to head away from the wizard’s college.  The smile persisted upon his face.  He was enjoying the events with all the satisfaction of an adult who knew something about which nobody else had access.

Charis looked to Semeion and then turned back to the wizard.  “That was no illusion, am I right?”

Ophee looked with confusion to the party and focused on Semeion.  “Of course it was an illusion.  Convince them, master.”

The wizard dismissed the conversation by giving no acknowledgement.  “Shall we head into the wizard’ college?  Where I am taking you we can only get to through magic.  Opheiluka, run along and bring someone to tend their horses, would you?”

Ischarus shook his head violently and held out a hand to stop Ophee.  “We’re not going anywhere until you answer Charis’ question.  Semeion is convinced that the spell was no illusion.  Is he right?”

The wizard chuckled out of enjoyment.  “Opheiluka, run along.  You know as well as I do that your journey was not in vain.  They’ll be joining us upstairs.  Go find someone to take the horses to the stables.  I’ll talk with them while you are accomplishing that minor task.”  Ophee nodded and once more headed into the front door of the wizard’s college.

Once she was in the building, Ischarus again looked into the wizard’s eye.  “Tell us the truth, then.  Was it an illusion or did you summon an essence of pure evil?”

The wizard extended his arms in an open stance as he spoke.  “Look at the college before you.  Magic runs thicker than air through this part of Eberdeen.  What would you have me say?  I already told you that it was an illusion and you chose not to believe me.  The only thing I can apparently say is what you want me to say.  And what is that?  Sure, it was a real incarnation of evil.  Now, will you go with me?”  His expression had changed into a deep smirk.  His tone followed that of the smirk as it took on the tenor of dark sarcasm.

Rhema grimaced at the wizard’s words.  “And how can we trust you?  We can’t even trust what the truth is!”

The smirk vanished off the face of the wizard and once more it was replaced by a smile of enjoyment.  “Don’t blame me for the fault of your own doubt!  I have said opposite statements.  The truth is one of them.  But the only reason I gave you opposite statements is because you have already predetermined to not believe me.  Do not blame that on me; blame that on your own dark suspicions.  You already decided that you knew what the truth was.  Your inability to see my illusion for what it truly was has forced your pride to assume that it was real!  Your pride and arrogance has left me with the option of saying only that which you expect to hear.”

Charis sneered.  “Then why are we here?  So far our venture into Eberdeen has been nothing like I expected.  We came here to find your conception of the truth about what happened to the villa, but all we find are double-sided tales and convolutions.”

The wizard extended a pointed finger to Charis and continued to smile.  “There, finally someone speaks the truth.  You doubt me and my Opheiluka.  But I would also argue that you did not come to me to find the truth, my dear.  You came to me to find the Ephistaemi.  Did you honestly expect that to be an easy task?  If I were as easy to read as any book, the Ephistaemi would have nothing to do with me.  They work with me because of my ability to fold the truth in upon itself and reveal it in unexpected terms.  I can play with the truth like the illusions that I manipulate.  But make no doubt about it.  You did not come here for me to tell you a truth that I do not know.  You came here to find the Ephistaemi after providing a service for me.  Truth was never part of the bargain.  I can get you to the Ephistaemi for a price.  We are bartering here, not expounding upon the value of truth.”

Ischarus nodded, realizing that debating the ethics of the situation would get them nowhere.  “Speak your terms, then.  And test us accordingly.”

The wizard chuckled as he spotted Ophee exit the building with an apprentice mage at her side.  He spoke softly to the party.  “Not here.  If you want the Ephistaemi, you need to teleport with me into the wizard’s college.  If you wish to go home, now is the time to speak.  And you can be assured that your examination continues even as we speak.”

Before the party could respond, the wizard lifted his volume and spoke to Ophee and the apprentice mage walking beside her.  “Good timing, we were just about ready to need your services, weren’t we?”

Rhema, Charis, and Semeion instinctively looked to Ischarus.  Ischarus looked only to Rhema and thought only of the villa and the necessary work therein.  “Indeed.  Of course, for the sake of the apprentice can you tell us when we’ll return for our horses?”

The wizard nodded approvingly to Ischarus.  “You will need your horses in one hour’s time, no more.”

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Semeion turned to confront the wizard, but the wizard was already looking to the city guards. “There. You can see for yourself that the testing is legitimate.” The guards did not look particularly convinced.

The young mage broke in to address the wizard before the city guard could retort. “You summoned some kind of demon to attack us? Surely even you know that summoning any kind of evil presence from the heavens is a crime punishable by death, even if you were trying to test us!”

The guards looked to Semeion for confirmation as they drew their weapons. The wizard lifted the end of his staff up from the ground and waved it through the air as a distraction. “It was simple illusion, that’s all.” The smile on his face told the party that he was enjoying the exchange.

Suddenly Semeion felt as though the bubble of awe had burst. Before the combat he was in awe of the magical oppression of reality. Having been affected by the magical force he now saw its darker side. Magic could bring about great things such as the wizard’s college. However, just as easily the magic could oppress itself upon others as the wizard had done. Semeion shook his head. “That was no illusion.”

The wizard’s smile increased at Semeion’s accusation. “It wouldn’t be much of an illusion if you were able to recognize it, now would it? I know you have magical prowess, but do you think you can identify all the spells I am able to cast? Do you really think I would summon something evil in the presence of the city guard? If I summoned something evil, they would be obligated to try and arrest me. Why would I subject myself to that? Trust me, it was an illusion designed to make you believe it was real. I’d say it worked.”

Semeion narrowed his eyelids as he continued to distrust the words of the wizard. His companions looked to him for confirmation, but they only saw the distrust in the young mage’s face. Semeion wasn’t convinced and he made no effort to hide his doubt.

The wizard turned to the guards and continued his rationalization. “There, you have seen their testing begin. You can report to your commander at the guard post of what you saw. I realize that it was only an illusion, but their individual abilities had to be examined in addition to their approach to teamwork. I hope that as I was evaluating them that you were also capable of evaluating their performance. Please take that assessment as proof of my examination and report to your commander.”

Shaira looked to Auxis and shrugged. The man explaining away the summoning as an illusion was a member of the wizard college and there could be little reason to question the wizard’s ability to make an illusion so real that it could not be detected as an illusion. Shaira nodded to the wizard and spoke in a flat tone. “We thank you for allowing the first part of their examination to occur for our benefit. You can have no doubt that I will give a full accounting of the examination to my superior.”

The wizard turned back to Semeion once the guards turned their horses and began to head away from the wizard’s college. The smile persisted upon his face. He was enjoying the events with all the satisfaction of an adult who knew something about which nobody else had access.

Charis looked to Semeion and then turned back to the wizard. “That was no illusion, am I right?”

Ophee looked with confusion to the party and focused on Semeion. “Of course it was an illusion. Convince them, master.”

The wizard dismissed the conversation by giving no acknowledgement. “Shall we head into the wizard’ college? Where I am taking you we can only get to through magic. Opheiluka, run along and bring someone to tend their horses, would you?”

Ischarus shook his head violently and held out a hand to stop Ophee. “We’re not going anywhere until you answer Charis’ question. Semeion is convinced that the spell was no illusion. Is he right?”

The wizard chuckled out of enjoyment. “Opheiluka, run along. You know as well as I do that your journey was not in vain. They’ll be joining us upstairs. Go find someone to take the horses to the stables. I’ll talk with them while you are accomplishing that minor task.” Ophee nodded and once more headed into the front door of the wizard’s college.

Once she was in the building, Ischarus again looked into the wizard’s eye. “Tell us the truth, then. Was it an illusion or did you summon an essence of pure evil?”

The wizard extended his arms in an open stance as he spoke. “Look at the college before you. Magic runs thicker than air through this part of Eberdeen. What would you have me say? I already told you that it was an illusion and you chose not to believe me. The only thing I can apparently say is what you want me to say. And what is that? Sure, it was a real incarnation of evil. Now, will you go with me?” His expression had changed into a deep smirk. His tone followed that of the smirk as it took on the tenor of dark sarcasm.

Rhema grimaced at the wizard’s words. “And how can we trust you? We can’t even trust what the truth is!”

The smirk vanished off the face of the wizard and once more it was replaced by a smile of enjoyment. “Don’t blame me for the fault of your own doubt! I have said opposite statements. The truth is one of them. But the only reason I gave you opposite statements is because you have already predetermined to not believe me. Do not blame that on me; blame that on your own dark suspicions. You already decided that you knew what the truth was. Your inability to see my illusion for what it truly was has forced your pride to assume that it was real! Your pride and arrogance has left me with the option of saying only that which you expect to hear.”

Charis sneered. “Then why are we here? So far our venture into Eberdeen has been nothing like I expected. We came here to find your conception of the truth about what happened to the villa, but all we find are double-sided tales and convolutions.”

The wizard extended a pointed finger to Charis and continued to smile. “There, finally someone speaks the truth. You doubt me and my Opheiluka. But I would also argue that you did not come to me to find the truth, my dear. You came to me to find the Ephistaemi. Did you honestly expect that to be an easy task? If I were as easy to read as any book, the Ephistaemi would have nothing to do with me. They work with me because of my ability to fold the truth in upon itself and reveal it in unexpected terms. I can play with the truth like the illusions that I manipulate. But make no doubt about it. You did not come here for me to tell you a truth that I do not know. You came here to find the Ephistaemi after providing a service for me. Truth was never part of the bargain. I can get you to the Ephistaemi for a price. We are bartering here, not expounding upon the value of truth.”

Ischarus nodded, realizing that debating the ethics of the situation would get them nowhere. “Speak your terms, then. And test us accordingly.”

The wizard chuckled as he spotted Ophee exit the building with an apprentice mage at her side. He spoke softly to the party. “Not here. If you want the Ephistaemi, you need to teleport with me into the wizard’s college. If you wish to go home, now is the time to speak. And you can be assured that your examination continues even as we speak.”

Before the party could respond, the wizard lifted his volume and spoke to Ophee and the apprentice mage walking beside her. “Good timing, we were just about ready to need your services, weren’t we?”

Rhema, Charis, and Semeion instinctively looked to Ischarus. Ischarus looked only to Rhema and thought only of the villa and the necessary work therein. “Indeed. Of course, for the sake of the apprentice can you tell us when we’ll return for our horses?”

The wizard nodded approvingly to Ischarus. “You will need your horses in one hour’s time, no more.”
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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 15, 2007)

The teleport went smoothly, and it was a testimony to the power of the wizard to be able to teleport all six of the participants in a single maneuver.  The entire party had gone willingly, although they were certainly cautious in regard to the potential for a trap.

Once they were inside the building, the wizard opened his arms wide and extended them toward an area with several high backed cushioned chairs.  “Please,” the wizard began, “I’ll not have my guests be uncomfortable.  You are in my care now, and I must apologize for the sincere amount of doubt that must have been cast upon my presence in the last few hours.  Much of that doubt has been unfairly cast upon me by the lack of good decision making processes by my Opheiluka.”

The wizard looked towards Ophee with disappointment upon his face and continued to speak.  “Not everyone in the city trusts the wizard’s college.  You know that, I’m sure.  Each of you has some form of magical ability and its application extends in various directions.  You all know that there are circumstances in which magic is welcomed.  But there are far more places in which the use of magic is much less welcomed.  The city guard is one such location where magic is not always trusted.”

Rhema smiled politely.  “Yet, Ophee told us that the city guard was familiar with you and your work.”

The wizard grimaced, but seemed to smile through it.  “Ah, the proverbial snowball itself.  If you stand atop a mountain and throw an innocent little snowball, there is potential for the snowball to pick up and collect more snow as it rolls down the face of the mountain.  Only one in a million do not get stuck along the way, of course.  But the one that manages to make it the whole way down the mountain collecting snow is a monster by the time it reaches the bottom.  Yet it still remains a simple snowball that has gotten out of control.”

The wizard sat down once his guests – Ophee included – had found chairs for themselves and were comfortable.  “So it is with that simple miscalculation.  Opheiluka had a decision to make, and she thought that it would be best to not assume that these guards appreciated what the wizard’s college does for their life.  She believed she had control of the situation and wanted to keep you out of the equation.  In that respect, I will give her credit.  She knows the guards much more than any of you, I presume.  By giving you the impression that she had control of the situation, she minimized the possibility of introducing you all as random variables that could have upset her ability to control the situation.”

Semeion smiled as he listened to the wizard.  He was clearly enjoying the multi-layered explanation upon explanation.  He knew that the truth was somewhere in the midst of the stories and it was only a matter of digging deep enough to reach the truth.  “Yet she was already playing damage control, then?  Was that her great mistake?  Once she realized that we were going to be met by the guards she began to perform damage control and assume the worst.  She had, then, already admitted defeat and was simply trying to maintain the absolute essence of her plan.”

The wizard’s eyes sparkled as Semeion spoke.  “Now, with that conclusion you would make an astonishing apprentice of mine!”

Semeion knew that the comment was rhetorical, but he still had enough bile inside his stomach with regard to what he believed to be the wizard’s summoning of an evil being.  He chose to answer the wizard’s rhetorical statement anyway.  “The offer is uninteresting to me.  I was an apprentice, once.  I find my own way through the power of magic.”

The wizard’s expression deflated.  “I feared that too much damage had already been done when Opheiluka came to me and told me of the guards.  That is why I had to arrange for that sham of a test outside.”

Charis raised an eyebrow as she listened to the wizard.  “You call the summoning of a being of pure evil a sham?  You call making us fight some sort of conjuration of evil a sham?”

The wizard rolled his eyes.  “How long will you all continue to doubt my magic?  What display do I need to give you to make you understand that the spell was a complex illusion?  If that was an actual evil presence, the city guard would be required to come and ask for my incarceration.  Even the guard themselves knew enough to not believe that I would actually summon an evil being!”

Charis objected once more.  “That still gives us no reason to trust you.”

The wizard interrupted Charis’ speech.  “But of course!  That is why I said at the beginning that I feared that too much damage had already been done for you to truly trust me.  The choices that Opheiluka made were suboptimal and that is obvious now.  I am sure that for the moment all we can do is make a business agreement that is free of the burden of obligation.  I have a need, and you have the ability to fulfill my need.  You have a need, and I have an ability to fulfill your need.  We can simply exchange abilities for each other.  Perhaps through that I might be able to regain the trust that Opheiluka destroyed?”

Ischarus focused on the wizard’s face.  “I already asked you outside to state what it is that we can do for you.  You told us then that the time was not right.  Is now an appropriate time?  If it is, then I would like to know what you seek from us so that we may accomplish it and leave with that for which we came.”

The wizard clapped his hands together several times and stood.  “Good!  Then it appears you are at least willing to exchange services.  What I need comes from a place few are skilled enough to tread.  But from what I understand through my research, you can obtain it.  I need a root grown in a specific forest in Quehalost.”

Rhema coughed in surprise.  “Quehalost?  What makes you think we can go into Quehalost?”

The wizard looked down to Rhema as though she were a young child trying to hide the truth.  “My dear Rhema, do not hide the truth from me.  You all do it so well, but you need not hide it from me.  I am sure that Opheiluka has told you that I am a master of knowledge.  I know that your party specializes in travel to Quehalost and returning with people to serve on your father’s villa.  Rest easy, of course.  Your secret is safe with me.  What good would having that knowledge do me if everyone else knew that same knowledge?  Knowledge is power, but only when you have the strength to keep important knowledge to yourself!”

The wizard’s eyes gleamed with a bright sparkle, as if the conversation were exciting him.  “I also know that this is no slaving operation that you all run.  You do it to bring peace and freedom to the land of Quehalost.  I also know that your last journey there was quite successful.  It even involved the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons, I do believe.”

Rhema dropped her glance to the floor.  She knew that the wizard knew more than she had hoped about them.  There was no use denying it any further.

The wizard continued.  “You see, the root that I need grows on the northernmost edge of Quehalost, not far from the area that you all have traveled through before.  If you would be willing to travel into Quehalost for me and retrieve this root, I would be most grateful.  Grateful enough, I should say, to arrange a meeting with a member of the Ephistaemi regarding the information that you so desperately need to know?”

Semeion smirked.  “Teleport us across the mountains to the place where the root is found and then bring us back.  The total trip shouldn’t take more than an hour, and we’ll collect pounds of the root you need.”

The wizard smiled innocently and shook his head.  “It doesn’t work that way, young mage.  I can surely teleport you across the mountains.  I can even bring you all back when you signal me.  But the area that I have previously found the root is in the grove of a particular druid.”

Ischarus and Rhema groaned simultaneously.  “Let me guess,” Ischarus began.  “The place is guarded by a druid who likes to manipulate the natural order of animals?  The druid likes to infuse animals with a higher intelligence, greater strength, or more agile step?”

The wizard’s face brightened with appreciation for Ischarus’ understanding.  “Indeed!  You are aware of the place I seek!  The root grows in the private grove of that very druid.  I would teleport you into the place directly, but his grove has protective magic woven through it.  I can get you close, however.”

Charis looked to her friends and smiled.  “I know the perfect place.”

The party spoke with the wizard for another ten or fifteen minutes about the specifics of the root and how to signal the wizard once their task had been completed.  As they spoke, the task seemed more and more legitimate and the party began to fear a trap less and less.  The wizard promised to arrange for room and board at the wizard’s college for some last minute training and reequipping.  They agreed that the expedition into Quehalost would leave in two day’s time.

As the party left, the wizard held out a hand to Ophee.  “My servant, stay with me for a second.”  The wizard closed the door when the party had exited the room.  “You will be going with them to Quehalost.”

Ophee’s face paled instantly.  “But, sir!  That land is dangerous, and I am needed in Fingerdale!”

The wizard held up a single finger and looked deep into Ophee’s eyes.  “Opheiluka, you have never rebelled against my wishes up to this point, and this is a bad time to begin to travel down that road.  You failed me earlier as you brought the party into Eberdeen.  You nearly spoiled what we have worked hard to find.  This party is one of only a few groups capable of finding the root.  Their trust in me and willingness to find the root for me was nearly ruined.  For that, you must be punished.  There is much you can learn from these four.  If you go with them, it will give you time to learn from them and think about what you almost cost me.  If you argue this point, I will increase your punishment.  Have I made myself clear?”

Ophee’s eyes dropped to the floor as though she were being reprimanded by her father.  “Yes, sir.  I will do as you wish, and learn what you ask.”

The wizard placed his hand gently under her chin.  He lifted her head softly upward until her eyes met his.  “Tell me why you have reached this conclusion, my Opheiluka.”  The wizard’s voice was soft and delicate, as if flowing with the sweetness of honey and the compassion of her mother.

Ophee smiled as their eyes met.  “To serve you better, master.  I live to serve you better.”

The wizard bent over the younger woman and kissed her on the forehead.  In his hands, she was nothing of the strong woman that had met the party at the _Shrouded Tenor_ and had come to them with great confidence on the site of the burned out villa.  She was putty in his delicate wizardly hands.  “Good, my dear Opheiluka.  Do not forget that fact.  You serve me well, but you can learn to serve me better.  I am glad you eventually saw it my way.  I can forget the confusion of doubt that momentarily crossed your mind.  I love you too much to desire to have to resort to punishing you.”

Ophee blushed hard, but was unable to look away from his eyes.  The wizard stroked her right cheek with the back of his free hand.  “Now go, Opheiluka.  Go and bond with the four.  Learn from them, and serve them well in Quehalost.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The teleport went smoothly, and it was a testimony to the power of the wizard to be able to teleport all six of the participants in a single maneuver. The entire party had gone willingly, although they were certainly cautious in regard to the potential for a trap.

Once they were inside the building, the wizard opened his arms wide and extended them toward an area with several high backed cushioned chairs. “Please,” the wizard began, “I’ll not have my guests be uncomfortable. You are in my care now, and I must apologize for the sincere amount of doubt that must have been cast upon my presence in the last few hours. Much of that doubt has been unfairly cast upon me by the lack of good decision making processes by my Opheiluka.”

The wizard looked towards Ophee with disappointment upon his face and continued to speak. “Not everyone in the city trusts the wizard’s college. You know that, I’m sure. Each of you has some form of magical ability and its application extends in various directions. You all know that there are circumstances in which magic is welcomed. But there are far more places in which the use of magic is much less welcomed. The city guard is one such location where magic is not always trusted.”

Rhema smiled politely. “Yet, Ophee told us that the city guard was familiar with you and your work.”

The wizard grimaced, but seemed to smile through it. “Ah, the proverbial snowball itself. If you stand atop a mountain and throw an innocent little snowball, there is potential for the snowball to pick up and collect more snow as it rolls down the face of the mountain. Only one in a million do not get stuck along the way, of course. But the one that manages to make it the whole way down the mountain collecting snow is a monster by the time it reaches the bottom. Yet it still remains a simple snowball that has gotten out of control.”

The wizard sat down once his guests – Ophee included – had found chairs for themselves and were comfortable. “So it is with that simple miscalculation. Opheiluka had a decision to make, and she thought that it would be best to not assume that these guards appreciated what the wizard’s college does for their life. She believed she had control of the situation and wanted to keep you out of the equation. In that respect, I will give her credit. She knows the guards much more than any of you, I presume. By giving you the impression that she had control of the situation, she minimized the possibility of introducing you all as random variables that could have upset her ability to control the situation.”

Semeion smiled as he listened to the wizard. He was clearly enjoying the multi-layered explanation upon explanation. He knew that the truth was somewhere in the midst of the stories and it was only a matter of digging deep enough to reach the truth. “Yet she was already playing damage control, then? Was that her great mistake? Once she realized that we were going to be met by the guards she began to perform damage control and assume the worst. She had, then, already admitted defeat and was simply trying to maintain the absolute essence of her plan.”

The wizard’s eyes sparkled as Semeion spoke. “Now, with that conclusion you would make an astonishing apprentice of mine!”

Semeion knew that the comment was rhetorical, but he still had enough bile inside his stomach with regard to what he believed to be the wizard’s summoning of an evil being. He chose to answer the wizard’s rhetorical statement anyway. “The offer is uninteresting to me. I was an apprentice, once. I find my own way through the power of magic.”

The wizard’s expression deflated. “I feared that too much damage had already been done when Opheiluka came to me and told me of the guards. That is why I had to arrange for that sham of a test outside.”

Charis raised an eyebrow as she listened to the wizard. “You call the summoning of a being of pure evil a sham? You call making us fight some sort of conjuration of evil a sham?”

The wizard rolled his eyes. “How long will you all continue to doubt my magic? What display do I need to give you to make you understand that the spell was a complex illusion? If that was an actual evil presence, the city guard would be required to come and ask for my incarceration. Even the guard themselves knew enough to not believe that I would actually summon an evil being!”

Charis objected once more. “That still gives us no reason to trust you.”

The wizard interrupted Charis’ speech. “But of course! That is why I said at the beginning that I feared that too much damage had already been done for you to truly trust me. The choices that Opheiluka made were suboptimal and that is obvious now. I am sure that for the moment all we can do is make a business agreement that is free of the burden of obligation. I have a need, and you have the ability to fulfill my need. You have a need, and I have an ability to fulfill your need. We can simply exchange abilities for each other. Perhaps through that I might be able to regain the trust that Opheiluka destroyed?”

Ischarus focused on the wizard’s face. “I already asked you outside to state what it is that we can do for you. You told us then that the time was not right. Is now an appropriate time? If it is, then I would like to know what you seek from us so that we may accomplish it and leave with that for which we came.”

The wizard clapped his hands together several times and stood. “Good! Then it appears you are at least willing to exchange services. What I need comes from a place few are skilled enough to tread. But from what I understand through my research, you can obtain it. I need a root grown in a specific forest in Quehalost.”

Rhema coughed in surprise. “Quehalost? What makes you think we can go into Quehalost?”

The wizard looked down to Rhema as though she were a young child trying to hide the truth. “My dear Rhema, do not hide the truth from me. You all do it so well, but you need not hide it from me. I am sure that Opheiluka has told you that I am a master of knowledge. I know that your party specializes in travel to Quehalost and returning with people to serve on your father’s villa. Rest easy, of course. Your secret is safe with me. What good would having that knowledge do me if everyone else knew that same knowledge? Knowledge is power, but only when you have the strength to keep important knowledge to yourself!”

The wizard’s eyes gleamed with a bright sparkle, as if the conversation were exciting him. “I also know that this is no slaving operation that you all run. You do it to bring peace and freedom to the land of Quehalost. I also know that your last journey there was quite successful. It even involved the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons, I do believe.”

Rhema dropped her glance to the floor. She knew that the wizard knew more than she had hoped about them. There was no use denying it any further.

The wizard continued. “You see, the root that I need grows on the northernmost edge of Quehalost, not far from the area that you all have traveled through before. If you would be willing to travel into Quehalost for me and retrieve this root, I would be most grateful. Grateful enough, I should say, to arrange a meeting with a member of the Ephistaemi regarding the information that you so desperately need to know?”

Semeion smirked. “Teleport us across the mountains to the place where the root is found and then bring us back. The total trip shouldn’t take more than an hour, and we’ll collect pounds of the root you need.”

The wizard smiled innocently and shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way, young mage. I can surely teleport you across the mountains. I can even bring you all back when you signal me. But the area that I have previously found the root is in the grove of a particular druid.”

Ischarus and Rhema groaned simultaneously. “Let me guess,” Ischarus began. “The place is guarded by a druid who likes to manipulate the natural order of animals? The druid likes to infuse animals with a higher intelligence, greater strength, or more agile step?”

The wizard’s face brightened with appreciation for Ischarus’ understanding. “Indeed! You are aware of the place I seek! The root grows in the private grove of that very druid. I would teleport you into the place directly, but his grove has protective magic woven through it. I can get you close, however.”

Charis looked to her friends and smiled. “I know the perfect place.”

The party spoke with the wizard for another ten or fifteen minutes about the specifics of the root and how to signal the wizard once their task had been completed. As they spoke, the task seemed more and more legitimate and the party began to fear a trap less and less. The wizard promised to arrange for room and board at the wizard’s college for some last minute training and reequipping. They agreed that the expedition into Quehalost would leave in two day’s time.

As the party left, the wizard held out a hand to Ophee. “My servant, stay with me for a second.” The wizard closed the door when the party had exited the room. “You will be going with them to Quehalost.”

Ophee’s face paled instantly. “But, sir! That land is dangerous, and I am needed in Fingerdale!”

The wizard held up a single finger and looked deep into Ophee’s eyes. “Opheiluka, you have never rebelled against my wishes up to this point, and this is a bad time to begin to travel down that road. You failed me earlier as you brought the party into Eberdeen. You nearly spoiled what we have worked hard to find. This party is one of only a few groups capable of finding the root. Their trust in me and willingness to find the root for me was nearly ruined. For that, you must be punished. There is much you can learn from these four. If you go with them, it will give you time to learn from them and think about what you almost cost me. If you argue this point, I will increase your punishment. Have I made myself clear?”

Ophee’s eyes dropped to the floor as though she were being reprimanded by her father. “Yes, sir. I will do as you wish, and learn what you ask.”

The wizard placed his hand gently under her chin. He lifted her head softly upward until her eyes met his. “Tell me why you have reached this conclusion, my Opheiluka.” The wizard’s voice was soft and delicate, as if flowing with the sweetness of honey and the compassion of her mother.

Ophee smiled as their eyes met. “To serve you better, master. I live to serve you better.”

The wizard bent over the younger woman and kissed her on the forehead. In his hands, she was nothing of the strong woman that had met the party at the Shrouded Tenor and had come to them with great confidence on the site of the burned out villa. She was putty in his delicate wizardly hands. “Good, my dear Opheiluka. Do not forget that fact. You serve me well, but you can learn to serve me better. I am glad you eventually saw it my way. I can forget the confusion of doubt that momentarily crossed your mind. I love you too much to desire to have to resort to punishing you.”

Ophee blushed hard, but was unable to look away from his eyes. The wizard stroked her right cheek with the back of his free hand. “Now go, Opheiluka. Go and bond with the four. Learn from them, and serve them well in Quehalost.” [/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 16, 2007)

*Chapter Five: THE COMPLETE OUTLANDISHNESS OF THEM ALL*

The two days of training and equipping passed quickly and before the party could realize where the time had gone they found themselves voluntarily on the southern edge of the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains.  Charis had convinced them that the safest place to blindly teleport into would be her old village.  She wanted to see how the land had changed and grown up without her Drakontai kin to manage the land.  She had expected it to be considerably wilder than how she had left it.

The party was not disappointed.  In many respects, Quehalost was just as much home as anywhere else.  Of course it was dangerous and things were always a bit on the wilder side, but there were certain familiarities here as well.

Everyone except Ophee relaxed when they saw the circle of huts materializing before their eyes.  Ophee found it difficult to regain the confidence that she could normally count upon.  It was one thing to work with the civilized population of Fingerdale; but it was entirely a different matter to deal with the uncivilized wiles of Quehalost.  There were no rules here except survival.  Everything would do what it took to survive.  She knew that every fight would be for life.

Charis turned a full circle as she looked upon her old homeland.  Out of habit, she lifted her eyes to the platform that had once been the perch for her father dragon.  It was now vacant, and it even looked as if it were a void upon the land.  Charis sighed, but it was not a mournful sigh.  There was a smile upon her face even in the midst of the sigh.

Semeion wrapped his arm around her back and rested his hand upon her far hip.  “Miss it, Charis?”

Charis smiled in amusement.  “Yes, but not in the way that you think.  I don’t miss life here.  I miss the land.  I miss the forest.  I miss the little stream that we used to bathe in.  I miss the field over the hill that we used for hunting deer and other small game.  I miss the land, but not necessarily the life I lived here under my dragon father.”

Ophee shook her head in disbelief.  “But there is so little control here.  There is so little safety.  How could you sleep at night?”

Charis laughed and pointed up to the dark void that used to house the red wyrm.  “We had a dragon to protect us.  I know that he was a red dragon, and they’re known for being violent and wrathful.  But in terms of protecting us, he was fervent in his defense.  We were his, and as far as he was concerned nothing would take what belonged to him so long as he lived.”

Rhema and Ischarus exchanged smiles, and Ischarus spoke the thought that they had passed between them without the need for words.  “Until a few novitiates like us came through and pulled the wool over his eyes.”

Charis looked back toward Ischarus.  “Novitiates?  Do you even know what that means?  What, have you been studying under Semeion or something?”

Ischarus laughed.  “It’s a word I picked up at the wizard’s college.  They kept referring to me as a novitiate mage.  There is no hiding that my casting ability is less than a true wizard and that I focus more on my blade.  At the same time, I’ll probably always be a novitiate in their eyes.”

Semeion shook his head in amusement.  “I would not call your or Rhema novitiates in Quehalost, though.  I’m not sure a person exists in Tongra that can do what the two of you did for a few years before meeting me.”

Rhema had wandered a few paces away from the party and she reached out to touch the smooth sacrificial stone at the center of the village.  She changed the topic of the conversation as her hand felt the coolness of the stone.  “Well, the good news is that there doesn’t seem to be any sign of people left behind.  And it doesn’t look like a legitimate presence has taken control over the land, either.”

Semeion moved toward Rhema, and Ophee followed him.  Her curiosity was getting the better of her and the conversation about Ischarus’ and Rhema’s skill regarding Quehalost had helped to calm her nerves.  “So we are safe?”

Semeion rested a hand upon her shoulder.  “As safe as anyone can be in Quehalost.  You’re stuck with us, Ophee.  But if you stick with us, do what we say, and trust us I can say that you’ll be as safe as can be in this land.”

When Semeion moved to Rhema, Ischarus and Charis drew their weapons and began to check the perimeter of the village.  Ischarus called out from the edge using a calm tone.  “The residents to the east are aware of the vacancy of the dragon.  I’ve found tracks from a scouting party or two.  As suspicious as they are, they are likely held back by the mysterious disappearance of the dragon.  They’ll be unlikely to claim this land too quickly until they can understand why the dragon and his people left.  They’re likely to never figure it out, however.”

Charis called out from the other side of the village.  The village was certainly small enough for her to hear Ischarus’ earlier comments.  “We’ve always known them to be cautious.  They don’t like to expand too much, because it draws attention to themselves.  The more attention they draw, the less they’ll be able to live in the quiet that they desire.  I suspect you’ve found tracks of a hunting party out to find meat.  When we had clashes with them it was often over the hunt and the natural prey within the land.  With my people and my father dragon gone, I have no doubt they’ve begun to hunt the land.  They can come and go as they please that way.”

Ophee looked long and hard at the stone.  “Is that covered in blood?”

Rhema nodded.  “This is a different land.  Sacrifices equal protection, here.  You sacrifice something to appease a higher power that has the ability to protect you.  Chances are that if we are caught, we could end up on a stone altar such as this.  Stick close and do what we say.  You’ll be fine.”

Semeion looked to the horizon.  He was scanning the sky in search of potential enemies.  With a vacant perch and an undiscovered horde, this would be a prime spot to welcome another dragon looking to stake a claim for power among his kind.  “I would suspect that what you say is true, Rhema.  Except for the land for which we are headed.  I doubt the druid will offer us up as a sacrifice to the gods that he serves.  My guess is that if we were to be sacrificed to anything it would be as dinner for his creatures.”

Ophee’s face paled at the sudden change of conversation.  “No offense, but you all aren’t exactly painting a pretty picture, here.”

Rhema smiled as though she enjoyed scaring Ophee.  “No offense taken.  But it isn’t exactly a pretty picture to paint.  Now you know why it was that your master was so upset at the fact that we lost trust in him by the way in which we were introduced to Eberdeen.  If we weren’t willing to travel into Quehalost for him, there aren’t many others who would.  He would likely have needed to come into this dangerous land himself.  For a wizard of the college, that possibility could not be very appealing.”

Ischarus approached from the other side of the stone as introduced himself into the conversation.  He and Charis had made a perimeter search and found few reasons to suspect that the area would not be relatively safe.  “So what kind of creatures do you suspect that we’ll find?  I know that the ghostly figure we met our last time through here called them phrenic.  What do you suppose that means?”

Rhema looked her husband in the eye and smirked.  “It likely means that you’ll be facing the same power that you married.  The word phrenic simply means something that pertains to the mind.  As we guessed earlier in the wizard’s college, these creatures are likely going to be pretty intelligent.  They might even be able to naturally duplicate some of my abilities.  I would suspect that our opponents will use intelligent tactics and their attacks may come without warning.  You all will get a taste of what others feel when I fight against them.”

Semeion completed his scan of the horizon.  “I know that it is early still, but might I suggest we spend a day here?  I’d like to get a feel for the place around us before we immediately strike out to the east.  Besides, here we have shelter, and this may be the last time that we have this luxury until we return.  We could spend the night rather unnoticed.”

Rhema agreed.  “We’ll lose the rest of the day, and that is several hours of traveling.  But I think the sentiment is wise.  If we leave in the morning we’ll make much better use of our time tomorrow.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Five: THE COMPLETE OUTLANDISHNESS OF THEM ALL

The two days of training and equipping passed quickly and before the party could realize where the time had gone they found themselves voluntarily on the southern edge of the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains. Charis had convinced them that the safest place to blindly teleport into would be her old village. She wanted to see how the land had changed and grown up without her Drakontai kin to manage the land. She had expected it to be considerably wilder than how she had left it.

The party was not disappointed. In many respects, Quehalost was just as much home as anywhere else. Of course it was dangerous and things were always a bit on the wilder side, but there were certain familiarities here as well.

Everyone except Ophee relaxed when they saw the circle of huts materializing before their eyes. Ophee found it difficult to regain the confidence that she could normally count upon. It was one thing to work with the civilized population of Fingerdale; but it was entirely a different matter to deal with the uncivilized wiles of Quehalost. There were no rules here except survival. Everything would do what it took to survive. She knew that every fight would be for life.

Charis turned a full circle as she looked upon her old homeland. Out of habit, she lifted her eyes to the platform that had once been the perch for her father dragon. It was now vacant, and it even looked as if it were a void upon the land. Charis sighed, but it was not a mournful sigh. There was a smile upon her face even in the midst of the sigh.

Semeion wrapped his arm around her back and rested his hand upon her far hip. “Miss it, Charis?”

Charis smiled in amusement. “Yes, but not in the way that you think. I don’t miss life here. I miss the land. I miss the forest. I miss the little stream that we used to bathe in. I miss the field over the hill that we used for hunting deer and other small game. I miss the land, but not necessarily the life I lived here under my dragon father.”

Ophee shook her head in disbelief. “But there is so little control here. There is so little safety. How could you sleep at night?”

Charis laughed and pointed up to the dark void that used to house the red wyrm. “We had a dragon to protect us. I know that he was a red dragon, and they’re known for being violent and wrathful. But in terms of protecting us, he was fervent in his defense. We were his, and as far as he was concerned nothing would take what belonged to him so long as he lived.”

Rhema and Ischarus exchanged smiles, and Ischarus spoke the thought that they had passed between them without the need for words. “Until a few novitiates like us came through and pulled the wool over his eyes.”

Charis looked back toward Ischarus. “Novitiates? Do you even know what that means? What, have you been studying under Semeion or something?”

Ischarus laughed. “It’s a word I picked up at the wizard’s college. They kept referring to me as a novitiate mage. There is no hiding that my casting ability is less than a true wizard and that I focus more on my blade. At the same time, I’ll probably always be a novitiate in their eyes.”

Semeion shook his head in amusement. “I would not call your or Rhema novitiates in Quehalost, though. I’m not sure a person exists in Tongra that can do what the two of you did for a few years before meeting me.”

Rhema had wandered a few paces away from the party and she reached out to touch the smooth sacrificial stone at the center of the village. She changed the topic of the conversation as her hand felt the coolness of the stone. “Well, the good news is that there doesn’t seem to be any sign of people left behind. And it doesn’t look like a legitimate presence has taken control over the land, either.”

Semeion moved toward Rhema, and Ophee followed him. Her curiosity was getting the better of her and the conversation about Ischarus’ and Rhema’s skill regarding Quehalost had helped to calm her nerves. “So we are safe?”

Semeion rested a hand upon her shoulder. “As safe as anyone can be in Quehalost. You’re stuck with us, Ophee. But if you stick with us, do what we say, and trust us I can say that you’ll be as safe as can be in this land.”

When Semeion moved to Rhema, Ischarus and Charis drew their weapons and began to check the perimeter of the village. Ischarus called out from the edge using a calm tone. “The residents to the east are aware of the vacancy of the dragon. I’ve found tracks from a scouting party or two. As suspicious as they are, they are likely held back by the mysterious disappearance of the dragon. They’ll be unlikely to claim this land too quickly until they can understand why the dragon and his people left. They’re likely to never figure it out, however.”

Charis called out from the other side of the village. The village was certainly small enough for her to hear Ischarus’ earlier comments. “We’ve always known them to be cautious. They don’t like to expand too much, because it draws attention to themselves. The more attention they draw, the less they’ll be able to live in the quiet that they desire. I suspect you’ve found tracks of a hunting party out to find meat. When we had clashes with them it was often over the hunt and the natural prey within the land. With my people and my father dragon gone, I have no doubt they’ve begun to hunt the land. They can come and go as they please that way.”

Ophee looked long and hard at the stone. “Is that covered in blood?”

Rhema nodded. “This is a different land. Sacrifices equal protection, here. You sacrifice something to appease a higher power that has the ability to protect you. Chances are that if we are caught, we could end up on a stone altar such as this. Stick close and do what we say. You’ll be fine.”

Semeion looked to the horizon. He was scanning the sky in search of potential enemies. With a vacant perch and an undiscovered horde, this would be a prime spot to welcome another dragon looking to stake a claim for power among his kind. “I would suspect that what you say is true, Rhema. Except for the land for which we are headed. I doubt the druid will offer us up as a sacrifice to the gods that he serves. My guess is that if we were to be sacrificed to anything it would be as dinner for his creatures.”

Ophee’s face paled at the sudden change of conversation. “No offense, but you all aren’t exactly painting a pretty picture, here.”

Rhema smiled as though she enjoyed scaring Ophee. “No offense taken. But it isn’t exactly a pretty picture to paint. Now you know why it was that your master was so upset at the fact that we lost trust in him by the way in which we were introduced to Eberdeen. If we weren’t willing to travel into Quehalost for him, there aren’t many others who would. He would likely have needed to come into this dangerous land himself. For a wizard of the college, that possibility could not be very appealing.”

Ischarus approached from the other side of the stone as introduced himself into the conversation. He and Charis had made a perimeter search and found few reasons to suspect that the area would not be relatively safe. “So what kind of creatures do you suspect that we’ll find? I know that the ghostly figure we met our last time through here called them phrenic. What do you suppose that means?”

Rhema looked her husband in the eye and smirked. “It likely means that you’ll be facing the same power that you married. The word phrenic simply means something that pertains to the mind. As we guessed earlier in the wizard’s college, these creatures are likely going to be pretty intelligent. They might even be able to naturally duplicate some of my abilities. I would suspect that our opponents will use intelligent tactics and their attacks may come without warning. You all will get a taste of what others feel when I fight against them.”

Semeion completed his scan of the horizon. “I know that it is early still, but might I suggest we spend a day here? I’d like to get a feel for the place around us before we immediately strike out to the east. Besides, here we have shelter, and this may be the last time that we have this luxury until we return. We could spend the night rather unnoticed.”

Rhema agreed. “We’ll lose the rest of the day, and that is several hours of traveling. But I think the sentiment is wise. If we leave in the morning we’ll make much better use of our time tomorrow.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Mar 20, 2007)

The party left Charis’ homeland behind them as the sun was rising above the treetops.  They had decided to rest in one of the abandoned cabins around the sacrificing stone and had thus been able to block the windows to seal out the light.  Once the light was able to be blocked, they were able to convince their bodies that it was nighttime and had gotten an early start on sleep.  With several hours of sleep under their belt before the sun actually went down, they were able to rise in the morning quite refreshed and with several hours of darkness to cover their travel.

Under the cover of darkness, the party made good time in reaching the edge of the land that was once controlled by the red wyrm.  Ischarus wanted to travel next to the mountains as they moved through the next domain to the east.  He had wanted to travel next to the mountains the last time they were through this land, but the light-gray figure that they had met had other plans for them.  This time, he would keep the mountains to one side.  The mountains would help minimize the potential for ambush.

The party made good time and passed through the land unchallenged.  By nightfall they arrived at the entrance to the mountains that they had used the last time entering Quehalost.  According to the directions given by the ghostly figure, this meant that they were transitioning into the druid’s land.  There would be no telling what they could expect from here on until their mission was complete.

The party camped and set watches for the night.  They decided to pull double duty and post a double watch.  They had an extra person available for the watches, and it was unlikely that Ophee was in a position to not be trusted.  If she were to do anything to the party, she would be stranded in Quehalost.  If she were stranded without the party, she’d likely wind up dead before another sunset.

Morning came quickly for the party.  The prior day’s journey had tired them and they had slept well.  As they headed into the sunrise and to the east, it didn’t take long to realize that they were being watched.  It started with an eerie feeling, not unlike the feeling that they had before they discovered the ghostly figure.  They continued to travel toward the east as if they were unaware of the fact that they were being watched.  

After traveling for another twenty minutes, they intentionally passed into an area where the vegetation was not quite as thick.  They had long been suspicious that the being that was keeping tabs on them was hiding high above them in the trees.  When the vegetation thinned, it became easier to discover the presence behind their suspicion.

The creature following them was at least smart enough to realize what the party was doing.  However, rather than keep itself hidden, the creature decided to challenge the party.  A large ape swung out of a nearby tree and let out a shrill cry for battle.  Spittle flew out of its mouth as it yelled, and the creature exposed his sharp fangs.  Its canine teeth looked quite capable of sinking deep within the flesh of its opponents.

The ape beat its breast and called out once more.  This cry was not nearly projected as much as the one before.  At the conclusion of the cry, a glimmer appeared for an instant before the ape.  The beast snarled and peered directly into Rhema’s eyes.

Rhema returned the glare as her mind identified the effect.  “This ape’s advanced!  We’ve got the right land, that’s for sure.  My guess is that the first call was for help.  The second call must have been a trained response to bring up some kind of barrier.  Expect it to fight with a shield in ways that you don’t expect!”

Ischarus drew his sword.  Rhema’s challenge was an outlet for tension that had been building for over a day now.  Charis joined him by drawing her trusty pick.  They exchanged smiles and knew the plan.

Before Ischarus and Charis could charge, Rhema decided to make one desperate challenge.  If it worked, it would alleviate the need for combat altogether.  She locked her eyes with those of the beast.  The ape seemed willing to focus on her.  “You do not need to challenge us, creature of the forest.  We have not come to harm you; we have only come for a root specimen.  It is a plant we seek, not your destruction.”

Ophee snickered as Rhema spoke.  When Rhema was finished, Ophee asked a question.  “Do you actually think that it understood you?”

Rhema smiled as she continued to hold the creature’s stare.  “Words are often not the most important part of communication.  The ape can understand me.”

She couldn’t have timed her words to any greater perfection.  The ape shrieked and howled and beat its breasts once more.  It slowly leaned forward and screamed a war cry in the direction of the party.

Ischarus allowed a grin to pass from ear to ear.  “Apparently it can, Rhema!”  His legs leapt into motion and he quickly closed the distance between himself and the ape.  The beast took a swing towards Ischarus, but Ischarus ducked upon the swing and brought his own sword up hard against the creature.  A small patch of static crackled along the edge of his blade as his sword pierced the magical barrier protecting the ape.  In spite of the protective barrier, Ischarus managed to land a solid blow against the ape.

Semeion smiled as Ischarus’ attack landed.  “Ayal nuan.”  A gray cloud formed over both of Semeion’s shoulders.  With a smile he gestured toward the ape.  “Stick the fury beast.”

As if the gaseous cloud were responding to Semeion’s command, a blade shot forward out of the cloud as if shot from a bow.  The head of the blade spun as it streaked towards the ape and landed.  The blade caught the beast solidly in the chest and punctured deep.  Red blood began to pour out of the creature’s chest.

Charis was quick to follow Ischarus’ assault.  Semeion’s magical attack flashed over her shoulder as Charis moved to attack the ape from the opposite side as Ischarus had attacked.  Her pick sliced through the air and caught the ape from behind.  The ape howled in pain as Charis penetrated the creature’s hide and then withdrew the point in preparation for another attack.

In pain, the beast spun around and unleashed a vicious attack against Charis.  It attacked with a serious assault from its claws.  Both claws flashed across Charis face and cut deep gashes along both cheeks.  The creature’s claws were so nasty that after finishing slashing up Charis’ face they moved on to her shoulders.  

Charis cried out in pain as her skin tore.  She dropped to her knees in an attempt to catch her breath and regain her focus.  Her chest labored as her mind attempted to block out the pain.

Rhema knew that another attack from the creature would tear Charis completely in half.  As it were, she was still able to heal her own wounds through magic.  Rhema allowed anger to rise up from her gut and fill her mind with its rage.  She thrust the anger towards the ape and allowed the creature to feel the effect.  

In spite of its enhanced mental ability, the creature was no match for Rhema’s mental assault.  The beast howled as its oversized palms wrapped around its head.  It fell to its knees and slipped onto its side.  It lay nearly motionless.  The only detectable movement was that of a shallow breathing.

Semeion charged to Charis’ side in order to check if she was alright.  “Charis?  Are you okay?”  His hand struck out to meet those of his wife.  He didn’t notice that her hands were wet with her own blood.

Charis cried in pain, but forced the healing magic to surge upward through her arms and into her hands.  As painful as it was, she forced herself to embrace her wounds.  The pain from the touch was brutal until the warmth of her magic sealed the wounds.  Enough magic poured through her hands to ensure that her flesh sealed without leaving a scar.  The pain would no doubt remain for hours, if not days.  However, she would eventually show no scar.

Rhema approached the beast as its enormous body lay upon the ground.  “It will live if we leave it here.  It isn’t dying, simply unconscious.  But this is only the beginning of what we can expect.  I would imagine that most of the creatures we face will be able to shield themselves.  That is one of the most basic of mental projections.  I’ve heard of beings who can teach animals to accomplish it, but this is the first time I’ve seen actual proof.”

Ophee breathed in deeply.  In this battle, she had frozen.  Fortunately, they hadn’t needed her.  But there could be no doubt.  Quehalost would take her life without regret if she let her guard down.  She’d frozen once.  If she froze again it might mean the end of her.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party left Charis’ homeland behind them as the sun was rising above the treetops. They had decided to rest in one of the abandoned cabins around the sacrificing stone and had thus been able to block the windows to seal out the light. Once the light was able to be blocked, they were able to convince their bodies that it was nighttime and had gotten an early start on sleep. With several hours of sleep under their belt before the sun actually went down, they were able to rise in the morning quite refreshed and with several hours of darkness to cover their travel.

Under the cover of darkness, the party made good time in reaching the edge of the land that was once controlled by the red wyrm. Ischarus wanted to travel next to the mountains as they moved through the next domain to the east. He had wanted to travel next to the mountains the last time they were through this land, but the light-gray figure that they had met had other plans for them. This time, he would keep the mountains to one side. The mountains would help minimize the potential for ambush.

The party made good time and passed through the land unchallenged. By nightfall they arrived at the entrance to the mountains that they had used the last time entering Quehalost. According to the directions given by the ghostly figure, this meant that they were transitioning into the druid’s land. There would be no telling what they could expect from here on until their mission was complete.

The party camped and set watches for the night. They decided to pull double duty and post a double watch. They had an extra person available for the watches, and it was unlikely that Ophee was in a position to not be trusted. If she were to do anything to the party, she would be stranded in Quehalost. If she were stranded without the party, she’d likely wind up dead before another sunset.

Morning came quickly for the party. The prior day’s journey had tired them and they had slept well. As they headed into the sunrise and to the east, it didn’t take long to realize that they were being watched. It started with an eerie feeling, not unlike the feeling that they had before they discovered the ghostly figure. They continued to travel toward the east as if they were unaware of the fact that they were being watched. 

After traveling for another twenty minutes, they intentionally passed into an area where the vegetation was not quite as thick. They had long been suspicious that the being that was keeping tabs on them was hiding high above them in the trees. When the vegetation thinned, it became easier to discover the presence behind their suspicion.

The creature following them was at least smart enough to realize what the party was doing. However, rather than keep itself hidden, the creature decided to challenge the party. A large ape swung out of a nearby tree and let out a shrill cry for battle. Spittle flew out of its mouth as it yelled, and the creature exposed his sharp fangs. Its canine teeth looked quite capable of sinking deep within the flesh of its opponents.

The ape beat its breast and called out once more. This cry was not nearly projected as much as the one before. At the conclusion of the cry, a glimmer appeared for an instant before the ape. The beast snarled and peered directly into Rhema’s eyes.

Rhema returned the glare as her mind identified the effect. “This ape’s advanced! We’ve got the right land, that’s for sure. My guess is that the first call was for help. The second call must have been a trained response to bring up some kind of barrier. Expect it to fight with a shield in ways that you don’t expect!”

Ischarus drew his sword. Rhema’s challenge was an outlet for tension that had been building for over a day now. Charis joined him by drawing her trusty pick. They exchanged smiles and knew the plan.

Before Ischarus and Charis could charge, Rhema decided to make one desperate challenge. If it worked, it would alleviate the need for combat altogether. She locked her eyes with those of the beast. The ape seemed willing to focus on her. “You do not need to challenge us, creature of the forest. We have not come to harm you; we have only come for a root specimen. It is a plant we seek, not your destruction.”

Ophee snickered as Rhema spoke. When Rhema was finished, Ophee asked a question. “Do you actually think that it understood you?”

Rhema smiled as she continued to hold the creature’s stare. “Words are often not the most important part of communication. The ape can understand me.”

She couldn’t have timed her words to any greater perfection. The ape shrieked and howled and beat its breasts once more. It slowly leaned forward and screamed a war cry in the direction of the party.

Ischarus allowed a grin to pass from ear to ear. “Apparently it can, Rhema!” His legs leapt into motion and he quickly closed the distance between himself and the ape. The beast took a swing towards Ischarus, but Ischarus ducked upon the swing and brought his own sword up hard against the creature. A small patch of static crackled along the edge of his blade as his sword pierced the magical barrier protecting the ape. In spite of the protective barrier, Ischarus managed to land a solid blow against the ape.

Semeion smiled as Ischarus’ attack landed. “Ayal nuan.” A gray cloud formed over both of Semeion’s shoulders. With a smile he gestured toward the ape. “Stick the fury beast.”

As if the gaseous cloud were responding to Semeion’s command, a blade shot forward out of the cloud as if shot from a bow. The head of the blade spun as it streaked towards the ape and landed. The blade caught the beast solidly in the chest and punctured deep. Red blood began to pour out of the creature’s chest.

Charis was quick to follow Ischarus’ assault. Semeion’s magical attack flashed over her shoulder as Charis moved to attack the ape from the opposite side as Ischarus had attacked. Her pick sliced through the air and caught the ape from behind. The ape howled in pain as Charis penetrated the creature’s hide and then withdrew the point in preparation for another attack.

In pain, the beast spun around and unleashed a vicious attack against Charis. It attacked with a serious assault from its claws. Both claws flashed across Charis face and cut deep gashes along both cheeks. The creature’s claws were so nasty that after finishing slashing up Charis’ face they moved on to her shoulders. 

Charis cried out in pain as her skin tore. She dropped to her knees in an attempt to catch her breath and regain her focus. Her chest labored as her mind attempted to block out the pain.

Rhema knew that another attack from the creature would tear Charis completely in half. As it were, she was still able to heal her own wounds through magic. Rhema allowed anger to rise up from her gut and fill her mind with its rage. She thrust the anger towards the ape and allowed the creature to feel the effect. 

In spite of its enhanced mental ability, the creature was no match for Rhema’s mental assault. The beast howled as its oversized palms wrapped around its head. It fell to its knees and slipped onto its side. It lay nearly motionless. The only detectable movement was that of a shallow breathing.

Semeion charged to Charis’ side in order to check if she was alright. “Charis? Are you okay?” His hand struck out to meet those of his wife. He didn’t notice that her hands were wet with her own blood.

Charis cried in pain, but forced the healing magic to surge upward through her arms and into her hands. As painful as it was, she forced herself to embrace her wounds. The pain from the touch was brutal until the warmth of her magic sealed the wounds. Enough magic poured through her hands to ensure that her flesh sealed without leaving a scar. The pain would no doubt remain for hours, if not days. However, she would eventually show no scar.

Rhema approached the beast as its enormous body lay upon the ground. “It will live if we leave it here. It isn’t dying, simply unconscious. But this is only the beginning of what we can expect. I would imagine that most of the creatures we face will be able to shield themselves. That is one of the most basic of mental projections. I’ve heard of beings who can teach animals to accomplish it, but this is the first time I’ve seen actual proof.”

Ophee breathed in deeply. In this battle, she had frozen. Fortunately, they hadn’t needed her. But there could be no doubt. Quehalost would take her life without regret if she let her guard down. She’d frozen once. If she froze again it might mean the end of her. [/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Mar 22, 2007)

Charis looked into the forest.  “I wonder how long we’ll have until the next one?”

Ischarus breathed in deep and listened to the wind.  “Well, if the first call that the creature gave out was any indication, I don’t think it will be long.  The call before the one that brought up the magical barrier was definitely one for alarm.”

Semeion turned and looked at the fallen beast.  He knew it would live.  Hopefully they would be long gone before it recovered.  “I’ve read that many primates actually will use a call as an alarm when intruders enter their area.  This one certainly was trained enough to not call immediately, but only when it felt it was necessary to fight.”

Semeion was barely able to complete his thought when a blur made up of light brown and blue flashed by his face.  His shoulder immediately throbbed in pain as two fangs jabbed through the skin and drew blood.  His head turned and saw that he was being attacked by a very large baboon.  The baboon easily weighed over one hundred and forty pounds and when it stood it was almost five feet in height.  The creature bounced of Semeion and hopped to its feet.

From above the party in a set of trees, another baboon leapt into the air.  This baboon crashed to the earth on top of Rhema.  It was almost as if the baboons were intelligent enough to know which party members to assault.  Semeion and Rhema were clearly the weakest of the party and would go down first.  Yet, Rhema was able to evade the blow from above as she rolled out of the way.

As she rolled back onto her feet, Rhema drew out her crystal sword.  The blade hummed with its own psychic energy within.  Rhema sliced through the air with the edge of the blade, but her sword bounced off of an invisible barrier in front of the baboon.  In her mind, Rhema heard the mutterings of the scarlet crystal that she had come to know intimately since it had called out to her from within Braagh’s case at the _Translucent Corymb_.  “This one already has its defenses up.  We’ve been ambushed!”

Rhema took no time in relaying the message.  “The baboons are advanced and prepared!  They were waiting for the right time to attack!”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife and swung hard with his sword.  His blade had not yet been sheathed since the end of the assault by the ape.  However, the hurry to come to her aid made his aim less than stellar.  The baboon hardly needed to move to evade the blow.

Charis’ blow against the same baboon didn’t miss its mark.  She desired to rush to Semeion’s aid, but she knew that if she helped Ischarus by fighting from the opposite side of the baboon that they would finish the battle more quickly.  While her pick sunk into the flesh of the baboon and left a slice along the creature’s leg, Charis yelled out instructions to her husband.  “Just don’t get hit, we’ll be there in a second!”

The baboon that had originally attacked Rhema now found itself surrounded.  Ischarus and Charis fought from opposite sides while Rhema attacked from Ischarus’ flank.  The beast had no outlet but to try and fight madly and bring down the weakest of the trio.  It lunged forward in an attempt to bite Rhema, but she was able to duck and dodge again to avoid being hit.

In spite of her defensive posturing, Rhema was able to manage to land a clean strike against the creature.  Her crystalline friend shouted victoriously at the strike, praising her in her mind for managing to slip past the baboon’s invisible barrier.  Had she not been quite so defensive, Rhema had a chance to strike at one of the creature’s vital organs.  Instead, she merely left a bloody streak across the baboon’s belly.  She had only grazed the skin.

Ischarus had enough of the baboon’s attacks.  “Thin Zecka Egro.”  He called out the magical words as he lined up a massive strike against the baboon.  His sword flashed through the air and landed with considerable aim.  

The blow itself would not have been enough to drop the baboon.  As the sword cut into the creature’s shoulder, light green electricity jumped out of his fingers and danced for an instant upon the hilt of the sword.  Once they found their direction towards the baboon the green electric sparks leapt down the blade in a zigzag pattern – often passing through the sharp steel in route from one side to the other.

The baboon jerked and convulsed for several seconds before Ischarus could remove his sword.  The blade separated from the baboon and the creature’s eyes rolled back into its head.  Its body had been pushed to the brink of death.

Ischarus couldn’t stand the thought that his blow might have been too powerful.  “Charis, try to save the monkey.  Rhema and I will get the one off of Semeion.”

Charis nodded and knelt beside the helpless baboon.  There was life still inside of it.  Much like the ape only moments before, Charis was able to help the baboon stabilize and rest naturally before it could die.  “Done!”

Semeion and the baboon made no concrete efforts toward damaging each other during the contest.  They had each swung several times, but neither of them could land any blows.  Semeion wasn’t exactly trying to hit, however.  Semeion’s goal was to keep the baboon at bay while using his sword to parry any incoming assault.  He knew that if he could stay on his feet long enough that Charis and Ischarus would eventually come to help.

Ophee had approached the baboon from the side, but the creature managed to dodge each of Ophee’s attacks as well.  When she realized that she lacked the necessary skill with the blade to do any significant damage, she brought a familiar set of arcane words to mind.  “Daancrah”  On the exact opposite side of the baboon as she stood, a panther appeared.  Ophee hoped that the panther would be close enough to a natural predator that it might scare the baboon.

The baboon had an advantage over Ophee, however.  The baboon’s nose told the creature that although its eyes were seeing a panther immediately beside it, the panther simply wasn’t there.  The baboon blinked and focused on the panther for a second and watched it vanish from sight.  Ophee knew that her simple illusion hadn’t quite done the job.  The baboon turned to Ophee and laughed as if it understood exactly what had happened.

Semeion didn’t expect that it was Rhema who would come to his aid first – much less through the use of her sword.  As Rhema approached, the baboon landed a glancing blow with its fangs.  Rhema took advantage of the distraction from the primate and moved behind the creature.  While it occupied itself with Semeion, she drove the dark crystalline sword into the baboon’s back.  The primate howled from the unexpected attack.

Ischarus moved in to help Semeion as he had promised to Charis.  The baboon saw him coming, however.  The creature realized that it was alone once Rhema had managed to attack it.  With the warning from Rhema’s attack, the baboon dodged out of the way of Ischarus’ sword.

Charis rose up from her knees once she knew that the baboon that had already been gravely injured would not immediately die.  Her fingers reached out for the end of her pick, which she had laid upon the ground.  Her fingers fumbled at the grip and she rose without managing to grab hold of the weapon.  She thought about stopping to pick it up, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to help Ischarus flank the creature if she stopped.  She quickly unfastened the clasp which held the end of her hammer to her belt and approached the baboon for a strike.  The timing of her attack was just off, and the head of the hammer sailed wide.

The baboon was no fool.  It was now completely surrounded.  The only escape that it could possibly hope for was to leap into the air and hope to latch onto a branch that was strong enough to hold its weight.  As the primate left the ground, each of the party took a free swing at the retreating creature’s body.  The baboon used its powerful legs to spring into the air and its dexterous hands found a branch to which it could cling for a second.

Ischarus, Rhema, and Semeion were each able to land a successful strike as the primate leapt out of the center of the battle.  Although the blows were more than glancing strikes, the cumulative effect was not enough to bring the creature to the ground.  The baboon hung off of the branch for a second while it regained its momentum and shot upwards into the tree.

In an instant Ischarus, Charis, and Ophee each had their bows drawn.  Semeion swore they had knocked an arrow before their dropped blades struck the ground around their feet.  Ischarus’ arrow sailed through the air with tremendous accuracy and nearly plucked the primate to the ground single-handedly.  Charis’ arrow had a nearly devastating effect as it snapped in half when she released the string.  Ophee’s arrow sailed through the air and stuck the primate in the back.

The baboon gripped the tree tightly as it fought for life.  After several seconds the baboon fell out of the tree to the ground.  Although it struck the ground with a decent amount of force, the baboon was lucky enough to land on a side that didn’t have arrows sticking out of it.

Charis ran over to the creature’s side and checked for signs of life.  “It’s only stunned!  It should live.”  In spite of the fact that the creatures had been trying to kill them, she wore a smile upon her face.  She turned to Ophee and nodded affirmatively.  “Nice shot.”

Ophee smiled back.  “Well, after watching you make sure the other baboon didn’t die after Ischarus’ great strike, I knew I couldn’t kill that one.  I was just trying to keep it from escaping.  I had to hope the fall wouldn’t kill it.”

Rhema patted Ophee on the shoulder in congratulations.  “You learn quickly.  We don’t kill anything with intelligence, ever.  These things are animals, of course.  But they are animals with intelligence nonetheless.”

Ischarus also congratulated Ophee.  “Good shot, Ophee.”

Indeed, it was a good shot.  Perhaps more importantly, she hadn’t frozen this time.  She hadn’t quite been effective in the beginning, but she had come through gloriously in the end.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis looked into the forest. “I wonder how long we’ll have until the next one?”

Ischarus breathed in deep and listened to the wind. “Well, if the first call that the creature gave out was any indication, I don’t think it will be long. The call before the one that brought up the magical barrier was definitely one for alarm.”

Semeion turned and looked at the fallen beast. He knew it would live. Hopefully they would be long gone before it recovered. “I’ve read that many primates actually will use a call as an alarm when intruders enter their area. This one certainly was trained enough to not call immediately, but only when it felt it was necessary to fight.”

Semeion was barely able to complete his thought when a blur made up of light brown and blue flashed by his face. His shoulder immediately throbbed in pain as two fangs jabbed through the skin and drew blood. His head turned and saw that he was being attacked by a very large baboon. The baboon easily weighed over one hundred and forty pounds and when it stood it was almost five feet in height. The creature bounced of Semeion and hopped to its feet.

From above the party in a set of trees, another baboon leapt into the air. This baboon crashed to the earth on top of Rhema. It was almost as if the baboons were intelligent enough to know which party members to assault. Semeion and Rhema were clearly the weakest of the party and would go down first. Yet, Rhema was able to evade the blow from above as she rolled out of the way.

As she rolled back onto her feet, Rhema drew out her crystal sword. The blade hummed with its own psychic energy within. Rhema sliced through the air with the edge of the blade, but her sword bounced off of an invisible barrier in front of the baboon. In her mind, Rhema heard the mutterings of the scarlet crystal that she had come to know intimately since it had called out to her from within Braagh’s case at the Translucent Corymb. “This one already has its defenses up. We’ve been ambushed!”

Rhema took no time in relaying the message. “The baboons are advanced and prepared! They were waiting for the right time to attack!”

Ischarus stepped up beside his wife and swung hard with his sword. His blade had not yet been sheathed since the end of the assault by the ape. However, the hurry to come to her aid made his aim less than stellar. The baboon hardly needed to move to evade the blow.

Charis’ blow against the same baboon didn’t miss its mark. She desired to rush to Semeion’s aid, but she knew that if she helped Ischarus by fighting from the opposite side of the baboon that they would finish the battle more quickly. While her pick sunk into the flesh of the baboon and left a slice along the creature’s leg, Charis yelled out instructions to her husband. “Just don’t get hit, we’ll be there in a second!”

The baboon that had originally attacked Rhema now found itself surrounded. Ischarus and Charis fought from opposite sides while Rhema attacked from Ischarus’ flank. The beast had no outlet but to try and fight madly and bring down the weakest of the trio. It lunged forward in an attempt to bite Rhema, but she was able to duck and dodge again to avoid being hit.

In spite of her defensive posturing, Rhema was able to manage to land a clean strike against the creature. Her crystalline friend shouted victoriously at the strike, praising her in her mind for managing to slip past the baboon’s invisible barrier. Had she not been quite so defensive, Rhema had a chance to strike at one of the creature’s vital organs. Instead, she merely left a bloody streak across the baboon’s belly. She had only grazed the skin.

Ischarus had enough of the baboon’s attacks. “Thin Zecka Egro.” He called out the magical words as he lined up a massive strike against the baboon. His sword flashed through the air and landed with considerable aim. 

The blow itself would not have been enough to drop the baboon. As the sword cut into the creature’s shoulder, light green electricity jumped out of his fingers and danced for an instant upon the hilt of the sword. Once they found their direction towards the baboon the green electric sparks leapt down the blade in a zigzag pattern – often passing through the sharp steel in route from one side to the other.

The baboon jerked and convulsed for several seconds before Ischarus could remove his sword. The blade separated from the baboon and the creature’s eyes rolled back into its head. Its body had been pushed to the brink of death.

Ischarus couldn’t stand the thought that his blow might have been too powerful. “Charis, try to save the monkey. Rhema and I will get the one off of Semeion.”

Charis nodded and knelt beside the helpless baboon. There was life still inside of it. Much like the ape only moments before, Charis was able to help the baboon stabilize and rest naturally before it could die. “Done!”

Semeion and the baboon made no concrete efforts toward damaging each other during the contest. They had each swung several times, but neither of them could land any blows. Semeion wasn’t exactly trying to hit, however. Semeion’s goal was to keep the baboon at bay while using his sword to parry any incoming assault. He knew that if he could stay on his feet long enough that Charis and Ischarus would eventually come to help.

Ophee had approached the baboon from the side, but the creature managed to dodge each of Ophee’s attacks as well. When she realized that she lacked the necessary skill with the blade to do any significant damage, she brought a familiar set of arcane words to mind. “Daancrah” On the exact opposite side of the baboon as she stood, a panther appeared. Ophee hoped that the panther would be close enough to a natural predator that it might scare the baboon.

The baboon had an advantage over Ophee, however. The baboon’s nose told the creature that although its eyes were seeing a panther immediately beside it, the panther simply wasn’t there. The baboon blinked and focused on the panther for a second and watched it vanish from sight. Ophee knew that her simple illusion hadn’t quite done the job. The baboon turned to Ophee and laughed as if it understood exactly what had happened.

Semeion didn’t expect that it was Rhema who would come to his aid first – much less through the use of her sword. As Rhema approached, the baboon landed a glancing blow with its fangs. Rhema took advantage of the distraction from the primate and moved behind the creature. While it occupied itself with Semeion, she drove the dark crystalline sword into the baboon’s back. The primate howled from the unexpected attack.

Ischarus moved in to help Semeion as he had promised to Charis. The baboon saw him coming, however. The creature realized that it was alone once Rhema had managed to attack it. With the warning from Rhema’s attack, the baboon dodged out of the way of Ischarus’ sword.

Charis rose up from her knees once she knew that the baboon that had already been gravely injured would not immediately die. Her fingers reached out for the end of her pick, which she had laid upon the ground. Her fingers fumbled at the grip and she rose without managing to grab hold of the weapon. She thought about stopping to pick it up, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to help Ischarus flank the creature if she stopped. She quickly unfastened the clasp which held the end of her hammer to her belt and approached the baboon for a strike. The timing of her attack was just off, and the head of the hammer sailed wide.

The baboon was no fool. It was now completely surrounded. The only escape that it could possibly hope for was to leap into the air and hope to latch onto a branch that was strong enough to hold its weight. As the primate left the ground, each of the party took a free swing at the retreating creature’s body. The baboon used its powerful legs to spring into the air and its dexterous hands found a branch to which it could cling for a second.

Ischarus, Rhema, and Semeion were each able to land a successful strike as the primate leapt out of the center of the battle. Although the blows were more than glancing strikes, the cumulative effect was not enough to bring the creature to the ground. The baboon hung off of the branch for a second while it regained its momentum and shot upwards into the tree.

In an instant Ischarus, Charis, and Ophee each had their bows drawn. Semeion swore they had knocked an arrow before their dropped blades struck the ground around their feet. Ischarus’ arrow sailed through the air with tremendous accuracy and nearly plucked the primate to the ground single-handedly. Charis’ arrow had a nearly devastating effect as it snapped in half when she released the string. Ophee’s arrow sailed through the air and stuck the primate in the back.

The baboon gripped the tree tightly as it fought for life. After several seconds the baboon fell out of the tree to the ground. Although it struck the ground with a decent amount of force, the baboon was lucky enough to land on a side that didn’t have arrows sticking out of it.

Charis ran over to the creature’s side and checked for signs of life. “It’s only stunned! It should live.” In spite of the fact that the creatures had been trying to kill them, she wore a smile upon her face. She turned to Ophee and nodded affirmatively. “Nice shot.”

Ophee smiled back. “Well, after watching you make sure the other baboon didn’t die after Ischarus’ great strike, I knew I couldn’t kill that one. I was just trying to keep it from escaping. I had to hope the fall wouldn’t kill it.”

Rhema patted Ophee on the shoulder in congratulations. “You learn quickly. We don’t kill anything with intelligence, ever. These things are animals, of course. But they are animals with intelligence nonetheless.”

Ischarus also congratulated Ophee. “Good shot, Ophee.”

Indeed, it was a good shot. Perhaps more importantly, she hadn’t frozen this time. She hadn’t quite been effective in the beginning, but she had come through gloriously in the end. [/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Mar 28, 2007)

Semeion scanned the horizon.  “I don’t know about either of you, but I know that my power is being drained fairly quickly for the day.  We’ve got a fair amount of traveling yet to do; and if we keep up this pace we’ll be in trouble.”

Rhema nodded.  “I agree.  My powers are not as limitless as Ischarus’ strikes with the sword.  But even then we can each only stand as long as Charis has the power to heal.”

Charis pointed deeper into the forest with the handle of her pick.  Her fingers tightly gripped the joint where the head and the handle met.  “I can heal a good bit more.  So far we’ve been lucky.  And I have a feeling that the best way to stay safe is to stay one step ahead of reinforcements.  The quicker we move, the harder we’ll be to find.”

Ischarus slipped his blade back into the scabbard once he was sure that another attack wasn’t looming in the trees.  “I’ve got to agree with Charis.  We can’t stop here; we’re on the border of territories and are likely to attract attention from both of our enemies.  If we move deeper into the land we will have a better idea of the form that our opponents are going to take.”

Semeion acquiesced.  “Lead on, then.  I’d assume the druid’s grove to be near the center of his land?”

Semeion’s question passed unanswered as Ischarus pushed aside the thin branches of a nearby sapling.  His eyes had spotted a rough trail made by the passing of several animals.  With any luck, trails like these could eventually lead them to the druid’s grove.  With any luck, they would find the root that they needed before they met the druid.

The journey through the druid’s land was slow and painstaking.  The land had formed around the druid’s wishes and control.  Since the land bowed to the will of the druid, he didn’t need to worry about the dangers of difficult terrain or complicated underbrush.  The earth and the plants had enough respect for the powerful druid that they removed any obstacles before the druid needed to cross them.  Wherever the druid wanted to walk the ground was easily graded and a trail was present.

However, this also meant that the druid could shape the land into a foreboding landscape as well.  As difficult as he could make the land, it would always reform itself for his passing and then revert to difficult terrain once he passed by.  His creations would quickly learn how to traverse the difficult terrain.  Intruders upon his domain were put at a great disadvantage from the landscape, however.  It was as if the land conspired against them at every turn.

The five adventurers passed through an area of rocky ground and Ischarus had more than once nearly turned an ankle in trying to find a passable path.  They had been slowly descending in elevation into a small valley.  If the rate of the growth of vegetation had anything to indicate, the druid’s grove was on the other side of the valley.  The hills across the valley were significantly richer in plant life; although the hills on this side of the valley were not insignificant themselves.

As Ischarus passed the halfway point in descent into the valley, he also passed by what appeared to be a blue lupine plant.  Its flower spike was already stretching toward the sun and many of seedpods on the main stem had begun to turn blue in maturity.  When Ischarus passed by, the flower spike wavered as though a breeze had blown it closer to Ischarus.

In an instant the blue seeds atop the main flower spike revealed their true nature.  The flower spikes were merely a disguise for a more sinister plant.  The plant bent the spike away from Ischarus and then snapped itself forward as though the flower spike was a short whip.  Several of the seedpods shot off the flower spike and nearly struck Ischarus in the leg.

Charis had been right behind Ischarus when she saw the plant fire its attack.  She turned, ducked, and yelled as Ischarus dove forward.  “Watch out!”  Semeion, Rhema, and Ophee heard the warning and ascended to a safe distance along the trail they had been working their way down.

Rhema turned and called to Ischarus as she retreated.  “Ischarus, are you alright?”

Ischarus didn’t bother to respond.  Instead, he watched as the plant seemed to be able to uproot itself and use its roots to crawl in the general direction that it had thrown the false seedpods.  Two tendrils on either side of the plant swept the area in front of it, clearly looking for any victims who might have been hit with the attack.

Charis gingerly reached to pick up one of the blue seedpods.  The seedpod was secreting a clear liquid and Charis’ eyes grew wide.  “Toxin!  This plant has a poison that is designed to stun a person and strip them of their strength!”

Ischarus charged up the hill past the slow moving plant.  There was little doubt that he could outrun the plant and thus there wasn’t any need to stay around and fight the odd creation.  As he approached Charis, he reached out and knocked the poisonous seedpod from her hand and lifted her off of her knees.  “No need to stick around, Charis.  If that thing can throw a toxin to stun a person, I don’t want to see what would happen if it succeeded.  Let’s get out of here.”

The pair retreated up to the safer distance and together with the three who had already retreated they watched with morbid curiosity as the plant swept across the ground in search of a victim.  Rhema was deeply intrigued by the movements of the plant.  “Well, it obviously doesn’t have eyes, or it would have known that it missed all of its marks.”

Semeion nodded.  He had also taking a deep interest in the plant.  “I imagine that the blue seedpods are supposed to be a lure.  They likely attract attention and cause its victims to stop and observe them.  The tendrils must have some sort of hairs upon them that are sensitive enough to the movement of air to know when a victim has passed by.  Of course, that would mean that the plant would have to search for any victims it strikes, rather than see where the poison took hold.”

Ophee frowned as she looked to the plant.  “But, if it has no eyes nor a mouth, how does it eat its victims?”

Semeion smiled.  “I’ve heard of plants who behave in a similar manner.  Once their victim is subdued or dead, the plant simply excavates a hole to set the body of its victim in.  Then, it settles its own roots upon the body so that as the body decays the roots can absorb the flesh as it begins to break apart.”

Ophee shuddered.  “That’s a horrible thought.”

Ischarus looked up to the top of the valley that they had begun to descend.  “Indeed it is.  And I would suggest we continue to backtrack and find another way around the valley.  I’d like to think that the druid has provided trails for his minions that aren’t in danger of these plants.  If that’s the case, I’d like to find one of them.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion scanned the horizon. “I don’t know about either of you, but I know that my power is being drained fairly quickly for the day. We’ve got a fair amount of traveling yet to do; and if we keep up this pace we’ll be in trouble.”

Rhema nodded. “I agree. My powers are not as limitless as Ischarus’ strikes with the sword. But even then we can each only stand as long as Charis has the power to heal.”

Charis pointed deeper into the forest with the handle of her pick. Her fingers tightly gripped the joint where the head and the handle met. “I can heal a good bit more. So far we’ve been lucky. And I have a feeling that the best way to stay safe is to stay one step ahead of reinforcements. The quicker we move, the harder we’ll be to find.”

Ischarus slipped his blade back into the scabbard once he was sure that another attack wasn’t looming in the trees. “I’ve got to agree with Charis. We can’t stop here; we’re on the border of territories and are likely to attract attention from both of our enemies. If we move deeper into the land we will have a better idea of the form that our opponents are going to take.”

Semeion acquiesced. “Lead on, then. I’d assume the druid’s grove to be near the center of his land?”

Semeion’s question passed unanswered as Ischarus pushed aside the thin branches of a nearby sapling. His eyes had spotted a rough trail made by the passing of several animals. With any luck, trails like these could eventually lead them to the druid’s grove. With any luck, they would find the root that they needed before they met the druid.

The journey through the druid’s land was slow and painstaking. The land had formed around the druid’s wishes and control. Since the land bowed to the will of the druid, he didn’t need to worry about the dangers of difficult terrain or complicated underbrush. The earth and the plants had enough respect for the powerful druid that they removed any obstacles before the druid needed to cross them. Wherever the druid wanted to walk the ground was easily graded and a trail was present.

However, this also meant that the druid could shape the land into a foreboding landscape as well. As difficult as he could make the land, it would always reform itself for his passing and then revert to difficult terrain once he passed by. His creations would quickly learn how to traverse the difficult terrain. Intruders upon his domain were put at a great disadvantage from the landscape, however. It was as if the land conspired against them at every turn.

The five adventurers passed through an area of rocky ground and Ischarus had more than once nearly turned an ankle in trying to find a passable path. They had been slowly descending in elevation into a small valley. If the rate of the growth of vegetation had anything to indicate, the druid’s grove was on the other side of the valley. The hills across the valley were significantly richer in plant life; although the hills on this side of the valley were not insignificant themselves.

As Ischarus passed the halfway point in descent into the valley, he also passed by what appeared to be a blue lupine plant. Its flower spike was already stretching toward the sun and many of seedpods on the main stem had begun to turn blue in maturity. When Ischarus passed by, the flower spike wavered as though a breeze had blown it closer to Ischarus.

In an instant the blue seeds atop the main flower spike revealed their true nature. The flower spikes were merely a disguise for a more sinister plant. The plant bent the spike away from Ischarus and then snapped itself forward as though the flower spike was a short whip. Several of the seedpods shot off the flower spike and nearly struck Ischarus in the leg.

Charis had been right behind Ischarus when she saw the plant fire its attack. She turned, ducked, and yelled as Ischarus dove forward. “Watch out!” Semeion, Rhema, and Ophee heard the warning and ascended to a safe distance along the trail they had been working their way down.

Rhema turned and called to Ischarus as she retreated. “Ischarus, are you alright?”

Ischarus didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he watched as the plant seemed to be able to uproot itself and use its roots to crawl in the general direction that it had thrown the false seedpods. Two tendrils on either side of the plant swept the area in front of it, clearly looking for any victims who might have been hit with the attack.

Charis gingerly reached to pick up one of the blue seedpods. The seedpod was secreting a clear liquid and Charis’ eyes grew wide. “Toxin! This plant has a poison that is designed to stun a person and strip them of their strength!”

Ischarus charged up the hill past the slow moving plant. There was little doubt that he could outrun the plant and thus there wasn’t any need to stay around and fight the odd creation. As he approached Charis, he reached out and knocked the poisonous seedpod from her hand and lifted her off of her knees. “No need to stick around, Charis. If that thing can throw a toxin to stun a person, I don’t want to see what would happen if it succeeded. Let’s get out of here.”

The pair retreated up to the safer distance and together with the three who had already retreated they watched with morbid curiosity as the plant swept across the ground in search of a victim. Rhema was deeply intrigued by the movements of the plant. “Well, it obviously doesn’t have eyes, or it would have known that it missed all of its marks.”

Semeion nodded. He had also taking a deep interest in the plant. “I imagine that the blue seedpods are supposed to be a lure. They likely attract attention and cause its victims to stop and observe them. The tendrils must have some sort of hairs upon them that are sensitive enough to the movement of air to know when a victim has passed by. Of course, that would mean that the plant would have to search for any victims it strikes, rather than see where the poison took hold.”

Ophee frowned as she looked to the plant. “But, if it has no eyes nor a mouth, how does it eat its victims?”

Semeion smiled. “I’ve heard of plants who behave in a similar manner. Once their victim is subdued or dead, the plant simply excavates a hole to set the body of its victim in. Then, it settles its own roots upon the body so that as the body decays the roots can absorb the flesh as it begins to break apart.”

Ophee shuddered. “That’s a horrible thought.”

Ischarus looked up to the top of the valley that they had begun to descend. “Indeed it is. And I would suggest we continue to backtrack and find another way around the valley. I’d like to think that the druid has provided trails for his minions that aren’t in danger of these plants. If that’s the case, I’d like to find one of them.” 
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Mar 30, 2007)

The party was able to find a trail through the valley that didn’t involve being attacked by flower spikes of any sort.  Since they lost time by backtracking until they could find another path through the valley, the sun had begun to descend in the sky as they started to climb out on the opposite side.  The valley wall loomed against them as though the druid had intended the climb to be intentionally steep.  It hadn’t quite looked so steep from the other side, but the lush vegetation helped disguise the truth.  

The trail that the party followed switched back and forth as they made slow progress in climbing out of the valley.  The wide switchback trail added miles to their walk, and when they were able to finally reach the top of the valley they noticed that the additional miles had taken more time than they had anticipated.  The sun had almost completely descended in the sky.

Ischarus sighed out of frustration.  “The valley disguised how late in the day it was getting.  We’d best find a defensible position and make camp for the night.  We should scout out the area before dark hits.  Somehow I have a feeling that the nights are more dangerous here than the days.”

Charis peered down the trail and agreed.  “One thing is for sure about us.  We’re far weaker in the night than the animals around us.  Many of them are quite equipped for a night hunt.”

The party split up into two groups.  Charis and Semeion took Ophee and scouted to the south of the path.  Ischarus and Rhema scouted out the northern portion of the immediate area.  After the designated half hour passed they returned to the path and reported.

Rhema shook her head in disbelief.  “Nothing but trees to the north.  We could go back into the valley if we wanted to find some rocks to use as protection, but that would seem to defeat our purpose.  If we wanted the protection of the valley we should’ve stayed down there.”

Ophee reported the findings of her group.  “We found only one reasonable place to the south, but it would seem that it is our best offer.”

Ischarus picked up on Ophee’s inflection upon her use of the description of the site.  “Reasonable?  Just what do you mean by that?”

Semeion looked off Ophee and looked Ischarus in the eye.  “The girls thought the place was defensible, and it truly is.  It is almost too defensible.  The place gave me the feeling of being contrived, if you ask me.  No good places to rest to the north – and only one good place to rest to the south.  That just seems artificial.”

Charis smiled.  “But it is defensible, Semeion.  Contrived or not, we should be able to protect ourselves even if we are being set-up.  We’ll just post watches.  We can’t be caught off-guard, there.  There is only one way out of the cave!”

Ischarus raised an eyebrow at the mention of a cave.  “Cave?  I don’t like the thought of going into a place with only one exit.  It’s easily enough protected, but we’re just as easily trapped while reinforcements come against us.”

Rhema countered Ischarus, officially turning it into a male versus female argument.  In truth, gender had little to do with the argument.  “But, I’ll agree with Charis and Ophee.  We could get by with one watch per shift in a cave.  We could get better sleep than last night, and Ophee wouldn’t need to take a watch.  No offense, Ophee, but we still don’t exactly know you well enough to trust you.”

Ophee shrugged.  It didn’t mean anything to her that she wasn’t trusted.  “Fine by me, anyway.  This way I’ll get a full night’s sleep.”

Ischarus breathed in deeply and allowed the exhale to slowly emerge through his nose.  “Well, let’s go and look at this cave.  There’s no harm in looking, especially since if we don’t pick the cave it doesn’t really matter where we sleep.  Any place in the woods is as good as the next around here.”

Several hours later, Ischarus stood first watch within the cave.  The voices of the women had outnumbered the voices of the men.  Semeion and Ischarus had given way against their better judgment.  Yet, Ischarus found himself crouched just inside the cave entrance.  He had a good enough view of the outside, and in that respect the women had been right.  There was no way that they could be taken by surprise.

The first two shifts passed by quickly.  Rhema took the watch after Ischarus, and Charis took the watch after Rhema.  Semeion had requested to go first or last so that his sleep could be uninterrupted unless there was an emergency.  His arcane arts demanded more of his sleep than those of anyone else, so Semeion often was given the role of last watch.

Charis yawned as she turned her head to look back at her sleeping husband.  For all the more logical and put together he was during his waking hours, she couldn’t help being attracted to the cute drool spot developing on his pillow underneath his mouth.  He slept with his mouth open, and often woke with a drool spot beneath him.  She would tease him about it in the morning just to make sure he didn’t get too high on himself first thing.

As she started to turn her head back to the forest outside the cave, her ears picked up on the sound of a twig snapping.  Charis drew her pick and moved to Ischarus’ side.  She maintained her crouched position and was grateful that they had not made a fire for the night.  The absence of light from the fire allowed her eyes to transition from the darkness of the cave to the darkness outside with relative ease.

When she reached Ischarus’ side she paused a moment to make sure that it would be worth waking Ischarus.  Her ears picked up the rapid movement of paw pads along the ground outside the cave.  Something with a significant amount of mass and four feet was headed their way.  “Ischarus, we’ve got company.  An animal comes.”

Ischarus blinked quickly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.  “Is it phrenic?”

Charis shook her head.  “I don’t know.”

Ischarus sat up and pulled himself to his knees.  He quickly removed his blade from its scabbard, and the ring of metal raised Rhema from her sleep.  Ischarus reached out with his free hand and rested it on Rhema’s forehead.  “Don’t get up, yet.  Something is coming, but I don’t want to alarm it with much noise.”

With his sword in hand, Ischarus crept back to the right of the entrance of the cave.  Charis followed him until he stopped to peer out of the cave entrance.  She crossed to the left of the entrance and peered out.  Both Ischarus and Charis spotted the pair of green eyes peering into the cave.

Several events happened at the same time once the eyes of the party locked with the green pair outside.  Ischarus and Charis both immediately recognized the eyes.  They had met these eyes before.  Ischarus called out with a smile on his face.  “Froves.”

Charis turned her head to face the rest of her party.  She called out with more alarm than Ischarus.  “Froves!”

Rhema’s eyes flashed open wide as the frove leapt into the cave.  Semeion’s eyes popped open and he was on his feet in a second.  He almost tripped as his feet made contact with Ophee, but he was able to keep his balance.  Semeion’s feet brought Ophee out of her deep sleep.

As the large green-eyed wolf leapt into the cave, Ischarus’ sword swung against the assault.  The sword penetrated the invisible barrier that the frove had raised before attacking.  Ischarus called out with the discovery of the invisible barrier.  “Phrenic!  Beware!”  His sword would not be denied, and the blade bit through the thick coating of hair.  While the blow was solid, the frove was far from gravely wounded.

Rhema lifted her hand and locked eyes with the frove.  Her hand waved in a large circle before her as she spoke.  “You do not desire to come any further into this cave, frove.”  The creature immediately looked as though it had a distaste for moving past Ischarus and Charis and challenging the spell casters.  Its body positioning changed so that it was more concerned with defending its own ground rather than claiming more territory.

Knowing that morning was almost due to come and his magical energies would soon be replenished, Semeion expended his most powerful spell.  “Thin-tok arash.”  A green ball of acid formed in his fingers.  He flung the acid in the direction of the frove, but the ball of acid skipped by over the frove’s head and into the darkness of the forest.

Ophee rose to her feet and in an instant she had a dagger in her hand.  She stepped toward the frove and sliced with a quick flick of her wrist.  The blade also penetrated the frove’s invisible barrier and dug into the creature’s thick fur.  The frove yelped in pain as the blade bit into the muscle covering its right front shoulder.

The frove turned on Charis as if it knew that she had been the subject of attacks throughout the day.  The beast caught Charis on the shoulder and gave a mighty tug.  When the frove released Charis’ arm its maw was stained with her blood.

Charis returned the strike with little regard to her own condition.  Her pick dug into the frove’s left side, but didn’t manage to puncture any vital organs.  The creature spun to protect itself from another assault, but Charis was not planning on another attack at the moment.

Ischarus pounced when the frove turned to face Charis.  His sword sailed directly towards the frove’s neck and would have likely decapitated the beast had the creature’s invisible barrier not gotten into the way.  At the last second, Ischarus’ sword made contact with the barrier and his strike was deflected to the side.

Rhema now knew that she was safe.  Ophee had challenged the frove’s position and between the three attackers and her earlier power the frove was unlikely going to advance toward her.  Knowing that she was in no immediate danger, Rhema used her mind control to stab deeply into the frove’s own mind.  Her thoughts spiked into the mind of the overgrown wolf and the creature snarled in pain.  A small trickle of blood appeared out of the frove’s right nostril.

Semeion paused without attacking the frove.  He had spent his greatest spell in an overconfident failure.  He now decided to conserve his power for when the party might truly need it.  He watched as Ophee swung at the frove but was unable to penetrate the creature’s barrier.

Apparently the cumulative damage to the frove had been enough.  The creature allowed a loud and pained howl to leave its chest as it retreated out of the cave and into the night.  A thin trail of drops of blood showed the path that the creature had taken.  It was obviously wounded and had decided that the party – or perhaps access to the cave – was not worth the fight tonight.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party was able to find a trail through the valley that didn’t involve being attacked by flower spikes of any sort. Since they lost time by backtracking until they could find another path through the valley, the sun had begun to descend in the sky as they started to climb out on the opposite side. The valley wall loomed against them as though the druid had intended the climb to be intentionally steep. It hadn’t quite looked so steep from the other side, but the lush vegetation helped disguise the truth. 

The trail that the party followed switched back and forth as they made slow progress in climbing out of the valley. The wide switchback trail added miles to their walk, and when they were able to finally reach the top of the valley they noticed that the additional miles had taken more time than they had anticipated. The sun had almost completely descended in the sky.

Ischarus sighed out of frustration. “The valley disguised how late in the day it was getting. We’d best find a defensible position and make camp for the night. We should scout out the area before dark hits. Somehow I have a feeling that the nights are more dangerous here than the days.”

Charis peered down the trail and agreed. “One thing is for sure about us. We’re far weaker in the night than the animals around us. Many of them are quite equipped for a night hunt.”

The party split up into two groups. Charis and Semeion took Ophee and scouted to the south of the path. Ischarus and Rhema scouted out the northern portion of the immediate area. After the designated half hour passed they returned to the path and reported.

Rhema shook her head in disbelief. “Nothing but trees to the north. We could go back into the valley if we wanted to find some rocks to use as protection, but that would seem to defeat our purpose. If we wanted the protection of the valley we should’ve stayed down there.”

Ophee reported the findings of her group. “We found only one reasonable place to the south, but it would seem that it is our best offer.”

Ischarus picked up on Ophee’s inflection upon her use of the description of the site. “Reasonable? Just what do you mean by that?”

Semeion looked off Ophee and looked Ischarus in the eye. “The girls thought the place was defensible, and it truly is. It is almost too defensible. The place gave me the feeling of being contrived, if you ask me. No good places to rest to the north – and only one good place to rest to the south. That just seems artificial.”

Charis smiled. “But it is defensible, Semeion. Contrived or not, we should be able to protect ourselves even if we are being set-up. We’ll just post watches. We can’t be caught off-guard, there. There is only one way out of the cave!”

Ischarus raised an eyebrow at the mention of a cave. “Cave? I don’t like the thought of going into a place with only one exit. It’s easily enough protected, but we’re just as easily trapped while reinforcements come against us.”

Rhema countered Ischarus, officially turning it into a male versus female argument. In truth, gender had little to do with the argument. “But, I’ll agree with Charis and Ophee. We could get by with one watch per shift in a cave. We could get better sleep than last night, and Ophee wouldn’t need to take a watch. No offense, Ophee, but we still don’t exactly know you well enough to trust you.”

Ophee shrugged. It didn’t mean anything to her that she wasn’t trusted. “Fine by me, anyway. This way I’ll get a full night’s sleep.”

Ischarus breathed in deeply and allowed the exhale to slowly emerge through his nose. “Well, let’s go and look at this cave. There’s no harm in looking, especially since if we don’t pick the cave it doesn’t really matter where we sleep. Any place in the woods is as good as the next around here.”

Several hours later, Ischarus stood first watch within the cave. The voices of the women had outnumbered the voices of the men. Semeion and Ischarus had given way against their better judgment. Yet, Ischarus found himself crouched just inside the cave entrance. He had a good enough view of the outside, and in that respect the women had been right. There was no way that they could be taken by surprise.

The first two shifts passed by quickly. Rhema took the watch after Ischarus, and Charis took the watch after Rhema. Semeion had requested to go first or last so that his sleep could be uninterrupted unless there was an emergency. His arcane arts demanded more of his sleep than those of anyone else, so Semeion often was given the role of last watch.

Charis yawned as she turned her head to look back at her sleeping husband. For all the more logical and put together he was during his waking hours, she couldn’t help being attracted to the cute drool spot developing on his pillow underneath his mouth. He slept with his mouth open, and often woke with a drool spot beneath him. She would tease him about it in the morning just to make sure he didn’t get too high on himself first thing.

As she started to turn her head back to the forest outside the cave, her ears picked up on the sound of a twig snapping. Charis drew her pick and moved to Ischarus’ side. She maintained her crouched position and was grateful that they had not made a fire for the night. The absence of light from the fire allowed her eyes to transition from the darkness of the cave to the darkness outside with relative ease.

When she reached Ischarus’ side she paused a moment to make sure that it would be worth waking Ischarus. Her ears picked up the rapid movement of paw pads along the ground outside the cave. Something with a significant amount of mass and four feet was headed their way. “Ischarus, we’ve got company. An animal comes.”

Ischarus blinked quickly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Is it phrenic?”

Charis shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Ischarus sat up and pulled himself to his knees. He quickly removed his blade from its scabbard, and the ring of metal raised Rhema from her sleep. Ischarus reached out with his free hand and rested it on Rhema’s forehead. “Don’t get up, yet. Something is coming, but I don’t want to alarm it with much noise.”

With his sword in hand, Ischarus crept back to the right of the entrance of the cave. Charis followed him until he stopped to peer out of the cave entrance. She crossed to the left of the entrance and peered out. Both Ischarus and Charis spotted the pair of green eyes peering into the cave.

Several events happened at the same time once the eyes of the party locked with the green pair outside. Ischarus and Charis both immediately recognized the eyes. They had met these eyes before. Ischarus called out with a smile on his face. “Froves.”

Charis turned her head to face the rest of her party. She called out with more alarm than Ischarus. “Froves!”

Rhema’s eyes flashed open wide as the frove leapt into the cave. Semeion’s eyes popped open and he was on his feet in a second. He almost tripped as his feet made contact with Ophee, but he was able to keep his balance. Semeion’s feet brought Ophee out of her deep sleep.

As the large green-eyed wolf leapt into the cave, Ischarus’ sword swung against the assault. The sword penetrated the invisible barrier that the frove had raised before attacking. Ischarus called out with the discovery of the invisible barrier. “Phrenic! Beware!” His sword would not be denied, and the blade bit through the thick coating of hair. While the blow was solid, the frove was far from gravely wounded.

Rhema lifted her hand and locked eyes with the frove. Her hand waved in a large circle before her as she spoke. “You do not desire to come any further into this cave, frove.” The creature immediately looked as though it had a distaste for moving past Ischarus and Charis and challenging the spell casters. Its body positioning changed so that it was more concerned with defending its own ground rather than claiming more territory.

Knowing that morning was almost due to come and his magical energies would soon be replenished, Semeion expended his most powerful spell. “Thin-tok arash.” A green ball of acid formed in his fingers. He flung the acid in the direction of the frove, but the ball of acid skipped by over the frove’s head and into the darkness of the forest.

Ophee rose to her feet and in an instant she had a dagger in her hand. She stepped toward the frove and sliced with a quick flick of her wrist. The blade also penetrated the frove’s invisible barrier and dug into the creature’s thick fur. The frove yelped in pain as the blade bit into the muscle covering its right front shoulder.

The frove turned on Charis as if it knew that she had been the subject of attacks throughout the day. The beast caught Charis on the shoulder and gave a mighty tug. When the frove released Charis’ arm its maw was stained with her blood.

Charis returned the strike with little regard to her own condition. Her pick dug into the frove’s left side, but didn’t manage to puncture any vital organs. The creature spun to protect itself from another assault, but Charis was not planning on another attack at the moment.

Ischarus pounced when the frove turned to face Charis. His sword sailed directly towards the frove’s neck and would have likely decapitated the beast had the creature’s invisible barrier not gotten into the way. At the last second, Ischarus’ sword made contact with the barrier and his strike was deflected to the side.

Rhema now knew that she was safe. Ophee had challenged the frove’s position and between the three attackers and her earlier power the frove was unlikely going to advance toward her. Knowing that she was in no immediate danger, Rhema used her mind control to stab deeply into the frove’s own mind. Her thoughts spiked into the mind of the overgrown wolf and the creature snarled in pain. A small trickle of blood appeared out of the frove’s right nostril.

Semeion paused without attacking the frove. He had spent his greatest spell in an overconfident failure. He now decided to conserve his power for when the party might truly need it. He watched as Ophee swung at the frove but was unable to penetrate the creature’s barrier.

Apparently the cumulative damage to the frove had been enough. The creature allowed a loud and pained howl to leave its chest as it retreated out of the cave and into the night. A thin trail of drops of blood showed the path that the creature had taken. It was obviously wounded and had decided that the party – or perhaps access to the cave – was not worth the fight tonight.
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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 1, 2007)

The party watched the frove retreat into the forest.  Ischarus and Charis thought about pursuing the frove into the darkness beyond, but a gesture and a comment from Rhema stopped their pursuit.  “We don’t need the victory that bad.  Stay in here where it is safe.  For all we know, there could be more out there, waiting for us to come out and give chase.”

Semeion’s face wrinkled in puzzlement for a moment.  “Either way, the retreat sure was strange.  The frove was clearly phrenic.  It was able to use its mind to conjure up the same kind of defenses that we’ve seen in the others.”

Charis finished his thought for him.  “But the others didn’t retreat.  The others fought until they were taken down.  Something isn’t right about this one.”

Ophee was beginning to feel more comfortable among the party.  “Well, we’re not all the same level of intelligence.  Perhaps the frove was just smarter than the others?”

Before anyone could honestly answer Ophee’s assertion, a booming voice echoed throughout the cave.  The voice was so loud that each of the party cupped their hands over their ears to muffle the sound.  “Those who wake the earth once seldom live to do it a second time!”

Prior to the party being able to exit the cave, a mass of rock emerged from the wall to the right of the exit and blocked the way out.  As the rock emerged from the wall, pieces of stone began to separate from the mud and clay.  The stone arbitrarily migrated to the top and side of the emerging form while the clay and mud stayed in the center and began to separate into a torso and the proper corresponding appendages.  Many of the stones gathered together on what appeared to be the emerging head; and the stones gathered themselves into the eyes, nose, and even teeth of the form.  The stones that had migrated to the sides of the figure became the claws and nails on the emerging feet and hands.

The party found themselves too intrigued by the process of the forming earth creation to do anything about it.  Charis and Ischarus watched with mouths agape as the figure formed from the earth.  Semeion had tilted his head to the right side as his innate curiosity regarding magical summoning was piqued.  Rhema and Ophee quickly scanned the rest of the walls to make sure that this figure was the only one that would be forming out of the earth.

Once the figure was formed, the booming voice of the cave spoke once more.  “Prove yourself worthy of sleeping in my cave.  You have awoken me, now you must earn your stay.  Defeat my guardian!”

Suddenly the attack made sense to Semeion.  “The frove knew what was going to happen.  The attack was simply bait!  The howl woke up the cave.  The frove was sent here to let the cave finish us off!”

At Semeion’s words, Ischarus brought his sword around in the first attack.  The speed of his assault caught the earthen guardian by surprise and Ischarus landed a clean blow.  A small rock chipped away from the creature’s midsection and clumps of mud and clay sprayed across the party.

Rhema knew that her powers would be of little help against the creature.  She drew her crystalline sword, but also knew she didn’t have any place to launch an attack.  “Draw the creature deeper into the cave!  Semeion and I can only use our blades if we have room to join the assault.”

The earth guardian acted as though it did not hear Rhema’s speech, or else it could not understand it.  Since Ischarus had already moved to join the attack, the creature swung its clay arms and rock nails toward Ischarus.  The blow was easily turned aside by a simple duck.  The guardian’s attack was slow, but quite substantial.

Semeion drew his own sword, but had to pause for a moment for space to open up within the combat area.  He didn’t want to risk wasting spells if they would do no damage against the creature.  Ophee and Charis each held their weapons aloft.  Charis sliced the pointed end of her pick through the air and lodged it solidly into the creature’s side.  When she pulled the pick free, more rock and clay pulled away from the side of the creature.  Ophee’s attack missed, but both Ophee and Charis stepped back a pace so as to force the earthen guardian to come further into the cave to assault them.

Ischarus saw the strategy on behalf of his female counterparts.  He brought his sword around in a quick strike and made simple contact.  The blow chipped more rock and clay from the creature, but his intent was to allow his attack to give him a chance to take a step back and join Ophee and Charis in setting up a new defensive line.

The rock creature seemed to have little understanding of the tactics being employed by the party.  The creature stepped forward and swung to hit Ischarus.  Although Ischarus had easily dodged the last attack, he had difficulty dodging this particular blow.  The rock and clay arms of the earth guardian struck Ischarus hard and nearly knocked him to the ground.  Ischarus looked unsteady for a moment before regaining his composure.

Rhema and Semeion took the opportunity presented to them by the advance of the earth guardian.  Although they couldn’t get around to the earth guardian’s backside without exposing themselves, they were each able to sneak in along the creature’s sides.  Rhema flanked his right side beside Ischarus while Semeion flanked the opposite side beside Charis.  Both Rhema and Semeion swung at the creature, but neither was able to connect with a damaging strike.

Charis and Ophee had a bit of better luck.  Ophee distracted the creature with a well-intentioned miss.  Charis followed the assault with another good blow from her pick.  More rock and clay chipped away from the creature.  Although enough of the rock and clay had been chipped away from the creature’s midsection to make it appear as though it should tumble over, the earth magic that animated it kept it upright and still a significant threat.

Ischarus lined up another strike and landed a solid blow as soon as he had recovered from the previous attack.  His sword bit deep into the earth guardian’s massive right arm and tore rock and clay away.  The creature returned Ischarus’ strike with one of his own, and this time the blow was enough to knock Ischarus flat on his back.  The earth guardian had struck with such violence that as the uppercut landed Ischarus was lifted off of his feet and fell square on his shoulders.

Rhema saw her husband fall to the ground and knew that there was little that she could do except fight hard against the creature in front of her.  The best way to protect her husband would be to dispatch the threat.  She stepped to her left, so that she and Charis were fighting the creature from opposite sides.  Her deep blue crystalline sword struck the creature’s back and removed even more rock and clay from its midsection.  Much to the party’s amazement, the creature continued to remain on its feet.

Semeion stepped opposite Ophee and swung with his rapier.  The weapon made contact, but his strength was not enough to harm the thick rock surface that formed the creature.  His blow glanced off to the side as Ophee also swung toward the creature and missed.

Charis wanted to knock the creature onto its back, but she knew that Ischarus’ life was more important.  She stepped behind Ophee and crouched onto the ground so that she could touch Ischarus.  Her lips parted to allow the soft words of healing to come forth.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”  The white aura surrounding her hand dissipated to cover Ischarus, who immediately opened his eyes as if being woken by cold water splashed on his face.  Ischarus slid backwards away from the creature and rose to his feet from a safe distance.

The earth guardian noted that Ischarus was no longer in range, so it turned its mighty fists to Semeion.  Although the blow almost connected with the young mage, Semeion was able to duck out of the way before the strike could do any harm.  Semeion changed his grip on his rapier and waited for an opening to strike.

Rhema swung while the creature assaulted Semeion, but her blow was ill timed.  Ophee managed to swing and land a solid blow as Rhema missed.  When the earth guardian turned to react to Ophee’s strike, Semeion swung.  His blow sliced through the air without making contact.  Charis had managed to get to her feet and as Semeion swung she also approached the earth guardian to land a blow, but her strike was not forceful enough to land with any kind of authority.

Ischarus had enough of the battle, and once he noticed that the earth guardian had turned upon the more fragile members of the party he knew that it was time to finish the battle.  “Thin Zecka Egro!”  As he charged into battle his sword rippled with static electricity.  His blade swung hard toward the earth guardian and the energy arced across the space between his blade and the creature, guiding the blade in.  The strike was damaging enough, but the stored static energy upon his blade surged into the earth guardian and overcame the earth magic that kept it together.  The earth guardian exploded.  Clay, mud, and even pieces of jade sprayed throughout the cave.  The party each appeared as though they had just emerged from a mud bath once the effects of the explosion were concluded.

Ischarus breathed heavily as Rhema approached him.  He held out his hand to hold her back.  “Wait until my blade has fully discharged.  I don’t want you to get shocked.”

Rhema didn’t care.  She pushed his blade out of his hand and embraced him in a loving hug.  The rest of the party relaxed and began to breathe normally.  Ophee, Charis, and Semeion each wiped chunks of mud and rock away from their faces.

Nobody was prepared for the voice of the cave to return.  Nobody was prepared for the gift that they were about to receive.  “You have proven yourselves worthy.  Stay in my cave until the sun rises.  My guardian will protect you.”  As the voice echoed, another earth guardian formed from the rock wall and exited.  Much of the mud, clay, and stone from the previous earth guardian was magically reabsorbed into the cave walls and floor.

Just in case the cave had set them up for a trap, the party lifted their weapons to challenge the new creature at first.  Instead, the new earth guardian ignored the party and turned to face outside the cave.  It remained constantly vigilant until the sun rose above the treetops and into the cave.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party watched the frove retreat into the forest. Ischarus and Charis thought about pursuing the frove into the darkness beyond, but a gesture and a comment from Rhema stopped their pursuit. “We don’t need the victory that bad. Stay in here where it is safe. For all we know, there could be more out there, waiting for us to come out and give chase.”

Semeion’s face wrinkled in puzzlement for a moment. “Either way, the retreat sure was strange. The frove was clearly phrenic. It was able to use its mind to conjure up the same kind of defenses that we’ve seen in the others.”

Charis finished his thought for him. “But the others didn’t retreat. The others fought until they were taken down. Something isn’t right about this one.”

Ophee was beginning to feel more comfortable among the party. “Well, we’re not all the same level of intelligence. Perhaps the frove was just smarter than the others?”

Before anyone could honestly answer Ophee’s assertion, a booming voice echoed throughout the cave. The voice was so loud that each of the party cupped their hands over their ears to muffle the sound. “Those who wake the earth once seldom live to do it a second time!”

Prior to the party being able to exit the cave, a mass of rock emerged from the wall to the right of the exit and blocked the way out. As the rock emerged from the wall, pieces of stone began to separate from the mud and clay. The stone arbitrarily migrated to the top and side of the emerging form while the clay and mud stayed in the center and began to separate into a torso and the proper corresponding appendages. Many of the stones gathered together on what appeared to be the emerging head; and the stones gathered themselves into the eyes, nose, and even teeth of the form. The stones that had migrated to the sides of the figure became the claws and nails on the emerging feet and hands.

The party found themselves too intrigued by the process of the forming earth creation to do anything about it. Charis and Ischarus watched with mouths agape as the figure formed from the earth. Semeion had tilted his head to the right side as his innate curiosity regarding magical summoning was piqued. Rhema and Ophee quickly scanned the rest of the walls to make sure that this figure was the only one that would be forming out of the earth.

Once the figure was formed, the booming voice of the cave spoke once more. “Prove yourself worthy of sleeping in my cave. You have awoken me, now you must earn your stay. Defeat my guardian!”

Suddenly the attack made sense to Semeion. “The frove knew what was going to happen. The attack was simply bait! The howl woke up the cave. The frove was sent here to let the cave finish us off!”

At Semeion’s words, Ischarus brought his sword around in the first attack. The speed of his assault caught the earthen guardian by surprise and Ischarus landed a clean blow. A small rock chipped away from the creature’s midsection and clumps of mud and clay sprayed across the party.

Rhema knew that her powers would be of little help against the creature. She drew her crystalline sword, but also knew she didn’t have any place to launch an attack. “Draw the creature deeper into the cave! Semeion and I can only use our blades if we have room to join the assault.”

The earth guardian acted as though it did not hear Rhema’s speech, or else it could not understand it. Since Ischarus had already moved to join the attack, the creature swung its clay arms and rock nails toward Ischarus. The blow was easily turned aside by a simple duck. The guardian’s attack was slow, but quite substantial.

Semeion drew his own sword, but had to pause for a moment for space to open up within the combat area. He didn’t want to risk wasting spells if they would do no damage against the creature. Ophee and Charis each held their weapons aloft. Charis sliced the pointed end of her pick through the air and lodged it solidly into the creature’s side. When she pulled the pick free, more rock and clay pulled away from the side of the creature. Ophee’s attack missed, but both Ophee and Charis stepped back a pace so as to force the earthen guardian to come further into the cave to assault them.

Ischarus saw the strategy on behalf of his female counterparts. He brought his sword around in a quick strike and made simple contact. The blow chipped more rock and clay from the creature, but his intent was to allow his attack to give him a chance to take a step back and join Ophee and Charis in setting up a new defensive line.

The rock creature seemed to have little understanding of the tactics being employed by the party. The creature stepped forward and swung to hit Ischarus. Although Ischarus had easily dodged the last attack, he had difficulty dodging this particular blow. The rock and clay arms of the earth guardian struck Ischarus hard and nearly knocked him to the ground. Ischarus looked unsteady for a moment before regaining his composure.

Rhema and Semeion took the opportunity presented to them by the advance of the earth guardian. Although they couldn’t get around to the earth guardian’s backside without exposing themselves, they were each able to sneak in along the creature’s sides. Rhema flanked his right side beside Ischarus while Semeion flanked the opposite side beside Charis. Both Rhema and Semeion swung at the creature, but neither was able to connect with a damaging strike.

Charis and Ophee had a bit of better luck. Ophee distracted the creature with a well-intentioned miss. Charis followed the assault with another good blow from her pick. More rock and clay chipped away from the creature. Although enough of the rock and clay had been chipped away from the creature’s midsection to make it appear as though it should tumble over, the earth magic that animated it kept it upright and still a significant threat.

Ischarus lined up another strike and landed a solid blow as soon as he had recovered from the previous attack. His sword bit deep into the earth guardian’s massive right arm and tore rock and clay away. The creature returned Ischarus’ strike with one of his own, and this time the blow was enough to knock Ischarus flat on his back. The earth guardian had struck with such violence that as the uppercut landed Ischarus was lifted off of his feet and fell square on his shoulders.

Rhema saw her husband fall to the ground and knew that there was little that she could do except fight hard against the creature in front of her. The best way to protect her husband would be to dispatch the threat. She stepped to her left, so that she and Charis were fighting the creature from opposite sides. Her deep blue crystalline sword struck the creature’s back and removed even more rock and clay from its midsection. Much to the party’s amazement, the creature continued to remain on its feet.

Semeion stepped opposite Ophee and swung with his rapier. The weapon made contact, but his strength was not enough to harm the thick rock surface that formed the creature. His blow glanced off to the side as Ophee also swung toward the creature and missed.

Charis wanted to knock the creature onto its back, but she knew that Ischarus’ life was more important. She stepped behind Ophee and crouched onto the ground so that she could touch Ischarus. Her lips parted to allow the soft words of healing to come forth. “Bondras-tol Egro.” The white aura surrounding her hand dissipated to cover Ischarus, who immediately opened his eyes as if being woken by cold water splashed on his face. Ischarus slid backwards away from the creature and rose to his feet from a safe distance.

The earth guardian noted that Ischarus was no longer in range, so it turned its mighty fists to Semeion. Although the blow almost connected with the young mage, Semeion was able to duck out of the way before the strike could do any harm. Semeion changed his grip on his rapier and waited for an opening to strike.

Rhema swung while the creature assaulted Semeion, but her blow was ill timed. Ophee managed to swing and land a solid blow as Rhema missed. When the earth guardian turned to react to Ophee’s strike, Semeion swung. His blow sliced through the air without making contact. Charis had managed to get to her feet and as Semeion swung she also approached the earth guardian to land a blow, but her strike was not forceful enough to land with any kind of authority.

Ischarus had enough of the battle, and once he noticed that the earth guardian had turned upon the more fragile members of the party he knew that it was time to finish the battle. “Thin Zecka Egro!” As he charged into battle his sword rippled with static electricity. His blade swung hard toward the earth guardian and the energy arced across the space between his blade and the creature, guiding the blade in. The strike was damaging enough, but the stored static energy upon his blade surged into the earth guardian and overcame the earth magic that kept it together. The earth guardian exploded. Clay, mud, and even pieces of jade sprayed throughout the cave. The party each appeared as though they had just emerged from a mud bath once the effects of the explosion were concluded.

Ischarus breathed heavily as Rhema approached him. He held out his hand to hold her back. “Wait until my blade has fully discharged. I don’t want you to get shocked.”

Rhema didn’t care. She pushed his blade out of his hand and embraced him in a loving hug. The rest of the party relaxed and began to breathe normally. Ophee, Charis, and Semeion each wiped chunks of mud and rock away from their faces.

Nobody was prepared for the voice of the cave to return. Nobody was prepared for the gift that they were about to receive. “You have proven yourselves worthy. Stay in my cave until the sun rises. My guardian will protect you.” As the voice echoed, another earth guardian formed from the rock wall and exited. Much of the mud, clay, and stone from the previous earth guardian was magically reabsorbed into the cave walls and floor.

Just in case the cave had set them up for a trap, the party lifted their weapons to challenge the new creature at first. Instead, the new earth guardian ignored the party and turned to face outside the cave. It remained constantly vigilant until the sun rose above the treetops and into the cave.
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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 5, 2007)

The rest of the night passed quickly, and in spite of the promises of safety made by the life energy within the cave they continued their watch rotation.  The sun rose well into Semeion’s shift, although nothing had even dared to enter into the cave with the earthen guardian standing watch.  When the sun rose, the guardian melded once more with the wall and vanished from sight.

Ischarus stood and stowed his sword.  He had kept it out beside his bedroll after fending off the assault from the wolf and the first earth guardian.  “I suppose we should be headed out of the cave while the morning is still young.  If the frove was any indication, we may be getting closer to the druid’s grove.”

Rhema sat up and stretched before rising further and speaking.  “The presence of the cave is a good sign as well.  I’d imagine even a misaligned druid would see the importance of having a place for communing with spirits of the earth.  This is the kind of thing that would attract a druid – or so I’d imagine.”

The party quickly prepared to leave and organized their equipment.  As it was, they didn’t need to travel far in the morning.  They each only managed about ten steps out of the cave before spotting a man standing amongst an eclectic mixture of animals.  Immediately to the man’s right stood the frove from the previous night.  On the man’s other side stood the ape and baboons from the attacks in the previous day.  The animals appeared to have been treated and healed of their wounds.

The druid wore a cloak made from the hide of a frove.  The frove’s hide had been large enough to encompass the man’s frame entirely.  The hide from the front legs had become sleeves and the frove’s head rested above that of the druid as if it were the hood of a traveling cloak.  The hide of the frove was long enough that the legs had been able to be removed and still allow the end of the cloak to trail along the ground.  The tail had remained attached to the hide and it trailed along the ground as the druid walked.

Charis paused in mid step as she saw the druid’s cloak.  “It’s strikingly beautiful!”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “I’d personally have it without the head on top, but the fur on that cloak is gorgeous!”

The long dark hair of the frove hide was thick.  It was as though the frove had been well cared for its entire life. There were no scars or marks where the hide might have been violated by tooth or blade.  As the druid lifted up a hand to signal to the party, the hair along the cloak moved like leaves being blown gently by the wind.

The druid spoke in a deep rumble.  “You have violated my territory, abused its protectors, and you still come to challenge me directly?”

Semeion smirked at the greeting.  “Well, so far so good.  At least we’ve made an impression.”

Charis chuckled at Semeion’s sarcasm.  Ophee glanced to Semeion out of the corner of her eye and rested her hand upon the hilt of her sword.  Semeion’s face was solid in its reflection of his inner confidence.

The druid continued to speak when it was clear that the party was not going to offer up a reply.  “My children around me tell me that your skill with your weapons is admirable.  But do not think that your weapons can overcome my abilities.  The magic coursing through these trees and my body will surely devour you.”

Ischarus lifted his voice in reply as the spokesman of the party.  “Are you not impressed that your animals can tell you anything at all?  You should note that they were allowed to return to you.  They could have been slaughtered entirely, but we allowed them to live.  We do not seek their death – or even yours.  There is no reason that death need to be experience even on this day.”

The druid’s face told of a moment of confusion within the druid’s mind.  “If you do not seek my death, then why have you intruded upon my domain?”

Charis spoke next, shifting the druid’s attention from Ischarus to herself.  “I once came from Quehalost and I once thought like you.  But now I have learned a different way.  There can be more to life than power and conquest, mighty druid.  I have been taught the ways of other lands.”

The druid laughed.  “You speak of the civilized lands?  Do you know what the civilized lands would do to my children?  They would label them as freaks of nature and hunt them down.  They would hunt them because of their prowess and ability to protect themselves.  Your civilized lands fear the minds of my children.”

Charis spoke again.  “Not all of us.  These three have taught me to be different.  I do not dispute your claim for all the people of the civilized lands, but I do dispute it as it pertains to us.  We fear the minds of your crea – children.  We fear their minds because it enables them to be more powerful opponents.  But we do not fear them so much as to kill them.  We fear them enough to respect them.”

Ophee spoke, adding her voice to the weight of the party.  “I can attest to these words, master of this land.  When we were first attacked, my associates made it a point not to kill because of the heightened intelligence of your children.  They respect life, although they fear it enough to defend themselves when necessary.”

The druid smiled and replied with a mocking tone.  “Is that so?  Did you respect the life of the earth guardian that you destroyed last night?”

Rhema smiled and returned a reply.  “The spirit in the cave gave us no choice!  The spirit in the cave told us that the guardian must be dispatched before we could earn its favor.”

The druid nearly replied, but Semeion managed to beat him to the punch.  “Come now, druid.  You do not think us foolish, do you?  I know that your knowledge of the earth and its elements far surpasses my own – and likely the collective knowledge of my friends.  But even I know that earth guardians are never destroyed when encountered here.  Earth guardians are sent back to their own place of existence.  If we wanted to truly destroy the earth guardian, we would have needed to meld with the stone and chase the guardian to its place of origin.  Only then could we truly destroy its essence.”

The druid lowered his hand and nodded in agreement.  “Perhaps there is more to you than I thought.  You understand and respect the powers of the land more than most intruders into my domain.  You have earned a chance to speak further.”  As if the animals surrounding the druid could understand the druid’s declaration, they all howled and grunted in response.  It was clear that the animals were not in agreement with the druid allowing the party more time to speak.

Ischarus turned his head to observe the many animals that had come with the druid.  In addition to the ones that they recognized from the prior day, the druid had a collection of large cats, bears, and froves.  It appeared that the druid also was followed by normal wolves, although the difference between an adult wolf and a sub-adult frove was hard to tell from a distance.  Most of the animals gathered around the druid appeared to be yearning for combat.

Charis breathed in deeply and continued the parlay.  “We have come for a root, and that is all.  We do not wish to take any life, and even the plant who offers to give up its root we are willing to respect and take only what will it can grow back without difficulty.  As Ischarus said earlier, nothing need see death this day.”

The druid lifted his hands out to calm his menagerie.  “Tell me, what root do you seek?  How do you know that I have it?”

Ophee grinned.  “My master is highly trained in the art of gathering knowledge.  There is little that he desires to know and cannot discover.  He knows that you cultivate this root in your forest.  We seek the Black Arum.  You may know it as the Stink Lily.”

The druid’s face contorted with curiosity.  “I did not realize such a plant has come into popularity, especially given it’s periodic smell.”

Rhema curled her lip in disgust.  “Smell?”

Even across the span of the twenty or so yards between them, the druid heard Rhema’s rhetorical comment and laughed.  “Yes, smell.  Most plants spread pollen by way of smelling sweet to attract birds, beetles, ants, and even butterflies.  But not the Black Arum.  Its pollen is spread by flies.  In order to attract flies, one must smell of dung or rotting garbage.  When the plant is flowering and spreading pollen, it raises a slight stench so that flies come to it.  That is why it is called the Stink Lily.”

Ischarus appreciated the lesson, but wanted to keep the conversation headed in the proper direction.  “Can a sample of roots be drawn without killing the plant?”

The druid nodded in the affirmative.  “It can be done.  I keep the plant around my grove because of its odd appearance; and as your master certainly knows, I keep it for its medicinal usefulness.  It is currently dormant, so a sample should be retrievable.  But the sacrifice of the plant will require a sacrifice of your own.”

Semeion pursed his lips in disapproval.  “Isn’t there always a catch?”

Charis spoke more loudly to the druid.  “Tell us your terms.  I am sure we are prepared to meet them.”

The druid’s face took on a menacing appearance.  He looked as though he were a frove descending upon a wounded deer and drawing out the kill out of sheer enjoyment.  “What you are asking of me is akin to removing an appendage to several of my plants.  I ask of the same sacrifice.  If you want the root, one of you must be willing to sacrifice an appendage.”

Each of the party members except Ophee balked at the suggestion.  Semeion called out loudly, “You want us to do what?  You want us to give an arm or a leg for this?”

The druid licked his lips in anticipation.  “Precisely.  Either that, or I will release my children upon you and you will all be torn limb from limb.  Either way, it makes no difference to me.”

Ophee stepped firmly toward the druid.  “Take my left arm, druid.  It is my master who is being served, I will make the sacrifice.”

Rhema and Charis both objected in horror, but it was Ischarus who yelled the loudest.  “No, Ophee.  We don’t need to listen to this brainless demand!  No root is worth an appendage!  The plant can grow its root back, but you cannot!”

It was too late.  The baboons fell upon Ophee as soon as she moved.  They dragged her to the druid.  In an instant the druid parted the flaps of his furry cloak and slipped the edge of a falchion between her left arm and her body.

Ophee bit her lip in expectation of the coming pain.  The blade surged upward and severed her arm completely.  Blood spurted out from her shoulder, and the froves standing at her feet quickly licked it off the ground as soon as it fell.  Ophee cried out in obvious pain.  The druid motioned to the ape, and the beast clamped his mighty fist down hard upon Ophee’s shoulder.  The compression of the ape’s mighty fist helped to slow the bleeding.

Ophee soon collapsed from pain and blood loss.  As she fell into the body of the phrenic ape, she could hear the growling of the froves.  Charis had run toward Ophee to help her with a spell of healing, but the froves quickly perceived her approach as a threat.  They instinctively encircled their druid master and snarled until she backed away.  The rest of the party stood in shock at the proceedings, unable to move.

The druid turned and began to walk away.  “I will go and collect samples of Black Arum root of an equitable weight to the sacrifice.  That should appease your master.”

Ischarus drew his sword as the druid turned to walk away.  “I’m going with you!  There is no way we can trust you to keep your word after what you demanded from Ophee!”

The druid turned and smiled.  “You are welcome to join me.  But my bears are under the command to attack any who follow me.  Defeat my bears, and you may come to the private sanctity of my grove.”

Ischarus looked on in horror as the bears began to move to intercept any route that he could take.  These bears were large even for the rough wilderness of Quehalost.  Many of them were taller than Ischarus even while still on all fours.  Ischarus was helpless, and now he was cut off from Ophee even further.

Semeion approached him from behind and spoke softly over his shoulder.  “Something despicable has happened here, Ischarus.  But as evil and misaligned as the druid is, we must believe that he honors his word.  We cannot fight and win.  Ophee knew that.  You know that.  She has served us better than any of us could serve ourselves.  She was more willing than any of us to give.”

Ischarus grimaced at Semeion’s words.  “That sacrifice was not worth it!”

Semeion nodded, although Ischarus couldn’t see the gesture behind his back.  “And I agree.  Rhema and Charis agree as well.  But Ophee felt it important for her master.  To argue the necessity of the sacrifice at this point only detracts us from what is to come.  The sacrifice is done.  We must move forward and ensure that the sacrifice gets back to the wizard.”

Rhema joined the conversation as the bears finished moving into position.  “I agree.  Let’s get home and be done with this wizard.  I haven’t trusted anything that has happened since we approached Eberdeen and Ophee tried to affect the guards.  From that point on, this whole trip has gone from terrible to ghastly.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The rest of the night passed quickly, and in spite of the promises of safety made by the life energy within the cave they continued their watch rotation. The sun rose well into Semeion’s shift, although nothing had even dared to enter into the cave with the earthen guardian standing watch. When the sun rose, the guardian melded once more with the wall and vanished from sight.

Ischarus stood and stowed his sword. He had kept it out beside his bedroll after fending off the assault from the wolf and the first earth guardian. “I suppose we should be headed out of the cave while the morning is still young. If the frove was any indication, we may be getting closer to the druid’s grove.”

Rhema sat up and stretched before rising further and speaking. “The presence of the cave is a good sign as well. I’d imagine even a misaligned druid would see the importance of having a place for communing with spirits of the earth. This is the kind of thing that would attract a druid – or so I’d imagine.”

The party quickly prepared to leave and organized their equipment. As it was, they didn’t need to travel far in the morning. They each only managed about ten steps out of the cave before spotting a man standing amongst an eclectic mixture of animals. Immediately to the man’s right stood the frove from the previous night. On the man’s other side stood the ape and baboons from the attacks in the previous day. The animals appeared to have been treated and healed of their wounds.

The druid wore a cloak made from the hide of a frove. The frove’s hide had been large enough to encompass the man’s frame entirely. The hide from the front legs had become sleeves and the frove’s head rested above that of the druid as if it were the hood of a traveling cloak. The hide of the frove was long enough that the legs had been able to be removed and still allow the end of the cloak to trail along the ground. The tail had remained attached to the hide and it trailed along the ground as the druid walked.

Charis paused in mid step as she saw the druid’s cloak. “It’s strikingly beautiful!”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “I’d personally have it without the head on top, but the fur on that cloak is gorgeous!”

The long dark hair of the frove hide was thick. It was as though the frove had been well cared for its entire life. There were no scars or marks where the hide might have been violated by tooth or blade. As the druid lifted up a hand to signal to the party, the hair along the cloak moved like leaves being blown gently by the wind.

The druid spoke in a deep rumble. “You have violated my territory, abused its protectors, and you still come to challenge me directly?”

Semeion smirked at the greeting. “Well, so far so good. At least we’ve made an impression.”

Charis chuckled at Semeion’s sarcasm. Ophee glanced to Semeion out of the corner of her eye and rested her hand upon the hilt of her sword. Semeion’s face was solid in its reflection of his inner confidence.

The druid continued to speak when it was clear that the party was not going to offer up a reply. “My children around me tell me that your skill with your weapons is admirable. But do not think that your weapons can overcome my abilities. The magic coursing through these trees and my body will surely devour you.”

Ischarus lifted his voice in reply as the spokesman of the party. “Are you not impressed that your animals can tell you anything at all? You should note that they were allowed to return to you. They could have been slaughtered entirely, but we allowed them to live. We do not seek their death – or even yours. There is no reason that death need to be experience even on this day.”

The druid’s face told of a moment of confusion within the druid’s mind. “If you do not seek my death, then why have you intruded upon my domain?”

Charis spoke next, shifting the druid’s attention from Ischarus to herself. “I once came from Quehalost and I once thought like you. But now I have learned a different way. There can be more to life than power and conquest, mighty druid. I have been taught the ways of other lands.”

The druid laughed. “You speak of the civilized lands? Do you know what the civilized lands would do to my children? They would label them as freaks of nature and hunt them down. They would hunt them because of their prowess and ability to protect themselves. Your civilized lands fear the minds of my children.”

Charis spoke again. “Not all of us. These three have taught me to be different. I do not dispute your claim for all the people of the civilized lands, but I do dispute it as it pertains to us. We fear the minds of your crea – children. We fear their minds because it enables them to be more powerful opponents. But we do not fear them so much as to kill them. We fear them enough to respect them.”

Ophee spoke, adding her voice to the weight of the party. “I can attest to these words, master of this land. When we were first attacked, my associates made it a point not to kill because of the heightened intelligence of your children. They respect life, although they fear it enough to defend themselves when necessary.”

The druid smiled and replied with a mocking tone. “Is that so? Did you respect the life of the earth guardian that you destroyed last night?”

Rhema smiled and returned a reply. “The spirit in the cave gave us no choice! The spirit in the cave told us that the guardian must be dispatched before we could earn its favor.”

The druid nearly replied, but Semeion managed to beat him to the punch. “Come now, druid. You do not think us foolish, do you? I know that your knowledge of the earth and its elements far surpasses my own – and likely the collective knowledge of my friends. But even I know that earth guardians are never destroyed when encountered here. Earth guardians are sent back to their own place of existence. If we wanted to truly destroy the earth guardian, we would have needed to meld with the stone and chase the guardian to its place of origin. Only then could we truly destroy its essence.”

The druid lowered his hand and nodded in agreement. “Perhaps there is more to you than I thought. You understand and respect the powers of the land more than most intruders into my domain. You have earned a chance to speak further.” As if the animals surrounding the druid could understand the druid’s declaration, they all howled and grunted in response. It was clear that the animals were not in agreement with the druid allowing the party more time to speak.

Ischarus turned his head to observe the many animals that had come with the druid. In addition to the ones that they recognized from the prior day, the druid had a collection of large cats, bears, and froves. It appeared that the druid also was followed by normal wolves, although the difference between an adult wolf and a sub-adult frove was hard to tell from a distance. Most of the animals gathered around the druid appeared to be yearning for combat.

Charis breathed in deeply and continued the parlay. “We have come for a root, and that is all. We do not wish to take any life, and even the plant who offers to give up its root we are willing to respect and take only what will it can grow back without difficulty. As Ischarus said earlier, nothing need see death this day.”

The druid lifted his hands out to calm his menagerie. “Tell me, what root do you seek? How do you know that I have it?”

Ophee grinned. “My master is highly trained in the art of gathering knowledge. There is little that he desires to know and cannot discover. He knows that you cultivate this root in your forest. We seek the Black Arum. You may know it as the Stink Lily.”

The druid’s face contorted with curiosity. “I did not realize such a plant has come into popularity, especially given it’s periodic smell.”

Rhema curled her lip in disgust. “Smell?”

Even across the span of the twenty or so yards between them, the druid heard Rhema’s rhetorical comment and laughed. “Yes, smell. Most plants spread pollen by way of smelling sweet to attract birds, beetles, ants, and even butterflies. But not the Black Arum. Its pollen is spread by flies. In order to attract flies, one must smell of dung or rotting garbage. When the plant is flowering and spreading pollen, it raises a slight stench so that flies come to it. That is why it is called the Stink Lily.”

Ischarus appreciated the lesson, but wanted to keep the conversation headed in the proper direction. “Can a sample of roots be drawn without killing the plant?”

The druid nodded in the affirmative. “It can be done. I keep the plant around my grove because of its odd appearance; and as your master certainly knows, I keep it for its medicinal usefulness. It is currently dormant, so a sample should be retrievable. But the sacrifice of the plant will require a sacrifice of your own.”

Semeion pursed his lips in disapproval. “Isn’t there always a catch?”

Charis spoke more loudly to the druid. “Tell us your terms. I am sure we are prepared to meet them.”

The druid’s face took on a menacing appearance. He looked as though he were a frove descending upon a wounded deer and drawing out the kill out of sheer enjoyment. “What you are asking of me is akin to removing an appendage to several of my plants. I ask of the same sacrifice. If you want the root, one of you must be willing to sacrifice an appendage.”

Each of the party members except Ophee balked at the suggestion. Semeion called out loudly, “You want us to do what? You want us to give an arm or a leg for this?”

The druid licked his lips in anticipation. “Precisely. Either that, or I will release my children upon you and you will all be torn limb from limb. Either way, it makes no difference to me.”

Ophee stepped firmly toward the druid. “Take my left arm, druid. It is my master who is being served, I will make the sacrifice.”

Rhema and Charis both objected in horror, but it was Ischarus who yelled the loudest. “No, Ophee. We don’t need to listen to this brainless demand! No root is worth an appendage! The plant can grow its root back, but you cannot!”

It was too late. The baboons fell upon Ophee as soon as she moved. They dragged her to the druid. In an instant the druid parted the flaps of his furry cloak and slipped the edge of a falchion between her left arm and her body.

Ophee bit her lip in expectation of the coming pain. The blade surged upward and severed her arm completely. Blood spurted out from her shoulder, and the froves standing at her feet quickly licked it off the ground as soon as it fell. Ophee cried out in obvious pain. The druid motioned to the ape, and the beast clamped his mighty fist down hard upon Ophee’s shoulder. The compression of the ape’s mighty fist helped to slow the bleeding.

Ophee soon collapsed from pain and blood loss. As she fell into the body of the phrenic ape, she could hear the growling of the froves. Charis had run toward Ophee to help her with a spell of healing, but the froves quickly perceived her approach as a threat. They instinctively encircled their druid master and snarled until she backed away. The rest of the party stood in shock at the proceedings, unable to move.

The druid turned and began to walk away. “I will go and collect samples of Black Arum root of an equitable weight to the sacrifice. That should appease your master.”

Ischarus drew his sword as the druid turned to walk away. “I’m going with you! There is no way we can trust you to keep your word after what you demanded from Ophee!”

The druid turned and smiled. “You are welcome to join me. But my bears are under the command to attack any who follow me. Defeat my bears, and you may come to the private sanctity of my grove.”

Ischarus looked on in horror as the bears began to move to intercept any route that he could take. These bears were large even for the rough wilderness of Quehalost. Many of them were taller than Ischarus even while still on all fours. Ischarus was helpless, and now he was cut off from Ophee even further.

Semeion approached him from behind and spoke softly over his shoulder. “Something despicable has happened here, Ischarus. But as evil and misaligned as the druid is, we must believe that he honors his word. We cannot fight and win. Ophee knew that. You know that. She has served us better than any of us could serve ourselves. She was more willing than any of us to give.”

Ischarus grimaced at Semeion’s words. “That sacrifice was not worth it!”

Semeion nodded, although Ischarus couldn’t see the gesture behind his back. “And I agree. Rhema and Charis agree as well. But Ophee felt it important for her master. To argue the necessity of the sacrifice at this point only detracts us from what is to come. The sacrifice is done. We must move forward and ensure that the sacrifice gets back to the wizard.”

Rhema joined the conversation as the bears finished moving into position. “I agree. Let’s get home and be done with this wizard. I haven’t trusted anything that has happened since we approached Eberdeen and Ophee tried to affect the guards. From that point on, this whole trip has gone from terrible to ghastly.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 6, 2007)

*Chapter Six: A SNARE OF THEIR OWN*

It had now been a full week since the party returned from Quehalost.  The druid had indeed returned with a look of pure enjoyment on his face.  The bears parted when they saw him coming in order to allow the druid to approach Ischarus and deliver the Black Arum root.  Ischarus and Semeion each had less than pleasant things to say about the agreement, but they held their strongest emotions in check.  There was no sense aggravating the druid.

Ophee had collapsed from pain and blood loss, but she was not dead.  Surprisingly, the ape had managed to take reasonable care of her once she had fallen into his chest.  Either the ape had been well trained or it was smart enough to realize that Ophee’s life was important to the completion of the druid’s deal.  Once the Black Arum root had been delivered and the druid had retreated from Ischarus and Semeion once more, the ape brought Ophee and laid her at Ischarus’ feet.  Charis immediately approached and revived her through a healing spell.  There was little she could do with regard to Ophee’s arm.

The druid insisted that the party be escorted out of his land until they could arrive at a place where Ophee’s master could safely teleport them back to Eberdeen.  Froves made up the largest portion of the force, but several apes and baboons served as sentries and scouted ahead under the cover of the trees.  Nothing in the land challenged the party with the phrenic host watching their exit from the land.  When they reached the edge of the druid’s forest, the teleport was completed by Ophee’s master.

Of course, Ischarus and Semeion had less than polite things to say to the wizard upon their return.  Most of the dialogue focused around Ophee’s great sacrifice.  The wizard’s reaction to Ophee’s sacrifice was considerably odd.  As Ischarus and Semeion were offering a great display of anger, the wizard merely laughed.  He then proceeded to explain that a wizard of his magnificence had many connections throughout the land, and many of those connections were to high ranking officials in some of the priestly orders.

The wizard examined Ophee, and found her sacrifice in his service to be genuine.  One of the wizard’s connections was summoned and an agreement was struck.  Ophee’s arm was regenerated over the course of several hours through the use of healing magic far beyond Charis’ understanding.  The wizard supplied the full payment of over one thousand gold pieces as a donation to the priest’s order in exchange for the service.

That was the last that the party saw of the wizard for the week.  They had been told that the Black Arum root would need to be examined and tested for its purity. And the process would take a week.  The party was invited to spend their time within the wizard’s quarters until the examination had been completed.  Only once the root was confirmed to be a pure enough sample would the wizard agree to reveal the name of the connection that the party sought within the Ephistaemi.

Surprisingly, the week had passed by quickly.  The entire party spent several stunned days at Ophee’s regenerated appendage and her quick ability to relearn its use.  None of the party had known that such a powerful magic existed in the land, and once Ophee was restored they each felt a bit sheepish in their original objection to the wizard and even the misaligned druid’s requirement of sacrifice.  If nothing else the wizard’s devotion to Ophee’s servitude could not be doubted when he hardly blinked at the cost of restoring her to wholeness.  Yet, over the course of the week they had come to grips with their reactions and the realization that they would likely react that way to any physical sacrifice again even knowing what they learned from the experience.

After the full week of time had expired, the wizard summoned the party to his office and laboratory within the wizard’s college.  In truth, the party was more or less teleported without their permission.  Fortunately, they were summoned at a time when they were simply relaxing and not out in the public.

The wizard greeted the party before any of them could object to the manner of their summoning.  “I have done significant testing of the Black Arum root and am pleased with its results.  It would appear that your quest and Opheiluka’s offer had pleased the druid enough that he gave you a terrific sample of root.  This is one of the most pure samples that I have ever been able to procure.”

Semeion looked up to the wizard and smiled honestly.  “Well, thank the gods for that.  The past weeks have not been exactly a highlight of our lives, and I’d like to think that a sufficient ending like this might make it worthwhile.”

Rhema nodded in agreement and continued to speak.  “I completely agree.  And now that you know the sample is excellent, I hope that your end of the bargain with help us just as much as you have already been helped.  I would like to find out who in the Ephistaemi are responsible for what was done to my father’s villa.  So, what can you tell us?”

The wizard motioned for the party to be seated, and once they were comfortable he took a chair himself.  “As you know, the Ephistaemi are difficult to break into their ranks.  However, can I assume for a moment that you still have access to Darkbringer?”

Semeion and Ischarus exchanged looks and then nodded.  Semeion spoke again with confidence.  “I believe that is a reasonable assumption.  Those who hold Darkbringer are easily contacted and we have an equal exchange of trust.  We shouldn’t have too much difficulty arranging for another time of interrogation.”

The wizard smiled.  “Good.  If that is the case, then your work will be made much easier.  Interrogate Darkbringer again.  As her work with the Ephistaemi should no doubt indicate, she has been given an absolute failsafe that will free her tongue.  I was unable to uncover who she received her orders from, but I understand that her command word was Phoenix.  I believe that choice was appropriate considering what has actually happened to the villa.”

Charis sighed at the connection.  “Let’s hope that the use of the word Phoenix is more appropriate than they expect.  The villa will rise again from the ashes caused by the great fire that destroyed it.”

Ischarus chimed in with a more tactical response.  “So, you are telling me that all we need to do is go to Darkbringer and tell her the command word Phoenix?  That word alone will get her to spill her guts?”

The wizard nodded in the affirmative.  “Indeed.  I am sure of it.  But, might I suggest taking a different form when you do interrogate her?  She already knows your forms and likely wouldn’t believe you when you use the command word.  But, I have need of Opheiluka here for a few more days.  You would be free to use Opheiluka’s image as a disguise when you re-interrogate Darkbringer.”

Ophee’s face crossed with a look of disgust.  “You send me to Quehalost but you won’t allow me to help them in return?  They are headed back to Fingerdale.  Is that not still to be my area for gathering the information that you seek?”

The wizard looked lovingly into Ophee’s eyes.  “My dear Opheiluka, your sacrifice to my cause has shown your loyalty to me.  Of course you will be returned there.  You have more than made up for your earlier blunders.  I need you to remain here for a few days before you return to Fingerdale.  I have a need for you to gather some significant information for me, and I need to train you specifically for that mission.  I did not think it important enough for you to join them to delay their mission for a few days.  Once you have completed your training here and begun your mission in Fingerdale, you would be welcome to join them on the side if they have you.  It would just mean that you miss the interrogation of Darkbringer, that’s all.  You would be welcome to help them in any further capacity, of course.  I trust you to manage your time between my needs and your hobbies.”

Charis and Rhema both felt their stomachs turn at the wizard’s tone.  As women, they were affected by some of the wizard’s control over Ophee, but only so much as to have deeper insight into its presence than either Semeion or Ischarus.  The wizard was obviously controlling Ophee to some extent, but it was not clear as to if the control was simply from a charismatic leadership or from a magical base.  They watched as Ophee’s face melted into his tone and lost the expression of disgust that she had earlier worn.  Her face now appeared as one eager to do the bidding of the wizard.

Ophee replied, “Yes, sir.  So long as you assure me that I will be able to help them in the future, I suppose I can miss out on the interrogation.  I have your word that I can help them?”

The wizard smiled and reached out a hand to caress her chin.  “My word, Opheiluka, is as good as a promise.  I guarantee that you will be able to rejoin their efforts.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Six: A SNARE OF THEIR OWN

It had now been a full week since the party returned from Quehalost. The druid had indeed returned with a look of pure enjoyment on his face. The bears parted when they saw him coming in order to allow the druid to approach Ischarus and deliver the Black Arum root. Ischarus and Semeion each had less than pleasant things to say about the agreement, but they held their strongest emotions in check. There was no sense aggravating the druid.

Ophee had collapsed from pain and blood loss, but she was not dead. Surprisingly, the ape had managed to take reasonable care of her once she had fallen into his chest. Either the ape had been well trained or it was smart enough to realize that Ophee’s life was important to the completion of the druid’s deal. Once the Black Arum root had been delivered and the druid had retreated from Ischarus and Semeion once more, the ape brought Ophee and laid her at Ischarus’ feet. Charis immediately approached and revived her through a healing spell. There was little she could do with regard to Ophee’s arm.

The druid insisted that the party be escorted out of his land until they could arrive at a place where Ophee’s master could safely teleport them back to Eberdeen. Froves made up the largest portion of the force, but several apes and baboons served as sentries and scouted ahead under the cover of the trees. Nothing in the land challenged the party with the phrenic host watching their exit from the land. When they reached the edge of the druid’s forest, the teleport was completed by Ophee’s master.

Of course, Ischarus and Semeion had less than polite things to say to the wizard upon their return. Most of the dialogue focused around Ophee’s great sacrifice. The wizard’s reaction to Ophee’s sacrifice was considerably odd. As Ischarus and Semeion were offering a great display of anger, the wizard merely laughed. He then proceeded to explain that a wizard of his magnificence had many connections throughout the land, and many of those connections were to high ranking officials in some of the priestly orders.

The wizard examined Ophee, and found her sacrifice in his service to be genuine. One of the wizard’s connections was summoned and an agreement was struck. Ophee’s arm was regenerated over the course of several hours through the use of healing magic far beyond Charis’ understanding. The wizard supplied the full payment of over one thousand gold pieces as a donation to the priest’s order in exchange for the service.

That was the last that the party saw of the wizard for the week. They had been told that the Black Arum root would need to be examined and tested for its purity. And the process would take a week. The party was invited to spend their time within the wizard’s quarters until the examination had been completed. Only once the root was confirmed to be a pure enough sample would the wizard agree to reveal the name of the connection that the party sought within the Ephistaemi.

Surprisingly, the week had passed by quickly. The entire party spent several stunned days at Ophee’s regenerated appendage and her quick ability to relearn its use. None of the party had known that such a powerful magic existed in the land, and once Ophee was restored they each felt a bit sheepish in their original objection to the wizard and even the misaligned druid’s requirement of sacrifice. If nothing else the wizard’s devotion to Ophee’s servitude could not be doubted when he hardly blinked at the cost of restoring her to wholeness. Yet, over the course of the week they had come to grips with their reactions and the realization that they would likely react that way to any physical sacrifice again even knowing what they learned from the experience.

After the full week of time had expired, the wizard summoned the party to his office and laboratory within the wizard’s college. In truth, the party was more or less teleported without their permission. Fortunately, they were summoned at a time when they were simply relaxing and not out in the public.

The wizard greeted the party before any of them could object to the manner of their summoning. “I have done significant testing of the Black Arum root and am pleased with its results. It would appear that your quest and Opheiluka’s offer had pleased the druid enough that he gave you a terrific sample of root. This is one of the most pure samples that I have ever been able to procure.”

Semeion looked up to the wizard and smiled honestly. “Well, thank the gods for that. The past weeks have not been exactly a highlight of our lives, and I’d like to think that a sufficient ending like this might make it worthwhile.”

Rhema nodded in agreement and continued to speak. “I completely agree. And now that you know the sample is excellent, I hope that your end of the bargain with help us just as much as you have already been helped. I would like to find out who in the Ephistaemi are responsible for what was done to my father’s villa. So, what can you tell us?”

The wizard motioned for the party to be seated, and once they were comfortable he took a chair himself. “As you know, the Ephistaemi are difficult to break into their ranks. However, can I assume for a moment that you still have access to Darkbringer?”

Semeion and Ischarus exchanged looks and then nodded. Semeion spoke again with confidence. “I believe that is a reasonable assumption. Those who hold Darkbringer are easily contacted and we have an equal exchange of trust. We shouldn’t have too much difficulty arranging for another time of interrogation.”

The wizard smiled. “Good. If that is the case, then your work will be made much easier. Interrogate Darkbringer again. As her work with the Ephistaemi should no doubt indicate, she has been given an absolute failsafe that will free her tongue. I was unable to uncover who she received her orders from, but I understand that her command word was Phoenix. I believe that choice was appropriate considering what has actually happened to the villa.”

Charis sighed at the connection. “Let’s hope that the use of the word Phoenix is more appropriate than they expect. The villa will rise again from the ashes caused by the great fire that destroyed it.”

Ischarus chimed in with a more tactical response. “So, you are telling me that all we need to do is go to Darkbringer and tell her the command word Phoenix? That word alone will get her to spill her guts?”

The wizard nodded in the affirmative. “Indeed. I am sure of it. But, might I suggest taking a different form when you do interrogate her? She already knows your forms and likely wouldn’t believe you when you use the command word. But, I have need of Opheiluka here for a few more days. You would be free to use Opheiluka’s image as a disguise when you re-interrogate Darkbringer.”

Ophee’s face crossed with a look of disgust. “You send me to Quehalost but you won’t allow me to help them in return? They are headed back to Fingerdale. Is that not still to be my area for gathering the information that you seek?”

The wizard looked lovingly into Ophee’s eyes. “My dear Opheiluka, your sacrifice to my cause has shown your loyalty to me. Of course you will be returned there. You have more than made up for your earlier blunders. I need you to remain here for a few days before you return to Fingerdale. I have a need for you to gather some significant information for me, and I need to train you specifically for that mission. I did not think it important enough for you to join them to delay their mission for a few days. Once you have completed your training here and begun your mission in Fingerdale, you would be welcome to join them on the side if they have you. It would just mean that you miss the interrogation of Darkbringer, that’s all. You would be welcome to help them in any further capacity, of course. I trust you to manage your time between my needs and your hobbies.”

Charis and Rhema both felt their stomachs turn at the wizard’s tone. As women, they were affected by some of the wizard’s control over Ophee, but only so much as to have deeper insight into its presence than either Semeion or Ischarus. The wizard was obviously controlling Ophee to some extent, but it was not clear as to if the control was simply from a charismatic leadership or from a magical base. They watched as Ophee’s face melted into his tone and lost the expression of disgust that she had earlier worn. Her face now appeared as one eager to do the bidding of the wizard.

Ophee replied, “Yes, sir. So long as you assure me that I will be able to help them in the future, I suppose I can miss out on the interrogation. I have your word that I can help them?”

The wizard smiled and reached out a hand to caress her chin. “My word, Opheiluka, is as good as a promise. I guarantee that you will be able to rejoin their efforts.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 10, 2007)

Another week slipped by as the party journeyed from Eberdeen to Fingerdale.  Their meeting with the wizard had actually gone better than expected, and in spite of being a bit eccentric he did seem to show a legitimate amount of compassion for Ophee in healing her arm.  As for his eccentricity, there was hardly a wizard on the face of Enigmatica who didn’t display certain amounts of eccentricity.  Even Semeion could be seen as having begun the early stages of eccentric behavior.  They would no doubt increase as he gained in power.  If he continued to adventure into Quehalost, the hope was that the eccentricities could be kept to a minimum.

The party passed Fingerdale on their return trip.  As far as anyone was concerned, there was simply no reason to waste time in Fingerdale without knowing what had happened at the villa.  Rhema felt an urgent call to return home and make sure that the villa had not been attacked once more in their absence.  Everyone else knew that Rhema’s father would feel better knowing about the successful return of the adventuring party from Eberdeen and the mission to which Ophee had called them.

They found the villa in good order, and the plans for construction had moved along quite successfully.  Trees had begun to be cut and many of the foundation rocks had been polished and tested to ensure that the fire had not done irreparable damage.  Most of the rocks had been large enough to resist the searing heat, but the rocks that had been affected were broken into smaller rocks so that the damaged sections could be removed.  This meant that Rhema’s father would need to purchase a small load of larger rocks from a nearby quarry, but that cost would easily be absorbed.  The majority of the damage had been done to the parts of the villa that were flammable.  That would be easily enough replaced by cutting into the forest around the villa.

The beginning of the construction wouldn’t start until the rocks from the quarry arrived.  They would need to be further cut and shaped, and while the rocks were undergoing their transformation the foundation could be cut and laid.  As the party sat and talked with Rhema’s father on the evening in which they returned, they knew that there was little to be done at the villa for a few days.  It would give them the perfect opportunity to head into Fingerdale and speak to whoever was in charge of keeping and interrogating Darkbringer.

The party rode into Fingerdale early on the next day, after spending a peaceful night at the villa.  The stone walls greeted them once more from a distance, and the gate underneath the guard tower had already been opened.  The city was open for business, but it was too early for a considerable crowd to be moving into the city.  At this hour, only the merchants were moving their goods into the protective city walls.

With relative ease the party made their way to the temple.  To save time, they had done this trip on horseback.  They left their mounts tied to the hitching post outside the temple and ascended the steps.  Once more they passed in between the pillars carved in the form of humans and dragons.  Once more they opened the large heavy doors and entered the temple.

The acolyte on duty appeared to not be expecting anyone quite so early.  The acolyte had been resting on a stool, daydreaming off into space when the heavy door creaked open.  In a flash of movement his head snapped in the direction of the entrance and he stood in order to brush away any wrinkles from sitting that had developed upon his acolyte uniform.  “Good day, sirs and madams.  You appear to have come with urgency first thing in the morning.  How may I direct your inquiry into the temple?”

Ischarus smiled at the obvious attempt at the language of the highbrow.  “No worries, acolyte.  You need not impress us with your speech.  We are here on business, and our loyalty to the temple has already been earned by Master Brandt.”

The acolyte relaxed, but he still kept the strong air of servitude about him.  “Is that who you seek today?  I ask because Master Brandt has not yet arrived for the morning.  He is expected, but not usually this early.”

Ischarus nodded in understanding and spoke again.  “Several weeks ago Master Brandt and my friends here were involved in apprehending a woman called Darkbringer.  She was held over for interrogation.  We need to know what has happened to her.  We have found a few more questions to ask her.”

The acolyte bowed slightly.  “We do not have a means of retaining prisoners here at the temple, although we do have a means of interrogating them.  If you know that she has been retained, I would suggest that you turn to the city jail and ask Warden Ferrotte for permission to interrogate.  If you had a hand in her capture, I am sure that your name has been attached to the prisoner’s file to allow you permission to interrogate.  It is likely that the warden will demand to be present, of course.”

Ischarus smiled with hesitation, remembering his last visit to the prison.  “Of course.  Being in charge, I am sure that he will make sure that those who interrogate his prisoners do so honorably.”

The acolyte bowed deeply.  “Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?”

Ischarus began to shake his head, but Semeion spoke before Ischarus could reply.  “Actually, I believe that there is something you could do for me.  Could you let Master Brandt know that we came looking for him?  I would like to update him on the new information that we found regarding our prisoner.”

The acolyte nodded agreeably.  “Of course.  If you would like, I can give him the message myself.”

Semeion shook his head and held out a hand with his palm facing the acolyte.  “I would rather speak to Brandt myself.  He has been a mentor for much of our group here, and it would be a pleasure to see him in person again.”

The acolyte replied, “Very well.  Shall I have him look you all up in the prison during the interrogation?”

Rhema smiled with a bit of a mischievous look in her eyes.  “No.  In fact, why don’t you ask him to locate us sometime after the dinner hour.  He’ll know where to find us.  That way we can debrief him on what we found out during the interrogation.”

The acolyte nodded.  “I’ll give him the message, then.  You are sure he’ll know where to find you all?”

Rhema nodded in the affirmative.  “I am sure.  But just in case, tell him to look in Huetown.”

The acolyte nodded knowingly.  “Very well.  I believe Huetown is small enough that he’ll be able to find you there.”

Semeion smiled at the acolyte’s innocence.  “Oh, he’ll know exactly where to meet us.”

The party turned around in the lobby and left by the front doors through which they had entered.  Once they were outside, Charis reached a hand inside Semeion’s elbow as they descended the steps.  “Why didn’t you want Brandt to join us at the prison for the interrogation?  I would think that Brandt might have a few spells in his bag that could help us out.”

Semeion replied, “Well, if we are going to use a disguise to get the information out of Darkbringer, it’ll be tricky enough to get the warden to buy into a plan in a way that he sees the deception as necessary.  I figured adding Brandt to that mix would only make our job more difficult.”

Rhema added to the rationale of Semeion.  “Besides, Darkbringer already connects Brandt to us.  If Brandt is in on the interrogation, our disguise will not seem as genuine.  We need to make Darkbringer believe the illusion in order for it to work.”

Charis nodded.  “I suppose that makes sense.  Besides, if the wizard in Eberdeen is correct, the key word should get us what we need anyway.  Maybe Brandt’s spells aren’t quite as necessary as I first thought.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Another week slipped by as the party journeyed from Eberdeen to Fingerdale. Their meeting with the wizard had actually gone better than expected, and in spite of being a bit eccentric he did seem to show a legitimate amount of compassion for Ophee in healing her arm. As for his eccentricity, there was hardly a wizard on the face of Enigmatica who didn’t display certain amounts of eccentricity. Even Semeion could be seen as having begun the early stages of eccentric behavior. They would no doubt increase as he gained in power. If he continued to adventure into Quehalost, the hope was that the eccentricities could be kept to a minimum.

The party passed Fingerdale on their return trip. As far as anyone was concerned, there was simply no reason to waste time in Fingerdale without knowing what had happened at the villa. Rhema felt an urgent call to return home and make sure that the villa had not been attacked once more in their absence. Everyone else knew that Rhema’s father would feel better knowing about the successful return of the adventuring party from Eberdeen and the mission to which Ophee had called them.

They found the villa in good order, and the plans for construction had moved along quite successfully. Trees had begun to be cut and many of the foundation rocks had been polished and tested to ensure that the fire had not done irreparable damage. Most of the rocks had been large enough to resist the searing heat, but the rocks that had been affected were broken into smaller rocks so that the damaged sections could be removed. This meant that Rhema’s father would need to purchase a small load of larger rocks from a nearby quarry, but that cost would easily be absorbed. The majority of the damage had been done to the parts of the villa that were flammable. That would be easily enough replaced by cutting into the forest around the villa.

The beginning of the construction wouldn’t start until the rocks from the quarry arrived. They would need to be further cut and shaped, and while the rocks were undergoing their transformation the foundation could be cut and laid. As the party sat and talked with Rhema’s father on the evening in which they returned, they knew that there was little to be done at the villa for a few days. It would give them the perfect opportunity to head into Fingerdale and speak to whoever was in charge of keeping and interrogating Darkbringer.

The party rode into Fingerdale early on the next day, after spending a peaceful night at the villa. The stone walls greeted them once more from a distance, and the gate underneath the guard tower had already been opened. The city was open for business, but it was too early for a considerable crowd to be moving into the city. At this hour, only the merchants were moving their goods into the protective city walls.

With relative ease the party made their way to the temple. To save time, they had done this trip on horseback. They left their mounts tied to the hitching post outside the temple and ascended the steps. Once more they passed in between the pillars carved in the form of humans and dragons. Once more they opened the large heavy doors and entered the temple.

The acolyte on duty appeared to not be expecting anyone quite so early. The acolyte had been resting on a stool, daydreaming off into space when the heavy door creaked open. In a flash of movement his head snapped in the direction of the entrance and he stood in order to brush away any wrinkles from sitting that had developed upon his acolyte uniform. “Good day, sirs and madams. You appear to have come with urgency first thing in the morning. How may I direct your inquiry into the temple?”

Ischarus smiled at the obvious attempt at the language of the highbrow. “No worries, acolyte. You need not impress us with your speech. We are here on business, and our loyalty to the temple has already been earned by Master Brandt.”

The acolyte relaxed, but he still kept the strong air of servitude about him. “Is that who you seek today? I ask because Master Brandt has not yet arrived for the morning. He is expected, but not usually this early.”

Ischarus nodded in understanding and spoke again. “Several weeks ago Master Brandt and my friends here were involved in apprehending a woman called Darkbringer. She was held over for interrogation. We need to know what has happened to her. We have found a few more questions to ask her.”

The acolyte bowed slightly. “We do not have a means of retaining prisoners here at the temple, although we do have a means of interrogating them. If you know that she has been retained, I would suggest that you turn to the city jail and ask Warden Ferrotte for permission to interrogate. If you had a hand in her capture, I am sure that your name has been attached to the prisoner’s file to allow you permission to interrogate. It is likely that the warden will demand to be present, of course.”

Ischarus smiled with hesitation, remembering his last visit to the prison. “Of course. Being in charge, I am sure that he will make sure that those who interrogate his prisoners do so honorably.”

The acolyte bowed deeply. “Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?”

Ischarus began to shake his head, but Semeion spoke before Ischarus could reply. “Actually, I believe that there is something you could do for me. Could you let Master Brandt know that we came looking for him? I would like to update him on the new information that we found regarding our prisoner.”

The acolyte nodded agreeably. “Of course. If you would like, I can give him the message myself.”

Semeion shook his head and held out a hand with his palm facing the acolyte. “I would rather speak to Brandt myself. He has been a mentor for much of our group here, and it would be a pleasure to see him in person again.”

The acolyte replied, “Very well. Shall I have him look you all up in the prison during the interrogation?”

Rhema smiled with a bit of a mischievous look in her eyes. “No. In fact, why don’t you ask him to locate us sometime after the dinner hour. He’ll know where to find us. That way we can debrief him on what we found out during the interrogation.”

The acolyte nodded. “I’ll give him the message, then. You are sure he’ll know where to find you all?”

Rhema nodded in the affirmative. “I am sure. But just in case, tell him to look in Huetown.”

The acolyte nodded knowingly. “Very well. I believe Huetown is small enough that he’ll be able to find you there.”

Semeion smiled at the acolyte’s innocence. “Oh, he’ll know exactly where to meet us.”

The party turned around in the lobby and left by the front doors through which they had entered. Once they were outside, Charis reached a hand inside Semeion’s elbow as they descended the steps. “Why didn’t you want Brandt to join us at the prison for the interrogation? I would think that Brandt might have a few spells in his bag that could help us out.”

Semeion replied, “Well, if we are going to use a disguise to get the information out of Darkbringer, it’ll be tricky enough to get the warden to buy into a plan in a way that he sees the deception as necessary. I figured adding Brandt to that mix would only make our job more difficult.”

Rhema added to the rationale of Semeion. “Besides, Darkbringer already connects Brandt to us. If Brandt is in on the interrogation, our disguise will not seem as genuine. We need to make Darkbringer believe the illusion in order for it to work.”

Charis nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. Besides, if the wizard in Eberdeen is correct, the key word should get us what we need anyway. Maybe Brandt’s spells aren’t quite as necessary as I first thought.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 12, 2007)

The foursome headed to the jail next.  It was still early, but knowing Warden Farette he would already be at his post in the jail.  Ischarus smiled nervously as the jail appeared before him.  “Well, with any luck at all Captain Jacobseille won’t be present in the jail today.”  His displeasure regarding the jail was quite evident through his tone and volume.  He spoke quietly with hesitation.

Rhema’s eyes left the building and her face turned to look upon Ischarus’ worried demeanor.  “Just remember, you’ve done nothing wrong this time.  I’m sure we’ll come out as easily as we went in.”

Semeion joked with his friend, “You’ve never shared much with us about your experience in there with Grick.  You sure you can handle going back in?”

Ischarus cast a sharp look in Semeion’s direction.  “I can handle my own.  The pain that I endured because those idiots demanded that I prove my innocence is behind me.”

Semeion smiled once more and raised an eyebrow.  “Apparently not, but that’s okay.  You’ll not be the one doing the interrogation anyway.  I’d suggest that you stay in the lobby with Rhema and Charis.”

Ischarus wanted to speak out and defend his pride, but he knew Semeion was right.  He hadn’t yet forgiven the captain and warden for their need to arrest him.  He still carried the grudge for the incredible pain that Grick was allowed to thrust upon him in the jail cells.  He wouldn’t be himself again until he passed through the process of interrogation and emerged from the jail a free man once more.  He breathed in deeply before speaking.  “I know, and you’re right.  Are you sure you can handle the interrogation, Semeion?”

Charis decided that it was Semeion’s turn to endure a bit of teasing.  “Yeah, you don’t exactly make a convincing woman, Semeion.  Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

The foursome had a good laugh before Rhema spoke.  By this time they were in the process of tying up their horses to the hitching posts and entering the building.  “Are you sure you need to change while you are in the interrogation room?  Because none of us will get a chance to see your feminine side as it comes out!”

The party continued to laugh as Semeion replied with a mocking tone of sarcasm in his voice.  “Yeah, I’m really sorry that it has to work out that way and all.  It’s just too bad that the interrogation would be more convincing with me changing to Ophee and back inside the room with Darkbringer.”

The door creaked open and Ischarus paused for a moment.  He took a deep breath and entered the building slowly.  They were greeted with the same cold entrance as before.  The window with the protective bars showed a receptionist as it had the last time Ischarus entered with his friends.

The receptionist greeted them flatly with a nasal tone.  “Can I help you today?”  Her eyes immediately went to the weapons that the party carried in with them.

Semeion stepped forward and smiled.  He placed his hands on the small window sill and spoke.  “I was wondering if Warden Farette is in and could be bothered?  I have a request for an interrogation for a prisoner named Darkbringer that is rather urgent.  I am working in conjunction with the Temple of Reah, specifically Pater Brandt.  Could you see if he has time to see me?  My friends will be staying in the lobby until I return.”

The nasal voice passed through the bars and into the lobby once more.  “I’ll see if he can be disturbed this morning, sir.  He is already in for the morning, though.”

Several minutes later the large security door between the lobby and the prison jerked open.  Warden Farette walked through the door, and he had a contingent of five heavily armed guards with him.  He looked at the party and paused when his eyes met Ischarus’ face.  “You have returned under the direction of the Temple of Reah?”

Ischarus knew better than to respond.  The warden had clearly worked in the prison system for long enough to understand that reform was difficult, if not impossible.  In his eyes, Ischarus would always represent trouble.

Instead, it was Semeion’s voice that directed the warden’s gaze away from Ischarus.  “Actually, sir, we have been working with the Temple of Reah loosely ever since our last meeting.  And for the moment, we are working with them strongly.  I wish to interrogate a prison of yours by the name of Darkbringer.  She should have been brought here several weeks ago after having been interrogated by the temple priests.  We have just returned with new information and I would like a new audience with her.”

The warden nodded and looked down upon the docket he carried in his hand.  “And you are, specifically?”

Semeion smiled.  “My name is Semeion, and I come from Huetown currently but Reignsburg originally.  My friends here are Ischarus, whom you already know, and Charis and Rhema.”

The warden nodded in agreement as Semeion read off the names.  He turned and spoke to the guards.  “Axitta, take Semeion to my office.  The rest of you are to remain here and watch these three until my business with Semeion has been completed.”  Each of the guards nodded and the warden waited until Semeion had disappeared into the prison before speaking to the remaining three.  “My guards have access to a magical weapons case.  If you are to remain here in the lobby, I am going to have to ask you to disarm and surrender your weapons.”

Ischarus paused, but Rhema’s voice filled the void and answered firmly.  “Of course, sir.  We will comply with your regulations.”  Her hand immediately went to the fastener that held her scabbard around her waist.  She slipped the scabbard through her hands and passed it to the guard.  

The guard drew the deep blue crystalline sword out of the scabbard to inspect it.  It was clear that he was impressed by the weapon as he pushed it back into the scabbard.  Another guard removed a small wand from a chest pocket in his uniform.  He waved the wand in the air in the shape of a large rectangle.  When he had completed the gesture, a small empty cabinet appeared.  The guard opened the cabinet and took Rhema’s scabbard and sword from the guard who had received it.  The guard in charge of the cabinet hung the weapon within the cabinet and accepted the weapons from Charis and Ischarus as well.  When the warden was pleased with their cooperation, he nodded to the guards and disappeared behind the security door.  The trio could hear the protective locks securing themselves in the wall once the door had closed.

Inside the prison, the warden found Semeion sitting in the warden’s office with Axitta standing guard over him.  As the warden entered the office and closed the door, he spoke to Semeion in a commanding voice.  “Your request for interrogation is approved, but I would like to be present.  Tell me what you plan to ask of my inmate.”

Semeion smiled politely.  “Actually, sir, I believe that once you have heard my plan you may not want to be present.  Instead, do you have magical spying devices that I might wear to allow you to completely observe the interrogation without being present?”

The warden nodded, but a look of concern immediately appeared on his face.  “We do, but it would need to be a special interrogation to use it.  Tell me what you propose and I will tell you if I can accept it.”

Semeion returned the nod.  “Fair enough, warden.  You see, the woman you hold is called Darkbringer, and she was working in conjunction with one called Bloodseeker.  We were never able to find Bloodseeker, partially because we believe Bloodseeker to be protected by Lord Ironblood himself.  However, we performed a small service for a mage of the wizard’s college in Eberdeen in order to have him use his information gathering magic to find any more information that we might find useful.  He was able to discover a code word: Pheonix.  The Darkbringer is supposed to know this word as a command word that indicates that the person who speaks the word is safe.”

The warden smiled.  “And you believe that my presence will make Darkbringer see that you have learned the word in a disreputable manner and thus she wouldn’t trust you?”

Semeion again nodded.  “Quite.  Actually, I plan on being more deceptive than you think.  I plan on entering the room as you see me now and then using my magic to transform myself into the presence of another person.  Of course, it will be a disguise, but I’ll tell her quite the opposite.  I am hoping that my deception of her will actually appear as though I have deceived you.”

The warden chuckled; he was obviously enjoying the plan.  “It sounds as though you have put some thought behind this.  I will do as you ask and view the interrogation through magical sensors.  I should note, however, that the magic sensors are already in place and would be active regardless of whether I was in the room or not.  But I must have your agreement to submit yourself to a magical scan from one of my own officers.  We wouldn’t really want you to be deceiving us, after all.”

Semeion again smiled politely.  “Of course.  You wish to eliminate the possibility that I am deceiving you currently in hopes to get to Darkbringer for a malevolent purpose.  You wish to determine that my current appearance is not the actual deception?”

The warden nodded, and Semeion answered the nod with his voice.  “Very well, then.  So long as your officer tells me the precise magic that he is going to use on me I will freely submit myself.”

The warden looked up to the guard standing over him.  “Axitta, is Teja on duty this morning?”

The guard nodded in the affirmative.  The warden continued to speak.  “Would you be so kind as to call her to my office.  Tell her what is to be expected so that she can prepare her spells.”

The guard left the room without a sound.  Ten minutes later, the guard returned with an identically dressed female.  Semeion’s experience around Ischarus and Charis told him that Teja was a Drakontos by race.  By the look of her metallic tinted eyes, she was of the heritage of a dragon included in the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons.  He relaxed as she prepared her spells.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The foursome headed to the jail next. It was still early, but knowing Warden Farette he would already be at his post in the jail. Ischarus smiled nervously as the jail appeared before him. “Well, with any luck at all Captain Jacobseille won’t be present in the jail today.” His displeasure regarding the jail was quite evident through his tone and volume. He spoke quietly with hesitation.

Rhema’s eyes left the building and her face turned to look upon Ischarus’ worried demeanor. “Just remember, you’ve done nothing wrong this time. I’m sure we’ll come out as easily as we went in.”

Semeion joked with his friend, “You’ve never shared much with us about your experience in there with Grick. You sure you can handle going back in?”

Ischarus cast a sharp look in Semeion’s direction. “I can handle my own. The pain that I endured because those idiots demanded that I prove my innocence is behind me.”

Semeion smiled once more and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently not, but that’s okay. You’ll not be the one doing the interrogation anyway. I’d suggest that you stay in the lobby with Rhema and Charis.”

Ischarus wanted to speak out and defend his pride, but he knew Semeion was right. He hadn’t yet forgiven the captain and warden for their need to arrest him. He still carried the grudge for the incredible pain that Grick was allowed to thrust upon him in the jail cells. He wouldn’t be himself again until he passed through the process of interrogation and emerged from the jail a free man once more. He breathed in deeply before speaking. “I know, and you’re right. Are you sure you can handle the interrogation, Semeion?”

Charis decided that it was Semeion’s turn to endure a bit of teasing. “Yeah, you don’t exactly make a convincing woman, Semeion. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

The foursome had a good laugh before Rhema spoke. By this time they were in the process of tying up their horses to the hitching posts and entering the building. “Are you sure you need to change while you are in the interrogation room? Because none of us will get a chance to see your feminine side as it comes out!”

The party continued to laugh as Semeion replied with a mocking tone of sarcasm in his voice. “Yeah, I’m really sorry that it has to work out that way and all. It’s just too bad that the interrogation would be more convincing with me changing to Ophee and back inside the room with Darkbringer.”

The door creaked open and Ischarus paused for a moment. He took a deep breath and entered the building slowly. They were greeted with the same cold entrance as before. The window with the protective bars showed a receptionist as it had the last time Ischarus entered with his friends.

The receptionist greeted them flatly with a nasal tone. “Can I help you today?” Her eyes immediately went to the weapons that the party carried in with them.

Semeion stepped forward and smiled. He placed his hands on the small window sill and spoke. “I was wondering if Warden Farette is in and could be bothered? I have a request for an interrogation for a prisoner named Darkbringer that is rather urgent. I am working in conjunction with the Temple of Reah, specifically Pater Brandt. Could you see if he has time to see me? My friends will be staying in the lobby until I return.”

The nasal voice passed through the bars and into the lobby once more. “I’ll see if he can be disturbed this morning, sir. He is already in for the morning, though.”

Several minutes later the large security door between the lobby and the prison jerked open. Warden Farette walked through the door, and he had a contingent of five heavily armed guards with him. He looked at the party and paused when his eyes met Ischarus’ face. “You have returned under the direction of the Temple of Reah?”

Ischarus knew better than to respond. The warden had clearly worked in the prison system for long enough to understand that reform was difficult, if not impossible. In his eyes, Ischarus would always represent trouble.

Instead, it was Semeion’s voice that directed the warden’s gaze away from Ischarus. “Actually, sir, we have been working with the Temple of Reah loosely ever since our last meeting. And for the moment, we are working with them strongly. I wish to interrogate a prison of yours by the name of Darkbringer. She should have been brought here several weeks ago after having been interrogated by the temple priests. We have just returned with new information and I would like a new audience with her.”

The warden nodded and looked down upon the docket he carried in his hand. “And you are, specifically?”

Semeion smiled. “My name is Semeion, and I come from Huetown currently but Reignsburg originally. My friends here are Ischarus, whom you already know, and Charis and Rhema.”

The warden nodded in agreement as Semeion read off the names. He turned and spoke to the guards. “Axitta, take Semeion to my office. The rest of you are to remain here and watch these three until my business with Semeion has been completed.” Each of the guards nodded and the warden waited until Semeion had disappeared into the prison before speaking to the remaining three. “My guards have access to a magical weapons case. If you are to remain here in the lobby, I am going to have to ask you to disarm and surrender your weapons.”

Ischarus paused, but Rhema’s voice filled the void and answered firmly. “Of course, sir. We will comply with your regulations.” Her hand immediately went to the fastener that held her scabbard around her waist. She slipped the scabbard through her hands and passed it to the guard. 

The guard drew the deep blue crystalline sword out of the scabbard to inspect it. It was clear that he was impressed by the weapon as he pushed it back into the scabbard. Another guard removed a small wand from a chest pocket in his uniform. He waved the wand in the air in the shape of a large rectangle. When he had completed the gesture, a small empty cabinet appeared. The guard opened the cabinet and took Rhema’s scabbard and sword from the guard who had received it. The guard in charge of the cabinet hung the weapon within the cabinet and accepted the weapons from Charis and Ischarus as well. When the warden was pleased with their cooperation, he nodded to the guards and disappeared behind the security door. The trio could hear the protective locks securing themselves in the wall once the door had closed.

Inside the prison, the warden found Semeion sitting in the warden’s office with Axitta standing guard over him. As the warden entered the office and closed the door, he spoke to Semeion in a commanding voice. “Your request for interrogation is approved, but I would like to be present. Tell me what you plan to ask of my inmate.”

Semeion smiled politely. “Actually, sir, I believe that once you have heard my plan you may not want to be present. Instead, do you have magical spying devices that I might wear to allow you to completely observe the interrogation without being present?”

The warden nodded, but a look of concern immediately appeared on his face. “We do, but it would need to be a special interrogation to use it. Tell me what you propose and I will tell you if I can accept it.”

Semeion returned the nod. “Fair enough, warden. You see, the woman you hold is called Darkbringer, and she was working in conjunction with one called Bloodseeker. We were never able to find Bloodseeker, partially because we believe Bloodseeker to be protected by Lord Ironblood himself. However, we performed a small service for a mage of the wizard’s college in Eberdeen in order to have him use his information gathering magic to find any more information that we might find useful. He was able to discover a code word: Pheonix. The Darkbringer is supposed to know this word as a command word that indicates that the person who speaks the word is safe.”

The warden smiled. “And you believe that my presence will make Darkbringer see that you have learned the word in a disreputable manner and thus she wouldn’t trust you?”

Semeion again nodded. “Quite. Actually, I plan on being more deceptive than you think. I plan on entering the room as you see me now and then using my magic to transform myself into the presence of another person. Of course, it will be a disguise, but I’ll tell her quite the opposite. I am hoping that my deception of her will actually appear as though I have deceived you.”

The warden chuckled; he was obviously enjoying the plan. “It sounds as though you have put some thought behind this. I will do as you ask and view the interrogation through magical sensors. I should note, however, that the magic sensors are already in place and would be active regardless of whether I was in the room or not. But I must have your agreement to submit yourself to a magical scan from one of my own officers. We wouldn’t really want you to be deceiving us, after all.”

Semeion again smiled politely. “Of course. You wish to eliminate the possibility that I am deceiving you currently in hopes to get to Darkbringer for a malevolent purpose. You wish to determine that my current appearance is not the actual deception?”

The warden nodded, and Semeion answered the nod with his voice. “Very well, then. So long as your officer tells me the precise magic that he is going to use on me I will freely submit myself.”

The warden looked up to the guard standing over him. “Axitta, is Teja on duty this morning?”

The guard nodded in the affirmative. The warden continued to speak. “Would you be so kind as to call her to my office. Tell her what is to be expected so that she can prepare her spells.”

The guard left the room without a sound. Ten minutes later, the guard returned with an identically dressed female. Semeion’s experience around Ischarus and Charis told him that Teja was a Drakontos by race. By the look of her metallic tinted eyes, she was of the heritage of a dragon included in the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons. He relaxed as she prepared her spells.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 14, 2007)

Darkbringer had been awakened out of a deep sleep early in the morning.  Guards had come to her and secured her in shackles that prevented the use of her magic.  The cell that she had been given was already warded against magic, but the prison guards knew that once she left the confines of the cell her powers would return.  By using the warded shackles, they could prevent her from using magic upon them in transit.

She arrived and was placed in a room with no windows.  In fact, within the perfect eight foot cubical room were two simple chairs, a very small square table, and a solid iron reinforced wooden door leading out of the room.  The walls had been painted a light gray to match the color of the cellblock below.  This room was no escape from her daily tradition of imprisonment.

She was only present for five minutes before Semeion and the warden entered the interrogation room.  The warden looked to Darkbringer and smiled as if he derived some sort of pleasure in the proceedings.  “You received a visitor today, inmate.  I expect you to play nicely and answer all of this mage’s questions.”

Darkbringer sneered, but she knew enough to not respond.  She looked upon Semeion with disgust.  He was one of the ones that had gotten her imprisoned here.  She knew that if she didn’t have the warding shackles around her wrists and feet that she could take him in a duel.  But that was unlikely.

Semeion turned to the Warden and nodded in a common act of dismissal.  “I think you have made your point clear, warden.  With those shackles, I don’t think she has much choice but to play nicely.  So it is merely up to her to answer my questions.  Besides, if she chooses not to answer my questions I am sure that the priests of Reah, who handled her prior interrogation, would be more than willing to convince her to change her tone.”

Darkbringer’s words lashed out in anger.  “I have told you all that I know!  If you think you can do more to me than the magical aura of truth that the priests used on me weeks ago, then you are welcome to try.  But they got all that they could get out of me then.  Do not expect anything else to come out of me, mage.  Your power is not as great as theirs.”  The statement was more than a threat.  It was a confession of truth.  Darkbringer had responded in honesty regarding everything the priest had asked; and Semeion’s powers were nowhere near as powerful as the priests upon whom Brandt had called.

The warden smiled and put his back to Darkbringer.  “Have fun with her.  There will be three guards posted in the hallway.  The door will be locked from the outside.  Inform them when you are done and they will unlock the door.”

Semeion nodded and waited for the warden to leave.  As he stood in silence, Darkbringer once more lashed out in irritation.  “What have you got for me today, mage?  Let’s get this over with.  Even without my magic there is little you can do to me without your friends.  I have felt your power already and you are nothing without them.”

Semeion smiled as Darkbringer finished her sentence and he heard the locks click shut.  “I personally wouldn’t know, Darkbringer.  For you see, I am not who you think I am.  Your eyes have already deceived you.  Be silent and watch.”

He turned his head to look into all the corners of the ceiling before smiling broadly.  Once he was sure that he had Darkbringer’s attention, he smiled and waved his hands in front of his face.  “Parzuhs Egro.”

Darkbringer’s face took on an aspect of confusion as Semeion changed from his own appearance to match that of Ophee.  He had enough experience around Ophee to be able to make a considerably accurate representation.  Semeion smiled at Darkbringer and spoke quietly.  “You see, they needed to be deceived in order to come and visit you.  If you would like, I can return my voice to normal as well.”

Darkbringer looked upon the image of Opheiluka with suspicion.  “No, this is strange enough.  Just tell me what you have come to say and let me return to my cell.  I could care less about what your voice sounds like.”

Semeion sat down in the chair opposite Darkbringer.  He wasn’t sure if it mattered or not, but he was sure to mimic Ophee’s speech pattern as best as he could.  “My master has sent me to inform you that the time for Phoenix has come.”

Darkbringer’s eyes glazed over at the mention of the code word.  Her bitter grimace vanished entirely.  “Phoenix?  It has come to that already?  Very well, I’ll give you want you request.”

Her tone changed from resentment and anger to that of simplicity.  Between her change in tone and the change in her facial expressions Darkbringer looked as one under a charm spell.  It appeared and sounded as if she was no longer under her own control.  “If the time has come for the Phoenix command, then the one you now seek is called the Whetting One.”

A look of simple confusion crossed over Semeion’s face.  He misheard Darkbringer’s words based on his own experiences over the course of the last week.  “Wedding One?  Is that some kind of riddle based upon the fact that the villa was commanded to be destroyed over the time when it was vacated due to the weddings of the four?”

Darkbringer shook her head slowly from side to side, but continued to show no emotion.  She did not even smile with Semeion’s mix-up of words.  “Not wedding, you imbecile.  I said, ‘Whetting.’”

Semeion moved from intellectual misunderstanding to being perplexed.  “The Whetting One, then.  That is most interesting.  And do you have any instructions for me regarding this Whetting One?”

Darkbringer blinked slowly, as if to recall more information.  “The Whetting One is simply found.  At noon on any given day, you will need to stand beside the statue of the first Lord Ironblood.  The statue of which I speak is the one found in the town square.  When you stand beside the statue, you will need to send out a magical or telepathic message.  The message is simply the name, ‘Whetting One.’  Once you have sent the message, you are to stand beside the statue in the exact place from which you sent the message for five minutes.  Once the five minutes are expired, you are free to leave and go about your business.  Assuming that you follow these directions perfectly, you are halfway to finding the Whetting One.”

Darkbringer breathed in slowly and closed her eyes as if to retrieve more hidden information.  After a few moments her eyes opened once more and she began to speak again.  “There is a white barn exactly two miles south of Fingerdale.  The Whetting One will meet you in that barn at noon on the third day from when you sent the message.  To indicate that you are ready, you are to speak the name of the Whetting One once more.”

Semeion frowned.  “Sounds like a chase full of hocus pocus to me.  What are we, summoning some kind of demonic presence?”  His immediate dismissal of the Phoenix command was intended to throw Darkbringer off, but it failed.

Darkbringer continued to answer in her flat tone.  “I assure you, the Whetting One is indeed quite real – and as personable as you or I.  But there are two more instructions that must be followed completely once you have said the name by the statue.”

Semeion sighed.  He felt like the already convoluted plot was about to get even deeper.  His fears were confirmed as Darkbringer spoke again.  “Once you have sent out the message from the statue, you must be careful that nobody speaks the name of the Whetting One until noon on the third day.  To speak it early will immediately break the agreement and the Phoenix order will be permanently countermanded.”

Semeion nodded.  “Understood.  And the second order?”

Darkbringer closed her eyes once more.  “The Phoenix order is given, and it is not without suspicion.  The one who taught me these commands also instructed me to inform you that you are welcome to lay any kind of protective measures in the white barn as you feel necessary.  The presence of protection, magical or physical, will not hinder the Whetting One’s coming.”

When Darkbringer had finished speaking, her eyes closed and the scowl once more appeared on her face.  “So, are you going to just sit there or are you going to ask me something?  I told you that I don’t have anything else that the priests couldn’t get out of me!  So let’s get this over with.”

Semeion stood from the chair.  It was clear that the Darkbringer had now told all her secrets about the Phoenix command, and she apparently didn’t remember doing so.  His eyes darted left and right as he tried to ensure that he remembered all of the conditions regarding the Whetting One.  The experience was not at all what he had anticipated.  “Actually, I believe you.  My master needed me to hear it from you directly.  You have confirmed his thoughts, and he will be dealing with the situation accordingly.  Now if you don’t mind, I need to disguise myself once more so that I can leave without drawing attention to myself.”

Darkbringer shook her head in disbelief.  “You disturbed me and brought me up here for this?  And you aren’t even going to ask me anything?  Tell your master to not even bother anymore!  Just let me rot in this jail for all I care!”

Semeion muttered a few nonsensical words as a cover for the dismissal of the spell that had made him appear as Ophee.  He gestured again with his hands as his appearance changed.  He called for the guards and indicated that he was finished in the room.  As he left the room, he saw Warden Farette approaching him from down the hallway.  Both Semeion and the warden carried looks of confusion on their faces.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Darkbringer had been awakened out of a deep sleep early in the morning. Guards had come to her and secured her in shackles that prevented the use of her magic. The cell that she had been given was already warded against magic, but the prison guards knew that once she left the confines of the cell her powers would return. By using the warded shackles, they could prevent her from using magic upon them in transit.

She arrived and was placed in a room with no windows. In fact, within the perfect eight foot cubical room were two simple chairs, a very small square table, and a solid iron reinforced wooden door leading out of the room. The walls had been painted a light gray to match the color of the cellblock below. This room was no escape from her daily tradition of imprisonment.

She was only present for five minutes before Semeion and the warden entered the interrogation room. The warden looked to Darkbringer and smiled as if he derived some sort of pleasure in the proceedings. “You received a visitor today, inmate. I expect you to play nicely and answer all of this mage’s questions.”

Darkbringer sneered, but she knew enough to not respond. She looked upon Semeion with disgust. He was one of the ones that had gotten her imprisoned here. She knew that if she didn’t have the warding shackles around her wrists and feet that she could take him in a duel. But that was unlikely.

Semeion turned to the Warden and nodded in a common act of dismissal. “I think you have made your point clear, warden. With those shackles, I don’t think she has much choice but to play nicely. So it is merely up to her to answer my questions. Besides, if she chooses not to answer my questions I am sure that the priests of Reah, who handled her prior interrogation, would be more than willing to convince her to change her tone.”

Darkbringer’s words lashed out in anger. “I have told you all that I know! If you think you can do more to me than the magical aura of truth that the priests used on me weeks ago, then you are welcome to try. But they got all that they could get out of me then. Do not expect anything else to come out of me, mage. Your power is not as great as theirs.” The statement was more than a threat. It was a confession of truth. Darkbringer had responded in honesty regarding everything the priest had asked; and Semeion’s powers were nowhere near as powerful as the priests upon whom Brandt had called.

The warden smiled and put his back to Darkbringer. “Have fun with her. There will be three guards posted in the hallway. The door will be locked from the outside. Inform them when you are done and they will unlock the door.”

Semeion nodded and waited for the warden to leave. As he stood in silence, Darkbringer once more lashed out in irritation. “What have you got for me today, mage? Let’s get this over with. Even without my magic there is little you can do to me without your friends. I have felt your power already and you are nothing without them.”

Semeion smiled as Darkbringer finished her sentence and he heard the locks click shut. “I personally wouldn’t know, Darkbringer. For you see, I am not who you think I am. Your eyes have already deceived you. Be silent and watch.”

He turned his head to look into all the corners of the ceiling before smiling broadly. Once he was sure that he had Darkbringer’s attention, he smiled and waved his hands in front of his face. “Parzuhs Egro.”

Darkbringer’s face took on an aspect of confusion as Semeion changed from his own appearance to match that of Ophee. He had enough experience around Ophee to be able to make a considerably accurate representation. Semeion smiled at Darkbringer and spoke quietly. “You see, they needed to be deceived in order to come and visit you. If you would like, I can return my voice to normal as well.”

Darkbringer looked upon the image of Opheiluka with suspicion. “No, this is strange enough. Just tell me what you have come to say and let me return to my cell. I could care less about what your voice sounds like.”

Semeion sat down in the chair opposite Darkbringer. He wasn’t sure if it mattered or not, but he was sure to mimic Ophee’s speech pattern as best as he could. “My master has sent me to inform you that the time for Phoenix has come.”

Darkbringer’s eyes glazed over at the mention of the code word. Her bitter grimace vanished entirely. “Phoenix? It has come to that already? Very well, I’ll give you want you request.”

Her tone changed from resentment and anger to that of simplicity. Between her change in tone and the change in her facial expressions Darkbringer looked as one under a charm spell. It appeared and sounded as if she was no longer under her own control. “If the time has come for the Phoenix command, then the one you now seek is called the Whetting One.”

A look of simple confusion crossed over Semeion’s face. He misheard Darkbringer’s words based on his own experiences over the course of the last week. “Wedding One? Is that some kind of riddle based upon the fact that the villa was commanded to be destroyed over the time when it was vacated due to the weddings of the four?”

Darkbringer shook her head slowly from side to side, but continued to show no emotion. She did not even smile with Semeion’s mix-up of words. “Not wedding, you imbecile. I said, ‘Whetting.’”

Semeion moved from intellectual misunderstanding to being perplexed. “The Whetting One, then. That is most interesting. And do you have any instructions for me regarding this Whetting One?”

Darkbringer blinked slowly, as if to recall more information. “The Whetting One is simply found. At noon on any given day, you will need to stand beside the statue of the first Lord Ironblood. The statue of which I speak is the one found in the town square. When you stand beside the statue, you will need to send out a magical or telepathic message. The message is simply the name, ‘Whetting One.’ Once you have sent the message, you are to stand beside the statue in the exact place from which you sent the message for five minutes. Once the five minutes are expired, you are free to leave and go about your business. Assuming that you follow these directions perfectly, you are halfway to finding the Whetting One.”

Darkbringer breathed in slowly and closed her eyes as if to retrieve more hidden information. After a few moments her eyes opened once more and she began to speak again. “There is a white barn exactly two miles south of Fingerdale. The Whetting One will meet you in that barn at noon on the third day from when you sent the message. To indicate that you are ready, you are to speak the name of the Whetting One once more.”

Semeion frowned. “Sounds like a chase full of hocus pocus to me. What are we, summoning some kind of demonic presence?” His immediate dismissal of the Phoenix command was intended to throw Darkbringer off, but it failed.

Darkbringer continued to answer in her flat tone. “I assure you, the Whetting One is indeed quite real – and as personable as you or I. But there are two more instructions that must be followed completely once you have said the name by the statue.”

Semeion sighed. He felt like the already convoluted plot was about to get even deeper. His fears were confirmed as Darkbringer spoke again. “Once you have sent out the message from the statue, you must be careful that nobody speaks the name of the Whetting One until noon on the third day. To speak it early will immediately break the agreement and the Phoenix order will be permanently countermanded.”

Semeion nodded. “Understood. And the second order?”

Darkbringer closed her eyes once more. “The Phoenix order is given, and it is not without suspicion. The one who taught me these commands also instructed me to inform you that you are welcome to lay any kind of protective measures in the white barn as you feel necessary. The presence of protection, magical or physical, will not hinder the Whetting One’s coming.”

When Darkbringer had finished speaking, her eyes closed and the scowl once more appeared on her face. “So, are you going to just sit there or are you going to ask me something? I told you that I don’t have anything else that the priests couldn’t get out of me! So let’s get this over with.”

Semeion stood from the chair. It was clear that the Darkbringer had now told all her secrets about the Phoenix command, and she apparently didn’t remember doing so. His eyes darted left and right as he tried to ensure that he remembered all of the conditions regarding the Whetting One. The experience was not at all what he had anticipated. “Actually, I believe you. My master needed me to hear it from you directly. You have confirmed his thoughts, and he will be dealing with the situation accordingly. Now if you don’t mind, I need to disguise myself once more so that I can leave without drawing attention to myself.”

Darkbringer shook her head in disbelief. “You disturbed me and brought me up here for this? And you aren’t even going to ask me anything? Tell your master to not even bother anymore! Just let me rot in this jail for all I care!”

Semeion muttered a few nonsensical words as a cover for the dismissal of the spell that had made him appear as Ophee. He gestured again with his hands as his appearance changed. He called for the guards and indicated that he was finished in the room. As he left the room, he saw Warden Farette approaching him from down the hallway. Both Semeion and the warden carried looks of confusion on their faces.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 16, 2007)

Semeion and the warden locked eyes as the warden motioned for Semeion to return to his office.  Once they were both inside, the warden closed the door.  “Would you like for me to go and retrieve your friends once Darkbringer has been properly returned to the lower levels?”

Semeion nodded appropriately, surprised by the sudden generosity expressed by the warden.  “Sure.  If nothing else, it will save me some time explaining everything over to them again.”

The warden waited until Semeion sat down and then left him alone in the office.  He returned to the office a half dozen minutes later with the rest of the party in tow.  Since there were only two chairs in the office besides the warden’s chair, Semeion rose in order to allow both Charis and Rhema to occupy the seats.

Charis reached out a hand and rubbed it along Semeion’s shoulder as she sat down.  “The warden said that you could fill us in better than he could since you were actually in the interrogation.  Did it go well?”

Semeion pulled his lips to the left side of his face as he thought about the manner in which he wanted to describe the interrogation.  “The interrogation was successful, yes.  And I have the appropriate information – which I can share with you all later on so that the warden doesn’t have to listen to the details again.”

Rhema could tell that Semeion was choosing his words carefully and that there was something about the interrogation that had bothered him.  “Just say it, Semeion.  I can tell by the way that you are dancing around the words that something didn’t go right.  Just say what it was.”

Semeion took a deep breath and thought a bit more about his words before speaking again.  “Well, it is just that I don’t think Darkbringer knew that she gave me any information at all.”

The warden’s head bobbed slowly in agreement.  “Yeah.  When Darkbringer was giving the information that Semeion asked for by using the code word, her tone was flat and emotionless.  Yet before and after Darkbringer gave the information she was combative in tone.  She was convinced that she didn’t have anything else to say at all.”

Semeion continued where the warden left off.  “What’s weirder still is that even after she had finished giving me all the information she didn’t seem to remember doing so.  She acted as though the time spent giving me the information was lost to her.  It is as if once I said the word Phoenix her brain quit keeping track of memories.”

Rhema has listened intently, and the scenario sounded familiar to her.  “Well, it sounds as though it was some kind of mental trick.  The question that I have is whether or not it was some kind of mental game she was playing on you or if it was some kind of brainwashing that she had been subjected to.”

Both the warden and Semeion nodded in agreement, but it was the warden who spoke first.  “Brainwashing was my own first thought, personally.  She was acting as though someone else had taken over control of the interrogation.”

Semeion looked more and more disturbed as the warden’s quick interjection gave him time to think about Rhema’s conjecture.  Charis noted Semeion’s look of disapproval and questioned the young mage on it.  “Semeion, you look even less happy than when we came in.  What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

Semeion smiled briefly.  “I hadn’t considered that we were being played.  Up until now I had assumed that I had tapped into some unconscious memory that had been planted within her mind in case something went wrong with the plan.  I had assumed that much because the mage in Eberdeen was able to determine this course of action.  I assumed that he had discovered the Phoenix command in his research.  But what if we have been played to be the fool?”

Charis turned in her chair to completely face Semeion who was standing behind her.  “By the mage of the wizard’s college or by Darkbringer?”

Semeion merely shrugged.  “I don’t know.  My gut instinct is to say Darkbringer, because we fulfilled the mage’s request of us.  He’d have no reason to cross us as far as I can tell.”

The warden interjected a thought as he recalled the interrogation.  “Do you think that another interrogation might answer that?  We saw how she responded to the Phoenix command.  Would subjecting her to the command once more prove anything useful?”

Ischarus nodded in agreement, “Perhaps.  We could validate her story through another trial.  If the effect was identical, we could count on it being a form of brainwashing.  If she had made up the effect in order to play us, we would know that as well.”

Rhema smiled and shook her head in disapproval.  “Tell me, how did the time when she didn’t seem herself end?”

Semeion turned to look at Rhema.  “Suddenly.  As if when she had said everything that she was supposed to say then she automatically snapped out of her trance.”

Rhema looked to the warden for confirmation and received it in the form of a nod.  “Well, if that is true, then a second pass at the effect may prove nothing.”

Ischarus looked to Rhema and inquired further out of his lack of understanding regarding the mind and ways to charm it.  “What do you mean, Rhema?  If Darkbringer was trained for a response like a dog is trained with tricks, shouldn’t her response be the same?”

Rhema and everyone else chuckled at Ischarus’ analogy.  “Yes, if Darkbringer was trained through repetition.  If Darkbringer was charmed magically or subjected to hypnotism, the process could have been completed by ordering that the knowledge be eliminated at the end of the sequence.  So a second interview might not gain any results at all.”

Charis’ eyes danced back and forth as she thought through the possibilities.  “Wait a minute.  If Darkbringer was given the message without her realizing it, then it seems like it should either repeat identically or else it shouldn’t work at all, correct?”

The warden smiled and nodded as he followed Charis’ thought.  “Indeed.”

Charis continued.  “So, if we interview her again and either of those options happen then we could assume the message was a plant without her knowing the actual content.  As to whether the message was legitimate or not is another question in that case.  But, if she tries to mimic the original presentation and doesn’t get it right, then we’ll know that she was playing us for the fool.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement.  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Semeion shook his head.  “It isn’t so easy.”

Charis turned again in her chair and feigned a frown in Semeion’s direction.  “There’s always a deep thinking mage to ruin a decent plan.”  Semeion responded to her tease with a smile of his own.

Rhema finished Semeion’s thought for him in order to give his interjection a little credence.  “Actually, he’s right.  If Darkbringer is skilled in the methodology of interrogation, hypnotism, or even charm magic she’d know everything I just said.  She could easily feign it and say nothing.  Then she’d have played us twice.”

Ischarus looked down upon his wife.  “You enjoy making life complicated, don’t you?”  He added a loving smile to the end of his accusation to soften the tone.

Rhema replied with a smile of her own and pointed to Semeion.  “Don’t look at me.  He’s the one that started it all with his doubting of her sincerity.”

Semeion smiled at the exchange.  “Yeah.  That is the interesting thing that most people don’t understand about magic.  I used my magic to try and deceive her.  If she knows enough about magic in return, she could use that knowledge to deceive us as well.  Magic seldom solves problems.  Often, it simply creates more problems than it solves.”

Charis looked up to Semeion and asked an honest question.  “So, why do you do it?”

Semeion smiled sincerely.  “Because it’s fun!”  A mischievous look of amuzement passed over his face as he smiled at Charis.

The warden interjected into the party’s excursion from the topic at hand.  “Either way, I want another interrogation, and this time I’m doing the interrogation and you all can watch through the magical sensors.”

An hour later the party left the jail.  They were no closer to knowing if Darkbringer had told the truth or had played them.  Darkbringer had not given any indication that the word Phoenix had any meaning for her at all.  In fact, the mention of the Phoenix command only agitated her because she claimed to not have any useful knowledge and that the warden was wasting her time.

The party’s work in Fingerdale was now done, however.  It was time to return to the villa and plan.  Semeion would describe to the party what Darkbringer claimed the Phoenix command entailed on their way to the villa.  Then it would simply be a matter of waiting for Brandt to show up.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion and the warden locked eyes as the warden motioned for Semeion to return to his office. Once they were both inside, the warden closed the door. “Would you like for me to go and retrieve your friends once Darkbringer has been properly returned to the lower levels?”

Semeion nodded appropriately, surprised by the sudden generosity expressed by the warden. “Sure. If nothing else, it will save me some time explaining everything over to them again.”

The warden waited until Semeion sat down and then left him alone in the office. He returned to the office a half dozen minutes later with the rest of the party in tow. Since there were only two chairs in the office besides the warden’s chair, Semeion rose in order to allow both Charis and Rhema to occupy the seats.

Charis reached out a hand and rubbed it along Semeion’s shoulder as she sat down. “The warden said that you could fill us in better than he could since you were actually in the interrogation. Did it go well?”

Semeion pulled his lips to the left side of his face as he thought about the manner in which he wanted to describe the interrogation. “The interrogation was successful, yes. And I have the appropriate information – which I can share with you all later on so that the warden doesn’t have to listen to the details again.”

Rhema could tell that Semeion was choosing his words carefully and that there was something about the interrogation that had bothered him. “Just say it, Semeion. I can tell by the way that you are dancing around the words that something didn’t go right. Just say what it was.”

Semeion took a deep breath and thought a bit more about his words before speaking again. “Well, it is just that I don’t think Darkbringer knew that she gave me any information at all.”

The warden’s head bobbed slowly in agreement. “Yeah. When Darkbringer was giving the information that Semeion asked for by using the code word, her tone was flat and emotionless. Yet before and after Darkbringer gave the information she was combative in tone. She was convinced that she didn’t have anything else to say at all.”

Semeion continued where the warden left off. “What’s weirder still is that even after she had finished giving me all the information she didn’t seem to remember doing so. She acted as though the time spent giving me the information was lost to her. It is as if once I said the word Phoenix her brain quit keeping track of memories.”

Rhema has listened intently, and the scenario sounded familiar to her. “Well, it sounds as though it was some kind of mental trick. The question that I have is whether or not it was some kind of mental game she was playing on you or if it was some kind of brainwashing that she had been subjected to.”

Both the warden and Semeion nodded in agreement, but it was the warden who spoke first. “Brainwashing was my own first thought, personally. She was acting as though someone else had taken over control of the interrogation.”

Semeion looked more and more disturbed as the warden’s quick interjection gave him time to think about Rhema’s conjecture. Charis noted Semeion’s look of disapproval and questioned the young mage on it. “Semeion, you look even less happy than when we came in. What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

Semeion smiled briefly. “I hadn’t considered that we were being played. Up until now I had assumed that I had tapped into some unconscious memory that had been planted within her mind in case something went wrong with the plan. I had assumed that much because the mage in Eberdeen was able to determine this course of action. I assumed that he had discovered the Phoenix command in his research. But what if we have been played to be the fool?”

Charis turned in her chair to completely face Semeion who was standing behind her. “By the mage of the wizard’s college or by Darkbringer?”

Semeion merely shrugged. “I don’t know. My gut instinct is to say Darkbringer, because we fulfilled the mage’s request of us. He’d have no reason to cross us as far as I can tell.”

The warden interjected a thought as he recalled the interrogation. “Do you think that another interrogation might answer that? We saw how she responded to the Phoenix command. Would subjecting her to the command once more prove anything useful?”

Ischarus nodded in agreement, “Perhaps. We could validate her story through another trial. If the effect was identical, we could count on it being a form of brainwashing. If she had made up the effect in order to play us, we would know that as well.”

Rhema smiled and shook her head in disapproval. “Tell me, how did the time when she didn’t seem herself end?”

Semeion turned to look at Rhema. “Suddenly. As if when she had said everything that she was supposed to say then she automatically snapped out of her trance.”

Rhema looked to the warden for confirmation and received it in the form of a nod. “Well, if that is true, then a second pass at the effect may prove nothing.”

Ischarus looked to Rhema and inquired further out of his lack of understanding regarding the mind and ways to charm it. “What do you mean, Rhema? If Darkbringer was trained for a response like a dog is trained with tricks, shouldn’t her response be the same?”

Rhema and everyone else chuckled at Ischarus’ analogy. “Yes, if Darkbringer was trained through repetition. If Darkbringer was charmed magically or subjected to hypnotism, the process could have been completed by ordering that the knowledge be eliminated at the end of the sequence. So a second interview might not gain any results at all.”

Charis’ eyes danced back and forth as she thought through the possibilities. “Wait a minute. If Darkbringer was given the message without her realizing it, then it seems like it should either repeat identically or else it shouldn’t work at all, correct?”

The warden smiled and nodded as he followed Charis’ thought. “Indeed.”

Charis continued. “So, if we interview her again and either of those options happen then we could assume the message was a plant without her knowing the actual content. As to whether the message was legitimate or not is another question in that case. But, if she tries to mimic the original presentation and doesn’t get it right, then we’ll know that she was playing us for the fool.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Semeion shook his head. “It isn’t so easy.”

Charis turned again in her chair and feigned a frown in Semeion’s direction. “There’s always a deep thinking mage to ruin a decent plan.” Semeion responded to her tease with a smile of his own.

Rhema finished Semeion’s thought for him in order to give his interjection a little credence. “Actually, he’s right. If Darkbringer is skilled in the methodology of interrogation, hypnotism, or even charm magic she’d know everything I just said. She could easily feign it and say nothing. Then she’d have played us twice.”

Ischarus looked down upon his wife. “You enjoy making life complicated, don’t you?” He added a loving smile to the end of his accusation to soften the tone.

Rhema replied with a smile of her own and pointed to Semeion. “Don’t look at me. He’s the one that started it all with his doubting of her sincerity.”

Semeion smiled at the exchange. “Yeah. That is the interesting thing that most people don’t understand about magic. I used my magic to try and deceive her. If she knows enough about magic in return, she could use that knowledge to deceive us as well. Magic seldom solves problems. Often, it simply creates more problems than it solves.”

Charis looked up to Semeion and asked an honest question. “So, why do you do it?”

Semeion smiled sincerely. “Because it’s fun!” A mischievous look of amuzement passed over his face as he smiled at Charis.

The warden interjected into the party’s excursion from the topic at hand. “Either way, I want another interrogation, and this time I’m doing the interrogation and you all can watch through the magical sensors.”

An hour later the party left the jail. They were no closer to knowing if Darkbringer had told the truth or had played them. Darkbringer had not given any indication that the word Phoenix had any meaning for her at all. In fact, the mention of the Phoenix command only agitated her because she claimed to not have any useful knowledge and that the warden was wasting her time.

The party’s work in Fingerdale was now done, however. It was time to return to the villa and plan. Semeion would describe to the party what Darkbringer claimed the Phoenix command entailed on their way to the villa. Then it would simply be a matter of waiting for Brandt to show up.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 18, 2007)

The party was able to ride into Huetown and arrive at Rhema’s father’s villa in the late afternoon.  They had stopped at a few local merchants in Huetown to pick up some food in addition to a few other building supplies that might be needed over the course of the next few days.  As they turned off of the road and began to walk their horses up the long dusty path that lead to the site of the old villa, they could see Iasho walking steadily towards them.  In a few minutes they dismounted from their horses and greeted Iasho with smiles and hugs.  Iasho replied with an equally warm welcome.

The elderly man spoke with a strong voice.  “Your trip was successful, I see!  Even if it was not successful in gathering the information it was surely successful with regard to the bounty with which you have returned to us!”

Rhema smiled proudly, allowing her lips to part as she beamed under her father’s attention.  “Our trip was good on all fronts, if not a bit strange.  We brought the food and supplies out of celebration.  We figured the workers could use a good hearty meal once the sun goes down tonight.  If we start right away, we can get the pit smoking and the meat cooking in under an hour!”

Semeion smiled.  “Rhema, I think we can manage to do it quicker than just under an hour.  Between the matches that Ischarus bought and a few other resources, we can have the meat cooking in far less time than that, don’t you think?”

Iasho grinned at the playfulness of the foursome.  By all appearances they seemed to be enjoying themselves.  In truth, they had come a long way both spiritually and emotionally in their journey back to Huetown.  They decided that in spite of the delays, it might be best to wait a full day before initiating the Phoenix command.  By waiting until noon tomorrow, they would give Brandt an opportunity to hear the details without having to worry about countermanding the Phoenix command through speech.  Brandt might be able to accomplish some research and at least help them narrow down the various possibilities which the Phoenix command might bring about.

Rhema turned back to look at Semeion, and the memories from last summer’s battle flooded back into her mind.  “Oh, I think I know what you mean.”  Her eyes glinted with a slight twinkle.  She hadn’t needed to use her powers for a few days and it would feel good to exercise the mental muscles once more.

The party continued on foot until they reached the remains of the former villa.  Ischarus gathered up some of the supplies that they had purchased and brought back with them and guided Elistra to the opposite side of the ruined villa.  He found the undamaged pit in the ground that had served the villa in cooking food for many years.  With luck, it would continue to serve the villa for years to come.

Ischarus knelt down to the ground and pulled loose dirt away and into a small pile.  Just underneath the surface of the ground he found two metal handles within a cooking pit.  He pulled upwards hard in a jerking motion and the scraping of metal upon metal rang across the length of the villa’s plowed fields.  Many of the workers who were in the process of tending the fields and cutting trees to use in the construction of the villa turned in recognition of the sound.  Many of them applauded briefly at the realization that the sound would mean a healthy meal of smoked meat for dinner.

Ischarus lifted the handles, bringing the large metal smoking oven to the surface.  He slid his hand across the top of the oven until his fingers caught on a lip.  The oven lid slid along the remainder of the top and presented an opening in which to arrange the meat.  Once the oven was opened, Ischarus turned and laid along the ground in order to reach into the three foot deep pit.  He easily lifted a dozen eight inch diameter volcanic stones to the surface.

Rhema brought Shauvry to stand alongside Elistra and released the reigns.  She smiled as her husband had struggled to lift the heavy oven out of the ground and onto the surface.  “If you are going to stock the meat, I’ll start working on the fire.”

Ischarus nodded and smiled.  He knew that Rhema was no pyromaniac, but he also knew that she enjoyed playing with fire from time to time and there was no better fire starter than his wife.  Rhema left his side and gathered a small stockpile of wood and kindling.  It didn’t take her more than a minute to stack the wood in the small chamber so that a fire could take.

Rhema looked pleased when she finished with her work.  “Alright, the wood is ready.  Care to light a match for me?”

Ischarus reached into a pocket fastened to the belt which held his scabbard.  He pulled out a small wooden box and slid the top of the box open.  The box opened with a click and Ischarus removed a single match.  He winked to Rhema as he struck the match along a gray striking plate glued to the wooden side of the box.

As the match flared into flame, Rhema focused her eyes upon its center.  The yellow flame engulfed the round end of the wooden match.  As Rhema focused on the flame, she mentally called the flame away from the wood that fueled its flickering.  Even as the flame left the wood it did not diminish in intensity.  The flame leapt magically through the air as Rhema’s mind sustained its essence.

Rhema used her mind to move the flame down into the pit until it passed into the midst of the kindling and wood that she had stacked at the bottom of the pit.  She held the flame in place with her mind until the kindling began to smolder and smoke.  An instant later the kindling burst into flame.  Rhema moved the flame from the match to several secondary locations in order to catch the wood in the underground oven on fire faster than normal.  In only a matter of minutes the wood in the bottom of the oven blazed so high that the flames licked the top edge of the three foot pit.

Rhema was pleased with the ease that the fire caught.  “There now, give the fire a few more minutes to burn the wood into ashes and then throw the stones upon the ground.”

Ischarus knew the routine well enough to roll his eyes at the instructions of his wife.  “I’ve cooked many meals in this pit.  I know how to do it!”

Rhema snickered and replied with a tease in her voice.  “Of course, dear.”

Ischarus grabbed a four foot metal rod that rested comfortably against a pile of rubble from the villa and waited a few more minutes.  “I do believe that we’ve let it burn quite long enough now.”  Ischarus thrust the end of the rod into the burned wood and many of the pieces broke apart as the ash within crumbled.  Ischarus peered into the bottom of the pit and smiled as red hot embers shimmered back.  “I think the embers are ready for the stones now.”

Rhema lifted one of the volcanic rocks from where Ischarus had stacked them earlier.  She handed them one by one to her husband, who gently sat them upon the red hot embers.  He watched for a moment once all the stones had been replaced inside the pit.

Rhema stood over him and spoke confidently.  “Well, I think we’ve done it once again.  Now, I’ll watch the fire while you stack the meat into the oven with the hickory chips.”

Ischarus nodded.  He reached into Elistra’s saddlebag and pulled out a small bundle of wet towels.  With a few simple strokes of his hand he unraveled the wet wrappings.  Several small well moistened chips of hickory sat inside the bundle.  Ischarus smiled as he arranged the chips in the bottom of the smoking oven.

Semeion and Charis led Thana and Abijou around the side of the burned down villa once they saw that the fire had caught and the oven was ready to be filled.  They bid Iasho goodbye with a promise to have dinner ready shortly after the sun set.  Once they had joined Ischarus and Charis on the far side of the villa, they began to untie the fowl and large cuts of beef that they had purchased at the market.  

Ischarus received the meat and arranged it in the oven, making sure that the hickory chips remained uncovered so that the smoke would penetrate the entire oven.  Once he was pleased with how the meat was arranged, he slid the oven door lid closed and made sure it was tight.  “Don’t want any dirt to get in and spoil the meat, do we?  Charis, would you mind giving me a hand to put the oven back in the ground?”

Charis smiled and clasped the handle nearest to her with both hands.  Together, Ischarus and Charis lifted the oven and lowered it into the ground until it rested upon the well heated volcanic rocks.  With a little effort the oven lid was covered with loose dirt that rested beside the pit for just this purpose.  The ground would seal in the heat that was given off by the volcanic stones.

A familiar voice spoke from the opposite side of Elistra and Shauvry.  “Well, that looks like a mighty feast.  I’m glad I came!  Should be ready in a few hours, no?”

Ischarus and Semeion both stood and looked with expectation in the direction of the voice, yet it was Rhema who spoke first.  She had been standing and in good position to see the newcomer approach.  “Brandt?  You got our message!”

Brandt smiled at the greeting and shook hands with each member of the foursome.  “Yep, I got your message.  Trust me when I say that it was difficult to stay away all day.  But your message said to seek you out here at the villa in order to find out what you all learned in Eberdeen.  I figured that I’d come a little early and see if there was anything that my magic could do to help with regard to the villa’s reconstruction.”

Rhema nodded.  “Of course.  Why don’t we let the meat cook and absorb the smoke while we go find something to do?  We can return to this discussion around the fire this evening when our bellies are full and our muscles are tired.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party was able to ride into Huetown and arrive at Rhema’s father’s villa in the late afternoon. They had stopped at a few local merchants in Huetown to pick up some food in addition to a few other building supplies that might be needed over the course of the next few days. As they turned off of the road and began to walk their horses up the long dusty path that lead to the site of the old villa, they could see Iasho walking steadily towards them. In a few minutes they dismounted from their horses and greeted Iasho with smiles and hugs. Iasho replied with an equally warm welcome.

The elderly man spoke with a strong voice. “Your trip was successful, I see! Even if it was not successful in gathering the information it was surely successful with regard to the bounty with which you have returned to us!”

Rhema smiled proudly, allowing her lips to part as she beamed under her father’s attention. “Our trip was good on all fronts, if not a bit strange. We brought the food and supplies out of celebration. We figured the workers could use a good hearty meal once the sun goes down tonight. If we start right away, we can get the pit smoking and the meat cooking in under an hour!”

Semeion smiled. “Rhema, I think we can manage to do it quicker than just under an hour. Between the matches that Ischarus bought and a few other resources, we can have the meat cooking in far less time than that, don’t you think?”

Iasho grinned at the playfulness of the foursome. By all appearances they seemed to be enjoying themselves. In truth, they had come a long way both spiritually and emotionally in their journey back to Huetown. They decided that in spite of the delays, it might be best to wait a full day before initiating the Phoenix command. By waiting until noon tomorrow, they would give Brandt an opportunity to hear the details without having to worry about countermanding the Phoenix command through speech. Brandt might be able to accomplish some research and at least help them narrow down the various possibilities which the Phoenix command might bring about.

Rhema turned back to look at Semeion, and the memories from last summer’s battle flooded back into her mind. “Oh, I think I know what you mean.” Her eyes glinted with a slight twinkle. She hadn’t needed to use her powers for a few days and it would feel good to exercise the mental muscles once more.

The party continued on foot until they reached the remains of the former villa. Ischarus gathered up some of the supplies that they had purchased and brought back with them and guided Elistra to the opposite side of the ruined villa. He found the undamaged pit in the ground that had served the villa in cooking food for many years. With luck, it would continue to serve the villa for years to come.

Ischarus knelt down to the ground and pulled loose dirt away and into a small pile. Just underneath the surface of the ground he found two metal handles within a cooking pit. He pulled upwards hard in a jerking motion and the scraping of metal upon metal rang across the length of the villa’s plowed fields. Many of the workers who were in the process of tending the fields and cutting trees to use in the construction of the villa turned in recognition of the sound. Many of them applauded briefly at the realization that the sound would mean a healthy meal of smoked meat for dinner.

Ischarus lifted the handles, bringing the large metal smoking oven to the surface. He slid his hand across the top of the oven until his fingers caught on a lip. The oven lid slid along the remainder of the top and presented an opening in which to arrange the meat. Once the oven was opened, Ischarus turned and laid along the ground in order to reach into the three foot deep pit. He easily lifted a dozen eight inch diameter volcanic stones to the surface.

Rhema brought Shauvry to stand alongside Elistra and released the reigns. She smiled as her husband had struggled to lift the heavy oven out of the ground and onto the surface. “If you are going to stock the meat, I’ll start working on the fire.”

Ischarus nodded and smiled. He knew that Rhema was no pyromaniac, but he also knew that she enjoyed playing with fire from time to time and there was no better fire starter than his wife. Rhema left his side and gathered a small stockpile of wood and kindling. It didn’t take her more than a minute to stack the wood in the small chamber so that a fire could take.

Rhema looked pleased when she finished with her work. “Alright, the wood is ready. Care to light a match for me?”

Ischarus reached into a pocket fastened to the belt which held his scabbard. He pulled out a small wooden box and slid the top of the box open. The box opened with a click and Ischarus removed a single match. He winked to Rhema as he struck the match along a gray striking plate glued to the wooden side of the box.

As the match flared into flame, Rhema focused her eyes upon its center. The yellow flame engulfed the round end of the wooden match. As Rhema focused on the flame, she mentally called the flame away from the wood that fueled its flickering. Even as the flame left the wood it did not diminish in intensity. The flame leapt magically through the air as Rhema’s mind sustained its essence.

Rhema used her mind to move the flame down into the pit until it passed into the midst of the kindling and wood that she had stacked at the bottom of the pit. She held the flame in place with her mind until the kindling began to smolder and smoke. An instant later the kindling burst into flame. Rhema moved the flame from the match to several secondary locations in order to catch the wood in the underground oven on fire faster than normal. In only a matter of minutes the wood in the bottom of the oven blazed so high that the flames licked the top edge of the three foot pit.

Rhema was pleased with the ease that the fire caught. “There now, give the fire a few more minutes to burn the wood into ashes and then throw the stones upon the ground.”

Ischarus knew the routine well enough to roll his eyes at the instructions of his wife. “I’ve cooked many meals in this pit. I know how to do it!”

Rhema snickered and replied with a tease in her voice. “Of course, dear.”

Ischarus grabbed a four foot metal rod that rested comfortably against a pile of rubble from the villa and waited a few more minutes. “I do believe that we’ve let it burn quite long enough now.” Ischarus thrust the end of the rod into the burned wood and many of the pieces broke apart as the ash within crumbled. Ischarus peered into the bottom of the pit and smiled as red hot embers shimmered back. “I think the embers are ready for the stones now.”

Rhema lifted one of the volcanic rocks from where Ischarus had stacked them earlier. She handed them one by one to her husband, who gently sat them upon the red hot embers. He watched for a moment once all the stones had been replaced inside the pit.

Rhema stood over him and spoke confidently. “Well, I think we’ve done it once again. Now, I’ll watch the fire while you stack the meat into the oven with the hickory chips.”

Ischarus nodded. He reached into Elistra’s saddlebag and pulled out a small bundle of wet towels. With a few simple strokes of his hand he unraveled the wet wrappings. Several small well moistened chips of hickory sat inside the bundle. Ischarus smiled as he arranged the chips in the bottom of the smoking oven.

Semeion and Charis led Thana and Abijou around the side of the burned down villa once they saw that the fire had caught and the oven was ready to be filled. They bid Iasho goodbye with a promise to have dinner ready shortly after the sun set. Once they had joined Ischarus and Charis on the far side of the villa, they began to untie the fowl and large cuts of beef that they had purchased at the market. 

Ischarus received the meat and arranged it in the oven, making sure that the hickory chips remained uncovered so that the smoke would penetrate the entire oven. Once he was pleased with how the meat was arranged, he slid the oven door lid closed and made sure it was tight. “Don’t want any dirt to get in and spoil the meat, do we? Charis, would you mind giving me a hand to put the oven back in the ground?”

Charis smiled and clasped the handle nearest to her with both hands. Together, Ischarus and Charis lifted the oven and lowered it into the ground until it rested upon the well heated volcanic rocks. With a little effort the oven lid was covered with loose dirt that rested beside the pit for just this purpose. The ground would seal in the heat that was given off by the volcanic stones.

A familiar voice spoke from the opposite side of Elistra and Shauvry. “Well, that looks like a mighty feast. I’m glad I came! Should be ready in a few hours, no?”

Ischarus and Semeion both stood and looked with expectation in the direction of the voice, yet it was Rhema who spoke first. She had been standing and in good position to see the newcomer approach. “Brandt? You got our message!”

Brandt smiled at the greeting and shook hands with each member of the foursome. “Yep, I got your message. Trust me when I say that it was difficult to stay away all day. But your message said to seek you out here at the villa in order to find out what you all learned in Eberdeen. I figured that I’d come a little early and see if there was anything that my magic could do to help with regard to the villa’s reconstruction.”

Rhema nodded. “Of course. Why don’t we let the meat cook and absorb the smoke while we go find something to do? We can return to this discussion around the fire this evening when our bellies are full and our muscles are tired.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 20, 2007)

The remainder of the day’s labor seemed to pass by slowly on account of anticipation of the coming meal.  Fortunately, the underground nature of the cooking oven prevented the aromatic smell of the hickory smoked meat from tempting people’s minds and stomachs even further.  There was little that could be smelled of the meat until after sun down when Ischarus dug the ground out from above the oven.  The metal oven had grown as warm as the volcanic stones within the ground and required the handles to be wrapped in hide in order to lift the oven out from the ground.  Once the oven was removed and the lid was opened, the smell of the smoke and hickory flooded the entire villa.  It wasn’t long before hungry servants had gathered around and the meat was enjoyed.

Charis had carried in several melons from the market, and their orange pulpy flesh was particularly sweet in contrast to the more biting hickory and smoke flavor of the meat.  She had taken to slicing the melons into quarters and removing the inner seeds while the meat was cooking underground.  She had also purchased several long loaves of bread that she quickly sliced as Ischarus uncovered the underground oven.  By the time she was needed to lift the oven out of the ground, the melons and the bread were set on a table and ready to be served buffet style.

The meal was quite satisfying for the servants of the villa after the long day’s labor.  The meal was also satisfying to the adventurers as they celebrated their safe return and continuation of their quest to find the individual or organization that was responsible for the destruction at the villa.  It was to this topic that the conversation between Iasho, Brandt, and the party turned once the food had been consumed.

A light breeze passed among the six as Brandt reintroduced the topic.  “So, you left a message saying that you had news and I was to seek you out.  Fortunately for me you asked me to come for dinner, too!  But seeing as how dinner has now passed, tell me of the news.  What have you managed to learn from Darkbringer – and how did you find it?”

Semeion smiled, knowing that magic had a great deal to do with their discoveries.  Magic was necessary for the travel to Quehalost; and magic had been necessary for the wizard in Eberdeen to discover the Phoenix command.  “We were approached by a servant of a wizard who works within the wizard’s college in Eberdeen.  He was a self-proclaimed master of information and indicated to us that if we exchanged services he would be willing to use his talents to help us out.  He needed a group of people to collect some spell components, largely because I think that his time in the college has made him soft for adventuring.  But in exchange for the collection of spell components, he gave us what we have come to call the Phoenix command.”

Brandt’s eyebrows wrinkled as Semeion spoke the cryptic name.  “Phoenix, as in the bird?”

Ischarus nodded.  “The one and the same as far as we can tell.  Of course, that was part of why we asked you to come.  We assumed that you would have more knowledge about these kinds of names than we would.”

Brandt chuckled at Ischarus’ compliment.  “Certainly a wise precaution, especially when dealing with strange magicians and cryptic names.  So what did this Phoenix command earn you all?”

Rhema took over the telling of the story for a short while.  “Well, the wizard in Eberdeen informed us that while he could not discern Darkbringer’s true purpose or the ones who had sent her, he did tell us that he was able to discover a command word that would unlock some of her instruction.  Hence, we learned about the purpose of the Phoenix command.  The wizard in Eberdeen said that if we used that command in the presence of Darkbringer that she would divulge more private information.”

Iasho asked the next question well before Brandt found himself ready.  “Well, what did the Phoenix command get from Darkbringer?”

Semeion spoke quickly, realizing that this was really his story to tell.  After all, it was Semeion who had actually been a part of the interrogation process.  “To be honest, not much.  At noon on any day we are to go to the statue of Lord Ironblood in the central square of Fingerdale.  From there, we are to send out a magical or telepathic message for the Whetting One. Three days later we are supposed to show up at noon in a barn south of Fingerdale and meet the Whetting One.  Apparently the Whetting One is the one with the next level of information that we need.”

Iasho chuckled at Semeion’s retelling of the instructions, but this time it was Brandt who beat Iasho to the response.  “Well, that’s certainly interesting to say the least.”  He stroked his chin as he thought about the details given by Darkbringer.  “It seems rather harmless, all in all.”

Semeion looked to Brandt and held his glance for a moment before speaking.  “Do you really think so?  We’re not being set up to accomplish somebody else’s hidden agenda?  I mean, those instruction just seem so odd.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “Yeah.  This may sound silly, but the last thing that we’d want to do is to summon something from another realm into this world without knowing what we are doing.”

Brandt shook his head in disagreement.  “Well, you need not worry about being the cause of summoning something into our world.  The directions that you just told me wouldn’t be strong enough to pierce through any worldly barriers with any accuracy.  The directions that you gave are simple.  Something has to be watching or listening for such a general broadcast.  That something would have to be here in this world already – and probably not all that far from the town square, too.”

Ischarus relaxed and leaned backwards.  “Well that certainly puts me at ease, knowing that we won’t be summoning some sort of other worldly creature.  But what do you make of the Phoenix command?  It seems a bit contrived to me.”

Brandt nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, it certainly seems difficult to believe.  It has been about a month since Darkbringer was first captured?  Certainly there hasn’t been an agent monitoring the square in Fingerdale every noon since then.  That would be an incredible waste of resources from the stance of the Ephistaemi.”

Iasho nodded in agreement.  “I concur.  Something about this doesn’t make sense.  It is either a poorly conceived emergency plan or else there is much more about it than we can grasp from the details given to us by Darkbringer.”

Charis looked back to Brandt once Iasho finished speaking.  “But, as far as you are aware the name ‘Whetting One’ is meaningless and without some kind of deeper meaning?”

Brandt nodded in assurance to Charis’ question.  “As far as I know, that’s correct.  I’ll happily do some research for you and let you know tomorrow.  I’m assuming that you were planning on enacting the Phoenix command tomorrow at noon?”

Ischarus smiled briefly.  “Unless you find reason otherwise, yes.”

Brandt continued to nod in agreement.  “Good.”

Semeion interjected a concluding thought as the conversation about the Phoenix command seemed to be winding down.  “One more thing, Brandt.  Once the Phoenix command is enacted, the name ‘Whetting One’ must not be spoken until noon on the third day in the barn south of Fingerdale.  Apparently the mere mention of the name countermands the Phoenix command.”

Brandt turned and watched Semeion as he described this final instruction.  His eyes narrowed slightly and a look of displeasure crossed his face.  “That’s the first thing you’ve told me today that I really don’t like at all.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The remainder of the day’s labor seemed to pass by slowly on account of anticipation of the coming meal. Fortunately, the underground nature of the cooking oven prevented the aromatic smell of the hickory smoked meat from tempting people’s minds and stomachs even further. There was little that could be smelled of the meat until after sun down when Ischarus dug the ground out from above the oven. The metal oven had grown as warm as the volcanic stones within the ground and required the handles to be wrapped in hide in order to lift the oven out from the ground. Once the oven was removed and the lid was opened, the smell of the smoke and hickory flooded the entire villa. It wasn’t long before hungry servants had gathered around and the meat was enjoyed.

Charis had carried in several melons from the market, and their orange pulpy flesh was particularly sweet in contrast to the more biting hickory and smoke flavor of the meat. She had taken to slicing the melons into quarters and removing the inner seeds while the meat was cooking underground. She had also purchased several long loaves of bread that she quickly sliced as Ischarus uncovered the underground oven. By the time she was needed to lift the oven out of the ground, the melons and the bread were set on a table and ready to be served buffet style.

The meal was quite satisfying for the servants of the villa after the long day’s labor. The meal was also satisfying to the adventurers as they celebrated their safe return and continuation of their quest to find the individual or organization that was responsible for the destruction at the villa. It was to this topic that the conversation between Iasho, Brandt, and the party turned once the food had been consumed.

A light breeze passed among the six as Brandt reintroduced the topic. “So, you left a message saying that you had news and I was to seek you out. Fortunately for me you asked me to come for dinner, too! But seeing as how dinner has now passed, tell me of the news. What have you managed to learn from Darkbringer – and how did you find it?”

Semeion smiled, knowing that magic had a great deal to do with their discoveries. Magic was necessary for the travel to Quehalost; and magic had been necessary for the wizard in Eberdeen to discover the Phoenix command. “We were approached by a servant of a wizard who works within the wizard’s college in Eberdeen. He was a self-proclaimed master of information and indicated to us that if we exchanged services he would be willing to use his talents to help us out. He needed a group of people to collect some spell components, largely because I think that his time in the college has made him soft for adventuring. But in exchange for the collection of spell components, he gave us what we have come to call the Phoenix command.”

Brandt’s eyebrows wrinkled as Semeion spoke the cryptic name. “Phoenix, as in the bird?”

Ischarus nodded. “The one and the same as far as we can tell. Of course, that was part of why we asked you to come. We assumed that you would have more knowledge about these kinds of names than we would.”

Brandt chuckled at Ischarus’ compliment. “Certainly a wise precaution, especially when dealing with strange magicians and cryptic names. So what did this Phoenix command earn you all?”

Rhema took over the telling of the story for a short while. “Well, the wizard in Eberdeen informed us that while he could not discern Darkbringer’s true purpose or the ones who had sent her, he did tell us that he was able to discover a command word that would unlock some of her instruction. Hence, we learned about the purpose of the Phoenix command. The wizard in Eberdeen said that if we used that command in the presence of Darkbringer that she would divulge more private information.”

Iasho asked the next question well before Brandt found himself ready. “Well, what did the Phoenix command get from Darkbringer?”

Semeion spoke quickly, realizing that this was really his story to tell. After all, it was Semeion who had actually been a part of the interrogation process. “To be honest, not much. At noon on any day we are to go to the statue of Lord Ironblood in the central square of Fingerdale. From there, we are to send out a magical or telepathic message for the Whetting One. Three days later we are supposed to show up at noon in a barn south of Fingerdale and meet the Whetting One. Apparently the Whetting One is the one with the next level of information that we need.”

Iasho chuckled at Semeion’s retelling of the instructions, but this time it was Brandt who beat Iasho to the response. “Well, that’s certainly interesting to say the least.” He stroked his chin as he thought about the details given by Darkbringer. “It seems rather harmless, all in all.”

Semeion looked to Brandt and held his glance for a moment before speaking. “Do you really think so? We’re not being set up to accomplish somebody else’s hidden agenda? I mean, those instruction just seem so odd.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “Yeah. This may sound silly, but the last thing that we’d want to do is to summon something from another realm into this world without knowing what we are doing.”

Brandt shook his head in disagreement. “Well, you need not worry about being the cause of summoning something into our world. The directions that you just told me wouldn’t be strong enough to pierce through any worldly barriers with any accuracy. The directions that you gave are simple. Something has to be watching or listening for such a general broadcast. That something would have to be here in this world already – and probably not all that far from the town square, too.”

Ischarus relaxed and leaned backwards. “Well that certainly puts me at ease, knowing that we won’t be summoning some sort of other worldly creature. But what do you make of the Phoenix command? It seems a bit contrived to me.”

Brandt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it certainly seems difficult to believe. It has been about a month since Darkbringer was first captured? Certainly there hasn’t been an agent monitoring the square in Fingerdale every noon since then. That would be an incredible waste of resources from the stance of the Ephistaemi.”

Iasho nodded in agreement. “I concur. Something about this doesn’t make sense. It is either a poorly conceived emergency plan or else there is much more about it than we can grasp from the details given to us by Darkbringer.”

Charis looked back to Brandt once Iasho finished speaking. “But, as far as you are aware the name ‘Whetting One’ is meaningless and without some kind of deeper meaning?”

Brandt nodded in assurance to Charis’ question. “As far as I know, that’s correct. I’ll happily do some research for you and let you know tomorrow. I’m assuming that you were planning on enacting the Phoenix command tomorrow at noon?”

Ischarus smiled briefly. “Unless you find reason otherwise, yes.”

Brandt continued to nod in agreement. “Good.”

Semeion interjected a concluding thought as the conversation about the Phoenix command seemed to be winding down. “One more thing, Brandt. Once the Phoenix command is enacted, the name ‘Whetting One’ must not be spoken until noon on the third day in the barn south of Fingerdale. Apparently the mere mention of the name countermands the Phoenix command.”

Brandt turned and watched Semeion as he described this final instruction. His eyes narrowed slightly and a look of displeasure crossed his face. “That’s the first thing you’ve told me today that I really don’t like at all.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 24, 2007)

Ischarus turned to Brandt at the sudden change in tone.  “What bothers you about the fact that we cannot speak the name ‘Whetting One’ once we visit the square at noon?”

Brandt slowly shook his head.  “In truth, it is nothing in particular.  It is more that it just doesn’t make sense.  There is nothing that you are asked to do that raises any significant flag in my understanding of how magic is supposed to work.  You aren’t going to be reaching across any boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.  You are going to be sending out a simple message that will only be perceivable by someone here in this world.”

Rhema nodded in agreement and asked a question before Brandt could finish his thought.  “So, are you fearing that there is some dark disturbance already existing here in Tongra?  Perhaps we attracted attention our last time in Quehalost through the defeat of Charis’ father dragon?”

Iasho seemed to make the mental leap to finish out Rhema’s thought before the others could draw the same conclusions.  “Are you suggesting that a force might have followed you all out of Quehalsost?  A force that was capable of destroying the villa?”

Brandt shook his head.  “I doubt that such a force is present in Fingerdale.  It is remotely possible, I suppose.  However, it has been a month since the accident at the villa.  It’s actually been a year since you all returned from Quehalost with the dragons and Charis’ clan.  If a presence followed you back from Quehalost, surely we would have found out about it by now.  Even if that presence would have only come to Tongra when the villa was destroyed, we would have undoubtedly found out about it by now.  A presence capable of leveling this kind of destruction would have to leave some kind of trail in the course of a month.”

Semeion smiled to Iasho and spoke softly so that he didn’t speak harshly against his elder.  “Besides, if there was a force that came from Quehalost and was capable of destroying the villa, don’t you think that it would want us dead, too?  Why would a force from Quehalost wait to attack the villa when it was as vacant as it ever gets?”

Ischarus spoke next.  The tone in his voice betrayed that he didn’t honestly believe what he was saying but rather that he was simply speaking about a possibility.  “Well, perhaps whatever this force was came from Quehalost and didn’t need to kill us to prove its power?  Perhaps simply destroying our base of operations was enough.”

Brandt frowned.  “I understand what you are suggesting, but I just don’t think that it is probable.  Sure, it is possible that what you are suggesting could have actually happened.  It is even possible that a force could slip from Quehalost into Tongra, although unlikely.  It is possible that such a force could be able to level this kind of destruction.  And if such a force would have merely wanted to destroy the villa, that is also possible.  But the question is really more along the lines of the feasibility of what you propose.”

Brandt paused for a moment to catch his breath.  As he glanced around to the other five members of the group, he noticed that they were all focused on him and awaiting the rest of his explanation.  “You have all been to Quehalost far more often than I, and so I have to ask you to speak from your experience.  How many of the residents of Quehalost are going to be happy with simply destroying your house?”

Semeion smiled smugly, and then his expression broadened into that of enjoyment.  “Well, we did just rescue Charis.  She’s not pure evil, and she’s from Quehalost!”

The group enjoyed a hearty laugh after Charis issued a teasing strike at Semeion’s shoulder.  “Speaking from my own experience, I’d have to say that the average being in Quehalost would not have such murderous intentions.  But those with the power to be able to cross into Tongra unnoticed would likely desire our destruction.”

Brandt smiled at the unexpected answer given by Charis.  “That is a very interesting perspective, Charis.  I guess we so often think about those with the power to control that we forget that there are innocents in the land.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “That’s why we go out there.  We go because we remember the innocents.”

Iasho again agreed with his daughter.  “And what better reason to act aggressively against us?  We represent a danger to their control over the innocents of Quehalost.  If they strike out against us, perhaps they believe they can scare us into staying in Tongra.  Each time we come, we spread a new story of hope.  If they can stop us from coming, they can exert greater control over their people.”

Charis disagreed with Iasho.  “There is logic in that, Iasho.  But it is the logic of Tongra and the free lands, not the logic of Quehalost.  In Quehalost the law is domination and destruction.  If a significant power came out of Quehalost to deal with us, they would have attempted to destroy us.  The villa would have been the least of their concerns.”

Brandt agreed.  “Of course there is always the possibility that something escaped Quehalost.  But the reality of the situation is that this is not the work of something from Quehalost.  If anything, Darkbringer should be proof of that.  If we can trust that Darkbringer is indeed a member of the Ephistaemi, then it is unlikely that this is the work of someone in Quehalost.  We are left with only more questions.”

Semeion returned the conversation back to Brandt’s original questioning before Rhema and Iasho sidetracked them along the lines of thinking that the threat came from Quehalost.  “So if the threat is not other worldly and it is not likely to be from Quehalost, what does that leave?”

Brandt nodded slowly in thought.  “That is precisely my question as well.  If the Phoenix command is truly as you say, then what is the danger of speaking the name before it’s time on the third noon?”

Ischarus was not keeping up with the conversation.  “Wait a minute.  What are you saying about the Phoenix command?”

Brandt allowed a look of sympathy to rise to the surface of his face.  “That’s just it, really.  I don’t understand it at all.  The only reason that speaking the name Whetting One before the appointed time is detrimental to your cause is if the command word was one of summoning.  Then, it is possible that speaking the command word before the conditions are met could countermand the spell.  But you all are not performing a summoning spell.  You are merely sending out a magic or even telepathic message.  Speaking the name should have no effect in the future.”

Charis stood and began to pace.  “So, you are saying that it is almost as though someone wants us to believe that we are summoning the Whetting One, when really something else is happening?”

Brandt nodded.  “Exactly.  There is no foreseeable reason to not speak the name.  Yet, until we understand what the unforeseen reason is we should respect the command anyway.  I believe that is how we should proceed.”

Iasho smiled at the conclusion.  “So, even knowing what you know now you would begin the Phoenix command tomorrow at noon?”

Brandt nodded.  “I see no reason to not continue.  The Phoenix command appears to be nothing particularly special.  By the rules of the Phoenix command we’ll have three days to research and prepare.”

The party sat in silence for several moments, everyone nodding at the truth that was before them.  Assuming that Brandt didn’t find anything out before noon, they would be walking into the unknown.  Since the day of the double weddings, they had grown accustomed to no longer being able to understand their future.  It was a position they were not particularly happy about, either.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus turned to Brandt at the sudden change in tone. “What bothers you about the fact that we cannot speak the name ‘Whetting One’ once we visit the square at noon?”

Brandt slowly shook his head. “In truth, it is nothing in particular. It is more that it just doesn’t make sense. There is nothing that you are asked to do that raises any significant flag in my understanding of how magic is supposed to work. You aren’t going to be reaching across any boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. You are going to be sending out a simple message that will only be perceivable by someone here in this world.”

Rhema nodded in agreement and asked a question before Brandt could finish his thought. “So, are you fearing that there is some dark disturbance already existing here in Tongra? Perhaps we attracted attention our last time in Quehalost through the defeat of Charis’ father dragon?”

Iasho seemed to make the mental leap to finish out Rhema’s thought before the others could draw the same conclusions. “Are you suggesting that a force might have followed you all out of Quehalsost? A force that was capable of destroying the villa?”

Brandt shook his head. “I doubt that such a force is present in Fingerdale. It is remotely possible, I suppose. However, it has been a month since the accident at the villa. It’s actually been a year since you all returned from Quehalost with the dragons and Charis’ clan. If a presence followed you back from Quehalost, surely we would have found out about it by now. Even if that presence would have only come to Tongra when the villa was destroyed, we would have undoubtedly found out about it by now. A presence capable of leveling this kind of destruction would have to leave some kind of trail in the course of a month.”

Semeion smiled to Iasho and spoke softly so that he didn’t speak harshly against his elder. “Besides, if there was a force that came from Quehalost and was capable of destroying the villa, don’t you think that it would want us dead, too? Why would a force from Quehalost wait to attack the villa when it was as vacant as it ever gets?”

Ischarus spoke next. The tone in his voice betrayed that he didn’t honestly believe what he was saying but rather that he was simply speaking about a possibility. “Well, perhaps whatever this force was came from Quehalost and didn’t need to kill us to prove its power? Perhaps simply destroying our base of operations was enough.”

Brandt frowned. “I understand what you are suggesting, but I just don’t think that it is probable. Sure, it is possible that what you are suggesting could have actually happened. It is even possible that a force could slip from Quehalost into Tongra, although unlikely. It is possible that such a force could be able to level this kind of destruction. And if such a force would have merely wanted to destroy the villa, that is also possible. But the question is really more along the lines of the feasibility of what you propose.”

Brandt paused for a moment to catch his breath. As he glanced around to the other five members of the group, he noticed that they were all focused on him and awaiting the rest of his explanation. “You have all been to Quehalost far more often than I, and so I have to ask you to speak from your experience. How many of the residents of Quehalost are going to be happy with simply destroying your house?”

Semeion smiled smugly, and then his expression broadened into that of enjoyment. “Well, we did just rescue Charis. She’s not pure evil, and she’s from Quehalost!”

The group enjoyed a hearty laugh after Charis issued a teasing strike at Semeion’s shoulder. “Speaking from my own experience, I’d have to say that the average being in Quehalost would not have such murderous intentions. But those with the power to be able to cross into Tongra unnoticed would likely desire our destruction.”

Brandt smiled at the unexpected answer given by Charis. “That is a very interesting perspective, Charis. I guess we so often think about those with the power to control that we forget that there are innocents in the land.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “That’s why we go out there. We go because we remember the innocents.”

Iasho again agreed with his daughter. “And what better reason to act aggressively against us? We represent a danger to their control over the innocents of Quehalost. If they strike out against us, perhaps they believe they can scare us into staying in Tongra. Each time we come, we spread a new story of hope. If they can stop us from coming, they can exert greater control over their people.”

Charis disagreed with Iasho. “There is logic in that, Iasho. But it is the logic of Tongra and the free lands, not the logic of Quehalost. In Quehalost the law is domination and destruction. If a significant power came out of Quehalost to deal with us, they would have attempted to destroy us. The villa would have been the least of their concerns.”

Brandt agreed. “Of course there is always the possibility that something escaped Quehalost. But the reality of the situation is that this is not the work of something from Quehalost. If anything, Darkbringer should be proof of that. If we can trust that Darkbringer is indeed a member of the Ephistaemi, then it is unlikely that this is the work of someone in Quehalost. We are left with only more questions.”

Semeion returned the conversation back to Brandt’s original questioning before Rhema and Iasho sidetracked them along the lines of thinking that the threat came from Quehalost. “So if the threat is not other worldly and it is not likely to be from Quehalost, what does that leave?”

Brandt nodded slowly in thought. “That is precisely my question as well. If the Phoenix command is truly as you say, then what is the danger of speaking the name before it’s time on the third noon?”

Ischarus was not keeping up with the conversation. “Wait a minute. What are you saying about the Phoenix command?”

Brandt allowed a look of sympathy to rise to the surface of his face. “That’s just it, really. I don’t understand it at all. The only reason that speaking the name Whetting One before the appointed time is detrimental to your cause is if the command word was one of summoning. Then, it is possible that speaking the command word before the conditions are met could countermand the spell. But you all are not performing a summoning spell. You are merely sending out a magic or even telepathic message. Speaking the name should have no effect in the future.”

Charis stood and began to pace. “So, you are saying that it is almost as though someone wants us to believe that we are summoning the Whetting One, when really something else is happening?”

Brandt nodded. “Exactly. There is no foreseeable reason to not speak the name. Yet, until we understand what the unforeseen reason is we should respect the command anyway. I believe that is how we should proceed.”

Iasho smiled at the conclusion. “So, even knowing what you know now you would begin the Phoenix command tomorrow at noon?”

Brandt nodded. “I see no reason to not continue. The Phoenix command appears to be nothing particularly special. By the rules of the Phoenix command we’ll have three days to research and prepare.”

The party sat in silence for several moments, everyone nodding at the truth that was before them. Assuming that Brandt didn’t find anything out before noon, they would be walking into the unknown. Since the day of the double weddings, they had grown accustomed to no longer being able to understand their future. It was a position they were not particularly happy about, either.

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 26, 2007)

*Chapter Seven: THE COMING OF THE WHETTING ONE*

The following day turned out to be an absolutely beautiful day along the northern shores of Tongra.  A light northwesterly breeze had blown in off of the sea and carried the subtle scent of saltwater across the land.  There were several bands of clouds present at daybreak when the adventurers had left for Fingerdale with Iasho, but by the time they arrived at the gates the warmth of the sun had made even the clouds dissipate.  As noon approached and the party took up their positions around the city square the sky was cloudless.

Brandt had been waiting for their arrival at the southern edge of the city square.  He was sitting very nonchalantly on a park bench dropping crumbs of bread from a bag onto the ground.  A small flock of pigeons gathering at his feet were enjoying the free meal.  Charis smiled as she was the first of the five to spot the priest of Reah.  Each of the party dismounted and slowly moved in Brandt’s direction.  They were careful not to disturb the birds looking to Brandt for more bread crumbs.

Rhema addressed Brandt softly from behind.  “Good day, Master Brandt.  Have you any news for us?”

Brandt turned slightly and allowed him arm to stretch along the length of the back of the bench.  A few pigeons pecked at Brandt’s sandals once they realized that his attention was no longer on feeding them.  “Unfortunately, I have to bring both good and bad news.  I spent a fair amount of last evening researching in the library of Reah for any reference to the Whetting One.  I looked specifically in our tomes against Duu Mahr and Yrraxea, and the good news is that the Whetting One is not a mention to any specific follower of those deities.  Just for fun, I checked the greater annals of Walcea and Pohprek, but the Whetting One was given no mention in there, either.”

Semeion nodded appropriately.  “Well, I guess that means that you assumptions were confirmed.  The good news is that we apparently aren’t going to be stumbling into a magical rift or opening a magical doorway for some kind of otherworldly creature.”

Charis added to Semeion’s thought.  “And, of course, that implies that we really don’t know what we are about to do.  We can only eliminate one item from a very long list of possible outcomes.”

Brandt chuckled as he turned to toss some bread at the ever-increasingly demanding pigeons.  “And that is the bad news.  We are going into this rather blind, which is why I showed up.  I figured that I would stay here on the park bench and observe the proceedings from a distance.  Perhaps I’ll blend in with the crowd, yet still be available should something unexpected happen.”

Ischarus looked pleased at Brandt’s precaution.  “I appreciate your giving the time to be here.”

Iasho bowed slightly while still holding onto the reigns of his horse.  “And I, sir, am relieved going into these proceedings knowing that the justice of Reah is looking down upon us and that we have a priest dedicated to watching over my children.”

The foursome smiled as Iasho’s words embraced them all.  Ischarus spoke again in his pragmatic prodding of the group.  “And noon is quickly approaching.  Brandt, if we can I’d like to briefly describe our plan to you.  We figured that Semeion would be the most likely candidate to send the message.  He has the proper spell ready.”

Semeion interrupted Ischarus to give an account of greater detail to Brandt.  “The spell that I memorized is the most basic message spell that I know.  It is not capable of reaching far from my position.  I figured that it would be safest to use weak magic in this scenario.”

Brandt smiled and nodded in approval as Ischarus continued to speak.  “The rest of us would stand along the square much like you propose for yourself.  We will watch the proceedings in case something should happen.  Since Charis has the ability to heal as well as having a decent ability to protect through the use of her pick, she will be the closest to Semeion as he sends out the message.”

Brandt continued to nod with every detail.  “The plan seems sound enough, knowing that we have no clue as to what we are really doing.  I’d like to plan a little bit of a preparation spell as well, if I may?”

Semeion nodded eagerly.  “By all means!  What kind of protective spell are you planning on unleashing?”

Brandt grinned at Semeion’s assumption.  “Not a protective spell, Semeion.  I plan on performing a preparation spell.  I’ll not be warding you, I’ll be watching for magic in your vicinity.  Here, I’ll show you.”

Brandt raised his hand and pointed to the statue of the original Lord Ironblood.  After making a quick gesture with his fingers he spoke the magical words.  “Thizzle Sooth Fundar”  The party didn’t see any visible effect, but from Brandt’s perspective the area around the city square now had an orange tint.

Semeion turned the magical words over in his mind.  “From what you’ve taught me and I learned from my former master, you’ve cast a spell designed to detect some kind of magical form?”

Brandt looked pleased at Semeion’s deduction.  “Indeed.  I’m hunting a very specific kind of magic.  I’ll let you know if I should happen to find it.  Until then, I suggest you all get ready.  The noontime approaches quickly.  Oh, and feel free to tie your horses off with me, if you’d like.”

Iasho sat down beside Brandt.  “Perhaps I’ll share your bench?  They brought me along to watch the horses, but I wouldn’t mind sitting beside you while you also care for the pigeons at your feet.”

Brandt scooted to the left to make room for Iasho.  Semeion moved toward the statue and took up a position of admiration.  Charis, Rhema, and Ischarus parted and moved about the square, occasionally stopping at merchant booths which allowed them to have a good line of sight to observe Semeion and the statue.

At the appropriate time, Semeion moved into position and very quietly spoke the simple command.  “Allay.”  In his mind, Semeion formed the magical words for the Whetting One and felt the message leave his mind.

Suddenly Brandt leapt off of the bench, startling Iasho.  Pigeons took flight as Brandt ran through them, giving the entire square the appearance of Brandt emerging through a screen of feathers.  He charged toward the statue and stopped about ten feet from its position.  He was speaking in a loud voice into what seemed to be thin air.

Semeion backed away from the statue and instinctively took cover at Brandt’s sudden motion.  Charis was standing near him with her weapon drawn in a matter of seconds.  Rhema had moved to protect her father while her husband had his sword drawn and was standing beside Brandt in a heartbeat.

Brandt continued to mutter at something which only he could apparently see.  “Don’t you run and hide from me until I am done with you!”

Ischarus gave a confused glance to Brandt before offering up an invitation to explain his actions.  “Brandt, what do you see?  I can’t see a thing in the direction that you are staring!”

When it was apparent that the threat was not imminent, Semeion and the rest of the party moved in to surround Brandt.  They all noticed that Brandt was drawing the attention of those standing in the city square.  They also had to agree with Ischarus.  Brandt was talking to something which only he could see.

Brandt ignored Ischarus’ inquiry temporarily.  “Oh no you don’t!  I saw you spying on us and I’m not letting you go until you show me who sent you.”  Brandt reached up and seemed to pull on an imaginary line.  His muscles tensed as he struggled against the invisible object.

Suddenly, Brandt relaxed and a look of dejection came over his face.  Charis was the first to see it and she spoke to the priest of Reah now that his attention wasn’t diverted.  “Whatever it was got away?”

Brandt sighed.  “Unfortunately, yes it did.  I had suspected that the message was merely a command to trigger some kind of magical alarm.  I was right.  As soon as Semeion spoke his magical command I saw an eye appear above him.  The eye began to move around Semeion at a distance of ten feet.  The eye was circling him as if to examine him from every side.  I’ve no doubt that the eye was under the control of the one we seek.”  He was careful not to mention the name specifically.

Ischarus began to put the scenario together.  “So you wanted to catch the eye in hopes of identifying the sender?”

Brandt smiled broadly.  “You’ve heard that the eye is the window to the soul?  So it is with magical eyes, too.  If I could have controlled the eye, I could have looked into it and seen the eye’s maker.  I could have identified the person as well as the location of the eye’s maker.  And I almost did.”

Semeion looked amazed towards Brandt and his lost magical battle.  “You were unable to master it?”

Brandt placed a hand on Semeion’s shoulder.  “Alas, young Semeion.  Although I am powerful, I am not all powerful.  I have spent much time studying matters religious as well as arcane.  My split time means that while I have great versatility, I also have less specialization.  There are both priests and magicians who are more powerful than I in their own field.  Whoever sent this eye is one of them.”

Rhema looked pleased with Brandt’s conclusion.  “Well, that should narrow it down some, then.  We know that the one we seek is a powerful user of magic – more powerful than Brandt in his own discipline.  I say that we leave here and return to the villa.  We’ve set the call into motion and we’ve now got a few days. I’ll buy some more meat and we’ll have another feast tonight.  The spirits of those at the villa will be soaring after two good meals.  And we can talk more once we are somewhere that we haven’t drawn such a crowd.”

As Rhema nodded in the direction of the crowd, the rest of the party realized just how odd the proceedings must have seemed.  It was appropriate to return home to the villa now.  And Rhema was right.  They had a few days to figure this out.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Seven: THE COMING OF THE WHETTING ONE

The following day turned out to be an absolutely beautiful day along the northern shores of Tongra. A light northwesterly breeze had blown in off of the sea and carried the subtle scent of saltwater across the land. There were several bands of clouds present at daybreak when the adventurers had left for Fingerdale with Iasho, but by the time they arrived at the gates the warmth of the sun had made even the clouds dissipate. As noon approached and the party took up their positions around the city square the sky was cloudless.

Brandt had been waiting for their arrival at the southern edge of the city square. He was sitting very nonchalantly on a park bench dropping crumbs of bread from a bag onto the ground. A small flock of pigeons gathering at his feet were enjoying the free meal. Charis smiled as she was the first of the five to spot the priest of Reah. Each of the party dismounted and slowly moved in Brandt’s direction. They were careful not to disturb the birds looking to Brandt for more bread crumbs.

Rhema addressed Brandt softly from behind. “Good day, Master Brandt. Have you any news for us?”

Brandt turned slightly and allowed him arm to stretch along the length of the back of the bench. A few pigeons pecked at Brandt’s sandals once they realized that his attention was no longer on feeding them. “Unfortunately, I have to bring both good and bad news. I spent a fair amount of last evening researching in the library of Reah for any reference to the Whetting One. I looked specifically in our tomes against Duu Mahr and Yrraxea, and the good news is that the Whetting One is not a mention to any specific follower of those deities. Just for fun, I checked the greater annals of Walcea and Pohprek, but the Whetting One was given no mention in there, either.”

Semeion nodded appropriately. “Well, I guess that means that you assumptions were confirmed. The good news is that we apparently aren’t going to be stumbling into a magical rift or opening a magical doorway for some kind of otherworldly creature.”

Charis added to Semeion’s thought. “And, of course, that implies that we really don’t know what we are about to do. We can only eliminate one item from a very long list of possible outcomes.”

Brandt chuckled as he turned to toss some bread at the ever-increasingly demanding pigeons. “And that is the bad news. We are going into this rather blind, which is why I showed up. I figured that I would stay here on the park bench and observe the proceedings from a distance. Perhaps I’ll blend in with the crowd, yet still be available should something unexpected happen.”

Ischarus looked pleased at Brandt’s precaution. “I appreciate your giving the time to be here.”

Iasho bowed slightly while still holding onto the reigns of his horse. “And I, sir, am relieved going into these proceedings knowing that the justice of Reah is looking down upon us and that we have a priest dedicated to watching over my children.”

The foursome smiled as Iasho’s words embraced them all. Ischarus spoke again in his pragmatic prodding of the group. “And noon is quickly approaching. Brandt, if we can I’d like to briefly describe our plan to you. We figured that Semeion would be the most likely candidate to send the message. He has the proper spell ready.”

Semeion interrupted Ischarus to give an account of greater detail to Brandt. “The spell that I memorized is the most basic message spell that I know. It is not capable of reaching far from my position. I figured that it would be safest to use weak magic in this scenario.”

Brandt smiled and nodded in approval as Ischarus continued to speak. “The rest of us would stand along the square much like you propose for yourself. We will watch the proceedings in case something should happen. Since Charis has the ability to heal as well as having a decent ability to protect through the use of her pick, she will be the closest to Semeion as he sends out the message.”

Brandt continued to nod with every detail. “The plan seems sound enough, knowing that we have no clue as to what we are really doing. I’d like to plan a little bit of a preparation spell as well, if I may?”

Semeion nodded eagerly. “By all means! What kind of protective spell are you planning on unleashing?”

Brandt grinned at Semeion’s assumption. “Not a protective spell, Semeion. I plan on performing a preparation spell. I’ll not be warding you, I’ll be watching for magic in your vicinity. Here, I’ll show you.”

Brandt raised his hand and pointed to the statue of the original Lord Ironblood. After making a quick gesture with his fingers he spoke the magical words. “Thizzle Sooth Fundar” The party didn’t see any visible effect, but from Brandt’s perspective the area around the city square now had an orange tint.

Semeion turned the magical words over in his mind. “From what you’ve taught me and I learned from my former master, you’ve cast a spell designed to detect some kind of magical form?”

Brandt looked pleased at Semeion’s deduction. “Indeed. I’m hunting a very specific kind of magic. I’ll let you know if I should happen to find it. Until then, I suggest you all get ready. The noontime approaches quickly. Oh, and feel free to tie your horses off with me, if you’d like.”

Iasho sat down beside Brandt. “Perhaps I’ll share your bench? They brought me along to watch the horses, but I wouldn’t mind sitting beside you while you also care for the pigeons at your feet.”

Brandt scooted to the left to make room for Iasho. Semeion moved toward the statue and took up a position of admiration. Charis, Rhema, and Ischarus parted and moved about the square, occasionally stopping at merchant booths which allowed them to have a good line of sight to observe Semeion and the statue.

At the appropriate time, Semeion moved into position and very quietly spoke the simple command. “Allay.” In his mind, Semeion formed the magical words for the Whetting One and felt the message leave his mind.

Suddenly Brandt leapt off of the bench, startling Iasho. Pigeons took flight as Brandt ran through them, giving the entire square the appearance of Brandt emerging through a screen of feathers. He charged toward the statue and stopped about ten feet from its position. He was speaking in a loud voice into what seemed to be thin air.

Semeion backed away from the statue and instinctively took cover at Brandt’s sudden motion. Charis was standing near him with her weapon drawn in a matter of seconds. Rhema had moved to protect her father while her husband had his sword drawn and was standing beside Brandt in a heartbeat.

Brandt continued to mutter at something which only he could apparently see. “Don’t you run and hide from me until I am done with you!”

Ischarus gave a confused glance to Brandt before offering up an invitation to explain his actions. “Brandt, what do you see? I can’t see a thing in the direction that you are staring!”

When it was apparent that the threat was not imminent, Semeion and the rest of the party moved in to surround Brandt. They all noticed that Brandt was drawing the attention of those standing in the city square. They also had to agree with Ischarus. Brandt was talking to something which only he could see.

Brandt ignored Ischarus’ inquiry temporarily. “Oh no you don’t! I saw you spying on us and I’m not letting you go until you show me who sent you.” Brandt reached up and seemed to pull on an imaginary line. His muscles tensed as he struggled against the invisible object.

Suddenly, Brandt relaxed and a look of dejection came over his face. Charis was the first to see it and she spoke to the priest of Reah now that his attention wasn’t diverted. “Whatever it was got away?”

Brandt sighed. “Unfortunately, yes it did. I had suspected that the message was merely a command to trigger some kind of magical alarm. I was right. As soon as Semeion spoke his magical command I saw an eye appear above him. The eye began to move around Semeion at a distance of ten feet. The eye was circling him as if to examine him from every side. I’ve no doubt that the eye was under the control of the one we seek.” He was careful not to mention the name specifically.

Ischarus began to put the scenario together. “So you wanted to catch the eye in hopes of identifying the sender?”

Brandt smiled broadly. “You’ve heard that the eye is the window to the soul? So it is with magical eyes, too. If I could have controlled the eye, I could have looked into it and seen the eye’s maker. I could have identified the person as well as the location of the eye’s maker. And I almost did.”

Semeion looked amazed towards Brandt and his lost magical battle. “You were unable to master it?”

Brandt placed a hand on Semeion’s shoulder. “Alas, young Semeion. Although I am powerful, I am not all powerful. I have spent much time studying matters religious as well as arcane. My split time means that while I have great versatility, I also have less specialization. There are both priests and magicians who are more powerful than I in their own field. Whoever sent this eye is one of them.”

Rhema looked pleased with Brandt’s conclusion. “Well, that should narrow it down some, then. We know that the one we seek is a powerful user of magic – more powerful than Brandt in his own discipline. I say that we leave here and return to the villa. We’ve set the call into motion and we’ve now got a few days. I’ll buy some more meat and we’ll have another feast tonight. The spirits of those at the villa will be soaring after two good meals. And we can talk more once we are somewhere that we haven’t drawn such a crowd.”

As Rhema nodded in the direction of the crowd, the rest of the party realized just how odd the proceedings must have seemed. It was appropriate to return home to the villa now. And Rhema was right. They had a few days to figure this out.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Apr 29, 2007)

It was near dark once more when the underground oven was ready to produce another bounty back at the villa.  For the dinner, Rhema and Iasho had purchased several turkeys.  The birds had already had their feathers and internal organs removed.  When the party returned to the villa, it was merely a matter of cutting the birds in half so that they could be arranged in the smoking oven properly.

When the sun descended low enough to have its light dampened by the surrounding trees, Iasho called a halt to the work and brought the workers in from the fields in order to eat.  The bird and the stuffing placed inside the underground oven had taken hours to cook, but only minutes to consume.  By the time that the sun had fully descended and the stars were shinning brightly above, the oven contained only the steaming remains of turkey carcasses.

Rhema gazed towards the well fed workers and a look of satisfaction appeared.  “You know, they’re likely to get spoiled if we keep feeding them feasts.”

Iasho laughed.  “They deserve it lately.  Between the lumbering, the replanting, and the stone polishing I would say they’ve worked quite hard.  It won’t be too long before things are back to normal around here.”

Rhema smiled as she realized her father was seeing the end of the rebuilding process for the first time.  However, it was Ischarus who added to his father-in-law’s sentence.  “Including the meals, no doubt.  It won’t be long until breakfast is back to oatmeal and dinner has more vegetables than meat.”  His teasing smile informed those gathered around the oven that while his predictions were no doubt accurate, he wasn’t dreading the food as much as his voice indicated.

Semeion sipped a bit of water out of a glass that had been sitting at his feet.  “So, another feast behind us, and another free meal for Brandt, too.  Tell us, what advice can you give us to earn your keep?”  Like Ischarus before, his own expression told Brandt that he was only joking.

Brandt leaned back and stretched his hands out behind him.  “Well, I don’t know.  I’ve noticed that it gets harder and harder to think in this place once the sun goes down.  It must have something to do with a full belly and the dropping nighttime temperatures.”

Charis laughed at Brandt’s comments.  “And you, sir, are stalling.”

Brandt returned Charis’ comment with a chuckle of his own.  “Perhaps.  But I’ve been doing some kind of thinking about that magical spy I almost caught today.  We know that it must have been a powerful wizard who was looking in on your actions.”

Semeion grinned with a knowing smile.  “Yes, and I think I know where you are going with this one.  If I am correct, I’ve been thinking about the same thing.”

Brandt nodded to Semeion and continued after sipping a bit of his own water.  “While I don’t know for certain who this mage is, I did find something interesting out from the warden earlier today.”

Ischarus’ eyes jerked up to lock in a stare with Brandt’s eyes.  “Warden Farette?  Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?”

Brandt grimaced at Ischarus’ implication, but he continued to speak in a calm tone.  “I didn’t think it was particularly important to mention it before you performed the ritual today at noon.  Once I saw the magical sensor, I needed time to analyze each piece of the puzzle.”

Rhema looked on impatiently.  “And?  Have you been able to make any conclusions?  Or are you in need of a bigger basis for opinion?”

Brandt smiled and pointed to Rhema as she added the second option.  “The latter.  I don’t know if the warden’s information is relevant or not.  In fact, neither did the warden.  You see, Warden Farette contacted me at the temple as I was researching this morning and added an unusual piece of information.  He didn’t remember it until this morning, and he apologizes for not remembering it when you all were present for the interrogation of Darkbringer.  But the Warden told me that about eight months ago a prisoner known as Grick was taken from the prison.”

Charis’ eyes widened at the mention of Grick’s name.  Her voice confirmed the alarm that was present on her face.  “Grick is free?  And we are just finding out about this now?  Grick had been following us long enough to know where to find us.  I could see him taking revenge upon us and especially the villa for the sake of the father dragon that was destroyed over the mountains by Ausaphaborishan, Llywessair, and Sappurapolician.”

Brandt shook his head side to side in disagreement in response to the conclusion to which Charis leapt.  “No.  You see, that is the particularly odd thing about it.  The reason that you were never notified is because Grick was found back in his cell less than an hour after he was discovered missing.  Grick was found, and he was unconscious.  He clearly couldn’t have escaped and returned in the state he was found.  In fact, Warden Farette told me that Grick didn’t regain consciousness for almost two days.”

Ischarus thumped the table before him solidly with the bottom of his fist.  “We should have been told, all the same.”

Brandt nodded.  “Agreed, and you are being told now.  Warden Farette didn’t seem to see the importance once Grick’s return was confirmed and it was proven that it was actually Grick who was returned.  It was no magical doppelganger, just so you know.  They tested him very thoroughly.  Once it was confirmed that Grick was back, the warden didn’t think anything else of it.  He wouldn’t have ever thought anything else of it had you all not showed up in his prison once more.”

Ischarus nearly spoke out again in disapproval of the warden, but Rhema softly placed a hand on her husband’s knee.  “Let it go, Ischarus.  It’s been eight months since the incident and I doubt it is related.  I am assuming, Master Brandt, that Grick is currently residing in the prison still?”

Brandt smiled.  “Quite securely, actually.  And he has not disappeared again.”

Semeion interjected his own logical process into the conversation as a dark figure emerged out of the forest at the other end of the villa’s main planting field.  “Either way, Grick was placed in a cell preventing the use of his powers of destruction.  What happened must have been done to him, not by him.  That makes him much less likely involved in this destruction.”

The figure walked confidently across the field and did not attempt to hide herself.  Charis was the first to notice her, and as Semeion finished with his thought Charis stood up and pointed towards the woman.  Ischarus and Iasho stood to investigate while the rest of the party persisted with the current conversation.

Semeion continued his thought.  “But, I am equally surprised at the realization that it would take a powerful mage to defeat the prison’s magical warding.  This is especially true given the coincidence of the realization that a powerful mage was spying on us in the square today.”

Brandt breathed in deeply at Semeion’s assertion as Ischarus, Charis, and Iasho moved out of earshot.  “That has me surprised just as much.  Hence the reason that I have been contemplating this all day.  Why would a mage who was powerful enough to defeat the magical warding of the prison want to spy on you all?  And if those two events can be connected to the destruction of the villa, why would a mage powerful enough to do all of those things want the villa destroyed and the occupants left unscathed?”

Semeion snarled as he felt Brandt’s thoughts merging with his own conclusion.  “I don’t know, but I do know about a certain wizard who deals in information and who seemed reasonably powerful.  I know that most wizards hide their true power as best as they can, but this mage in particular fits the bill.”

Rhema nodded as Brandt suggested the wizard to whom Semeion was alluding.  “The wizard in Eberdeen?”

Semeion also nodded, but didn’t get a chance to speak.  From a short distance away, Ischarus called back to the party.  “Guess who finally showed up to join the party?”  His voice was filled with encouragement.

Semeion, Rhema, and Brandt each turned to see Ischarus, Charis, and Iasho escorting Ophee towards them.  Although the foursome was smiling, Semeion frowned upon seeing her.  She was the last person that he expected to see in his current antagonistic frame of mind against the wizard of Eberdeen.

Ophee greeted the trio who hadn’t come out to investigate her appearance.  “I’ve just arrived in Fingerdale, and I wanted to look you all up.  My master finished his training for me earlier in the week, and as it turns out he’s especially grateful for the service that you all provided for him.  He’s granted me a week of freedom from my next assignment specifically so that I can lend you all a hand in catching the ones who are responsible.  I’m not too late, am I?”

Semeion shook his head in disbelief.  He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for only Rhema and Brandt to hear.  “Well, so much for my theory.”

Brandt smiled.  “Never fear, Semeion.  There are plenty of other strong mages in the world.  Immediately finding the right one on the first guess would have been impossible odds anyway.  Perhaps the one we seek isn’t even known outside of Quehalost?”

Rhema and Semeion both laughed at Brandt’s disturbing thought.  That conversation would wait for another day.  For the time being, they decided to get up from the table and greet Ophee with a hug.  

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It was near dark once more when the underground oven was ready to produce another bounty back at the villa. For the dinner, Rhema and Iasho had purchased several turkeys. The birds had already had their feathers and internal organs removed. When the party returned to the villa, it was merely a matter of cutting the birds in half so that they could be arranged in the smoking oven properly.

When the sun descended low enough to have its light dampened by the surrounding trees, Iasho called a halt to the work and brought the workers in from the fields in order to eat. The bird and the stuffing placed inside the underground oven had taken hours to cook, but only minutes to consume. By the time that the sun had fully descended and the stars were shinning brightly above, the oven contained only the steaming remains of turkey carcasses.

Rhema gazed towards the well fed workers and a look of satisfaction appeared. “You know, they’re likely to get spoiled if we keep feeding them feasts.”

Iasho laughed. “They deserve it lately. Between the lumbering, the replanting, and the stone polishing I would say they’ve worked quite hard. It won’t be too long before things are back to normal around here.”

Rhema smiled as she realized her father was seeing the end of the rebuilding process for the first time. However, it was Ischarus who added to his father-in-law’s sentence. “Including the meals, no doubt. It won’t be long until breakfast is back to oatmeal and dinner has more vegetables than meat.” His teasing smile informed those gathered around the oven that while his predictions were no doubt accurate, he wasn’t dreading the food as much as his voice indicated.

Semeion sipped a bit of water out of a glass that had been sitting at his feet. “So, another feast behind us, and another free meal for Brandt, too. Tell us, what advice can you give us to earn your keep?” Like Ischarus before, his own expression told Brandt that he was only joking.

Brandt leaned back and stretched his hands out behind him. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve noticed that it gets harder and harder to think in this place once the sun goes down. It must have something to do with a full belly and the dropping nighttime temperatures.”

Charis laughed at Brandt’s comments. “And you, sir, are stalling.”

Brandt returned Charis’ comment with a chuckle of his own. “Perhaps. But I’ve been doing some kind of thinking about that magical spy I almost caught today. We know that it must have been a powerful wizard who was looking in on your actions.”

Semeion grinned with a knowing smile. “Yes, and I think I know where you are going with this one. If I am correct, I’ve been thinking about the same thing.”

Brandt nodded to Semeion and continued after sipping a bit of his own water. “While I don’t know for certain who this mage is, I did find something interesting out from the warden earlier today.”

Ischarus’ eyes jerked up to lock in a stare with Brandt’s eyes. “Warden Farette? Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?”

Brandt grimaced at Ischarus’ implication, but he continued to speak in a calm tone. “I didn’t think it was particularly important to mention it before you performed the ritual today at noon. Once I saw the magical sensor, I needed time to analyze each piece of the puzzle.”

Rhema looked on impatiently. “And? Have you been able to make any conclusions? Or are you in need of a bigger basis for opinion?”

Brandt smiled and pointed to Rhema as she added the second option. “The latter. I don’t know if the warden’s information is relevant or not. In fact, neither did the warden. You see, Warden Farette contacted me at the temple as I was researching this morning and added an unusual piece of information. He didn’t remember it until this morning, and he apologizes for not remembering it when you all were present for the interrogation of Darkbringer. But the Warden told me that about eight months ago a prisoner known as Grick was taken from the prison.”

Charis’ eyes widened at the mention of Grick’s name. Her voice confirmed the alarm that was present on her face. “Grick is free? And we are just finding out about this now? Grick had been following us long enough to know where to find us. I could see him taking revenge upon us and especially the villa for the sake of the father dragon that was destroyed over the mountains by Ausaphaborishan, Llywessair, and Sappurapolician.”

Brandt shook his head side to side in disagreement in response to the conclusion to which Charis leapt. “No. You see, that is the particularly odd thing about it. The reason that you were never notified is because Grick was found back in his cell less than an hour after he was discovered missing. Grick was found, and he was unconscious. He clearly couldn’t have escaped and returned in the state he was found. In fact, Warden Farette told me that Grick didn’t regain consciousness for almost two days.”

Ischarus thumped the table before him solidly with the bottom of his fist. “We should have been told, all the same.”

Brandt nodded. “Agreed, and you are being told now. Warden Farette didn’t seem to see the importance once Grick’s return was confirmed and it was proven that it was actually Grick who was returned. It was no magical doppelganger, just so you know. They tested him very thoroughly. Once it was confirmed that Grick was back, the warden didn’t think anything else of it. He wouldn’t have ever thought anything else of it had you all not showed up in his prison once more.”

Ischarus nearly spoke out again in disapproval of the warden, but Rhema softly placed a hand on her husband’s knee. “Let it go, Ischarus. It’s been eight months since the incident and I doubt it is related. I am assuming, Master Brandt, that Grick is currently residing in the prison still?”

Brandt smiled. “Quite securely, actually. And he has not disappeared again.”

Semeion interjected his own logical process into the conversation as a dark figure emerged out of the forest at the other end of the villa’s main planting field. “Either way, Grick was placed in a cell preventing the use of his powers of destruction. What happened must have been done to him, not by him. That makes him much less likely involved in this destruction.”

The figure walked confidently across the field and did not attempt to hide herself. Charis was the first to notice her, and as Semeion finished with his thought Charis stood up and pointed towards the woman. Ischarus and Iasho stood to investigate while the rest of the party persisted with the current conversation.

Semeion continued his thought. “But, I am equally surprised at the realization that it would take a powerful mage to defeat the prison’s magical warding. This is especially true given the coincidence of the realization that a powerful mage was spying on us in the square today.”

Brandt breathed in deeply at Semeion’s assertion as Ischarus, Charis, and Iasho moved out of earshot. “That has me surprised just as much. Hence the reason that I have been contemplating this all day. Why would a mage who was powerful enough to defeat the magical warding of the prison want to spy on you all? And if those two events can be connected to the destruction of the villa, why would a mage powerful enough to do all of those things want the villa destroyed and the occupants left unscathed?”

Semeion snarled as he felt Brandt’s thoughts merging with his own conclusion. “I don’t know, but I do know about a certain wizard who deals in information and who seemed reasonably powerful. I know that most wizards hide their true power as best as they can, but this mage in particular fits the bill.”

Rhema nodded as Brandt suggested the wizard to whom Semeion was alluding. “The wizard in Eberdeen?”

Semeion also nodded, but didn’t get a chance to speak. From a short distance away, Ischarus called back to the party. “Guess who finally showed up to join the party?” His voice was filled with encouragement.

Semeion, Rhema, and Brandt each turned to see Ischarus, Charis, and Iasho escorting Ophee towards them. Although the foursome was smiling, Semeion frowned upon seeing her. She was the last person that he expected to see in his current antagonistic frame of mind against the wizard of Eberdeen.

Ophee greeted the trio who hadn’t come out to investigate her appearance. “I’ve just arrived in Fingerdale, and I wanted to look you all up. My master finished his training for me earlier in the week, and as it turns out he’s especially grateful for the service that you all provided for him. He’s granted me a week of freedom from my next assignment specifically so that I can lend you all a hand in catching the ones who are responsible. I’m not too late, am I?”

Semeion shook his head in disbelief. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for only Rhema and Brandt to hear. “Well, so much for my theory.”

Brandt smiled. “Never fear, Semeion. There are plenty of other strong mages in the world. Immediately finding the right one on the first guess would have been impossible odds anyway. Perhaps the one we seek isn’t even known outside of Quehalost?”

Rhema and Semeion both laughed at Brandt’s disturbing thought. That conversation would wait for another day. For the time being, they decided to get up from the table and greet Ophee with a hug. 
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 1, 2007)

Once the hugs were given out and the group was gathered once more around the table – this time with Ophee – Rhema turned to their newest arrival and altered the conversation.  “So, is your master’s business private or is it a matter of public knowledge?  I am curious about what kind of work you do for the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Ophee smiled at Rhema’s inquisitiveness.  “Oh, I can certainly speak about my mission, although I doubt that you all will be able to help me.  You see, my master has instructed me to find a certain woman of duplicity.”

Charis snickered at Ophee’s description.  “You make it sound so mysterious!  She’s a ‘woman of duplicity.’  What’s that supposed to mean?  Does she lead a double life?”

Ophee and the rest of the gathered people laughed at Charis’ suggestion.  “No, not exactly.  Although in truth you aren’t very far off.  Apparently there is an anchor to a slave trade organization residing somewhere here in the region that I oversee for my master.  My master doesn’t know exactly how the slaves arrive here in Fingerdale, but the person that my master’s services are being contracted for does know that this area is a major hub of activity.”

Brandt frowned.  “Slaves passing through this area?  That is a bit disturbing to me to be honest.  We haven’t had a substantial problem with slavery since the lords of Tongra were united in the Confederacy of Tongra hundreds of years ago.  Before then the lords would raid each other’s lands in an attempt to undermine their economy and morale.  If people were taken during the raid, they often became slaves to the households that were responsible for organizing the incursion.  But that regime hasn’t been around for centuries.  Certainly there isn’t any current market for slaves in Tongra.”

Ophee shook her head in disagreement.  “Well, my master did tell me that the slavers are not exactly well known.  That is why my master talents and my services were needed to find them.  The slaves are kept here long enough for them to trade hands, and then they are sent abroad.”

Ischarus looked as though he were in deep thought.  “It actually sounds as the type of fight that we try to disrupt ourselves.  We are completely opposed to slavery and tyranny of any kind, and would gladly fight against it.  If you are successful in your search, let me know.  I’d gladly have a hand in the disruption of any slave trade.”

Ophee smiled and nodded at Ischarus’ support.  “I will be sure to tell my master.  He can pass along the information to the person that has contracted out my master’s services.”

Semeion wasn’t satisfied with the way the discussion of Ophee’s newest job was wrapping up.  “Does your master know how these slaves are leaving Fingerdale?  I’d be absolutely surprised if they were leaving by land.  Driving slaves through a land where slavery isn’t acceptable tends to be rather obvious.  I’d bet the slaves were being moved by sea, to be honest.”

Brandt chuckled as his mind registered Semeion’s oversight.  “Or by magic, Semeion.  Don’t forget your first love, after all.”

A look of obvious disappointment passed over Semeion’s face as everyone else enjoyed another good laugh.  Semeion smiled back to Brandt and corrected his earlier conclusion.  “I suppose that teleportation magic may well be the method of travel.  It would certainly be safe and unrecognizable, that’s for sure.”

Brandt nodded and continued with Semeion’s conclusion.  “But, that still leaves out the question of where.  If they are going by the sea, then they could be headed anywhere.  But if they were leaving by teleportation magic, well that would narrow the span of movement.  Teleportation magic has its range limitations.  I doubt that the slaves could be leaving the land of Enigmatica by the means of teleportation magic.”

Iasho nodded in agreement as Brandt spoke.  “I agree, although I’ve lived near enough to the port to know that it could be possible at the very least.  With the right map and the right services of a disreputable captain, it would be possible to ship slaves out of the port to an uncharted island.  Teleportation magic might get them the rest of the way.”

Semeion also nodded as Iasho spoke.  “Or, perhaps they have multiple places from which they teleport.  If a wizard of high enough power visits any of the uncharted islands in the sea and becomes familiar enough with its location, they could teleport unerringly from the mainland to the island.  Another wizard could be waiting for them to complete the trip and complete the deal.  For the system to work well and be profitable, that would require a few wizards of high power working together.  They would burn through their magical aptitude pretty quickly teleporting people across the seas like that.”

Brandt agreed, but spoke to the logistics of what Semeion proposed.  “That many higher level wizards working in conjunction with one another would be hard to keep quiet.  I’m sure we’d have heard rumors, at least.”

Ophee shook her head from side to side slowly.  “Unfortunately, while you all are coming to reasonable conclusions I think you are looking too far.  My master has reason to believe that the slaves are going no further than Fenneress and even Barghost.”

Brandt nearly choked on the water that he was sipping as Ophee suggested that the land of Barghost involved slave trade.  “What?  Your master cannot be serious!  As evil as the land of Quehalost is, the land of Barghost is just and righteous!  While demons and dark lords rule Quehalost in an eternal struggle for power, the land of Barghost is led by divine agents who seek righteousness and justice above all else.  Slavery would be crushed as soon as it was discovered.”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders.  “That is what I told my master when he suggested that citizens of Barghost might be involved.  But he was adamant that his contact had told him quite definitely that the slaves are occasionally shipped into Barghost.  He suggested that it may be possible that the slaves are being used underground or in other areas where visibility is not quite so prevalent.”

Charis shook her head in disagreement.  “I remember Ausaphaborishan’s valley.  I find it nearly impossible that such a land could hold such an evil.”

Rhema looked at the problem through a more pragmatic lens.  “Unfortunately, through the means of things like the magic of Semeion and Brandt or even the intimate powers that I wield this is possible.  I find it difficult to believe, but not impossible.”

Ischarus returned the conversation back to the original roots.  “And we cannot rule out the possibility, however so small.  But, Ophee, you say that you will find this slave trade by looking for a duplicitous woman?  Do you know more than that?”

Ophee nodded and replied to Ischarus’ question. “Yeah.  I was told that the duplicitous woman was once almost a slave herself.  In fact, she still carries the mark of her slavery with her no matter where she goes.  My master says that this woman is even so bold as to carry the mark openly.  My master says that it should be able to be seen by anyone who knows what to look for.”

Charis’ curiosity was piqued by Ophee’s statement regarding the boldness of the woman.  “Do you know what to look for?  It seems like a mark of slavery would be so rare that it shouldn’t be hard to track down.”

Semeion concurred.  “I agree.  It might appear as a simple tattoo at first glance, though.  If there truly is a slave trade going on through the city of Fingerdale, the marks for slavery would probably appear similar enough to a normal tattoo to be overlooked by anyone who isn’t looking for a mark of slavery specifically.  However, it would be distinct enough so that a slaver would easily identify it on sight.”

Iasho agreed with Semeion’s conclusion.  “That would certainly make sense from a business perspective.  The thing that I find curious is that this woman doesn’t take any steps to hide her own tattoo.  I find that particularly strange.”

Ophee grinned at the older man’s words.  “I asked the same thing of my master.  He said that the one who contracted his services had little answer for that question in particular.  There is some thought that the woman earned her place among the slavers by betraying her own people rather than entering slavery herself.  She didn’t want to betray her own people, but she couldn’t deal with the possibility of being a slave herself.  Thus, she arranged a bargain with the slavers.  She agreed to betray the location of her own people and help to bring them into slavery so long as she did not have to go herself.”

Charis nodded as she thought she understood Ophee’s rationale.  “So the woman took the mark anyway to represent her guilt?  She did it as a permanent reminder for herself of the evil that she performed to save her own skin?”

Ophee shook her head in disagreement.  “In truth, my master suggested that his source provides a much more sinister reason than you suggest.  Your words would indicate that the woman had guilt for her actions and realized the evil within them.  My master suggested that what you propose isn’t what actually happened.  He said that the story is actually that the woman was so eager to avoid slavery by selling her own people into slavery that even the slavers were embarrassed by her willingness to betray her own people.  So, they accepted her terms and marked her as a slave anyway.  She never served as a slave, but she was marked as one even still.  Of course, I understand from my master that this explanation is probable, but speculation at its core nonetheless.”

Brandt continued to look displeased at the news which Ophee had brought forth.  “I still don’t like what this represents.  I’ve worked and studied in Fingerdale for many years now.  I’ve yet to hear of this before today.  Of course, I don’t pretend to know everything that happens, but surely something this evil would at least have come before my desk in the form of a rumor if nothing else.  Furthermore, my father dragon has dwelled in Barghost for my more years than I have been alive and I’d have certainly thought that this is the kind of thing that would have gotten a sniff from him.  Do you mind if I investigate this a little among the people and records of my temple, Ophee?”

Ophee shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter to me so long as I am informed of what you find.  I’ll need to report back to my master in the Wizard’s College.”

Brandt nodded in agreement and Ischarus spoke for the party.  “Keep us informed as well.  This is the type of fight that we typically like to undertake.  Besides, fighting that kind of evil in our own land may have profound ramifications in the Quehalost, at least potentially.”

Ophee shook her head in agreement.  “I’ll take all the allies I can get.  The quicker I dig up information on this, the more my master will be pleased.  I appreciate your offers for help.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Once the hugs were given out and the group was gathered once more around the table – this time with Ophee – Rhema turned to their newest arrival and altered the conversation. “So, is your master’s business private or is it a matter of public knowledge? I am curious about what kind of work you do for the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Ophee smiled at Rhema’s inquisitiveness. “Oh, I can certainly speak about my mission, although I doubt that you all will be able to help me. You see, my master has instructed me to find a certain woman of duplicity.”

Charis snickered at Ophee’s description. “You make it sound so mysterious! She’s a ‘woman of duplicity.’ What’s that supposed to mean? Does she lead a double life?”

Ophee and the rest of the gathered people laughed at Charis’ suggestion. “No, not exactly. Although in truth you aren’t very far off. Apparently there is an anchor to a slave trade organization residing somewhere here in the region that I oversee for my master. My master doesn’t know exactly how the slaves arrive here in Fingerdale, but the person that my master’s services are being contracted for does know that this area is a major hub of activity.”

Brandt frowned. “Slaves passing through this area? That is a bit disturbing to me to be honest. We haven’t had a substantial problem with slavery since the lords of Tongra were united in the Confederacy of Tongra hundreds of years ago. Before then the lords would raid each other’s lands in an attempt to undermine their economy and morale. If people were taken during the raid, they often became slaves to the households that were responsible for organizing the incursion. But that regime hasn’t been around for centuries. Certainly there isn’t any current market for slaves in Tongra.”

Ophee shook her head in disagreement. “Well, my master did tell me that the slavers are not exactly well known. That is why my master talents and my services were needed to find them. The slaves are kept here long enough for them to trade hands, and then they are sent abroad.”

Ischarus looked as though he were in deep thought. “It actually sounds as the type of fight that we try to disrupt ourselves. We are completely opposed to slavery and tyranny of any kind, and would gladly fight against it. If you are successful in your search, let me know. I’d gladly have a hand in the disruption of any slave trade.”

Ophee smiled and nodded at Ischarus’ support. “I will be sure to tell my master. He can pass along the information to the person that has contracted out my master’s services.”

Semeion wasn’t satisfied with the way the discussion of Ophee’s newest job was wrapping up. “Does your master know how these slaves are leaving Fingerdale? I’d be absolutely surprised if they were leaving by land. Driving slaves through a land where slavery isn’t acceptable tends to be rather obvious. I’d bet the slaves were being moved by sea, to be honest.”

Brandt chuckled as his mind registered Semeion’s oversight. “Or by magic, Semeion. Don’t forget your first love, after all.”

A look of obvious disappointment passed over Semeion’s face as everyone else enjoyed another good laugh. Semeion smiled back to Brandt and corrected his earlier conclusion. “I suppose that teleportation magic may well be the method of travel. It would certainly be safe and unrecognizable, that’s for sure.”

Brandt nodded and continued with Semeion’s conclusion. “But, that still leaves out the question of where. If they are going by the sea, then they could be headed anywhere. But if they were leaving by teleportation magic, well that would narrow the span of movement. Teleportation magic has its range limitations. I doubt that the slaves could be leaving the land of Enigmatica by the means of teleportation magic.”

Iasho nodded in agreement as Brandt spoke. “I agree, although I’ve lived near enough to the port to know that it could be possible at the very least. With the right map and the right services of a disreputable captain, it would be possible to ship slaves out of the port to an uncharted island. Teleportation magic might get them the rest of the way.”

Semeion also nodded as Iasho spoke. “Or, perhaps they have multiple places from which they teleport. If a wizard of high enough power visits any of the uncharted islands in the sea and becomes familiar enough with its location, they could teleport unerringly from the mainland to the island. Another wizard could be waiting for them to complete the trip and complete the deal. For the system to work well and be profitable, that would require a few wizards of high power working together. They would burn through their magical aptitude pretty quickly teleporting people across the seas like that.”

Brandt agreed, but spoke to the logistics of what Semeion proposed. “That many higher level wizards working in conjunction with one another would be hard to keep quiet. I’m sure we’d have heard rumors, at least.”

Ophee shook her head from side to side slowly. “Unfortunately, while you all are coming to reasonable conclusions I think you are looking too far. My master has reason to believe that the slaves are going no further than Fenneress and even Barghost.”

Brandt nearly choked on the water that he was sipping as Ophee suggested that the land of Barghost involved slave trade. “What? Your master cannot be serious! As evil as the land of Quehalost is, the land of Barghost is just and righteous! While demons and dark lords rule Quehalost in an eternal struggle for power, the land of Barghost is led by divine agents who seek righteousness and justice above all else. Slavery would be crushed as soon as it was discovered.”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders. “That is what I told my master when he suggested that citizens of Barghost might be involved. But he was adamant that his contact had told him quite definitely that the slaves are occasionally shipped into Barghost. He suggested that it may be possible that the slaves are being used underground or in other areas where visibility is not quite so prevalent.”

Charis shook her head in disagreement. “I remember Ausaphaborishan’s valley. I find it nearly impossible that such a land could hold such an evil.”

Rhema looked at the problem through a more pragmatic lens. “Unfortunately, through the means of things like the magic of Semeion and Brandt or even the intimate powers that I wield this is possible. I find it difficult to believe, but not impossible.”

Ischarus returned the conversation back to the original roots. “And we cannot rule out the possibility, however so small. But, Ophee, you say that you will find this slave trade by looking for a duplicitous woman? Do you know more than that?”

Ophee nodded and replied to Ischarus’ question. “Yeah. I was told that the duplicitous woman was once almost a slave herself. In fact, she still carries the mark of her slavery with her no matter where she goes. My master says that this woman is even so bold as to carry the mark openly. My master says that it should be able to be seen by anyone who knows what to look for.”

Charis’ curiosity was piqued by Ophee’s statement regarding the boldness of the woman. “Do you know what to look for? It seems like a mark of slavery would be so rare that it shouldn’t be hard to track down.”

Semeion concurred. “I agree. It might appear as a simple tattoo at first glance, though. If there truly is a slave trade going on through the city of Fingerdale, the marks for slavery would probably appear similar enough to a normal tattoo to be overlooked by anyone who isn’t looking for a mark of slavery specifically. However, it would be distinct enough so that a slaver would easily identify it on sight.”

Iasho agreed with Semeion’s conclusion. “That would certainly make sense from a business perspective. The thing that I find curious is that this woman doesn’t take any steps to hide her own tattoo. I find that particularly strange.”

Ophee grinned at the older man’s words. “I asked the same thing of my master. He said that the one who contracted his services had little answer for that question in particular. There is some thought that the woman earned her place among the slavers by betraying her own people rather than entering slavery herself. She didn’t want to betray her own people, but she couldn’t deal with the possibility of being a slave herself. Thus, she arranged a bargain with the slavers. She agreed to betray the location of her own people and help to bring them into slavery so long as she did not have to go herself.”

Charis nodded as she thought she understood Ophee’s rationale. “So the woman took the mark anyway to represent her guilt? She did it as a permanent reminder for herself of the evil that she performed to save her own skin?”

Ophee shook her head in disagreement. “In truth, my master suggested that his source provides a much more sinister reason than you suggest. Your words would indicate that the woman had guilt for her actions and realized the evil within them. My master suggested that what you propose isn’t what actually happened. He said that the story is actually that the woman was so eager to avoid slavery by selling her own people into slavery that even the slavers were embarrassed by her willingness to betray her own people. So, they accepted her terms and marked her as a slave anyway. She never served as a slave, but she was marked as one even still. Of course, I understand from my master that this explanation is probable, but speculation at its core nonetheless.”

Brandt continued to look displeased at the news which Ophee had brought forth. “I still don’t like what this represents. I’ve worked and studied in Fingerdale for many years now. I’ve yet to hear of this before today. Of course, I don’t pretend to know everything that happens, but surely something this evil would at least have come before my desk in the form of a rumor if nothing else. Furthermore, my father dragon has dwelled in Barghost for my more years than I have been alive and I’d have certainly thought that this is the kind of thing that would have gotten a sniff from him. Do you mind if I investigate this a little among the people and records of my temple, Ophee?”

Ophee shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me so long as I am informed of what you find. I’ll need to report back to my master in the Wizard’s College.”

Brandt nodded in agreement and Ischarus spoke for the party. “Keep us informed as well. This is the type of fight that we typically like to undertake. Besides, fighting that kind of evil in our own land may have profound ramifications in the Quehalost, at least potentially.”

Ophee shook her head in agreement. “I’ll take all the allies I can get. The quicker I dig up information on this, the more my master will be pleased. I appreciate your offers for help.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 2, 2007)

Ischarus responded to Ophee’s appreciation.  “Think nothing of it, Ophee.  We’re not about only helping ourselves.  We’re about helping to stop any kind of injustice.”

Brandt chuckled.  “I agree.  That pretty much sums up worshipping Reah, for the record.  Where the worship of Reah is strong, justice is sure to predominate within the town.”

Rhema agreed, but was less fascinated with Reah as her husband.  Of course, her ties to Brandt were not nearly as aligned as Ischarus’ ties.  “Might I remind everyone here that we’re no closer to planning a solution to our own dilemma?  A dilemma that I think Ophee has come here to help with?”

Ophee grinned and held out a hand in Rhema’s direction.  “Of course, I’m sorry to have diverted your attention onto my own problems.”

Rhema chuckled in response.  “Don’t worry about it.  Actually, if I recall correctly I am the one who asked you about your mission.  So if we’re looking for blame it rests with me.”

Ophee grinned broadly once more.  “Fair enough.  But I would be interested to hear if my master’s information was helpful to you all.  What exactly did you find out, and how can I help?”

Semeion explained the message that was retrieved from Darkbringer as well as the trip earlier in the day to the town square in Fingerdale.  Of course, he left out any specific mention of the Whetting One in case the caution against speaking the name was legitimate.  In addition, Semeion said nothing about the Darkbringer’s unusual trancelike state out of which she had retrieved the information.  While he was grateful about the help from Ophee, she hadn’t yet earned his trust completely.

Ischarus began the discussion about how to plan for the unknown.  “So as you can see, Ophee, we have a few days to plan before the fateful day.  I suggest that tomorrow we head south of Fingerdale and search for the barn.  If we have the lay of the land, we can make our plans even more specific tomorrow evening.”

Ophee nodded.  “Have you all ruled out some kind of summoning?  Because it sounds to me like you all performed some kind of summoning this afternoon at the statue.  Considering that you apparently triggered some sort of magical spying sensor, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if there is some kind of summoning going on here.”

Brandt fielded Ophee’s question.  “Well, I had ruled out that the original ceremony at the town square was a summoning.  Semeion was careful to only use magic that wouldn’t be able to be perceived across any unnatural boundaries.  But with the presence of the sensor, I don’t think it would hurt to through up some kind of magical warding – or even warning – around the barn.  I can research an effective spell and make sure that it is in place before we go into the barn.”

Semeion nodded along with Brandt’s precaution.  “That is wise, Brandt.  Might I suggest both?  A warning would be effective in any regard.  The warding may be able to be overcome.  After all, we’ve already determined that the magician who was spying on us was able to rival your power.”

Brandt smiled grimly.  “I’ve been doing a bit more thinking, and I don’t believe that we can rule our suspects down to only those who wield arcane power.  Remember, Darkbringer herself wielded power that came from Yrraxea.  We could be dealing with a powerful divine force all the same.  Either way, both the powerful wielders of the arcane and divine are capable of summoning something fierce.  A warding and a warning system would be wise.  I’ll make sure that it is researched and in place before you all have need of it.”

Charis nodded in respect.  “You seem to be doing much for us in this matter, Brandt.  I doubt that we can repay the debt that we are incurring.”

Brandt waved off Charis’ need for repayment with a simple gesture of his hand.  “With each person you free from the slavery of Quehalost you earn my respect and the gratitude of my temple.  Consider my role as fulfillment of Reah’s desire to help you spread justice across the land.”

Iasho brought the group back to the reality of the situation.  “I don’t personally like the thought of my daughter, son-in-law, and their close friends eagerly going into a situation that could get out of your collective ability to control it.  If it is a summoning and the power to summon is more powerful than Brandt’s power, I hope that I don’t need to remind you all that you’ll be in significant danger.”

Silence hung over the party for several minutes while they thought about Iasho’s grim reminder.  Charis spoke once she had enough of her doubts.  “We’ve taken on dragons and evil druids.  We’ve routinely made a habit of playing the antagonist of powers that should crush us.  Isn’t that what we are?”

Semeion proudly placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.  “She’s right, Iasho.  Every time we go into Quehalost we are facing up against enemies that are more powerful than we are.  Besides, so far this conversation has banked on the fact that a summoning is coming.  Before noon today we were convinced that there was no way this could end in a summoning from another world.  I think we should pursue that avenue.”

Brandt concurred.  “Yeah, let’s move off the summoning angle.  The best we can do is ward ourselves from the possibility.  If it turns out to be a summoning, I’ll make sure that we know it is coming.”

Rhema shook her head slowly.  “Just remember Darkbringer’s words.  We are invited to make as many preparations as we can.  We were even encouraged to make sure that we took all the steps necessary to feel comfortable and safe.”

Ischarus laughed, and a hint of superiority flowed from his mouth as he spoke.  “Yeah, and that means one of two things.  It could simply mean that the one we are seeking is an ally to us and our protective plans will be unnecessary.  It could also very well mean that the one we are seeking is confident that they are more powerful than anything we could do.  If that’s the case, then we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.”

Semeion completed the second half of Ischarus’ thought.  “And if that is what is too happen, then the least we can do is be there when it comes.  After all, we are the ones who set it into motion in the first place.”

Brandt saw how the party seemed determined to focus on the worst case scenario.  He stood up to stretch his legs, but he also realized that his height would subtly demonstrate his seniority.  “There are many in my temple who can monitor our lives.  If you all are worried about unleashing some greater force into our world, I’ll simply have one of my fellow priests monitor our life signs.  If something should happen to one of us, the word will be spread through the ranks quickly.”

Ophee questioned Brandt’s plan.  “And what will you say to your superiors regarding the necessity of this plan?  They will no doubt want to know why our lives may be at stake.”

Brandt smiled politely.  “I am so confident that this is not going to result in a summoning that we cannot handle that I am willing to take that risk.  Leave my temple to me.  In fact, leave the whole possibility of a summoning to me and my acolytes.  You all can work on the remainder of the possibilities.”

Iasho could see that his participation had been disruptive to this conversation.  He simply had desired to be cautious, but his concern for the safety of the people he loved had come across as frustration.  “Forgive me.  I haven’t been very productive tonight.  For the sake of moving forward, I think we should agree with Master Brandt.  If he is confident that he can handle the summoning possibility through his magic, then I think that we should trust him.”

Semeion smiled in Brandt’s direction.  “The wisdom of the temple of Reah has not failed us to this point.  So, if Reah will handle the summoning aspect, what else is there to consider?”

Charis chuckled.  “Well, I’ll plan for the possibility that the one that we seek is friendly.  So, if that’s the case then I suggest we invite them to the villa and feed them well.  Then we get the answers that we need.  So, I’m done with my part!”

Charis’ interjection was the point of humor that was needed to break the tension of the more serious possibilities.  Ischarus spoke through the tail end of his laugh.  “Well, we’ve done a good job planning for the extreme possibilities.  Now, anyone care to handle something a little more likely to happen?”

Rhema nodded and took her husband’s and her father’s lead to let go of the possibility of a summoning.  “Well, the way I see it, we are likely going to face some kind of physical opponent who has magical abilities.  If that’s the case, a straight forward assault with weapons is going to be more likely to succeed if things go poorly.  Using magic, or even my mind control, isn’t going to be a good strategy if our opponent is a good spell caster.”

Ophee nodded in agreement.  “I can plan a few illusions and tricks to deceive the senses.  If the one you are seeking is antagonistic to your search I can make it a little harder for them to distinguish which one of us is a legitimate target and which one is an illusion.  That could make them use up precious resources.”

Ischarus allowed a smile of pleasure to pass over his face.  “Now we’re talking in the right kind of direction.  I’ll make sure the edges of my weapons are sharp.  Charis, will you join me in frontal assault if it comes to it?”

Charis nodded in agreement.  “That goes without saying.  And I can even use a bit of my newest powers to bring some real threats among Ophee’s illusionary ones.”

Semeion looked to Brandt, who sat back down.  “Good, so we have a plan.  Tomorrow we’ll investigate the barn and lay down some more specific plans.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus responded to Ophee’s appreciation. “Think nothing of it, Ophee. We’re not about only helping ourselves. We’re about helping to stop any kind of injustice.”

Brandt chuckled. “I agree. That pretty much sums up worshipping Reah, for the record. Where the worship of Reah is strong, justice is sure to predominate within the town.”

Rhema agreed, but was less fascinated with Reah as her husband. Of course, her ties to Brandt were not nearly as aligned as Ischarus’ ties. “Might I remind everyone here that we’re no closer to planning a solution to our own dilemma? A dilemma that I think Ophee has come here to help with?”

Ophee grinned and held out a hand in Rhema’s direction. “Of course, I’m sorry to have diverted your attention onto my own problems.”

Rhema chuckled in response. “Don’t worry about it. Actually, if I recall correctly I am the one who asked you about your mission. So if we’re looking for blame it rests with me.”

Ophee grinned broadly once more. “Fair enough. But I would be interested to hear if my master’s information was helpful to you all. What exactly did you find out, and how can I help?”

Semeion explained the message that was retrieved from Darkbringer as well as the trip earlier in the day to the town square in Fingerdale. Of course, he left out any specific mention of the Whetting One in case the caution against speaking the name was legitimate. In addition, Semeion said nothing about the Darkbringer’s unusual trancelike state out of which she had retrieved the information. While he was grateful about the help from Ophee, she hadn’t yet earned his trust completely.

Ischarus began the discussion about how to plan for the unknown. “So as you can see, Ophee, we have a few days to plan before the fateful day. I suggest that tomorrow we head south of Fingerdale and search for the barn. If we have the lay of the land, we can make our plans even more specific tomorrow evening.”

Ophee nodded. “Have you all ruled out some kind of summoning? Because it sounds to me like you all performed some kind of summoning this afternoon at the statue. Considering that you apparently triggered some sort of magical spying sensor, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if there is some kind of summoning going on here.”

Brandt fielded Ophee’s question. “Well, I had ruled out that the original ceremony at the town square was a summoning. Semeion was careful to only use magic that wouldn’t be able to be perceived across any unnatural boundaries. But with the presence of the sensor, I don’t think it would hurt to through up some kind of magical warding – or even warning – around the barn. I can research an effective spell and make sure that it is in place before we go into the barn.”

Semeion nodded along with Brandt’s precaution. “That is wise, Brandt. Might I suggest both? A warning would be effective in any regard. The warding may be able to be overcome. After all, we’ve already determined that the magician who was spying on us was able to rival your power.”

Brandt smiled grimly. “I’ve been doing a bit more thinking, and I don’t believe that we can rule our suspects down to only those who wield arcane power. Remember, Darkbringer herself wielded power that came from Yrraxea. We could be dealing with a powerful divine force all the same. Either way, both the powerful wielders of the arcane and divine are capable of summoning something fierce. A warding and a warning system would be wise. I’ll make sure that it is researched and in place before you all have need of it.”

Charis nodded in respect. “You seem to be doing much for us in this matter, Brandt. I doubt that we can repay the debt that we are incurring.”

Brandt waved off Charis’ need for repayment with a simple gesture of his hand. “With each person you free from the slavery of Quehalost you earn my respect and the gratitude of my temple. Consider my role as fulfillment of Reah’s desire to help you spread justice across the land.”

Iasho brought the group back to the reality of the situation. “I don’t personally like the thought of my daughter, son-in-law, and their close friends eagerly going into a situation that could get out of your collective ability to control it. If it is a summoning and the power to summon is more powerful than Brandt’s power, I hope that I don’t need to remind you all that you’ll be in significant danger.”

Silence hung over the party for several minutes while they thought about Iasho’s grim reminder. Charis spoke once she had enough of her doubts. “We’ve taken on dragons and evil druids. We’ve routinely made a habit of playing the antagonist of powers that should crush us. Isn’t that what we are?”

Semeion proudly placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “She’s right, Iasho. Every time we go into Quehalost we are facing up against enemies that are more powerful than we are. Besides, so far this conversation has banked on the fact that a summoning is coming. Before noon today we were convinced that there was no way this could end in a summoning from another world. I think we should pursue that avenue.”

Brandt concurred. “Yeah, let’s move off the summoning angle. The best we can do is ward ourselves from the possibility. If it turns out to be a summoning, I’ll make sure that we know it is coming.”

Rhema shook her head slowly. “Just remember Darkbringer’s words. We are invited to make as many preparations as we can. We were even encouraged to make sure that we took all the steps necessary to feel comfortable and safe.”

Ischarus laughed, and a hint of superiority flowed from his mouth as he spoke. “Yeah, and that means one of two things. It could simply mean that the one we are seeking is an ally to us and our protective plans will be unnecessary. It could also very well mean that the one we are seeking is confident that they are more powerful than anything we could do. If that’s the case, then we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.”

Semeion completed the second half of Ischarus’ thought. “And if that is what is too happen, then the least we can do is be there when it comes. After all, we are the ones who set it into motion in the first place.”

Brandt saw how the party seemed determined to focus on the worst case scenario. He stood up to stretch his legs, but he also realized that his height would subtly demonstrate his seniority. “There are many in my temple who can monitor our lives. If you all are worried about unleashing some greater force into our world, I’ll simply have one of my fellow priests monitor our life signs. If something should happen to one of us, the word will be spread through the ranks quickly.”

Ophee questioned Brandt’s plan. “And what will you say to your superiors regarding the necessity of this plan? They will no doubt want to know why our lives may be at stake.”

Brandt smiled politely. “I am so confident that this is not going to result in a summoning that we cannot handle that I am willing to take that risk. Leave my temple to me. In fact, leave the whole possibility of a summoning to me and my acolytes. You all can work on the remainder of the possibilities.”

Iasho could see that his participation had been disruptive to this conversation. He simply had desired to be cautious, but his concern for the safety of the people he loved had come across as frustration. “Forgive me. I haven’t been very productive tonight. For the sake of moving forward, I think we should agree with Master Brandt. If he is confident that he can handle the summoning possibility through his magic, then I think that we should trust him.”

Semeion smiled in Brandt’s direction. “The wisdom of the temple of Reah has not failed us to this point. So, if Reah will handle the summoning aspect, what else is there to consider?”

Charis chuckled. “Well, I’ll plan for the possibility that the one that we seek is friendly. So, if that’s the case then I suggest we invite them to the villa and feed them well. Then we get the answers that we need. So, I’m done with my part!”

Charis’ interjection was the point of humor that was needed to break the tension of the more serious possibilities. Ischarus spoke through the tail end of his laugh. “Well, we’ve done a good job planning for the extreme possibilities. Now, anyone care to handle something a little more likely to happen?”

Rhema nodded and took her husband’s and her father’s lead to let go of the possibility of a summoning. “Well, the way I see it, we are likely going to face some kind of physical opponent who has magical abilities. If that’s the case, a straight forward assault with weapons is going to be more likely to succeed if things go poorly. Using magic, or even my mind control, isn’t going to be a good strategy if our opponent is a good spell caster.”

Ophee nodded in agreement. “I can plan a few illusions and tricks to deceive the senses. If the one you are seeking is antagonistic to your search I can make it a little harder for them to distinguish which one of us is a legitimate target and which one is an illusion. That could make them use up precious resources.”

Ischarus allowed a smile of pleasure to pass over his face. “Now we’re talking in the right kind of direction. I’ll make sure the edges of my weapons are sharp. Charis, will you join me in frontal assault if it comes to it?”

Charis nodded in agreement. “That goes without saying. And I can even use a bit of my newest powers to bring some real threats among Ophee’s illusionary ones.”

Semeion looked to Brandt, who sat back down. “Good, so we have a plan. Tomorrow we’ll investigate the barn and lay down some more specific plans.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 5, 2007)

The following days kept Brandt and Semeion busy, specifically on the magical defense front.  Semeion and Brandt both spent time researching detailed arcane defenses not knowing exactly what they would be facing.  Ischarus, Charis, Rhema, and Ophee traveled south of Fingerdale until they found the barn in question.  The barn was precisely where Darkbringer had said that it would be.  They found out that it was a simple and abandoned structure on a field of overgrown grasses.  It would draw very little attention from anyone.

The remainder of the days we spent making sure the party was going to be prepared.  The blades were sharpened, the horse’s gear was tested for durability in case there would be some need to flee rapidly, and a few potions and salves were purchased just in case there would be a need for quick healing or other various remedies.  Between the preparations and the work happening around them at the villa, the party found themselves arriving before noon on the proper day quicker than they imagined.  Iasho stayed outside with the horses.

The barn was long and narrow, and it had two equal doors on each end.  The doors were wide enough to accommodate some type of livestock; presumably the barn had once stored cattle or horses.  The barn had a loft that ran the entire length of the structure.  The loft looked to have once been a storage area for hay and alfalfa.  There were several pens that were visible, but many of the dividing structures had rotted away and it was unlikely that any of the pens could successfully hold a horse or a cow.

Brandt and Semeion turned around in circles once they stepped inside the barn.  Brandt immediately began formulating a tactical plan.  “We should occupy one end of the barn, preferably the north end.  That way we have access to flee.  Although it seems to be more stable, if we take the southern end and we have to flee we’ll be riding past the north end and possibly the danger on our return to Fingerdale.  The north end will allow us to flee without passing by whatever we are going to face.”

Charis nodded in agreement.  “Sounds like a good strategy to me.  Just let me know when you are ready for me to try and contact Bemme for an indication of what is to come.”

Brandt smiled politely.  “So, you have chosen a deity to venerate since coming from Quehalost?  Of the choices, I think that Bemme and her compassion fit you well.  Although, I would be remiss in my duties as a servant of Reah if I did not tell you how much Reah will miss your service.”

Charis looked embarrassedly towards Brandt’s feet as he spoke and then she replied.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I certainly am grateful to your temple and Reah herself for all that she has done for me.  And I certainly respect her work through her temples and followers.  Yet, if I have learned anything about who I was in Quehalost I know that it is love that kept me strong.  Love for my people is what guided me to be the person that I am.  Of course Reah’s justice is necessary, but Bemme’s love is what draws life from my soul.”

As Semeion’s hand and arm wrapped around Charis’ waist in a brief and loving embrace, Brandt wished her well.  “I have many friends who choose to venerate Bemme.  She herself is worthy, as is her consort Ahtoe.  I know you will serve them well.”

Ischarus unsheathed his sword and investigated further into the barn.  “Charis, didn’t you say that your connection to Bemme only allows you to see vague impressions of the upcoming hour or so?”

Charis turned her eyes to Ischarus and replied.  “Yes, I did.”

Ischarus replied, “Then I would suggest that we wait on your impression until we are closer to noon.  The closer we get to the noon hour, the more likely you’ll be able to focus on the right impression.  Brandt and Semeion can begin laying down their magical protections until we draw closer to the appropriate time.”

Brandt knew his cue when he heard it.  He knelt to the ground and slowly lifted a long narrow tube over his shoulders.  The tube rested across his back like that of an archer’s quiver, although Brandt’s tube contained no arrows.  Brandt touched the end of the tube for precisely two seconds before unscrewing the cap.  “My tube knows me, and it only lets me open it.”  The priest of Reah began pulling out a series of pieces of parchment with magical writings upon it.

Semeion saw the writing on several of the sheets of paper as Brandt rested them on the ground.  The writing was identical on each piece.  Brandt slowly walked around to each person within the barn and placed a hand on their forehead.  “Al-Doithican Zhendahl Sooth.”  When Brandt had completed the cycle of the six people inside the barn, he rested his hand upon the barn and spoke the same words as before.  

When he was done with his first task, Brandt’s hands now held seven blank pieces of paper.  “That should make us all invisible to someone’s attempt to locate us or magically spy on us.”

Semeion chuckled at Brandt’s magical cunning.  “And you’ve even blanked the barn from magical spying?  I must say, that’s ingenious.”

Brandt grinned at the praise.  “Well, not knowing exactly what is coming, I assumed that someone would be trying to find out if we’ve actually come at the right time.  So, I figured that if I was able to blank all memorable objects that could act as foci, they’d have greater difficulty accomplishing their purpose.  Of course, that won’t prevent them from actually coming.  The only spells that I was able to research to prevent them from coming were far beyond my scope to cast.  However, I was able to find a spell that would delay their coming and instruct me regarding the precise nature of anything that would come.  That is going to be my next trick.”

Ischarus, Rhema, Charis, and Ophee sat down upon the ground as it appeared that Brandt and Semeion would be stealing the show for a while.  They were appreciative of the arcane warding, but they had no desire to stand while the warding would take place.  The casting, as well as Brandt’s and Semeion’s enjoyment of performing the warding magic, would simply need to be endured.

Brandt pulled out another scroll and carefully unrolled it before placing it on the ground and kneeling before it.  “Thizzle Placilicuhn”  He smiled and rolled the paper up and returned it into the tube with the other seven pieces of parchment.

Semeion knew that he was up next.  He had spent quite some time researching a spell that would signal an alarm if anything tried to enter the barn area.  It was one thing to ward off any sort of teleportation; it was another thing to be aware if a creature simply walked up to the barn and entered it much like they had just done.  When he had finished researching the spell he had asked Brandt to review the spell dynamics with him.  Brandt assured Semeion that the spell would work as planned.  He inscribed the spell onto the piece of parchment from which he now cast the spell.

Semeion drew his rapier out of its scabbard he tied a small piece of twine around the hilt and attached the other end of the twine to a small bell.  He spun around in a circle, and as he did the twine began to grow in length magically.  The bell rang as Semeion spun around.  Eventually the twine grew long enough to strike one of the walls of the barn and as the bell dropped to the ground Semeion called out another magical command.  “Thizzle Shintar.”  When he had finished, he nodded to both Brandt and Charis.  “I will be alerted to any new presences within the barn for several hours.  Now, if I recall correctly, it is time to ward each of us against evil.”

Charis and Semeion each received a pair of scrolls from Brandt, who had kept a pair for himself.  Brandt looked to Ophee, Ischarus, and Rhema and informed them of the next step.  “Rest assured, these magical wards were each prepared by me, so they will all be equally effective.  Do not fear that just because I am not the one casting a spell upon you that it is less effective.  This spell should help defend each of you from possession, among other things.”

Brandt approached Ophee and again touched her forehead.  “Paash Ahrah.”  Brandt then touched his own forehead and spoke the same words.  Charis cast the same spell over Rhema and herself while Semeion cast the spell over himself and Ischarus.  For several seconds the effect of the magic made the entire group appear as though they were protected by a shimmering golden barrier.

Semeion handed the now empty parchments back to Brandt and added one final instruction.  “Brandt and I have prepared one last precaution.  However, due to the nature of the magic involved we can only cast it upon ourselves.  There is the possibility that we could run across an invisible enemy.  In fact, it is quite possible that an invisible being could already be here.  To prevent that possibility from taking us by surprise, we’re going to make ourselves capable of seeing the unseen.”

Simultaneously, Brandt and Semeion spoke the magical words as if they had rehearsed together for hours.  Charis noticed that her husband’s eyes appeared to radiate a faint glow that was nearly imperceptible without focusing on the eyes.  Brandt and Semeion turned around in the barn and examined each section closely before indicating that the barn was free from anything invisible.

Brandt turned to Charis and smiled.  “As predicted, the magical protections have almost brought us up to noon.  I would suggest that you contact Bemme for your glimpse.  With our spells already cast, I think that your perception will be more accurate.”

Charis continued to stay seated as she closed her eyes and brought her hands together in front of her.  “Most loving Bemme, I ask for a glimpse of your foresight to look into the future.  Can you give me any hint as to what might come?”  Charis paused for a moment to allow a silent prayer to be offered from her mind before adding a magical command.  “Xyzzyx Egro.”

Semeion grinned at Charis’ command and whispered a response to Ophee, who sat beside him.  “The nonsensical sound of that command has got to be one of my favorites that my wife can perform.”

Charis smiled briefly as she heard Semeion’s comment.  The smile didn’t last long, however.  Her mouth opened in shock as her eyes snapped open.  Her eyes were both completely out of focus for several seconds before they began to register that they were open.  Semeion shook his head slowly and spoke.  “Not good, people.”

Brandt knew the expression without needing to be told.  “Charis, what did you see?”

Charis shook her head slowly in disbelief.  “I saw flames.  The barn was consumed in flames.”

Rhema began to speak, but Brandt cut her off.  “No, we’ve come too far to simply turn around.  Whatever is coming is apparently going to be evil and use fire.  Fortunately, I anticipated a magical attack of elemental proportions.  I am prepared to protect each of you.”

Brandt walked to the center of the party.  “Join hands and circle around me.”  When the other five people had complied, Brandt closed his eyes and spoke another magical command.  “Terisse Kelath Cadrass.”  Brandt opened his eyes and smiled.  “There, we are all warded against much of the dangers of fire.  You need only fear the greatest of flames.”

Charis shuddered.  “I’ve feared fire much of my life.  I hope that the two are not connected.”

Brandt nodded.  “As do I.  The time is almost at hand.  I have one last spell that will allow me to detect any evil presence immediately.  Once that spell has been cast, I suggest we wait in silence until Semeion calls out the name once more.”

Brandt waited for a response that never came.  Charis’ vision was disturbing.  Now it was important to trust in Brandt’s ability to protect them.  Brandt spoke the words of his final spell.  “Thizzle Pahl”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The following days kept Brandt and Semeion busy, specifically on the magical defense front. Semeion and Brandt both spent time researching detailed arcane defenses not knowing exactly what they would be facing. Ischarus, Charis, Rhema, and Ophee traveled south of Fingerdale until they found the barn in question. The barn was precisely where Darkbringer had said that it would be. They found out that it was a simple and abandoned structure on a field of overgrown grasses. It would draw very little attention from anyone.

The remainder of the days we spent making sure the party was going to be prepared. The blades were sharpened, the horse’s gear was tested for durability in case there would be some need to flee rapidly, and a few potions and salves were purchased just in case there would be a need for quick healing or other various remedies. Between the preparations and the work happening around them at the villa, the party found themselves arriving before noon on the proper day quicker than they imagined. Iasho stayed outside with the horses.

The barn was long and narrow, and it had two equal doors on each end. The doors were wide enough to accommodate some type of livestock; presumably the barn had once stored cattle or horses. The barn had a loft that ran the entire length of the structure. The loft looked to have once been a storage area for hay and alfalfa. There were several pens that were visible, but many of the dividing structures had rotted away and it was unlikely that any of the pens could successfully hold a horse or a cow.

Brandt and Semeion turned around in circles once they stepped inside the barn. Brandt immediately began formulating a tactical plan. “We should occupy one end of the barn, preferably the north end. That way we have access to flee. Although it seems to be more stable, if we take the southern end and we have to flee we’ll be riding past the north end and possibly the danger on our return to Fingerdale. The north end will allow us to flee without passing by whatever we are going to face.”

Charis nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a good strategy to me. Just let me know when you are ready for me to try and contact Bemme for an indication of what is to come.”

Brandt smiled politely. “So, you have chosen a deity to venerate since coming from Quehalost? Of the choices, I think that Bemme and her compassion fit you well. Although, I would be remiss in my duties as a servant of Reah if I did not tell you how much Reah will miss your service.”

Charis looked embarrassedly towards Brandt’s feet as he spoke and then she replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I certainly am grateful to your temple and Reah herself for all that she has done for me. And I certainly respect her work through her temples and followers. Yet, if I have learned anything about who I was in Quehalost I know that it is love that kept me strong. Love for my people is what guided me to be the person that I am. Of course Reah’s justice is necessary, but Bemme’s love is what draws life from my soul.”

As Semeion’s hand and arm wrapped around Charis’ waist in a brief and loving embrace, Brandt wished her well. “I have many friends who choose to venerate Bemme. She herself is worthy, as is her consort Ahtoe. I know you will serve them well.”

Ischarus unsheathed his sword and investigated further into the barn. “Charis, didn’t you say that your connection to Bemme only allows you to see vague impressions of the upcoming hour or so?”

Charis turned her eyes to Ischarus and replied. “Yes, I did.”

Ischarus replied, “Then I would suggest that we wait on your impression until we are closer to noon. The closer we get to the noon hour, the more likely you’ll be able to focus on the right impression. Brandt and Semeion can begin laying down their magical protections until we draw closer to the appropriate time.”

Brandt knew his cue when he heard it. He knelt to the ground and slowly lifted a long narrow tube over his shoulders. The tube rested across his back like that of an archer’s quiver, although Brandt’s tube contained no arrows. Brandt touched the end of the tube for precisely two seconds before unscrewing the cap. “My tube knows me, and it only lets me open it.” The priest of Reah began pulling out a series of pieces of parchment with magical writings upon it.

Semeion saw the writing on several of the sheets of paper as Brandt rested them on the ground. The writing was identical on each piece. Brandt slowly walked around to each person within the barn and placed a hand on their forehead. “Al-Doithican Zhendahl Sooth.” When Brandt had completed the cycle of the six people inside the barn, he rested his hand upon the barn and spoke the same words as before. 

When he was done with his first task, Brandt’s hands now held seven blank pieces of paper. “That should make us all invisible to someone’s attempt to locate us or magically spy on us.”

Semeion chuckled at Brandt’s magical cunning. “And you’ve even blanked the barn from magical spying? I must say, that’s ingenious.”

Brandt grinned at the praise. “Well, not knowing exactly what is coming, I assumed that someone would be trying to find out if we’ve actually come at the right time. So, I figured that if I was able to blank all memorable objects that could act as foci, they’d have greater difficulty accomplishing their purpose. Of course, that won’t prevent them from actually coming. The only spells that I was able to research to prevent them from coming were far beyond my scope to cast. However, I was able to find a spell that would delay their coming and instruct me regarding the precise nature of anything that would come. That is going to be my next trick.”

Ischarus, Rhema, Charis, and Ophee sat down upon the ground as it appeared that Brandt and Semeion would be stealing the show for a while. They were appreciative of the arcane warding, but they had no desire to stand while the warding would take place. The casting, as well as Brandt’s and Semeion’s enjoyment of performing the warding magic, would simply need to be endured.

Brandt pulled out another scroll and carefully unrolled it before placing it on the ground and kneeling before it. “Thizzle Placilicuhn” He smiled and rolled the paper up and returned it into the tube with the other seven pieces of parchment.

Semeion knew that he was up next. He had spent quite some time researching a spell that would signal an alarm if anything tried to enter the barn area. It was one thing to ward off any sort of teleportation; it was another thing to be aware if a creature simply walked up to the barn and entered it much like they had just done. When he had finished researching the spell he had asked Brandt to review the spell dynamics with him. Brandt assured Semeion that the spell would work as planned. He inscribed the spell onto the piece of parchment from which he now cast the spell.

Semeion drew his rapier out of its scabbard he tied a small piece of twine around the hilt and attached the other end of the twine to a small bell. He spun around in a circle, and as he did the twine began to grow in length magically. The bell rang as Semeion spun around. Eventually the twine grew long enough to strike one of the walls of the barn and as the bell dropped to the ground Semeion called out another magical command. “Thizzle Shintar.” When he had finished, he nodded to both Brandt and Charis. “I will be alerted to any new presences within the barn for several hours. Now, if I recall correctly, it is time to ward each of us against evil.”

Charis and Semeion each received a pair of scrolls from Brandt, who had kept a pair for himself. Brandt looked to Ophee, Ischarus, and Rhema and informed them of the next step. “Rest assured, these magical wards were each prepared by me, so they will all be equally effective. Do not fear that just because I am not the one casting a spell upon you that it is less effective. This spell should help defend each of you from possession, among other things.”

Brandt approached Ophee and again touched her forehead. “Paash Ahrah.” Brandt then touched his own forehead and spoke the same words. Charis cast the same spell over Rhema and herself while Semeion cast the spell over himself and Ischarus. For several seconds the effect of the magic made the entire group appear as though they were protected by a shimmering golden barrier.

Semeion handed the now empty parchments back to Brandt and added one final instruction. “Brandt and I have prepared one last precaution. However, due to the nature of the magic involved we can only cast it upon ourselves. There is the possibility that we could run across an invisible enemy. In fact, it is quite possible that an invisible being could already be here. To prevent that possibility from taking us by surprise, we’re going to make ourselves capable of seeing the unseen.”

Simultaneously, Brandt and Semeion spoke the magical words as if they had rehearsed together for hours. Charis noticed that her husband’s eyes appeared to radiate a faint glow that was nearly imperceptible without focusing on the eyes. Brandt and Semeion turned around in the barn and examined each section closely before indicating that the barn was free from anything invisible.

Brandt turned to Charis and smiled. “As predicted, the magical protections have almost brought us up to noon. I would suggest that you contact Bemme for your glimpse. With our spells already cast, I think that your perception will be more accurate.”

Charis continued to stay seated as she closed her eyes and brought her hands together in front of her. “Most loving Bemme, I ask for a glimpse of your foresight to look into the future. Can you give me any hint as to what might come?” Charis paused for a moment to allow a silent prayer to be offered from her mind before adding a magical command. “Xyzzyx Egro.”

Semeion grinned at Charis’ command and whispered a response to Ophee, who sat beside him. “The nonsensical sound of that command has got to be one of my favorites that my wife can perform.”

Charis smiled briefly as she heard Semeion’s comment. The smile didn’t last long, however. Her mouth opened in shock as her eyes snapped open. Her eyes were both completely out of focus for several seconds before they began to register that they were open. Semeion shook his head slowly and spoke. “Not good, people.”

Brandt knew the expression without needing to be told. “Charis, what did you see?”

Charis shook her head slowly in disbelief. “I saw flames. The barn was consumed in flames.”

Rhema began to speak, but Brandt cut her off. “No, we’ve come too far to simply turn around. Whatever is coming is apparently going to be evil and use fire. Fortunately, I anticipated a magical attack of elemental proportions. I am prepared to protect each of you.”

Brandt walked to the center of the party. “Join hands and circle around me.” When the other five people had complied, Brandt closed his eyes and spoke another magical command. “Terisse Kelath Cadrass.” Brandt opened his eyes and smiled. “There, we are all warded against much of the dangers of fire. You need only fear the greatest of flames.”

Charis shuddered. “I’ve feared fire much of my life. I hope that the two are not connected.”

Brandt nodded. “As do I. The time is almost at hand. I have one last spell that will allow me to detect any evil presence immediately. Once that spell has been cast, I suggest we wait in silence until Semeion calls out the name once more.”

Brandt waited for a response that never came. Charis’ vision was disturbing. Now it was important to trust in Brandt’s ability to protect them. Brandt spoke the words of his final spell. “Thizzle Pahl”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 8, 2007)

Brandt nodded to the others as his spell was finished.  “The time has come, Semeion.  Wait for the rest of us to be prepared and then speak the name when I indicate.  Noon is upon us.”

Brandt turned and glanced to Charis.  She knew what his look meant.  She stepped to Semeion’s left and took up a flanking position ten feet away.  “Don’t worry, Semeion.  I’ve got my spells ready.  If something comes that we can’t handle, I have a few friends of Bemme that can buy us a bit of time.  When in doubt, make for the door.”

Once Charis was in position and ready, Brandt turned to Ophee.  She moved to a position that was the same distance away from Semeion as Charis but behind him and to his right.  “My spells are ready as well.  As soon as you move away, I can create a perfect illusion of you.  Hopefully that will be enough to distract whoever comes so that we can assess the situation properly.”

Brandt nodded to Rhema.  She knew that her powers of mind control would be unlikely to work against a dangerous threat.  However, she could still assault the creature’s mind like she had done so many times traversing the tunnels into Quehalost.  Rhema swallowed hard, still not completely confident that Brandt had been able to ward the party from Charis’ omen.  “I am ready.”  She stood fifteen feet behind Semeion, just inside the large door in the north end of the barn.

Ischarus was next.  He hadn’t waited for Brandt to motion him into position.  He was confident that they would overcome whatever threat Charis had seen in her brief vision.  His sword was already drawn, and he strapped his shield into place.  There wasn’t any need to say anything.  He was the image of readiness.  He stood to Semeion’s right, directly opposite Charis.

Brandt waited until everyone else was prepared before stepping into a position mirroring Ophee.  He was also fifteen feet from Semeion; but unlike Ophee, Brandt was behind him and to his left.  He stood between Charis and Rhema, and he concentrated for just a moment to make sure that his magical spells were each still in place.

Semeion swallowed hard and turned his head to look in Brandt’s direction.  He saw the priest of Reah standing with his eyes closed, concentration on the magic he had laid down in preparation.  He didn’t realize that Brandt was counting the seconds.

At precisely noon, Brandt opened his eyes and stared directly into Semeion’s eyes.  “Now, Semeion.  Speak the name now!”

Semeion’s heart stopped as if time stood still.  At this very moment he could hear the anticipatory inhalations of the companions around him.  He could hear the leather of Ischarus’ glove rubbing against the hilt of his sword just above the pommel.  He swore for an instant he could even hear Charis’ heart beat in her chest.  “Whetting One.”  His voice was strong and confident.

Time stood still for several seconds as all the eyes of the party darted around the inside of the barn toward the far end.  Semeion and Brandt focused hard on their magic and tried to pick up any indication of a presence coming to them.  Nobody noticed Ophee lift her hand and point it towards Semeion.

Ophee spoke with an emotionless, flat tone in her voice.  “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath”

Semeion erupted in fire before he could react.  The fire quickly moved to engulf the entire party, including Ophee.  The flames easily engulfed the foursome and Brandt but it could not approach Ophee’s position.  The flames desperately tried to consume her, but a magical sphere around her prevented the flames from approaching.

Semeion turned and looked towards Ophee as his body fell to the ground.  He noticed that her eyes had a look identical to that of Darkbringer when the Phoenix command had been given to her.  As his body crashed to the ground, he remembered Darkbringer’s strange flat tone after being given the Phoenix command.  His eyes closed against the oppressive heat as his mind finally put together what had happened.  The intense flames licked at his skin, immediately blackening the flesh.

Neither Ischarus nor Charis were able to prepare themselves against the blow of Ophee’s spell.  They had been so anticipating the coming of the Whetting One that they had never suspected that the Whetting One was already within their ranks.  Their backs had been to Ophee as she cast the spell stored in the ring.  The concussive blast from the flaming ball of hatred knocked them off of their feet.  Charis crashed into the left wall of the barn and flames from her cloak smoldered before catching the dry wood of the side of the barn on fire. 

Ischarus was also blown away from Semeion.  Flames magically honed in on his position and arced away from Semeion in a thirsty lust filled race to consume his flesh.  His clothing burned with intense rage and the iron of his sword glowed with a dull red.  His skin along the palm of his hand that held the hilt of his sword burned so quickly that it fused into the melted leather of the glove and the cushioned hilt.  The force of the blast had knocked Ischarus unconscious and in an act of grace felt none of the scorching effects of the flame.

Rhema was also knocked away from Semeion by the blast.  Her soft brown hair singed and melted against the oppressive heat.  The power that she held in her mind vanished in the face of the intense burning pain.  As her burning body flew backwards through the air, small embers fell from her cloak and started the surrounding grass on fire.  Only a matter of seconds passed by until the dry and neglected field around the barn was in danger of ignition.

Brandt himself was unprepared for the seemingly friendly fire assault.  Although he was highly skill in magic, his mind was too distracted with his other spells to focus on weaving his body around the flames.  He was blown into the northeast corner of the barn, and like the others his clothes smoldered and caught flame under the intense heat.  His hair also began to singe and melt as he lay upon the floor in the corner of the barn.  Mentally he cursed himself for failing to raise a person barrier like the one that protected Ophee.  It was in his power to have done so; it was an oversight.

Ophee stood in her bubble of protection until the flames decreased to a manageable level.  Her face remained vacant in expression as she looked around the barn.  A slight smile of pleasure crossed her face as she realized that Rhema had been ejected from the barn completely.  She brought her hands together and joined her fingers, flexing them away from her body.  Several of her knuckles popped as if celebrating the easy victory.  “Fools.  They didn’t even see it coming.”

Ophee chuckled unenthusiastically as her eyes caught Charis through the flames.  It would only be a minute or two before the walls of the barn had burned enough to weaken them.  The roof would begin to collapse, ensuring that they would all die.  The smile vanished from her face as she focused on Charis.  “Actually, they did see it coming.  They saw it coming in perfect clarity and could do nothing to stop the power of my master.  The pathetic fire protection was nothing to my master’s spell.”

As Brandt’s mind wracked with pain, he found himself focusing on a series of magical words.  His lips were dry and cracked, and moving them brought searing blood to the surface and through the thin dry skin.  He whispered, more out of minimizing the pain than alerting Ophee to his presence.  “Ragnoll Diast Nuan”  He could see the protective barrier magically form around him.

Ophee didn’t turn in his direction.  She hadn’t noticed that he was still alive.  He lifted himself slowly up onto an elbow.  He managed to bring his knees under him and rise to a kneeling position.  He thought about challenging Ophee but decided against it.  She had given them no warning of impending danger and he would repay the sentiment.  “Thin Diast poisse Fashiir.”

Coldness shot forth from his hand and quenched the fire burning between Brandt and Ophee.  Unlike the flames, Brandt’s attack of frozen air held no respect for the magical barrier that had kept out the flames.  Ophee was hit by the attack from behind and was pushed into the wall of the barn.  Her skin instantly turned blue as her lungs burned against breathing in the arctic air.  With little grace she dropped to the floor of the barn.

Icicles had formed above her body, and the heat of the fire began to melt the icicles as soon as the effect of Brandt’s spell ceased.  Brandt slowly stood to his feet and tried to lick his lips.  He had no saliva left, but the moisture from his own blood soothed his burned skin enough that he could speak.  “When you knock a wizard to the ground, Ophee, make sure they never get back up.  When you knock a priest of Reah to the ground, be doubly sure.  Justice will find you, and often following the quickest path!

Brandt couldn’t bring himself to feel smug, however.  Too much had been lost.  Nobody was left moving in the barn except him.  Ophee had been frozen and her skin showed signs of deep frostbite.  Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion had been burned almost beyond recognition.  There was no sign of Rhema among the now burning grasses.  Only the shouts and cries of Iasho told him that anyone had survived beside himself.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt nodded to the others as his spell was finished. “The time has come, Semeion. Wait for the rest of us to be prepared and then speak the name when I indicate. Noon is upon us.”

Brandt turned and glanced to Charis. She knew what his look meant. She stepped to Semeion’s left and took up a flanking position ten feet away. “Don’t worry, Semeion. I’ve got my spells ready. If something comes that we can’t handle, I have a few friends of Bemme that can buy us a bit of time. When in doubt, make for the door.”

Once Charis was in position and ready, Brandt turned to Ophee. She moved to a position that was the same distance away from Semeion as Charis but behind him and to his right. “My spells are ready as well. As soon as you move away, I can create a perfect illusion of you. Hopefully that will be enough to distract whoever comes so that we can assess the situation properly.”

Brandt nodded to Rhema. She knew that her powers of mind control would be unlikely to work against a dangerous threat. However, she could still assault the creature’s mind like she had done so many times traversing the tunnels into Quehalost. Rhema swallowed hard, still not completely confident that Brandt had been able to ward the party from Charis’ omen. “I am ready.” She stood fifteen feet behind Semeion, just inside the large door in the north end of the barn.

Ischarus was next. He hadn’t waited for Brandt to motion him into position. He was confident that they would overcome whatever threat Charis had seen in her brief vision. His sword was already drawn, and he strapped his shield into place. There wasn’t any need to say anything. He was the image of readiness. He stood to Semeion’s right, directly opposite Charis.

Brandt waited until everyone else was prepared before stepping into a position mirroring Ophee. He was also fifteen feet from Semeion; but unlike Ophee, Brandt was behind him and to his left. He stood between Charis and Rhema, and he concentrated for just a moment to make sure that his magical spells were each still in place.

Semeion swallowed hard and turned his head to look in Brandt’s direction. He saw the priest of Reah standing with his eyes closed, concentration on the magic he had laid down in preparation. He didn’t realize that Brandt was counting the seconds.

At precisely noon, Brandt opened his eyes and stared directly into Semeion’s eyes. “Now, Semeion. Speak the name now!”

Semeion’s heart stopped as if time stood still. At this very moment he could hear the anticipatory inhalations of the companions around him. He could hear the leather of Ischarus’ glove rubbing against the hilt of his sword just above the pommel. He swore for an instant he could even hear Charis’ heart beat in her chest. “Whetting One.” His voice was strong and confident.

Time stood still for several seconds as all the eyes of the party darted around the inside of the barn toward the far end. Semeion and Brandt focused hard on their magic and tried to pick up any indication of a presence coming to them. Nobody noticed Ophee lift her hand and point it towards Semeion.

Ophee spoke with an emotionless, flat tone in her voice. “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath”

Semeion erupted in fire before he could react. The fire quickly moved to engulf the entire party, including Ophee. The flames easily engulfed the foursome and Brandt but it could not approach Ophee’s position. The flames desperately tried to consume her, but a magical sphere around her prevented the flames from approaching.

Semeion turned and looked towards Ophee as his body fell to the ground. He noticed that her eyes had a look identical to that of Darkbringer when the Phoenix command had been given to her. As his body crashed to the ground, he remembered Darkbringer’s strange flat tone after being given the Phoenix command. His eyes closed against the oppressive heat as his mind finally put together what had happened. The intense flames licked at his skin, immediately blackening the flesh.

Neither Ischarus nor Charis were able to prepare themselves against the blow of Ophee’s spell. They had been so anticipating the coming of the Whetting One that they had never suspected that the Whetting One was already within their ranks. Their backs had been to Ophee as she cast the spell stored in the ring. The concussive blast from the flaming ball of hatred knocked them off of their feet. Charis crashed into the left wall of the barn and flames from her cloak smoldered before catching the dry wood of the side of the barn on fire. 

Ischarus was also blown away from Semeion. Flames magically honed in on his position and arced away from Semeion in a thirsty lust filled race to consume his flesh. His clothing burned with intense rage and the iron of his sword glowed with a dull red. His skin along the palm of his hand that held the hilt of his sword burned so quickly that it fused into the melted leather of the glove and the cushioned hilt. The force of the blast had knocked Ischarus unconscious and in an act of grace felt none of the scorching effects of the flame.

Rhema was also knocked away from Semeion by the blast. Her soft brown hair singed and melted against the oppressive heat. The power that she held in her mind vanished in the face of the intense burning pain. As her burning body flew backwards through the air, small embers fell from her cloak and started the surrounding grass on fire. Only a matter of seconds passed by until the dry and neglected field around the barn was in danger of ignition.

Brandt himself was unprepared for the seemingly friendly fire assault. Although he was highly skill in magic, his mind was too distracted with his other spells to focus on weaving his body around the flames. He was blown into the northeast corner of the barn, and like the others his clothes smoldered and caught flame under the intense heat. His hair also began to singe and melt as he lay upon the floor in the corner of the barn. Mentally he cursed himself for failing to raise a person barrier like the one that protected Ophee. It was in his power to have done so; it was an oversight.

Ophee stood in her bubble of protection until the flames decreased to a manageable level. Her face remained vacant in expression as she looked around the barn. A slight smile of pleasure crossed her face as she realized that Rhema had been ejected from the barn completely. She brought her hands together and joined her fingers, flexing them away from her body. Several of her knuckles popped as if celebrating the easy victory. “Fools. They didn’t even see it coming.”

Ophee chuckled unenthusiastically as her eyes caught Charis through the flames. It would only be a minute or two before the walls of the barn had burned enough to weaken them. The roof would begin to collapse, ensuring that they would all die. The smile vanished from her face as she focused on Charis. “Actually, they did see it coming. They saw it coming in perfect clarity and could do nothing to stop the power of my master. The pathetic fire protection was nothing to my master’s spell.”

As Brandt’s mind wracked with pain, he found himself focusing on a series of magical words. His lips were dry and cracked, and moving them brought searing blood to the surface and through the thin dry skin. He whispered, more out of minimizing the pain than alerting Ophee to his presence. “Ragnoll Diast Nuan” He could see the protective barrier magically form around him.

Ophee didn’t turn in his direction. She hadn’t noticed that he was still alive. He lifted himself slowly up onto an elbow. He managed to bring his knees under him and rise to a kneeling position. He thought about challenging Ophee but decided against it. She had given them no warning of impending danger and he would repay the sentiment. “Thin Diast poisse Fashiir.”

Coldness shot forth from his hand and quenched the fire burning between Brandt and Ophee. Unlike the flames, Brandt’s attack of frozen air held no respect for the magical barrier that had kept out the flames. Ophee was hit by the attack from behind and was pushed into the wall of the barn. Her skin instantly turned blue as her lungs burned against breathing in the arctic air. With little grace she dropped to the floor of the barn.

Icicles had formed above her body, and the heat of the fire began to melt the icicles as soon as the effect of Brandt’s spell ceased. Brandt slowly stood to his feet and tried to lick his lips. He had no saliva left, but the moisture from his own blood soothed his burned skin enough that he could speak. “When you knock a wizard to the ground, Ophee, make sure they never get back up. When you knock a priest of Reah to the ground, be doubly sure. Justice will find you, and often following the quickest path!

Brandt couldn’t bring himself to feel smug, however. Too much had been lost. Nobody was left moving in the barn except him. Ophee had been frozen and her skin showed signs of deep frostbite. Ischarus, Charis, and Semeion had been burned almost beyond recognition. There was no sign of Rhema among the now burning grasses. Only the shouts and cries of Iasho told him that anyone had survived beside himself.
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## Nonlethal Force (May 11, 2007)

*Chapter Eight: ARUM DRACUNCULUS*

Rhema’s eyes opened with a start.  The brightness of space around her made her squint until only the smallest amount of light was being allowed in.  Her vision was incredibly narrow, but after a few second she saw fuzzy movement above her.  She allowed her eyelids to part slightly and she was able to make out the face of a woman with blonde hair.  The woman was dressed in white robes and had the hood of her cloak lifted above her head.

Gradually, Rhema became aware of her surroundings as well as the fact that she was lying upon her back.  “Am I dead?”

The woman standing above her smiled compassionately.  “Yes.  But don’t worry about it.”

Rhema could her snickering from across the room.  The snickering sounded familiar, but her mind wasn’t making connections as quickly as she was accustomed.  “What’s so funny?”

The voice that she thought she had recognized spoke to her in a quick reply while the white-robed woman applied an annoying pressure to the side of Rhema’s neck.  “What a stupid question to ask.  ‘Am I dead?’  Don’t you think if you were really dead that you’d know you were dead?”

Rhema’s head throbbed.  At first she thought it was from the pressure being applied to her neck, but eventually her mind realized that the pain was from trying to think too hard about the logic from the familiar voice.  “I’m not dead?”  Rhema’s words were slow in coming and slurred together.

The woman standing above her smiled broadly and the familiar voice laughed even harder.  This time, the familiar laugh was joined by another familiar chuckle.  This new chuckle was feminine in pitch.  Eventually the familiar voice spoke to her again.  “Rhema, this is Ischarus talking to you.  Remember me, your husband?”

Rhema’s head throbbed some more as she recalled her husband’s face to her mind.  “Ischarus?  Then you’re alive, too?  But, if I’m alive, why would this woman lie to me?”

The woman brought a single finger up to her lips as if to indicate that she needed to be quiet.  Ischarus answered Rhema’s questioning.  “How else are bedridden people supposed to have fun if they aren’t allowed to poke fun at the person waking up from a deep slumber?”

The other familiar voice spoke next, forcing Rhema to obey the blonde woman’s suggestion about staying quiet.  “Rhema, do you remember me?  I am Charis, and I stood up for you at your wedding as you stood up for me.”

Rhema smiled, but Charis didn’t let her speak.  “We were almost killed, Rhema.  But if it makes you feel any better, each of us asked if we were dead upon waking up.  It seems to be such a natural question and all.  No doubt the brightness of the room blinded you from having your eyes shut for so long.  The intensity of the brightness does bring to mind the question of the afterlife.”

Rhema closed her eyes as if to agree with Charis’ conclusion.  Ischarus took over telling this part of the story.  “It seems like Ophee got the best of us.  I don’t remember any of the details, but the acolytes that have been taking care of us tell me that they found us burned pretty badly.  In fact, they even found Master Brandt burned pretty badly.  Apparently Ophee got off a spell and none of us saw it coming.  It was a whopper of a spell, and the acolytes tell me that it was far beyond her ability to cast.  It is likely that she was sent in with the spell in hand.”

Rhema’s eyelids clinched even more tightly.  She drove the pain out of her mind by a sheer force of willpower.  “The wizard in Eberdeen?”  After speaking, Rhema was immediately shushed by the blonde woman.  With her eyes closed Rhema couldn’t see the acolyte, but the woman continued to stand over her and perform a visual examination.

Charis responded to Rhema’s inquiry.  “As far as we can figure and as far as the acolytes tell us, you’re right.  This all seems to have something to do with the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Ischarus continued to tell the story.  “So, it seems like we were set-up and double-crossed.  It cannot be any sort of coincidence that when we were looking for Bloodseeker we found Ophee.  Then, when we were looking for the Whetting One we found Ophee again.  I think we’ve been set-up the whole time by our friend the wizard.”

Charis could tell that Rhema was struggling with not speaking, so she tried to assume the answers to the questions that Charis was trying hard to not ask.  “We don’t know why, if that’s what you are askingin your mind.  It doesn’t make any sense.  Why would the wizard draw us to himself and then try to destroy us after we were free from his presence?  If he wanted us dead, why wait until after we had left and returned home?  And what does this all have to do with the villa?  It just doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Rhema shook her head slowly.  Pain shot through her neck, but it was not the pain of injury.  Her muscles were stiff from having rested in the same position without movement for so long.  “Semeion?”

Ischarus chuckled.  “See, Charis?  I told you there would be nothing wrong with her mind.”

Charis smiled, but Rhema could not see the expression with her eyes closed.  Instead, Rhema could hear the pain in Chrris’ voice in spite of the smile.  “He’s yet to wake, Rhema.  The acolytes were the most worried about you two.  Ischarus and I were badly injured but still alive when they found us.  They refuse to comment on the condition that they found the two of you in.”

Ischarus wasn’t about to let Rhema speak before trying to answer her questions.  “We just needed some healing, Rhema.  We were unconscious and near death.  They healed us, and our bodies slept for just over a day.  The acolytes say that we slept for so long because our bodies needed to relieve themselves from the stress and shock of the fire and of the healing.  Each of our bodies was badly burned.  They say that they found my hand fused to the hilt of my sword – and I was one of the least burned.”

Charis continued the story.  “The burns of our flesh were easily enough handled by the magic of this temple, though.  Our skin could be repaired.  It was the emotional and psychological shock to our system that was traumatic.  Our minds shut themselves off to keep out the pain and assume the state of death.  But rather than die, Ischarus and I were restored.  Our minds had to cope with the suddenness of the healing as well.  The shock to the body takes time to wear off.”

Rhema spoke quickly, not knowing if the acolyte was going to shush her once more.  “How long?”

Ischarus motioned to Charis that he would field this question.  “How long have you been unconscious?  You’ve been resting motionless for the better part of a week.  Charis and I were unconscious for a little of it.  But you’ve been motionless in that bed for four whole days since Charis and I came to.  With any luck,” Ischarus reached a hand out from the side of his bed and embraced Charis’ hand, “Semeion will wake up shortly.  Your waking up with your memory intact for the most part is a good sign.”

Charis squeezed Ischarus’ hand in appreciation of the support.  “He’ll make it.  The healing magic of this place is strong.  I’m just surprised we haven’t seen Brandt.”

The acolyte had moved away from Charis for some time, but now she chose to enter into the conversation.  “Master Brandt was wounded much like you two.  He had to expend a considerable amount of himself to deal with the effects of the flames.  Fortunately we were monitoring your situation from the temple in safety.  When we became aware of your sudden and dramatic injuries, we came quickly.  By the time we got there, Master Brandt was unconscious.  Since then, he has been recovering in a separate room.  Unlike you all, he does not listen to our orders.  He has not listened to our claims for bed rest.  The body can be healed easily enough through our magic, but the muscles and nerves need time to adjust and heal.”

Charis looked over to her husband as he lay silently and motionless on the bed.  “Aren’t all wizards stubborn to the core?  I thought that was the very definition of what it meant to cast arcane powers.”

The acolyte smiled.  “Don’t let my master know that I agree with you.”

Ischarus laughed once more.  “Yes, and one day you’ll be just another stubborn wizard in Reah’s service.  You know it, so don’t deny it.  When you wield that kind of power, you won’t be able to help calling the shots.”

The acolyte smiled and chose not to reply to Ischarus’ assertion.  Instead, she moved across the room and began to do a visual inspection of Semeion.  She also decided that it was time to change the subject.  “I believe that the two of you should be able to be removed from bed rest in another day.  Now that Rhema is awake and seemingly healthy, she’ll have about five days bed rest to make up before she’ll be cleared.  The same will be true for this one.”  The acolyte looked over towards Charis and smiled before finishing her though.  “When his mind has finally decided to wake up and put the strain of his healing behind him.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema’s eyes opened with a start. The brightness of space around her made her squint until only the smallest amount of light was being allowed in. Her vision was incredibly narrow, but after a few second she saw fuzzy movement above her. She allowed her eyelids to part slightly and she was able to make out the face of a woman with blonde hair. The woman was dressed in white robes and had the hood of her cloak lifted above her head.

Gradually, Rhema became aware of her surroundings as well as the fact that she was lying upon her back. “Am I dead?”

The woman standing above her smiled compassionately. “Yes. But don’t worry about it.”

Rhema could her snickering from across the room. The snickering sounded familiar, but her mind wasn’t making connections as quickly as she was accustomed. “What’s so funny?”

The voice that she thought she had recognized spoke to her in a quick reply while the white-robed woman applied an annoying pressure to the side of Rhema’s neck. “What a stupid question to ask. ‘Am I dead?’ Don’t you think if you were really dead that you’d know you were dead?”

Rhema’s head throbbed. At first she thought it was from the pressure being applied to her neck, but eventually her mind realized that the pain was from trying to think too hard about the logic from the familiar voice. “I’m not dead?” Rhema’s words were slow in coming and slurred together.

The woman standing above her smiled broadly and the familiar voice laughed even harder. This time, the familiar laugh was joined by another familiar chuckle. This new chuckle was feminine in pitch. Eventually the familiar voice spoke to her again. “Rhema, this is Ischarus talking to you. Remember me, your husband?”

Rhema’s head throbbed some more as she recalled her husband’s face to her mind. “Ischarus? Then you’re alive, too? But, if I’m alive, why would this woman lie to me?”

The woman brought a single finger up to her lips as if to indicate that she needed to be quiet. Ischarus answered Rhema’s questioning. “How else are bedridden people supposed to have fun if they aren’t allowed to poke fun at the person waking up from a deep slumber?”

The other familiar voice spoke next, forcing Rhema to obey the blonde woman’s suggestion about staying quiet. “Rhema, do you remember me? I am Charis, and I stood up for you at your wedding as you stood up for me.”

Rhema smiled, but Charis didn’t let her speak. “We were almost killed, Rhema. But if it makes you feel any better, each of us asked if we were dead upon waking up. It seems to be such a natural question and all. No doubt the brightness of the room blinded you from having your eyes shut for so long. The intensity of the brightness does bring to mind the question of the afterlife.”

Rhema closed her eyes as if to agree with Charis’ conclusion. Ischarus took over telling this part of the story. “It seems like Ophee got the best of us. I don’t remember any of the details, but the acolytes that have been taking care of us tell me that they found us burned pretty badly. In fact, they even found Master Brandt burned pretty badly. Apparently Ophee got off a spell and none of us saw it coming. It was a whopper of a spell, and the acolytes tell me that it was far beyond her ability to cast. It is likely that she was sent in with the spell in hand.”

Rhema’s eyelids clinched even more tightly. She drove the pain out of her mind by a sheer force of willpower. “The wizard in Eberdeen?” After speaking, Rhema was immediately shushed by the blonde woman. With her eyes closed Rhema couldn’t see the acolyte, but the woman continued to stand over her and perform a visual examination.

Charis responded to Rhema’s inquiry. “As far as we can figure and as far as the acolytes tell us, you’re right. This all seems to have something to do with the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Ischarus continued to tell the story. “So, it seems like we were set-up and double-crossed. It cannot be any sort of coincidence that when we were looking for Bloodseeker we found Ophee. Then, when we were looking for the Whetting One we found Ophee again. I think we’ve been set-up the whole time by our friend the wizard.”

Charis could tell that Rhema was struggling with not speaking, so she tried to assume the answers to the questions that Charis was trying hard to not ask. “We don’t know why, if that’s what you are askingin your mind. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would the wizard draw us to himself and then try to destroy us after we were free from his presence? If he wanted us dead, why wait until after we had left and returned home? And what does this all have to do with the villa? It just doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Rhema shook her head slowly. Pain shot through her neck, but it was not the pain of injury. Her muscles were stiff from having rested in the same position without movement for so long. “Semeion?”

Ischarus chuckled. “See, Charis? I told you there would be nothing wrong with her mind.”

Charis smiled, but Rhema could not see the expression with her eyes closed. Instead, Rhema could hear the pain in Chrris’ voice in spite of the smile. “He’s yet to wake, Rhema. The acolytes were the most worried about you two. Ischarus and I were badly injured but still alive when they found us. They refuse to comment on the condition that they found the two of you in.”

Ischarus wasn’t about to let Rhema speak before trying to answer her questions. “We just needed some healing, Rhema. We were unconscious and near death. They healed us, and our bodies slept for just over a day. The acolytes say that we slept for so long because our bodies needed to relieve themselves from the stress and shock of the fire and of the healing. Each of our bodies was badly burned. They say that they found my hand fused to the hilt of my sword – and I was one of the least burned.”

Charis continued the story. “The burns of our flesh were easily enough handled by the magic of this temple, though. Our skin could be repaired. It was the emotional and psychological shock to our system that was traumatic. Our minds shut themselves off to keep out the pain and assume the state of death. But rather than die, Ischarus and I were restored. Our minds had to cope with the suddenness of the healing as well. The shock to the body takes time to wear off.”

Rhema spoke quickly, not knowing if the acolyte was going to shush her once more. “How long?”

Ischarus motioned to Charis that he would field this question. “How long have you been unconscious? You’ve been resting motionless for the better part of a week. Charis and I were unconscious for a little of it. But you’ve been motionless in that bed for four whole days since Charis and I came to. With any luck,” Ischarus reached a hand out from the side of his bed and embraced Charis’ hand, “Semeion will wake up shortly. Your waking up with your memory intact for the most part is a good sign.”

Charis squeezed Ischarus’ hand in appreciation of the support. “He’ll make it. The healing magic of this place is strong. I’m just surprised we haven’t seen Brandt.”

The acolyte had moved away from Charis for some time, but now she chose to enter into the conversation. “Master Brandt was wounded much like you two. He had to expend a considerable amount of himself to deal with the effects of the flames. Fortunately we were monitoring your situation from the temple in safety. When we became aware of your sudden and dramatic injuries, we came quickly. By the time we got there, Master Brandt was unconscious. Since then, he has been recovering in a separate room. Unlike you all, he does not listen to our orders. He has not listened to our claims for bed rest. The body can be healed easily enough through our magic, but the muscles and nerves need time to adjust and heal.”

Charis looked over to her husband as he lay silently and motionless on the bed. “Aren’t all wizards stubborn to the core? I thought that was the very definition of what it meant to cast arcane powers.”

The acolyte smiled. “Don’t let my master know that I agree with you.”

Ischarus laughed once more. “Yes, and one day you’ll be just another stubborn wizard in Reah’s service. You know it, so don’t deny it. When you wield that kind of power, you won’t be able to help calling the shots.”

The acolyte smiled and chose not to reply to Ischarus’ assertion. Instead, she moved across the room and began to do a visual inspection of Semeion. She also decided that it was time to change the subject. “I believe that the two of you should be able to be removed from bed rest in another day. Now that Rhema is awake and seemingly healthy, she’ll have about five days bed rest to make up before she’ll be cleared. The same will be true for this one.” The acolyte looked over towards Charis and smiled before finishing her though. “When his mind has finally decided to wake up and put the strain of his healing behind him.”
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## Nonlethal Force (May 13, 2007)

It was another day before Semeion woke up from his magical rest.  Once Semeion regained consciousness and it was determined that there wasn’t anything lasting that was wrong with him, the acolytes underneath Brandt’s authority explained that the sleep which the party had been put under was a magical one.  Ischarus’ and Charis wounds were not as life threatening as Rhema’s and Semeion’s wounds and thus they didn’t have a great need to be kept asleep for as long a period of time.  Rhema’s and Semeion’s wounds were described as being life threatening, and thus they were kept in a magical slumber for a longer period of time.  The magical sleep allowed their bodies to remain still and not risk further injury from the typical movements of normal sleep.  Furthermore, the first few days after magical healing were usually the most painful, and by keeping the injured asleep for the days of the most pain they were actually spared some agony.

Charis and Ischarus remained in the recovery room during the remaining days of Semeion’s and Rhema’s bed rest.  There was little else that could be done anyway.  In no uncertain terms could a portion of the foursome dream of challenging whatever the true force was that had given Ophee her power.  In fact, they weren’t even sure that the foursome could challenge Ophee even if they were all together.  She hadn’t seemed quite so powerful on the way to Eberdeen, and she certainly didn’t appear to have that kind of power when they were traveling through Quehalost.  Something had happened to her since they returned.

Brandt returned to the party on Semeion’s last day of bed rest.  The master of the acolytes came into the room still using a wooden staff as a sort of cane.  His injuries had been healed and his skin no longer appeared to have once been badly singed and cracked.  However, his age slowed his body’s ability to recover from the stress of the injuries and the stress of the rapid magical healing.  Even Semeion, the last of the party to wake from the magical slumber, was now further along in his recovery than Brandt.  Of course, the fact that Brandt refused to accept the orders of bed rest may have delayed his recovery as well.

Brandt didn’t pause for pleasantries as he entered into the room.  “We’ve discovered something interesting in our examination of Ophee.”

Ischarus looked back to Brandt with a bit of surprise.  “Ophee is here?”  He stood up quickly and reached for the hilt of his sword.  “We were made to believe that she had escaped.  Why were we not told about the truth?”

Brandt chuckled as he watched Ischarus’ reaction to the news. “Because we knew how you would react.  The truth is, we’ve been surprised by what we’ve found.”

Ischarus wasn’t convinced.  He drew his sword and inch out of the scabbard and then pushed it back in the whole way.  The leather on the hilt of his sword would need to be replaced, but the blade itself was still quite functional.

Charis ignored Ischarus’ swordplay and turned back to Brandt.  “What have you found?  Can you confirm that there is more to Ophee than what we originally thought?”

Brandt smiled, and the expression on his face told the party that there was more truth in Charis’ question than she knew.  “Actually, less.”

Rhema and Charis exchanged confused glances before Charis replied.  “Less, Brandt?  That’s rather cryptic.  Just what do you mean by that?”

Brandt’s smiled opened into a full faced grin.  “When she woke up, she didn’t remember a thing past a certain point.  She remembered all the time that we spent casting spells in preparation.  She could describe the layout and planning of the party to intricate detail.  She was able to describe the inside of the barn and even the plans for escape if they had been needed.  But the last thing that she remembers is me telling you that it was noon.  According to her mind, she woke up here at the temple immediately after I told Semeion to speak.”

Semeion looked displeased.  “And this isn’t some kind of ploy?”

Brandt chuckled again.  “Actually, Ophee has been quite helpful in doing our evaluation.  Since she doesn’t remember anything from a few seconds before the command of the Whetting One was given, she still sees herself as our ally.  We’ve given her little reason to think that we consider her anything less.”

Semeion continued to look displeased as Brandt spoke.  “You mean to tell me that you aren’t treating her as a hostile captive?  She tried to kill you, Brandt!  She wanted you dead!”

Charis shook her head and countered her husband’s protective assertion.  “Either that, or have you not told her about the role that she has played?  If she doesn’t remember, have you kept the truth from her?”

Brandt put out his hands in a reassuring gesture.  “We have done nothing of the sort.  We couldn’t very well bring all of us back without bringing her back as well.  When we got her back here, we discovered that she wasn’t dead.  So, we began to treat her wounds.  We were honor bound to help and try to save her life.  Once she was healed, we treated her as a captive in spite of the fact that she bitterly complained about not having done anything to deserve her captivity.  Eventually we discovered that her claims about not understanding why she was imprisoned had some merit.  We examined her both with and without magic, and we discovered that she lacked the memories of the fight.  Since then, we have loosened security around her, although we still keep her under watch.  And she does know what happened, although she continues to have no recollection of those events.”

Semeion’s eyes drifted to a position that told Brandt he was deep in thought.  Rhema didn’t see Semeion’s expression and she asked continued the conversation.  “Is it possible to see her, Brandt?”

Brandt lifted up a finger to Rhema in order to indicate that he was waiting for something.  He turned back to Semeion and waited for him to complete his thought.  “Semeion, what are you thinking about?”

Semeion shook his head slowly, as if he were trying to shake the memories free.  “Now that I think about it, Ophee did change when the Whetting One command was given.  Just out of curiosity, have you tried the command again with her?”

Brandt nodded.  “We did, and there was no effect.”

Semeion smiled as if a secret had just been unlocked in his mind.  “Just like Darkbringer.  In fact, this is almost exactly like Darkbringer.”  Excitement poured into his tone, and it was clear he was no longer interested in making sure that Ophee was treated like the enemy.

Ischarus replied to Semeion.  “Darkbringer?  You mean the way that she gave you the information?”

Semeion nodded vigorously and pointed to Ischarus.  “Exactly!  Remember how I said that during my interrogation with Darkbringer she seemed to give me the impression that she didn’t realize she was doing it?”

The party nodded as they remembered.  Semeion continued to speak.  “Well, it would make sense that two people involved in the same plot would react the same way.  Think about it.  The wizard in Eberdeen led us back to Darkbringer, who reacted strangely when we used the Phoenix command.  Darkbringer gave us another command, and this command for the Whetting One gave us a similar strange reaction out of Ophee.  It makes sense.”

Brandt was following Semeion’s line of reasoning.  “It sounds almost like there is some kind of mind control going on.  In fact, it sounds like some kind of suggestion.  It is as if people are being brainwashed or hypnotized to perform a certain set of actions upon receiving a code word.”

Rhema shook her head from side to side.  “Wait a minute.  If Ophee was the Whetting One, and it seems like she was, then was there a deeper meaning as to why we had to wait three days before speaking the name?  Think about it.  If the name ‘Whetting One’ was the command word, then we were completely wrong in our assessment of why we couldn’t say it?  It wasn’t that the command would be countered at all.  It was because this way the creator of the command could guarantee that the effect would go off as planned.  Ophee wasn’t with us when we first heard about the name.  In fact, Ophee didn’t come to us until after we had put the command into effect by the statue.”

Brandt concurred.  “Of course she didn’t.  If what you all are saying is true, then my guess is that the arcane sensor that we saw at the statue belonged to whoever it was that was putting the command into Ophee’s mind.  Our speaking the name by the statue wasn’t to call the Whetting One; it was the originator’s way of seeing that we agreed to not speak the name again until the third day.”

Charis continued the thought.  “And, by making sure that we didn’t speak the name until the appropriate time the wizard in Eberdeen knew that the Whetting One command wouldn’t draw suspicion.  If we had spoken the word to Ophee and happened to be here in Fingerdale, innocent people would’ve been hurt and there would have been an investigation.  But, a dilapidated old barn catching fire in the middle of a dry abandoned field wouldn’t have even drawn attention, much less suspicion.  We helped to set our own trap, you know?”

Brandt nodded, and Ischarus was quick to correct Charis.  “We don’t know for certain that it was the wizard in Eberdeen, though.”

As if on cue, a firm knock sounded at the door.  Brandt motioned for one of his acolytes to open it.  Another temple acolyte stepped through the door and bowed humbly before Brandt.

Brandt bowed lightly and spoke to the acolyte.  “Theirin, do you have news about the means of mind control over Ophee?”

Theirin returned to an upright position.  “Master Brandt, does the plant known as Arum Dracunculus mean anything to you?”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It was another day before Semeion woke up from his magical rest. Once Semeion regained consciousness and it was determined that there wasn’t anything lasting that was wrong with him, the acolytes underneath Brandt’s authority explained that the sleep which the party had been put under was a magical one. Ischarus’ and Charis wounds were not as life threatening as Rhema’s and Semeion’s wounds and thus they didn’t have a great need to be kept asleep for as long a period of time. Rhema’s and Semeion’s wounds were described as being life threatening, and thus they were kept in a magical slumber for a longer period of time. The magical sleep allowed their bodies to remain still and not risk further injury from the typical movements of normal sleep. Furthermore, the first few days after magical healing were usually the most painful, and by keeping the injured asleep for the days of the most pain they were actually spared some agony.

Charis and Ischarus remained in the recovery room during the remaining days of Semeion’s and Rhema’s bed rest. There was little else that could be done anyway. In no uncertain terms could a portion of the foursome dream of challenging whatever the true force was that had given Ophee her power. In fact, they weren’t even sure that the foursome could challenge Ophee even if they were all together. She hadn’t seemed quite so powerful on the way to Eberdeen, and she certainly didn’t appear to have that kind of power when they were traveling through Quehalost. Something had happened to her since they returned.

Brandt returned to the party on Semeion’s last day of bed rest. The master of the acolytes came into the room still using a wooden staff as a sort of cane. His injuries had been healed and his skin no longer appeared to have once been badly singed and cracked. However, his age slowed his body’s ability to recover from the stress of the injuries and the stress of the rapid magical healing. Even Semeion, the last of the party to wake from the magical slumber, was now further along in his recovery than Brandt. Of course, the fact that Brandt refused to accept the orders of bed rest may have delayed his recovery as well.

Brandt didn’t pause for pleasantries as he entered into the room. “We’ve discovered something interesting in our examination of Ophee.”

Ischarus looked back to Brandt with a bit of surprise. “Ophee is here?” He stood up quickly and reached for the hilt of his sword. “We were made to believe that she had escaped. Why were we not told about the truth?”

Brandt chuckled as he watched Ischarus’ reaction to the news. “Because we knew how you would react. The truth is, we’ve been surprised by what we’ve found.”

Ischarus wasn’t convinced. He drew his sword and inch out of the scabbard and then pushed it back in the whole way. The leather on the hilt of his sword would need to be replaced, but the blade itself was still quite functional.

Charis ignored Ischarus’ swordplay and turned back to Brandt. “What have you found? Can you confirm that there is more to Ophee than what we originally thought?”

Brandt smiled, and the expression on his face told the party that there was more truth in Charis’ question than she knew. “Actually, less.”

Rhema and Charis exchanged confused glances before Charis replied. “Less, Brandt? That’s rather cryptic. Just what do you mean by that?”

Brandt’s smiled opened into a full faced grin. “When she woke up, she didn’t remember a thing past a certain point. She remembered all the time that we spent casting spells in preparation. She could describe the layout and planning of the party to intricate detail. She was able to describe the inside of the barn and even the plans for escape if they had been needed. But the last thing that she remembers is me telling you that it was noon. According to her mind, she woke up here at the temple immediately after I told Semeion to speak.”

Semeion looked displeased. “And this isn’t some kind of ploy?”

Brandt chuckled again. “Actually, Ophee has been quite helpful in doing our evaluation. Since she doesn’t remember anything from a few seconds before the command of the Whetting One was given, she still sees herself as our ally. We’ve given her little reason to think that we consider her anything less.”

Semeion continued to look displeased as Brandt spoke. “You mean to tell me that you aren’t treating her as a hostile captive? She tried to kill you, Brandt! She wanted you dead!”

Charis shook her head and countered her husband’s protective assertion. “Either that, or have you not told her about the role that she has played? If she doesn’t remember, have you kept the truth from her?”

Brandt put out his hands in a reassuring gesture. “We have done nothing of the sort. We couldn’t very well bring all of us back without bringing her back as well. When we got her back here, we discovered that she wasn’t dead. So, we began to treat her wounds. We were honor bound to help and try to save her life. Once she was healed, we treated her as a captive in spite of the fact that she bitterly complained about not having done anything to deserve her captivity. Eventually we discovered that her claims about not understanding why she was imprisoned had some merit. We examined her both with and without magic, and we discovered that she lacked the memories of the fight. Since then, we have loosened security around her, although we still keep her under watch. And she does know what happened, although she continues to have no recollection of those events.”

Semeion’s eyes drifted to a position that told Brandt he was deep in thought. Rhema didn’t see Semeion’s expression and she asked continued the conversation. “Is it possible to see her, Brandt?”

Brandt lifted up a finger to Rhema in order to indicate that he was waiting for something. He turned back to Semeion and waited for him to complete his thought. “Semeion, what are you thinking about?”

Semeion shook his head slowly, as if he were trying to shake the memories free. “Now that I think about it, Ophee did change when the Whetting One command was given. Just out of curiosity, have you tried the command again with her?”

Brandt nodded. “We did, and there was no effect.”

Semeion smiled as if a secret had just been unlocked in his mind. “Just like Darkbringer. In fact, this is almost exactly like Darkbringer.” Excitement poured into his tone, and it was clear he was no longer interested in making sure that Ophee was treated like the enemy.

Ischarus replied to Semeion. “Darkbringer? You mean the way that she gave you the information?”

Semeion nodded vigorously and pointed to Ischarus. “Exactly! Remember how I said that during my interrogation with Darkbringer she seemed to give me the impression that she didn’t realize she was doing it?”

The party nodded as they remembered. Semeion continued to speak. “Well, it would make sense that two people involved in the same plot would react the same way. Think about it. The wizard in Eberdeen led us back to Darkbringer, who reacted strangely when we used the Phoenix command. Darkbringer gave us another command, and this command for the Whetting One gave us a similar strange reaction out of Ophee. It makes sense.”

Brandt was following Semeion’s line of reasoning. “It sounds almost like there is some kind of mind control going on. In fact, it sounds like some kind of suggestion. It is as if people are being brainwashed or hypnotized to perform a certain set of actions upon receiving a code word.”

Rhema shook her head from side to side. “Wait a minute. If Ophee was the Whetting One, and it seems like she was, then was there a deeper meaning as to why we had to wait three days before speaking the name? Think about it. If the name ‘Whetting One’ was the command word, then we were completely wrong in our assessment of why we couldn’t say it? It wasn’t that the command would be countered at all. It was because this way the creator of the command could guarantee that the effect would go off as planned. Ophee wasn’t with us when we first heard about the name. In fact, Ophee didn’t come to us until after we had put the command into effect by the statue.”

Brandt concurred. “Of course she didn’t. If what you all are saying is true, then my guess is that the arcane sensor that we saw at the statue belonged to whoever it was that was putting the command into Ophee’s mind. Our speaking the name by the statue wasn’t to call the Whetting One; it was the originator’s way of seeing that we agreed to not speak the name again until the third day.”

Charis continued the thought. “And, by making sure that we didn’t speak the name until the appropriate time the wizard in Eberdeen knew that the Whetting One command wouldn’t draw suspicion. If we had spoken the word to Ophee and happened to be here in Fingerdale, innocent people would’ve been hurt and there would have been an investigation. But, a dilapidated old barn catching fire in the middle of a dry abandoned field wouldn’t have even drawn attention, much less suspicion. We helped to set our own trap, you know?”

Brandt nodded, and Ischarus was quick to correct Charis. “We don’t know for certain that it was the wizard in Eberdeen, though.”

As if on cue, a firm knock sounded at the door. Brandt motioned for one of his acolytes to open it. Another temple acolyte stepped through the door and bowed humbly before Brandt.

Brandt bowed lightly and spoke to the acolyte. “Theirin, do you have news about the means of mind control over Ophee?”

Theirin returned to an upright position. “Master Brandt, does the plant known as Arum Dracunculus mean anything to you?”
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (May 14, 2007)

Ischarus breathed in quickly at the recognition of the name.  “You know what?  Forget what I said earlier.  I think we can now safely concur that the wizard in Eberdeen is behind this all.”

Brandt offered a confused look back to Ischarus.  “You can determine this simply from hearing Theirin’s introductory statement?  If so, I think there is some piece of information that has not been told to me that I should know.”

Rhema had looked to the floor as Theirin indicated that the Arum Dracunculus was involved.  She continued to look to the floor as she processed her thoughts.  “Arum Dracunculus?  Otherwise known as Black Arum or even Stink Lily?”

Theirin nodded, but only after nodding did he realize that Rhema couldn’t see his gesture.  He looked to Brandt for permission to speak freely about the evidence and Brandt nodded in order to give it to Theirin.  “Yes, milady.  That plant is one and same.  Although among some of the more native communities to the south the plant is also called the Voodoo Lily.”

Semeion’s fist slammed down onto the soft mattress upon which he was laying.  His action drew the eyes of all those in the room.  “Now that would have been information that would have been useful a few weeks ago!”

Ischarus laughed in disgust.  “No doubt, that’s for sure!”

Brandt didn’t appreciate the direction to which this conversation was turning.  “You all seem to have information that I don’t have, and I get the feeling that I’m not going to like finding out what all has happened.  Someone tell me why you know of this plant and I am just now finding out about it.”

Charis breathed in deeply and began the explanation.  “Arum Dracunculus is familiar to us because that is the species of plant that we went to Quehalost to retrieve.  When Ophee led us to the wizard’s college in Eberdeen, we were told that Ophee’s master would be willing to use his magical powers for gathering information to help us make a connection in the Ephistaemi and find out who ordered the destruction of the villa.”

Rhema nodded along as Charis began to tell the story, and when Charis paused to breathe Rhema continued.  “The wizard said that he needed a favor in exchange, and so far I believe that we have informed you of this much.  But what we didn’t inform you about is the name of the plant we were sent into Quehalost to retrieve.  Up until now it didn’t seem to matter.  It was just a plant.  We were sent in to retrieve this Arum Dracunculus.”

The party expected Brandt to look upon them with outrage, or at least to view them with disappointment.  Instead, Brandt allowed a slight smile to cross his face.  “I see.  Well, to be honest, the plant would have meant little to me had someone told me to go and get it for them.  I wouldn’t have known what the plant could be used for.  I might have wanted to go and do a bit of research on the plant before heading out to retrieve it, though.  Of course, I was not in your position.  I can understand your actions.”

Charis cautiously returned Brandt’s smile.  “Then, you are not disappointed in us?”

Brandt’s smile grew slightly.  “Disappointed?  Of course I am.  But what good will it do to berate you all about something that happened many days ago and is already in the past.  I can tell by your expressions that this is a hard lesson to learn and that you have learned it.  I also know that even combined you all do not have my power or life experience.  You have erred, but your mistake was at least logical.  And, since Reah is most interested in justice, I can see no better punishment for each of you than to work to undo your mistake.  I think it is important that we learn what this Arum Dracunculus can do and try to figure out what exactly this wizard plans on doing with it.  Then, you all can help to thwart his plans.  You will have paid for your mistake and the world will have suffered nothing for it.  I can live with those terms.”  He smiled once more in a reassuring manner.

Semeion turned to Theirin.  “Well, sir, if you could tell us a little about this plant of yours, I’d be grateful.  We don’t know much about the plant except for a few of its names.”

Theirin nodded and began his explanation.  “Well, to be honest I didn’t know much about the plant as well, so I stopped by the library before seeking Master Brandt.  I knew that it would do me no good to come with a list of symptoms but no name or description.  As far as other names for the plant, you should also know that in some areas this plant has been called dragonwort and dragon lily.”

Brandt chuckled.  “Well, that certainly makes it interesting.  I wonder why it has so many odd names?”

Theirin replied quickly.  “Well, I believe it has something to do with its unusual appearance.”

Charis looked confused.  “Appearance?  The plant didn’t look like anything that was particularly odd.  In fact, the plants we received looked like a sack of potatoes.  Of course, they were much lighter in weight than potatoes would have been.”

Theirin nodded and smiled.  “Ah, I see.  Then it is my guess that you received what I have since learned is called tubers.  Some plants grow from seed and some plants grown from bulbs.  Apparently some plants also grow from what are called rhizomes.  But this particular plant grows from what is called a tuber.  The tuber is the place where both the stem and the roots connect.  It is the place where nutrients are stored over the winter months so that in the spring the plant can grow and flower in the early summer.”

Rhema concurred.  “Well, what we received were covered in dirt, mostly.  It appears as though they had been dug up and broken off.  They were probably separated from other Arum Dracunculus plants in the druid’s grove.”

Theirin continued to brief the party and Brandt on the plant.  “The plant itself is actually quite interesting in appearance when it grows.  In truth, it is a rather bizarre plant, and our books indicate that at first it appears to be nothing more than a typical calla lily.  However, as the plant grows taller it takes the form of what is called a spathe. The spathe continues to grow until it is several feet tall, at which point it begins to unfurl.  Once the leaf begins to unfurl it reveals a slender center appendage known as the spadix.  This central appendage can be as tall as four and a half feet, although most grow only two or three feet tall.  The plant doesn’t produce flowers that can be seen.  Instead, the plant’s flowers remain hidden deep inside the spathe, which features a bulbous chamber.”

Ischarus smirked as Theirin gave a deeply scientific explanation of the plant.  “Well, I am certainly no botanist, but I would imagine that keeping its flowers inside that central appendage must make it rather difficult for insects to spread the pollen around.  I can’t see a butterfly – or even a bee – being that persistent to actually crawl into a plant to get the pollen.”

Theirin laughed at something unspoken. From the timing of his laugh it was clear that he wasn’t laughing at Ischarus.  “Perhaps you are more of a botanist than you give yourself credit for, Ischarus.  The plant’s pollen isn’t spread by butterflies and bees at all.  The pollen is spread by flies.  As you know, flies are considerably more persistent than your typical butterfly.”

Semeion had been captured by the interesting details of the plant’s description.  “Flies?  That is certainly odd.  But I don’t recall flies being attracted to flowers in general.  Flies are attracted to much less pleasant smells and substances.”

Theirin smiled again at the thought of the information that he was about to share.  “That is an excellent conclusion, sir.  You see, for a period of a few short days just after the plant completely blooms, the Arum Dracunculus emits a putrid smell.  The books indicate that the smell is often as if the plant contained a mixture of dung and rotting meat.  The plant does not give off this smell to eat the flies, but rather because it needs the flies for pollination.”

Semeion nodded as he followed the acolyte’s explanation.  “Well, I can certainly understand why the flies are attracted to the plant, then.  Although, I don’t think that is the kind of plant that I would want growing too closely to my villa.  Can you imagine what the druid’s grove must smell like when the plant begins to bloom?”

Charis wanted to turn the subject away from the descriptions of the plant’s odor.  “What does the plant look like in bloom, though?  You have told us about the stem – what did you call it?  Was it called a spathe?  But what of the colors and what does its big unfurling leaf look like?”

Theirin replied, seeming to enjoy the discussion about the color less than the more unusual aspects of the plant.  “Arum Dracunculus typically produces one giant cup shaped leaf that ranges in color from crimson to scarlet to maroon.  It also does produce small scarlet colored berries that last until frost in the fall or winter.  Personally, I think that its crimson appearance gives it the look of a mouth.”

Rhema added to Theirin’s assertion.  “Well, and if the spadex is also dark red, it could look like a giant tongue.  Maybe that is why it became connected to the name dragon.  Maybe that is where the name dragonwort of dragon lily come from.”

Brandt chuckled at the mental image that Rhema painted with her words.  However, he was more interested in the usefulness of the plant.  “Theirin, you’ve done a good job talking about the plant and even its propagation techniques.  But why should this plant concern us?”

Theirin nodded to Master Brandt.  “Yes, sir.  Given the right base solution, the roots of this plant can be cut to release a type of sap.  This sap can be collected and added to the base solution.  When the right magical words are spoken over the solution the result is a slightly bitter liquid that can be ingested, perhaps by adding it to another food or drink.  Consuming this liquid means that the body has ingested a non-lethal toxin.  The subject’s reflexes and mental capacities are impaired.  They sink into a state where deep hypnosis is possible.  I think this is why it has the name Voodoo Lily.”

Ischarus didn’t need to hear any more.  “At last, it is coming together.  Now we know how the wizard in Eberdeen has been able to accomplish what he did through Darkbringer and Ophee.”

Semeion sat up in his bed slowly.  “Now we just need to know why.  And we need to know why our involvement was necessary.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus breathed in quickly at the recognition of the name. “You know what? Forget what I said earlier. I think we can now safely concur that the wizard in Eberdeen is behind this all.”

Brandt offered a confused look back to Ischarus. “You can determine this simply from hearing Theirin’s introductory statement? If so, I think there is some piece of information that has not been told to me that I should know.”

Rhema had looked to the floor as Theirin indicated that the Arum Dracunculus was involved. She continued to look to the floor as she processed her thoughts. “Arum Dracunculus? Otherwise known as Black Arum or even Stink Lily?”

Theirin nodded, but only after nodding did he realize that Rhema couldn’t see his gesture. He looked to Brandt for permission to speak freely about the evidence and Brandt nodded in order to give it to Theirin. “Yes, milady. That plant is one and same. Although among some of the more native communities to the south the plant is also called the Voodoo Lily.”

Semeion’s fist slammed down onto the soft mattress upon which he was laying. His action drew the eyes of all those in the room. “Now that would have been information that would have been useful a few weeks ago!”

Ischarus laughed in disgust. “No doubt, that’s for sure!”

Brandt didn’t appreciate the direction to which this conversation was turning. “You all seem to have information that I don’t have, and I get the feeling that I’m not going to like finding out what all has happened. Someone tell me why you know of this plant and I am just now finding out about it.”

Charis breathed in deeply and began the explanation. “Arum Dracunculus is familiar to us because that is the species of plant that we went to Quehalost to retrieve. When Ophee led us to the wizard’s college in Eberdeen, we were told that Ophee’s master would be willing to use his magical powers for gathering information to help us make a connection in the Ephistaemi and find out who ordered the destruction of the villa.”

Rhema nodded along as Charis began to tell the story, and when Charis paused to breathe Rhema continued. “The wizard said that he needed a favor in exchange, and so far I believe that we have informed you of this much. But what we didn’t inform you about is the name of the plant we were sent into Quehalost to retrieve. Up until now it didn’t seem to matter. It was just a plant. We were sent in to retrieve this Arum Dracunculus.”

The party expected Brandt to look upon them with outrage, or at least to view them with disappointment. Instead, Brandt allowed a slight smile to cross his face. “I see. Well, to be honest, the plant would have meant little to me had someone told me to go and get it for them. I wouldn’t have known what the plant could be used for. I might have wanted to go and do a bit of research on the plant before heading out to retrieve it, though. Of course, I was not in your position. I can understand your actions.”

Charis cautiously returned Brandt’s smile. “Then, you are not disappointed in us?”

Brandt’s smile grew slightly. “Disappointed? Of course I am. But what good will it do to berate you all about something that happened many days ago and is already in the past. I can tell by your expressions that this is a hard lesson to learn and that you have learned it. I also know that even combined you all do not have my power or life experience. You have erred, but your mistake was at least logical. And, since Reah is most interested in justice, I can see no better punishment for each of you than to work to undo your mistake. I think it is important that we learn what this Arum Dracunculus can do and try to figure out what exactly this wizard plans on doing with it. Then, you all can help to thwart his plans. You will have paid for your mistake and the world will have suffered nothing for it. I can live with those terms.” He smiled once more in a reassuring manner.

Semeion turned to Theirin. “Well, sir, if you could tell us a little about this plant of yours, I’d be grateful. We don’t know much about the plant except for a few of its names.”

Theirin nodded and began his explanation. “Well, to be honest I didn’t know much about the plant as well, so I stopped by the library before seeking Master Brandt. I knew that it would do me no good to come with a list of symptoms but no name or description. As far as other names for the plant, you should also know that in some areas this plant has been called dragonwort and dragon lily.”

Brandt chuckled. “Well, that certainly makes it interesting. I wonder why it has so many odd names?”

Theirin replied quickly. “Well, I believe it has something to do with its unusual appearance.”

Charis looked confused. “Appearance? The plant didn’t look like anything that was particularly odd. In fact, the plants we received looked like a sack of potatoes. Of course, they were much lighter in weight than potatoes would have been.”

Theirin nodded and smiled. “Ah, I see. Then it is my guess that you received what I have since learned is called tubers. Some plants grow from seed and some plants grown from bulbs. Apparently some plants also grow from what are called rhizomes. But this particular plant grows from what is called a tuber. The tuber is the place where both the stem and the roots connect. It is the place where nutrients are stored over the winter months so that in the spring the plant can grow and flower in the early summer.”

Rhema concurred. “Well, what we received were covered in dirt, mostly. It appears as though they had been dug up and broken off. They were probably separated from other Arum Dracunculus plants in the druid’s grove.”

Theirin continued to brief the party and Brandt on the plant. “The plant itself is actually quite interesting in appearance when it grows. In truth, it is a rather bizarre plant, and our books indicate that at first it appears to be nothing more than a typical calla lily. However, as the plant grows taller it takes the form of what is called a spathe. The spathe continues to grow until it is several feet tall, at which point it begins to unfurl. Once the leaf begins to unfurl it reveals a slender center appendage known as the spadix. This central appendage can be as tall as four and a half feet, although most grow only two or three feet tall. The plant doesn’t produce flowers that can be seen. Instead, the plant’s flowers remain hidden deep inside the spathe, which features a bulbous chamber.”

Ischarus smirked as Theirin gave a deeply scientific explanation of the plant. “Well, I am certainly no botanist, but I would imagine that keeping its flowers inside that central appendage must make it rather difficult for insects to spread the pollen around. I can’t see a butterfly – or even a bee – being that persistent to actually crawl into a plant to get the pollen.”

Theirin laughed at something unspoken. From the timing of his laugh it was clear that he wasn’t laughing at Ischarus. “Perhaps you are more of a botanist than you give yourself credit for, Ischarus. The plant’s pollen isn’t spread by butterflies and bees at all. The pollen is spread by flies. As you know, flies are considerably more persistent than your typical butterfly.”

Semeion had been captured by the interesting details of the plant’s description. “Flies? That is certainly odd. But I don’t recall flies being attracted to flowers in general. Flies are attracted to much less pleasant smells and substances.”

Theirin smiled again at the thought of the information that he was about to share. “That is an excellent conclusion, sir. You see, for a period of a few short days just after the plant completely blooms, the Arum Dracunculus emits a putrid smell. The books indicate that the smell is often as if the plant contained a mixture of dung and rotting meat. The plant does not give off this smell to eat the flies, but rather because it needs the flies for pollination.”

Semeion nodded as he followed the acolyte’s explanation. “Well, I can certainly understand why the flies are attracted to the plant, then. Although, I don’t think that is the kind of plant that I would want growing too closely to my villa. Can you imagine what the druid’s grove must smell like when the plant begins to bloom?”

Charis wanted to turn the subject away from the descriptions of the plant’s odor. “What does the plant look like in bloom, though? You have told us about the stem – what did you call it? Was it called a spathe? But what of the colors and what does its big unfurling leaf look like?”

Theirin replied, seeming to enjoy the discussion about the color less than the more unusual aspects of the plant. “Arum Dracunculus typically produces one giant cup shaped leaf that ranges in color from crimson to scarlet to maroon. It also does produce small scarlet colored berries that last until frost in the fall or winter. Personally, I think that its crimson appearance gives it the look of a mouth.”

Rhema added to Theirin’s assertion. “Well, and if the spadex is also dark red, it could look like a giant tongue. Maybe that is why it became connected to the name dragon. Maybe that is where the name dragonwort of dragon lily come from.”

Brandt chuckled at the mental image that Rhema painted with her words. However, he was more interested in the usefulness of the plant. “Theirin, you’ve done a good job talking about the plant and even its propagation techniques. But why should this plant concern us?”

Theirin nodded to Master Brandt. “Yes, sir. Given the right base solution, the roots of this plant can be cut to release a type of sap. This sap can be collected and added to the base solution. When the right magical words are spoken over the solution the result is a slightly bitter liquid that can be ingested, perhaps by adding it to another food or drink. Consuming this liquid means that the body has ingested a non-lethal toxin. The subject’s reflexes and mental capacities are impaired. They sink into a state where deep hypnosis is possible. I think this is why it has the name Voodoo Lily.”

Ischarus didn’t need to hear any more. “At last, it is coming together. Now we know how the wizard in Eberdeen has been able to accomplish what he did through Darkbringer and Ophee.”

Semeion sat up in his bed slowly. “Now we just need to know why. And we need to know why our involvement was necessary.”
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (May 20, 2007)

Brandt nodded with Semeion’s assertion.  “And my guess is that in order to understand why we are going to have to interview Ophee.”

The acolyte who had been largely serving as the party’s nurse smiled at Brandt’s assertion and likewise replied.  “Well, the good news is that she’s in no better shape than you all.  She’s not likely to be very dangerous.”

Charis affirmed the acolyte’s opinion.  “And, if she doesn’t see herself as our enemy, we shouldn’t have too much to worry about.  In the same light, though, we should be careful to make sure that we give her no reason to begin considering us as enemies.  I think it might be wise if we interview her in a manner that lets her do most of the talking.  That way, we’ll be less likely to mess something up with an errant word or two.”

Brandt concurred quickly.  “Agreed.  Besides, the more she talks the less we’ll have to worry about accidentally feeding her information through our questioning.  The greater the ratio of her speech to ours will mean a greater accuracy of response.  Since she knows what happened but lacks the memories of the event, she has been able to keep from seeing us as the enemy.  The facts suggest to her that some force took over her body and she was no longer consciously in control.”

There was little else to be said until the party had gone with Brandt to meet with Ophee.  Just to be on the safe side, the acolyte that had been serving as the party’s nurse went with them.  It was the acolyte’s job to be strong enough to resist Ophee should she suddenly grow aggressive towards the party and Brandt once more.

The door to Ophee’s room opened into a brightly painted room.  It was clear that her room had been designed with healing in mind.  The walls had been dyed a pale yellow, and the effect of the dye was that of enhancing the sunlight as it poured in through the window.

Ophee grinned and stretched out her arms as she sat up in bed.  She was covered from the waist down with a thin blanket.  Her chest and arms were covered with a loose fitting white tunic.  “Friends!  Rhema and Charis, please come in.  It is good to see you alive after what they have told me.  And, Semeion and Ischarus too!  They informed me during my healing process that there were grave injuries, injuries not unlike the injuries I was healing from.  Although, they told me that while my injuries came from the peril of frostbite and extreme coldness, your injuries came from burning.”

Charis blushed at the greeting.  She had prepared herself to display a steely resolve, but Ophee’s warmth melted her resolve.  She walked over to Ophee and embraced her before sitting on the bed beside Ophee.  “Ischarus and I were not in as grave of danger as Semeion and Rhema, Ophee.  Our wounds have been largely healed for days.  But we didn’t want to come and bother you until we were sure that you were ready to see us and that we four could come and visit you together.  Actually, Semeion and Rhema just came off of a mandatory bed rest.”

Ophee looked to Rhema and Semeion with eyes that reflected sorrow.  “I’m sorry.”  She looked like there was more that she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring the words to her lips.

Brandt waited for a few seconds of an awkward pause to linger among the seven occupants of the room.  Once he had endured the pause long enough, he changed the subject.  “Ophee, we need a bit of help from you.  If you could, tell us what you remember about your training back in Eberdeen.  We are trying to make sense of what has happened since you all returned from Quehalost.  In order to do that, we may need for you to fill in some of the pieces.  Since you were alone in Eberdeen for several days, only you can fill in exactly what happened.”

Ophee nodded, and she paused for a brief moment to collect her thoughts.  “Well, I suppose one could say that it all began over tea.  My master likes to drink tea, and every training session that he starts with me or any of his other informants always begins with tea.”

Semeion, Brandt, and Rhema all exchanged knowing looks as Ophee continued.  “Over the next several days he began telling me much about what I told you when I first came back to you at the villa.  I was sent to find a woman who betrayed her own people and brought them out of Quehalost.”

Ophee’s speech slowed dramatically as the final words came out of her mouth.  Her eyes fixed on Charis, who was sitting right beside her.  Ophee’s eyes shifted from Charis’ hair to the almost unnoticeable flecks of red contained within the natural coloration of her irises.  

It was clear that this was not like the other episode in the barn.  In the barn, Ophee had lost control unwillingly.  Here, Ophee’s concentration had slowed her speech while her mind caught up with the words that she spoke.  Her eyes told her what she needed to know.  There couldn’t be any more doubt.

Charis smiled uneasily as Ophee stopped relaying her story and began to focus in on her.  “What’s wrong, Ophee? 

Ophee breathed in deeply and slowly shook her head.  Her eyelids narrowed as she peered straight into Charis’ face.  “You.  It was you all along.  My master sent me to find you and told me that I would be able to see the signs if I knew what to look for.  You are the duplicitous woman!  Tell me, Charis, where are your people?  You are clearly from the clan of an evil dragon.  I can see your Drakontai heritage now that I know what to look for.  So where can I find your people?  Didn’t you lead them away and isn’t it true that you didn’t go with them?”

Charis’ mind raced back to the conversation they had over a week ago at the villa.  “Me?  But, you said you were looking for a slaver!  I fight against those who enslave others.  That’s why I helped bring my people out of Quehalost!  My dragon father was enslaving them.  I helped free them from their suffering!”

Ophee paused and thought for another moment.  “You simply traded masters over your people.  You gave them to a new master in return for your own freedom!  Do you deny that your people are no longer visible in the world?  I was told that the slaver woman sent her people into an area of diminished visibility.  So, if what you say is true, then tell me where I can find your people!”

Rhema smiled.  She saw what was happening here.  “So you think that Charis is the woman that you were sent after?  Actually, I think you might be right, Ophee.”

Ophee was shocked to her Rhema agree with her.  For that matter, Charis, Ischarus, and Semeion were each shocked at Rhema’s assertion.  Semeion began to defend his wife.  “Now, just wait a minute, Rhema.”

Rhema took advantage of the look on Ophee’s face.  She had made an ally and wouldn’t let Semeion ruin her progress.  Rhema spun around on her left heel and raised an accusatory finger toward Semeion.  “No, Semeion.  You wait.  Don’t get all defensive on me.  Get off of your emotional high horse of rising to defend your wife and actually use that logical brain of yours.”

Semeion’s mouth hung agape as Rhema turned back to Ophee.  Her expression melted into one of compassion as she turned.  “It makes sense to me, Ophee.  Didn’t you say that the woman of duplicity was almost a slave herself?  Well, Charis did come out of Quehalost like her people.  And didn’t you say that the woman of duplicity would betray her own people to get them out of Quehalost?  Well, Charis did that, too.”

The look on Charis’ face was priceless.  Charis couldn’t decide whether to be hurt or angry with each of Rhema’s words.  Rhema glanced in Charis’ direction long enough to silence her.  This needed to be Rhema’s moment.  She was the one skilled at manipulating situations.  “I think each of the things your master told you was meant to lead you to Charis.  It makes sense, Ophee.  Your master wanted your subconscious to be drawn in antagonism to Charis.  That way, your mind would believe the lies much easier than without the antagonism.”

Ophee suddenly looked confused.  “You’re suggesting that I’ve been played by my master?”

Semeion now understood Rhema’s approach and was grateful that she had cut him off.  “The tea, Ophee.  My bet is that the tea had a suggestive drug inside.  You remember that root we had to bring your master?  It turns out that a secretion from the root makes the mind pliable.”

Rhema nodded.  “Exactly, Ophee.  Think about it.  We had earned your trust and loyalty.  Your master knew that he couldn’t set you against us directly.  He had to implant a suggestion and a believable story.  Everything you said about Charis is grounded in the truth.  But, everything you said about Charis has also had a poor spin upon it.”

Charis smiled cautiously.  “My people have switched their allegiances, Ophee.  I can see how it would seem like they went from serving my original dragon father to that of Ausaphaborishan.  But their service to Ausaphaborishan was desired, and it is certainly not slavery.”

Ophee turned to look at Charis and a single tear fell from her eye.  It had been a rollercoaster of emotion so far.  “And what I was told about the slave trade extending in Barghost?”

Brandt replied to this newest inquiry.  “Ophee, remember how vehemently I objected to slavery existing in Barghost?  Think and remember!”

Ophee nodded as she paused to think.  “It didn’t make sense to me either.  But when the words came out of my master’s mouth, they seemed so plausible.”

A slow grin began on the left portion of Rhema’s lips.  In the span of a few seconds the grin had spread across her face and encompassed both halves of her lips.  “That’s why they call it the Voodoo Lily, Ophee.  You were brainwashed with it.  You were told just enough truth to make the lies seem plausible.”

Semeion still didn’t have the answer he sought.  He watched as the truth sunk into Ophee’s mind.  She had resisted, but the fact that her master had used her and betrayed her loyalty through the use of the drug could not be denied.  She had been the one enslaved.  Semeion looked on with reserved compassion as Ophee buried her head into her hands and cried.  “We still don’t know why.”

Ophee was quickly flanked by Rhema and Charis.  They held her in a sturdy hug.  No words were shared until Ophee stopped crying.  She would need to sob and let the betrayal out.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt nodded with Semeion’s assertion. “And my guess is that in order to understand why we are going to have to interview Ophee.”

The acolyte who had been largely serving as the party’s nurse smiled at Brandt’s assertion and likewise replied. “Well, the good news is that she’s in no better shape than you all. She’s not likely to be very dangerous.”

Charis affirmed the acolyte’s opinion. “And, if she doesn’t see herself as our enemy, we shouldn’t have too much to worry about. In the same light, though, we should be careful to make sure that we give her no reason to begin considering us as enemies. I think it might be wise if we interview her in a manner that lets her do most of the talking. That way, we’ll be less likely to mess something up with an errant word or two.”

Brandt concurred quickly. “Agreed. Besides, the more she talks the less we’ll have to worry about accidentally feeding her information through our questioning. The greater the ratio of her speech to ours will mean a greater accuracy of response. Since she knows what happened but lacks the memories of the event, she has been able to keep from seeing us as the enemy. The facts suggest to her that some force took over her body and she was no longer consciously in control.”

There was little else to be said until the party had gone with Brandt to meet with Ophee. Just to be on the safe side, the acolyte that had been serving as the party’s nurse went with them. It was the acolyte’s job to be strong enough to resist Ophee should she suddenly grow aggressive towards the party and Brandt once more.

The door to Ophee’s room opened into a brightly painted room. It was clear that her room had been designed with healing in mind. The walls had been dyed a pale yellow, and the effect of the dye was that of enhancing the sunlight as it poured in through the window.

Ophee grinned and stretched out her arms as she sat up in bed. She was covered from the waist down with a thin blanket. Her chest and arms were covered with a loose fitting white tunic. “Friends! Rhema and Charis, please come in. It is good to see you alive after what they have told me. And, Semeion and Ischarus too! They informed me during my healing process that there were grave injuries, injuries not unlike the injuries I was healing from. Although, they told me that while my injuries came from the peril of frostbite and extreme coldness, your injuries came from burning.”

Charis blushed at the greeting. She had prepared herself to display a steely resolve, but Ophee’s warmth melted her resolve. She walked over to Ophee and embraced her before sitting on the bed beside Ophee. “Ischarus and I were not in as grave of danger as Semeion and Rhema, Ophee. Our wounds have been largely healed for days. But we didn’t want to come and bother you until we were sure that you were ready to see us and that we four could come and visit you together. Actually, Semeion and Rhema just came off of a mandatory bed rest.”

Ophee looked to Rhema and Semeion with eyes that reflected sorrow. “I’m sorry.” She looked like there was more that she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring the words to her lips.

Brandt waited for a few seconds of an awkward pause to linger among the seven occupants of the room. Once he had endured the pause long enough, he changed the subject. “Ophee, we need a bit of help from you. If you could, tell us what you remember about your training back in Eberdeen. We are trying to make sense of what has happened since you all returned from Quehalost. In order to do that, we may need for you to fill in some of the pieces. Since you were alone in Eberdeen for several days, only you can fill in exactly what happened.”

Ophee nodded, and she paused for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, I suppose one could say that it all began over tea. My master likes to drink tea, and every training session that he starts with me or any of his other informants always begins with tea.”

Semeion, Brandt, and Rhema all exchanged knowing looks as Ophee continued. “Over the next several days he began telling me much about what I told you when I first came back to you at the villa. I was sent to find a woman who betrayed her own people and brought them out of Quehalost.”

Ophee’s speech slowed dramatically as the final words came out of her mouth. Her eyes fixed on Charis, who was sitting right beside her. Ophee’s eyes shifted from Charis’ hair to the almost unnoticeable flecks of red contained within the natural coloration of her irises. 

It was clear that this was not like the other episode in the barn. In the barn, Ophee had lost control unwillingly. Here, Ophee’s concentration had slowed her speech while her mind caught up with the words that she spoke. Her eyes told her what she needed to know. There couldn’t be any more doubt.

Charis smiled uneasily as Ophee stopped relaying her story and began to focus in on her. “What’s wrong, Ophee? 

Ophee breathed in deeply and slowly shook her head. Her eyelids narrowed as she peered straight into Charis’ face. “You. It was you all along. My master sent me to find you and told me that I would be able to see the signs if I knew what to look for. You are the duplicitous woman! Tell me, Charis, where are your people? You are clearly from the clan of an evil dragon. I can see your Drakontai heritage now that I know what to look for. So where can I find your people? Didn’t you lead them away and isn’t it true that you didn’t go with them?”

Charis’ mind raced back to the conversation they had over a week ago at the villa. “Me? But, you said you were looking for a slaver! I fight against those who enslave others. That’s why I helped bring my people out of Quehalost! My dragon father was enslaving them. I helped free them from their suffering!”

Ophee paused and thought for another moment. “You simply traded masters over your people. You gave them to a new master in return for your own freedom! Do you deny that your people are no longer visible in the world? I was told that the slaver woman sent her people into an area of diminished visibility. So, if what you say is true, then tell me where I can find your people!”

Rhema smiled. She saw what was happening here. “So you think that Charis is the woman that you were sent after? Actually, I think you might be right, Ophee.”

Ophee was shocked to her Rhema agree with her. For that matter, Charis, Ischarus, and Semeion were each shocked at Rhema’s assertion. Semeion began to defend his wife. “Now, just wait a minute, Rhema.”

Rhema took advantage of the look on Ophee’s face. She had made an ally and wouldn’t let Semeion ruin her progress. Rhema spun around on her left heel and raised an accusatory finger toward Semeion. “No, Semeion. You wait. Don’t get all defensive on me. Get off of your emotional high horse of rising to defend your wife and actually use that logical brain of yours.”

Semeion’s mouth hung agape as Rhema turned back to Ophee. Her expression melted into one of compassion as she turned. “It makes sense to me, Ophee. Didn’t you say that the woman of duplicity was almost a slave herself? Well, Charis did come out of Quehalost like her people. And didn’t you say that the woman of duplicity would betray her own people to get them out of Quehalost? Well, Charis did that, too.”

The look on Charis’ face was priceless. Charis couldn’t decide whether to be hurt or angry with each of Rhema’s words. Rhema glanced in Charis’ direction long enough to silence her. This needed to be Rhema’s moment. She was the one skilled at manipulating situations. “I think each of the things your master told you was meant to lead you to Charis. It makes sense, Ophee. Your master wanted your subconscious to be drawn in antagonism to Charis. That way, your mind would believe the lies much easier than without the antagonism.”

Ophee suddenly looked confused. “You’re suggesting that I’ve been played by my master?”

Semeion now understood Rhema’s approach and was grateful that she had cut him off. “The tea, Ophee. My bet is that the tea had a suggestive drug inside. You remember that root we had to bring your master? It turns out that a secretion from the root makes the mind pliable.”

Rhema nodded. “Exactly, Ophee. Think about it. We had earned your trust and loyalty. Your master knew that he couldn’t set you against us directly. He had to implant a suggestion and a believable story. Everything you said about Charis is grounded in the truth. But, everything you said about Charis has also had a poor spin upon it.”

Charis smiled cautiously. “My people have switched their allegiances, Ophee. I can see how it would seem like they went from serving my original dragon father to that of Ausaphaborishan. But their service to Ausaphaborishan was desired, and it is certainly not slavery.”

Ophee turned to look at Charis and a single tear fell from her eye. It had been a rollercoaster of emotion so far. “And what I was told about the slave trade extending in Barghost?”

Brandt replied to this newest inquiry. “Ophee, remember how vehemently I objected to slavery existing in Barghost? Think and remember!”

Ophee nodded as she paused to think. “It didn’t make sense to me either. But when the words came out of my master’s mouth, they seemed so plausible.”

A slow grin began on the left portion of Rhema’s lips. In the span of a few seconds the grin had spread across her face and encompassed both halves of her lips. “That’s why they call it the Voodoo Lily, Ophee. You were brainwashed with it. You were told just enough truth to make the lies seem plausible.”

Semeion still didn’t have the answer he sought. He watched as the truth sunk into Ophee’s mind. She had resisted, but the fact that her master had used her and betrayed her loyalty through the use of the drug could not be denied. She had been the one enslaved. Semeion looked on with reserved compassion as Ophee buried her head into her hands and cried. “We still don’t know why.”

Ophee was quickly flanked by Rhema and Charis. They held her in a sturdy hug. No words were shared until Ophee stopped crying. She would need to sob and let the betrayal out.
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (May 21, 2007)

Once Ophee had stopped crying, she released Rhema and Charis.  “You all are so kind, considering what I’ve done to you.”

Semeion spoke from the other side of the room.  “You were under the delusions of a powerful twisting of your mind.  You were drugged, lied to, brainwashed, and sent out into the world.  What happened is not entirely your fault.”

Ischarus grinned and approached the edge of Ophee’s bed.  He turned his head to Brandt and winked before turning once more to face Ophee.  “A very wise person once explained to me, ‘I can tell by your expressions that this is a hard lesson to learn and that you have learned it.  You have erred, but your mistake was at least logical.  Since Reah is most interested in justice, I can see no better punishment for you than to work to undo your mistake.’  The way I see it, you can help us thwart the plans of your master.  And then like us, you will have paid for your mistake and the world will have suffered nothing for it.  Personally, I think that we can live with those terms.”

Brandt grinned broadly in response to Ischarus’ remembrance of his earlier expression.  “You learn well, Ischarus.  And you lead with the hand of faithful justice.  Perhaps there is hope for you yet.” He chuckled and turned to allow Ophee the chance to speak.

Ophee smiled in response to Ischarus’ kind words, but simply shook her head.  “I appreciate your kindness, really I do.  But to be honest with you I don’t know that I can be much help.  I don’t know anything other than what I have told you.  Apparently I was affected enough by this drug you claim was in the tea that I don’t know anything other than my orders.”

Rhema stood up from the bed and pulled her hair back into a single ponytail to get the hair out of her eyes.  “Perhaps you weren’t told anything, Ophee, but that doesn’t mean that you still can’t be of help to us.  I think it is reasonable to assume that your master needed the Black Arum for mind control.  Yet, we returned with a significant amount of the Black Arum, far more than he could have used on you alone.”

Ischarus interrupted his wife.  “I hear where you are going with this, Rhema.  But we shouldn’t also forget that if this wizard is smart then he’ll likely try to cultivate his own supply.  So, some of what we brought back is likely to have found a home in the ground.”

Rhema nodded and continued her thought.  “True, but we also know that the Voodoo Lily is hard to grow outside of its natural environment in Quehalost.  Personally, I’d like to believe that it thrives on the evil aspect of the land enough that its sap can be used to poison the mind.  But that’s neither here nor there, really.  Even if we assume that half of the supply that we brought back from Quehalost was used to cultivate his own supply, it still leaves a significant amount left over.”

Ophee nodded with the rest of the occupants of the room.  It was clear from the pause that they were waiting for Rhema to continue.  “So, that means that the wizard had a significant supply of Voodoo Lily root to use.  Assuming that he had the magical capacity to brew up a significant amount of poison from the root, it could have been used to brainwash more people than you.”

Ischarus had begun to follow his wife’s reasoning.  “Of course, that makes sense.  Why would the wizard in Eberdeen want us dead?”

The light of understanding passed to Charis.  “Because we got the root out of Quehalost for him!  If anyone is discovered to have been brainwashed by Voodoo Lily root, we’d be able to point the authorities in a likely direction.  We were liabilities!”

Semeion was excited to see Charis filling in some of the pieces.  “And if you’ve got a supply of Black Arum root that can be made into a brainwashing poison, what better way to exterminate the party than by sending in a friend whom they trust?”

Ophee looked down to the bed and shook her head.  “How could I have been so stupid?  I joined up with the wizard because I had heard that working for that wizard all but guaranteed social movement.  My master – although I guess that’s an inappropriate title now – is known for getting people advanced.  My job with him was supposed to lead me to new heights, not into the possibility of slaughtering my friends!”

Brandt chuckled at Ophee’s comment.  “There is seldom any meaningful quick way up the social scale, Ophee.  But don’t worry.  You were duped just as much as the Rhema, Charis, Ischarus, and Semeion.  None of us saw this coming.  The important thing now is to try and determine what possible goal this wizard could be working towards.  There is much that can be done with a brainwashed victim.  And we have no idea who these brainwashed victims just might be.”

Semeion snapped his index finger and thumb together and pointed to Brandt.  “That’s it.  It has to be.  Think about it.  Ophee and Darkbringer both showed the effects of the poison.  And what did they have in common?”

Silence hung in the room for several seconds before Ophee spoke.  “We were both in the wizard’s service?  We were paid to do a job?”

Semeion smiled broadly and his eyes flashed with excitement.  “Bingo!  You win the prize, milady.  The wizard uses the brainwashing treatment on those who already trust him.  He is using people in his employ to carry out tasks without their knowledge.  You never know, Ophee.  You could have done countless tasks in his service and never recalled any of them.”

Charis absorbed much of her husband’s excitement as he spoke.  As she sat beside Ophee upon the bed, she turned and spoke.  The flecks in her eyes glistened as her face brightened with anticipation.  “How many people are in the wizard’s employ, Ophee?  How many people hold information gathering positions like you?”

Ophee began chewing on her bottom lip as she thought.  “There are seven of us like me, one for each of the major cities of Tongra.  Angelique, Garnet, and Scarhaus are too close to Quehalost to warrant the wizard’s expenditure of resources.  But there is an agent in Eberdeen, Juniper, Bacrothen, Fingerdale, Partuss, Classo, and even Reignsburg.”

Brandt nodded as Ophee listed the major cities.  “That’s all of them: King Rupert’s domain, Duke Norford’s domain, Lord Chauvre, our own Lord Ironblood, Earl Patron, Earl Boniface, and Earl Sniblett.  Of course, that leaves out the Counts and their lands: Count Poltier, Count Gravous, and Count Ahlstrom.  But as you said, Ophee, the likelihood of anything significant happening in those lands besides the security of the mountain range is unlikely.”

Charis smirked as Brandt finished speaking.  “By significant, you mean something like a fight between dragons and the presentation of a whole new populace to Ausaphaborishan?”

Brandt nodded and smiled.  “Exactly.  Nothing so significant would surely happen there.”  He laughed, and he was quickly joined by the rest of the occupants of the room.

Semeion returned the party to the proper discussion.  “We have a couple of things in our favor, of course.  The most significant of those things is that the wizard likely thinks that we are dead.  When the barn burned, it would be easy to assume we all burned up with it.”

The acolyte who had served as their nurse spoke softly so as not to interrupt offensively.  “Yes, my lords.  That is a safe assumption.  Little was done to stop the barn from burning once you all were removed.  We thought it best to allow the barn to burn to the ground and smolder before protecting the surrounding fields.  And, this place is protected against magical information gathering.  So long as you remain in here, it should be impossible to know that you are alive so long as the one who seeks such information is an enemy of justice and Reah herself.”

Brandt concurred.  “Indeed.  The wizard in Eberdeen should be blind to our movements.  We definitely have that in our favor.  We also have someone who can give specific descriptions of those who are in the wizard’s employ.  That may prove significant.”

Ophee smiled at the mention of the possibility that she might be able to help.  “I can also give you the places that each member of the wizard’s information team is likely to frequent.  We learn each other’s routines from time to time just because when the wizard calls us together we share about the contexts of our assignments.”

The color drained out of Ophee’s face as soon as she spoke the words.  Charis was the first to notice that Ophee’s attitude had dimmed.  “Ophee?  What’s wrong?”

Ophee swallowed hard.  “I remember that my master told me that once I had successfully accomplished this current mission that he was going to immediately recall me and give me a second urgent mission here in Fingerdale.  I would guess that if he has assumed that I am dead, that he may have moved on without me.”

Rhema’s eyes darted across the room to meet Brandt’s eyes.  “It sounds like our deaths were to be the catalysts of something fairly significant.  We may already be too late, you know.”

Brandt agreed with Rhema.  “It’s possible, of course.”  He turned to the acolyte, who was standing behind him near the door.  “Go, and bring me Master Searthu.  Tell him that the case that began with Darkbringer has grown increasingly deep.  Truth evades me at every turn, and I may be running out of time.  His talents are needed if we are to act quickly.”

The acolyte darted out of the room and Brandt turned back to Ophee.  “If you don’t mind, Ophee, could you begin to bring to mind a few memories of the other agents?  Master Searthu can use that information when he comes.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Once Ophee had stopped crying, she released Rhema and Charis. “You all are so kind, considering what I’ve done to you.”

Semeion spoke from the other side of the room. “You were under the delusions of a powerful twisting of your mind. You were drugged, lied to, brainwashed, and sent out into the world. What happened is not entirely your fault.”

Ischarus grinned and approached the edge of Ophee’s bed. He turned his head to Brandt and winked before turning once more to face Ophee. “A very wise person once explained to me, ‘I can tell by your expressions that this is a hard lesson to learn and that you have learned it. You have erred, but your mistake was at least logical. Since Reah is most interested in justice, I can see no better punishment for you than to work to undo your mistake.’ The way I see it, you can help us thwart the plans of your master. And then like us, you will have paid for your mistake and the world will have suffered nothing for it. Personally, I think that we can live with those terms.”

Brandt grinned broadly in response to Ischarus’ remembrance of his earlier expression. “You learn well, Ischarus. And you lead with the hand of faithful justice. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.” He chuckled and turned to allow Ophee the chance to speak.

Ophee smiled in response to Ischarus’ kind words, but simply shook her head. “I appreciate your kindness, really I do. But to be honest with you I don’t know that I can be much help. I don’t know anything other than what I have told you. Apparently I was affected enough by this drug you claim was in the tea that I don’t know anything other than my orders.”

Rhema stood up from the bed and pulled her hair back into a single ponytail to get the hair out of her eyes. “Perhaps you weren’t told anything, Ophee, but that doesn’t mean that you still can’t be of help to us. I think it is reasonable to assume that your master needed the Black Arum for mind control. Yet, we returned with a significant amount of the Black Arum, far more than he could have used on you alone.”

Ischarus interrupted his wife. “I hear where you are going with this, Rhema. But we shouldn’t also forget that if this wizard is smart then he’ll likely try to cultivate his own supply. So, some of what we brought back is likely to have found a home in the ground.”

Rhema nodded and continued her thought. “True, but we also know that the Voodoo Lily is hard to grow outside of its natural environment in Quehalost. Personally, I’d like to believe that it thrives on the evil aspect of the land enough that its sap can be used to poison the mind. But that’s neither here nor there, really. Even if we assume that half of the supply that we brought back from Quehalost was used to cultivate his own supply, it still leaves a significant amount left over.”

Ophee nodded with the rest of the occupants of the room. It was clear from the pause that they were waiting for Rhema to continue. “So, that means that the wizard had a significant supply of Voodoo Lily root to use. Assuming that he had the magical capacity to brew up a significant amount of poison from the root, it could have been used to brainwash more people than you.”

Ischarus had begun to follow his wife’s reasoning. “Of course, that makes sense. Why would the wizard in Eberdeen want us dead?”

The light of understanding passed to Charis. “Because we got the root out of Quehalost for him! If anyone is discovered to have been brainwashed by Voodoo Lily root, we’d be able to point the authorities in a likely direction. We were liabilities!”

Semeion was excited to see Charis filling in some of the pieces. “And if you’ve got a supply of Black Arum root that can be made into a brainwashing poison, what better way to exterminate the party than by sending in a friend whom they trust?”

Ophee looked down to the bed and shook her head. “How could I have been so stupid? I joined up with the wizard because I had heard that working for that wizard all but guaranteed social movement. My master – although I guess that’s an inappropriate title now – is known for getting people advanced. My job with him was supposed to lead me to new heights, not into the possibility of slaughtering my friends!”

Brandt chuckled at Ophee’s comment. “There is seldom any meaningful quick way up the social scale, Ophee. But don’t worry. You were duped just as much as the Rhema, Charis, Ischarus, and Semeion. None of us saw this coming. The important thing now is to try and determine what possible goal this wizard could be working towards. There is much that can be done with a brainwashed victim. And we have no idea who these brainwashed victims just might be.”

Semeion snapped his index finger and thumb together and pointed to Brandt. “That’s it. It has to be. Think about it. Ophee and Darkbringer both showed the effects of the poison. And what did they have in common?”

Silence hung in the room for several seconds before Ophee spoke. “We were both in the wizard’s service? We were paid to do a job?”

Semeion smiled broadly and his eyes flashed with excitement. “Bingo! You win the prize, milady. The wizard uses the brainwashing treatment on those who already trust him. He is using people in his employ to carry out tasks without their knowledge. You never know, Ophee. You could have done countless tasks in his service and never recalled any of them.”

Charis absorbed much of her husband’s excitement as he spoke. As she sat beside Ophee upon the bed, she turned and spoke. The flecks in her eyes glistened as her face brightened with anticipation. “How many people are in the wizard’s employ, Ophee? How many people hold information gathering positions like you?”

Ophee began chewing on her bottom lip as she thought. “There are seven of us like me, one for each of the major cities of Tongra. Angelique, Garnet, and Scarhaus are too close to Quehalost to warrant the wizard’s expenditure of resources. But there is an agent in Eberdeen, Juniper, Bacrothen, Fingerdale, Partuss, Classo, and even Reignsburg.”

Brandt nodded as Ophee listed the major cities. “That’s all of them: King Rupert’s domain, Duke Norford’s domain, Lord Chauvre, our own Lord Ironblood, Earl Patron, Earl Boniface, and Earl Sniblett. Of course, that leaves out the Counts and their lands: Count Poltier, Count Gravous, and Count Ahlstrom. But as you said, Ophee, the likelihood of anything significant happening in those lands besides the security of the mountain range is unlikely.”

Charis smirked as Brandt finished speaking. “By significant, you mean something like a fight between dragons and the presentation of a whole new populace to Ausaphaborishan?”

Brandt nodded and smiled. “Exactly. Nothing so significant would surely happen there.” He laughed, and he was quickly joined by the rest of the occupants of the room.

Semeion returned the party to the proper discussion. “We have a couple of things in our favor, of course. The most significant of those things is that the wizard likely thinks that we are dead. When the barn burned, it would be easy to assume we all burned up with it.”

The acolyte who had served as their nurse spoke softly so as not to interrupt offensively. “Yes, my lords. That is a safe assumption. Little was done to stop the barn from burning once you all were removed. We thought it best to allow the barn to burn to the ground and smolder before protecting the surrounding fields. And, this place is protected against magical information gathering. So long as you remain in here, it should be impossible to know that you are alive so long as the one who seeks such information is an enemy of justice and Reah herself.”

Brandt concurred. “Indeed. The wizard in Eberdeen should be blind to our movements. We definitely have that in our favor. We also have someone who can give specific descriptions of those who are in the wizard’s employ. That may prove significant.”

Ophee smiled at the mention of the possibility that she might be able to help. “I can also give you the places that each member of the wizard’s information team is likely to frequent. We learn each other’s routines from time to time just because when the wizard calls us together we share about the contexts of our assignments.”

The color drained out of Ophee’s face as soon as she spoke the words. Charis was the first to notice that Ophee’s attitude had dimmed. “Ophee? What’s wrong?”

Ophee swallowed hard. “I remember that my master told me that once I had successfully accomplished this current mission that he was going to immediately recall me and give me a second urgent mission here in Fingerdale. I would guess that if he has assumed that I am dead, that he may have moved on without me.”

Rhema’s eyes darted across the room to meet Brandt’s eyes. “It sounds like our deaths were to be the catalysts of something fairly significant. We may already be too late, you know.”

Brandt agreed with Rhema. “It’s possible, of course.” He turned to the acolyte, who was standing behind him near the door. “Go, and bring me Master Searthu. Tell him that the case that began with Darkbringer has grown increasingly deep. Truth evades me at every turn, and I may be running out of time. His talents are needed if we are to act quickly.”

The acolyte darted out of the room and Brandt turned back to Ophee. “If you don’t mind, Ophee, could you begin to bring to mind a few memories of the other agents? Master Searthu can use that information when he comes.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 25, 2007)

It was only a few moments before the acolyte returned with Master Searthu.  She bowed before Brandt, although it was Searthu who spoke first.  “I hear you have a need, Brandt?”

Brandt smiled and extended a hand in a friendly gesture.  “As always with this crew.”  Brandt motioned to the foursome standing behind him.  “But as luck may have it, you may hold the key to success for these four.”

Master Searthu grinned as he looked at the foursome and Ophee.  He had heard the stories about Brandt and the sneak attack form Ophee.  He could tell that they were largely still recovering.  He could also tell by the way that they surrounded Ophee that she had been able to redeem herself in the eyes of justice.

Master Brandt continued.  “Well, all kidding aside, we think we’re onto something rather significant in Tongra.  There is a wizard in Eberdeen who may well be using some inappropriate means to accomplish his own hidden agenda.  It turns out that our own Ophee here was the victim of a drug induced brainwashing.  I’m afraid that there might be more innocents involved than only Ophee, however.  You see, the wizard has a few other information gatherers throughout the major cities in Tongra.  If the wizard was able to brainwash Ophee into acting against her own will, it is likely that his other employees could be given the same treatment.  Is there any chance that you could find them?”

Master Searthru nodded.  “There is always a chance, so long as I have something to focus on.  In addition, the more that you could narrow the search area the better I’ll be able to find them.”

Brandt turned to Ophee.  “Start with the ones of whom you are most confident in your ability to find, Ophee.  Then work down the list.  If we can have success at first, it may prove valuable.”

Ophee looked to Master Searthu.  “Ready?”

Master Searthu smiled as if looking upon his own acolyte.  “Any time, my dear.”

Ophee looked down to her lap.  The uniform color of the blanket covering her legs allowed her to distance her mind from the room and begin to search her memories of the others.  “I suppose I am most familiar with those who are closest to me.  I’ve occasionally traveled through Partuss in coming to my post here in Fingerdale.  You’re searching for a young man in Partuss by the name of Eliah Dungar.  He comes from an unusual mixture of human and elf blood.  His father was human, and he bears great resemblance to his human lineage.  About the only thing that he received from his mother are the typical elven ears and almond shaped eyes.  He has his father’s red hair and a red goatee as well.”

Master Searthu accepted the knowledge with a nod.  “And where is he most likely to be found in Partuss?”

Ophee nodded and grinned.  “This one’s easy.  He talks all the time about a bakery beside his office.  During the day, he can usually be found in his office or at the bakery.  He loves their bread, and apparently they have a supplier of meats as well.  He raves about their roast beef sandwiches covered in horseradish sauce.  The name of the bakery is ‘Sweet Endings.’  His office should not be far if you can seek that place.”

Master Searthu nodded and opened up a cylindrical leather case about the size of a quiver for arrows.  He pulled out a single piece of rolled parchment.  “I assumed from your summons, Brandt, that you would need me to work my specialty.  I’ll need just a moment to get into the proper frame of mind and then I’ll put my skill with insight to good use.”

Master Searthu inhaled slowly and then spoke the words printed upon the scroll.    “Oasha-Tel Praos.”  The words began to glow intensely yellow as the magic was released.  Tiny yellow crystals appeared to rise off of the parchment and drift towards the eyes of Master Searthu.  Gradually the whites of his eyes took on a slight yellow tint as they absorbed the magic from the scroll.

The priest of Reah allowed his eyes to dart left and right as he began to see the remote location.  “I can see the bakery, now.  The bakery is only occupied by the woman behind the counter.  I’ll take a look outside and in the surrounding buildings until I have found the one that you call Eliah.”

The party sat in silence for several minutes.  Master Searthu’s eyes were quite fascinating to watch.  They appeared to look at random locations inside the room within the temple, even at various people.  However, from the focus of the eyes and the look of concentration upon his face, they could tell that Master Searthu was not actually seeing anything within the room.

After about three minutes Master Searthu smiled.  “I believe I’ve found him, Ophee.  I see a red haired human sitting at a desk.  He does have an impressive goatee, along with those elven ears of which you spoke.  He has not taken notice of my magic.”

Ophee smiled.  “That’s the one, it’s got to be him.  How many pointy-eared, red haired men can there be in Partuss?”

The party spent the better part of the next two hours locating each of the wizard’s information gatherers.  Master Searthu had brought plenty of parchment with the proper spell upon them.   As Brandt had suggested earlier, starting with the most familiar gave encouragement to Ophee.  She was able to remember each of their names, which in itself was a huge boon to Master Searthu.  His magic was strong enough to locate each of the wizard’s servants with what Ophee could provide.  With each casting of the spell, the whites of Master Searthu’s eyes turned more and more yellow.

Once they were finished, Semieon turned to Master Searthu and nodded in appreciation before addressing Brandt.  “We’ve been sitting around doing nothing but healing for far more days than we should have, I imagine.  Now that we have this information, I suggest we do something with it.”

Brandt’s acolyte interjected with concern.  “You’re not fully ready for the world!”

Brandt grinned.  “You’re a good acolyte of Reah, that’s for sure.  But I feel a good bit of Bemme in that statement as well.  Of course, Bemme’s love and compassion is nothing of which you should be ashamed.  Either way, however, the truth is that in service to Reah we must seek justice first.  We are fully healed, at least physically.  We might be a good bit rusty and our joints a bit stiff, though.  But it cannot be denied that our bodies have been restored completely through Reah’s might.”

The acolyte bowed in service and didn’t speak again.  Ischarus was the next person to speak.  “I can’t help but think of the irony in the numbers game.  The wizard has seven information gatherers.  Since Ophee has been brought to our side that number is now reduced to six.  Counting Ophee and Brandt, there are six people deeply involved in thwarting the wizard.  The numbers are even.”

Master Searthu cleared his throat.  “Am I nothing next to Brandt’s might?”  He grinned after making the comment and flashed a wide smile to Brandt.

Brandt took the opportunity to reply.  “Actually, Searthu, you can play a significant role if you would be so kind.  Someone is going to need to stay here and keep an eye on all the remaining six marks.”

Searthu nodded.  “My magical sensors have been put on an automatic mode.  They will signal me if there is any substantial change in location.  For now, they will monitor their mark.  I can view them whenever the need arises.”

Brandt nodded and bowed deeply at Master Seathu’s response.  “Then, what I am about to suggest is a bit bold.  But I think if we are going to strike quickly, we’re going to need a plan like the one that I am about to propose.  I think we should split up and use teleportation magic.” 

Brandt’s acolyte breathed in deeply at the suggestion, but she made no comment.  Brandt continued to expound upon his idea.  “We aren’t going to have to look for a kill, and we’ll have surprise on our side.  Our first priority would be to split up and convince the wizard’s servant’s to surrender to us and come to the temple.  Assuming they don’t take that message kindly, our next objective would be to render them unconscious and bring them here for holding.  Then we can counteract the brainwashing.”

Charis smiled, but it was Rhema who surprised everyone with the next comment.  “I like the plan.  It’s simple and direct.  It has my vote.”

Ischarus was shocked as much as everyone else with the suggestion.  “Rhema?  Aren’t you usually the cautious one?  I expected to have to jump in head first in my support and convince you that it was the best way.”

Rhema shook her head.  “No, not this time.  There is a time for caution, and this is not it.  We’ve already given the wizard plenty of lead time to work his plan.  He doesn’t know we are still alive.  If we go after his servants one by one, he might notice.  That’ll give him time to react.  The only way that we can hope for complete success is to strike quickly and simultaneously at all points.  It isn’t like me to support this idea, but it logic has merit.”

Master Searthu interjected a comment before anyone else could speak.  “Well, my vision upon the wizard’s lackeys will last for another half of a day.  I suggest you take no more than six hours preparing yourselves.  Meet me in my office when you are ready to leave.  Once we are all gathered, I’ll see to your coming and going.”

Semeion grinned mischievously.  “Brandt, do you still have those magic rings that you allowed us to use when we needed to get to Bacrothen and the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains?  If we had those, the four of us could bring ourselves back.  Assuming that you could bring yourself back, it would leave only Ophee for Master Searthu to concern himself over.  That would no doubt make his job easier.”

Brandt’s face jumped with excitement.  “An excellent suggestion, Semeion.  The rings are back at my house, but I can easily retrieve them in our time frame. And, that leaves supplies and assignments to be discussed.”

Master Searthu stepped to the door.  “If I may, I will excuse myself and return to my office.  It will be easier to monitor my magic without the distractions of conversation.”

The party nodded and waited for Master Searthu to leave before continuing.  Once he was gone, Charis rose from Ophee’s bed and turned back to Ophee in order to speak to her.  “Ophee, you’ve seen us in action.  I think you should be the one to assign us our duties.  You know your counterparts in the other cities and hopefully their weaknesses.”

The party concurred, and Ophee began to ponder the assignments.  “Well, three of them don’t take much thought at all.  I’d like to go to Partuss.  I know Eliah the best, and he is the one I’ll be most successful in convincing.  The most advanced of the wizard’s employ is Jerome in Eberdeen.  He’s also the most likely to be protected under my former master’s magic.  I’d recommend Brandt pursue him.  Finally, I’d think that sending Semeion after Barra in Classo would make sense.  She’s an oaf, and I don’t use that term lightly.”

Semeion looked a bit confused.  “You plan on sending my fragile frame after someone who is an oaf?  By oaf, I assume that you mean the muscle-bound kind?”

Ophee smiled pleasantly.  “Yes.  Barra is all muscle and no mind.  Your magic should be quite effective against her, assuming that you can take her by surprise.  I would recommend direct conflict rather than persuasion.  She’s not likely to listen anyway, and if you try to talk first you’ll just give up your surprise.”

Charis smiled at Semeion.  “Just remember, the greatest tree can be felled with a small axe.  It’s all in who holds the axe.  You can do it!”

Ophee continued with the assignments.  “Well, that leaves Charis, Rhema, and Ischarus.  Rhema, you would probably do well against Ehre in Reignsburg.  She’s a bit of a follower, and your persuasiveness might do well against her.  I’d suggest sending Ischarus against Darr in Juniper, just because I don’t see any way that one isn’t going to end in a fight.  I suppose then that leaves Charis against Haroth in Bacrothen.  You’ll do alright, I’m sure.  Although be prepared for a fight as well.  My former master was no fool.  He put his strongest and most loyal servants in the largest cities.  Those are the duties that fell to Brandt, Ischarus, and Charis.”

Charis smiled and put a reaffirming hand on Ophee’s shoulder.  “It sounds as though you’ve done well in giving us your suggestions.  Now we just need to get prepared and get to Master Searthu’s office.”

Brandt opened the door.  “If you’ll follow me, all of you, I’ll take you to where your possessions are being stored.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It was only a few moments before the acolyte returned with Master Searthu. She bowed before Brandt, although it was Searthu who spoke first. “I hear you have a need, Brandt?”

Brandt smiled and extended a hand in a friendly gesture. “As always with this crew.” Brandt motioned to the foursome standing behind him. “But as luck may have it, you may hold the key to success for these four.”

Master Searthu grinned as he looked at the foursome and Ophee. He had heard the stories about Brandt and the sneak attack form Ophee. He could tell that they were largely still recovering. He could also tell by the way that they surrounded Ophee that she had been able to redeem herself in the eyes of justice.

Master Brandt continued. “Well, all kidding aside, we think we’re onto something rather significant in Tongra. There is a wizard in Eberdeen who may well be using some inappropriate means to accomplish his own hidden agenda. It turns out that our own Ophee here was the victim of a drug induced brainwashing. I’m afraid that there might be more innocents involved than only Ophee, however. You see, the wizard has a few other information gatherers throughout the major cities in Tongra. If the wizard was able to brainwash Ophee into acting against her own will, it is likely that his other employees could be given the same treatment. Is there any chance that you could find them?”

Master Searthru nodded. “There is always a chance, so long as I have something to focus on. In addition, the more that you could narrow the search area the better I’ll be able to find them.”

Brandt turned to Ophee. “Start with the ones of whom you are most confident in your ability to find, Ophee. Then work down the list. If we can have success at first, it may prove valuable.”

Ophee looked to Master Searthu. “Ready?”

Master Searthu smiled as if looking upon his own acolyte. “Any time, my dear.”

Ophee looked down to her lap. The uniform color of the blanket covering her legs allowed her to distance her mind from the room and begin to search her memories of the others. “I suppose I am most familiar with those who are closest to me. I’ve occasionally traveled through Partuss in coming to my post here in Fingerdale. You’re searching for a young man in Partuss by the name of Eliah Dungar. He comes from an unusual mixture of human and elf blood. His father was human, and he bears great resemblance to his human lineage. About the only thing that he received from his mother are the typical elven ears and almond shaped eyes. He has his father’s red hair and a red goatee as well.”

Master Searthu accepted the knowledge with a nod. “And where is he most likely to be found in Partuss?”

Ophee nodded and grinned. “This one’s easy. He talks all the time about a bakery beside his office. During the day, he can usually be found in his office or at the bakery. He loves their bread, and apparently they have a supplier of meats as well. He raves about their roast beef sandwiches covered in horseradish sauce. The name of the bakery is ‘Sweet Endings.’ His office should not be far if you can seek that place.”

Master Searthu nodded and opened up a cylindrical leather case about the size of a quiver for arrows. He pulled out a single piece of rolled parchment. “I assumed from your summons, Brandt, that you would need me to work my specialty. I’ll need just a moment to get into the proper frame of mind and then I’ll put my skill with insight to good use.”

Master Searthu inhaled slowly and then spoke the words printed upon the scroll. “Oasha-Tel Praos.” The words began to glow intensely yellow as the magic was released. Tiny yellow crystals appeared to rise off of the parchment and drift towards the eyes of Master Searthu. Gradually the whites of his eyes took on a slight yellow tint as they absorbed the magic from the scroll.

The priest of Reah allowed his eyes to dart left and right as he began to see the remote location. “I can see the bakery, now. The bakery is only occupied by the woman behind the counter. I’ll take a look outside and in the surrounding buildings until I have found the one that you call Eliah.”

The party sat in silence for several minutes. Master Searthu’s eyes were quite fascinating to watch. They appeared to look at random locations inside the room within the temple, even at various people. However, from the focus of the eyes and the look of concentration upon his face, they could tell that Master Searthu was not actually seeing anything within the room.

After about three minutes Master Searthu smiled. “I believe I’ve found him, Ophee. I see a red haired human sitting at a desk. He does have an impressive goatee, along with those elven ears of which you spoke. He has not taken notice of my magic.”

Ophee smiled. “That’s the one, it’s got to be him. How many pointy-eared, red haired men can there be in Partuss?”

The party spent the better part of the next two hours locating each of the wizard’s information gatherers. Master Searthu had brought plenty of parchment with the proper spell upon them. As Brandt had suggested earlier, starting with the most familiar gave encouragement to Ophee. She was able to remember each of their names, which in itself was a huge boon to Master Searthu. His magic was strong enough to locate each of the wizard’s servants with what Ophee could provide. With each casting of the spell, the whites of Master Searthu’s eyes turned more and more yellow.

Once they were finished, Semieon turned to Master Searthu and nodded in appreciation before addressing Brandt. “We’ve been sitting around doing nothing but healing for far more days than we should have, I imagine. Now that we have this information, I suggest we do something with it.”

Brandt’s acolyte interjected with concern. “You’re not fully ready for the world!”

Brandt grinned. “You’re a good acolyte of Reah, that’s for sure. But I feel a good bit of Bemme in that statement as well. Of course, Bemme’s love and compassion is nothing of which you should be ashamed. Either way, however, the truth is that in service to Reah we must seek justice first. We are fully healed, at least physically. We might be a good bit rusty and our joints a bit stiff, though. But it cannot be denied that our bodies have been restored completely through Reah’s might.”

The acolyte bowed in service and didn’t speak again. Ischarus was the next person to speak. “I can’t help but think of the irony in the numbers game. The wizard has seven information gatherers. Since Ophee has been brought to our side that number is now reduced to six. Counting Ophee and Brandt, there are six people deeply involved in thwarting the wizard. The numbers are even.”

Master Searthu cleared his throat. “Am I nothing next to Brandt’s might?” He grinned after making the comment and flashed a wide smile to Brandt.

Brandt took the opportunity to reply. “Actually, Searthu, you can play a significant role if you would be so kind. Someone is going to need to stay here and keep an eye on all the remaining six marks.”

Searthu nodded. “My magical sensors have been put on an automatic mode. They will signal me if there is any substantial change in location. For now, they will monitor their mark. I can view them whenever the need arises.”

Brandt nodded and bowed deeply at Master Seathu’s response. “Then, what I am about to suggest is a bit bold. But I think if we are going to strike quickly, we’re going to need a plan like the one that I am about to propose. I think we should split up and use teleportation magic.” 

Brandt’s acolyte breathed in deeply at the suggestion, but she made no comment. Brandt continued to expound upon his idea. “We aren’t going to have to look for a kill, and we’ll have surprise on our side. Our first priority would be to split up and convince the wizard’s servant’s to surrender to us and come to the temple. Assuming they don’t take that message kindly, our next objective would be to render them unconscious and bring them here for holding. Then we can counteract the brainwashing.”

Charis smiled, but it was Rhema who surprised everyone with the next comment. “I like the plan. It’s simple and direct. It has my vote.”

Ischarus was shocked as much as everyone else with the suggestion. “Rhema? Aren’t you usually the cautious one? I expected to have to jump in head first in my support and convince you that it was the best way.”

Rhema shook her head. “No, not this time. There is a time for caution, and this is not it. We’ve already given the wizard plenty of lead time to work his plan. He doesn’t know we are still alive. If we go after his servants one by one, he might notice. That’ll give him time to react. The only way that we can hope for complete success is to strike quickly and simultaneously at all points. It isn’t like me to support this idea, but it logic has merit.”

Master Searthu interjected a comment before anyone else could speak. “Well, my vision upon the wizard’s lackeys will last for another half of a day. I suggest you take no more than six hours preparing yourselves. Meet me in my office when you are ready to leave. Once we are all gathered, I’ll see to your coming and going.”

Semeion grinned mischievously. “Brandt, do you still have those magic rings that you allowed us to use when we needed to get to Bacrothen and the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains? If we had those, the four of us could bring ourselves back. Assuming that you could bring yourself back, it would leave only Ophee for Master Searthu to concern himself over. That would no doubt make his job easier.”

Brandt’s face jumped with excitement. “An excellent suggestion, Semeion. The rings are back at my house, but I can easily retrieve them in our time frame. And, that leaves supplies and assignments to be discussed.”

Master Searthu stepped to the door. “If I may, I will excuse myself and return to my office. It will be easier to monitor my magic without the distractions of conversation.”

The party nodded and waited for Master Searthu to leave before continuing. Once he was gone, Charis rose from Ophee’s bed and turned back to Ophee in order to speak to her. “Ophee, you’ve seen us in action. I think you should be the one to assign us our duties. You know your counterparts in the other cities and hopefully their weaknesses.”

The party concurred, and Ophee began to ponder the assignments. “Well, three of them don’t take much thought at all. I’d like to go to Partuss. I know Eliah the best, and he is the one I’ll be most successful in convincing. The most advanced of the wizard’s employ is Jerome in Eberdeen. He’s also the most likely to be protected under my former master’s magic. I’d recommend Brandt pursue him. Finally, I’d think that sending Semeion after Barra in Classo would make sense. She’s an oaf, and I don’t use that term lightly.”

Semeion looked a bit confused. “You plan on sending my fragile frame after someone who is an oaf? By oaf, I assume that you mean the muscle-bound kind?”

Ophee smiled pleasantly. “Yes. Barra is all muscle and no mind. Your magic should be quite effective against her, assuming that you can take her by surprise. I would recommend direct conflict rather than persuasion. She’s not likely to listen anyway, and if you try to talk first you’ll just give up your surprise.”

Charis smiled at Semeion. “Just remember, the greatest tree can be felled with a small axe. It’s all in who holds the axe. You can do it!”

Ophee continued with the assignments. “Well, that leaves Charis, Rhema, and Ischarus. Rhema, you would probably do well against Ehre in Reignsburg. She’s a bit of a follower, and your persuasiveness might do well against her. I’d suggest sending Ischarus against Darr in Juniper, just because I don’t see any way that one isn’t going to end in a fight. I suppose then that leaves Charis against Haroth in Bacrothen. You’ll do alright, I’m sure. Although be prepared for a fight as well. My former master was no fool. He put his strongest and most loyal servants in the largest cities. Those are the duties that fell to Brandt, Ischarus, and Charis.”

Charis smiled and put a reaffirming hand on Ophee’s shoulder. “It sounds as though you’ve done well in giving us your suggestions. Now we just need to get prepared and get to Master Searthu’s office.”

Brandt opened the door. “If you’ll follow me, all of you, I’ll take you to where your possessions are being stored.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 27, 2007)

*Chapter Nine: ESSENTIAL FACULTIES*

Charis knew the world was wavering around her.  She had done this several times before, and by now it had become routine.  The feeling of disorientation would only last a half of a second if she kept her eyes closed.  For her, the secret to minimizing the teleportation weakness was not watching it happen.

They had met in Master Searthu’s office.  The priest of Reah had a small ring of crystal balls which apparently acted as routers for the spells that he was using to see Ophee’s equivalents in the various cities of Tongra.  The crystal balls reflected the arcane sight perfectly and allowed the six travelers to familiarize themselves with the location to which they were headed.

Charis knew that she was teleporting into a back alley behind the building that her mark was living in.  He didn’t currently appear to be involved in the work of the wizard, and as far as Master Searthu and Charis could determine Haroth was actually in his apartment.  Bacrothen was a large enough city that Haroth would not likely work in the same space as he lived.

Charis ran through the mental checklist as she opened her eyes and realized that she was in the back alley.  The magic that dwelled inside of her pulsed with each beat of her heart.  As her footsteps lead her to the side of the building, her body released adrenaline and her heart rate increased even more.  Her right hand slipped to her side and felt the handle of the war hammer dangling from her belt.  Her left hand felt the corresponding location along the opposite side of her belt and felt the leather grip of her favorite weapon.  “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Charis closed her eyes as she approached the front of the building and offered a short prayer of blessing.  “May Bemme protect us both, and may Reah lead Haroth to the light of understanding.”

She opened her eyes once more and turned the corner.  She left the darkness of the alley behind her and quickly strolled to the front door of the building.  Master Searthu had already used his arcane sight to make sure that the door was not locked, so when the door opened easily under Charis’ touch she was not surprised.  Her eyes quickly found the stairs and she ascended them in pairs.

At the top of the stairs she spun on her heels quickly and found the door that she was looking for.  “Apartment five.  Here we have Haroth’s current residence.”  She breathed in deeply before curling her fingers into a fist and using her knuckles to rap against the wooden door.  The door was solid.

There was a tired reply from the other side of the door.  “Hold on, I’m coming.”  Heavy footsteps approached the opposite side of the door where Charis stood.

The door jerked open, and a large man stood on the opposite side of the threshold.  His eyes looked over Charis and he grunted.  “I don’t need no saleswoman, lady.”

Charis smiled, and tried to remain diplomatic.  “Well, perhaps not.  But it sounds as though someone to help you with your grammar might not be a bad idea.  But that isn’t why I’m here, either.”

The man sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Make it quick, lady.  It’s my day off, and I’m trying to enjoy it by catching up on some sleep.”

Charis continued to smile.  “Is that the job that you do on behalf of the wizard in Eberdeen?”

She could tell that her question had caught the man off guard.  His eyes looked more seriously upon the woman standing before him.  He realized that she was well armed and looked as though she knew how to use what dangled from her belt.  “What’s this about, lady?”

The smile vanished from Charis’ face.  “I know one of your associates.  Your master in Eberdeen has no doubt a spoken of her.  She goes by the name Opheiluka, and she does in Fignerdale what you do here for the wizard.”

Haroth stepped backwards one step.  “So what does this have to do with me?  You got a problem with Opheiluka, seek her out.  You got a problem with her master, go through her.”

The grin returned to Charis’ face.  So far, she was actually enjoying this.  She liked being able to keep Haroth off his guard by revealing information that she knew about his line of work.  “My problem isn’t with Opheiluka.  I’m actually quite concerned about you, to be honest.  You see, my associates discovered that Opheiluka had been brainwashed by the wizard that you serve.”

The man looked into Charis’ eyes.  His focus narrowed.  With a sudden flash of speed his hand reached behind the door and his body spun around.  His hand held a kukri, and the sharp inner blade caught the outside of Charis’ arm.  The handle of the kukri was thick and made of some kind of engraved white horn.  Were it not for the man’s skill at weilding the sharp weapon, the blade would have appeared entirely ceremonial if hung from a wall.  The thick false edge of the weapon glistened as the man followed through with the attack.

Charis stepped back into the hallway and began to cast a spell.  Her heart leapt with excitement as the blade was brought forth.  She had been hoping that violence would not have been necessary, but she couldn’t deny enjoying the thrill of combat.  “Daancrah Pashor Shintar.”  She knew that the spell would take a moment to resolve itself, and she would have to be careful in splitting her concentration between the spell and her opponent.

Haroth pursued Charis into the hallway, and the narrowness of the area meant that Charis didn’t have many places to run.  Turning her back to Haroth and descending down the stairs was simply not an option.  Haroth easily closed the distance that she had put between them and he slashed again with the elongated and bent knife.  Once more the blade caught Charis and drew blood.  Fortunately, Charis had braced herself against the blow and was able to continue to focus on the developing spell.

Charis stepped backwards once more and found herself against the wall.  As soon as she moved, her earlier spell resolved and the magical energy brought three golden beetles into existence.  The beetles that had been conjured into existence were no simple garden variety of beetles, however.  Each of these beetles likely weighed thirty pounds or more, and their thick shells glistened with a faint pale glow.  

One of the beetles appeared between Haroth and Charis, while the other two appeared behind him.  Each of the beetles jumped up to use their strong jaws to latch onto his midsection, but only one was able to bite hard.  Haroth managed to fend off the other two attacking beetles with quick use of the flat part of the elongated blade as a shield.

Charis knew that the Haroth’s attack on her had twice been successful, but she was not yet worried about her injuries.  They were only flesh wounds at this point.  In a bit of an unusual tactic for Charis, rather than pull out her hammer or pick she pulled the composite bow off of her back.  In an instant she had an arrow knocked on the string.  The arrow flew through the air and clipped the man in his shoulder.  The blow was no worse than the pair he had already given to her.  The arrow stuck out from his shoulder as if she had shot it into a bail of hay.

Haroth slashed at the beetle between himself and Charis, and his thick blade managed to catch the beetle between two of the protective pieces of chitin on its back.  The armor of the beetle was strong enough to keep the blade of the kukri from digger in far enough to puncture any vital organs.  As he attacked, Haroth growled at Charis.  “You were supposed to be dead, you slave trading fiend!  People who do what you do in life do not deserve to live!”

The beetles attempted to strike once more, and again only one of the beetles managed to land a successful blow.  As the beetles jumped to Haroth and were aggressively repelled, Charis’ mind churned with Haroth’s words.  It appeared the he had been fed the same lie about the party as Ophee.

Charis replied again, holding the draw of another arrow into a ready position to strike.  “I do not traffic slaves!  Ophee was told the same lie, and she has since come into the truth.  Lay down your blade and I’ll call off my beetles and refrain from firing upon you!”

Haroth paused, taking inventory of the fact that the battle had not gone well for him.  He lifted the blade into the air slowly and raised both hands above his head.  The beetles relaxed in posture the second that they were no longer threatened by Haroth’s blade.

Charis smiled at the beetles and knelt to the ground.  She continued to speak to Haroth, however.  “I serve Bemme, and to a lesser extent, Reah.  You should be able to tell that much by the glow of my friends here.  I am not a force of evil; my friends and I are a force of good that has been manipulated like you to serve the wizard in Eberdeen.  If you give me your blade, I will tend your wounds and demonstrate my servitude to Bemme and Reah.”

Haroth slowly knelt to the ground and slid his blade towards Charis.  “You have bested me in combat, anyway.  To continue would have only brought death.”

Charis lifted the blade off of the ground and slipped it underneath her belt in a fashion that didn’t risk the edge slicing through the belt.  She looked to the beetles and spoke to them.  “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah: you have served me well.  Please give my regards to Bemme as I send you back.  I appreciate your coming to my need and leaving the service of our goddess for a short time.”  Charis closed her eyes and the beetles blinked out of existence.

Haroth looked to Charis.  “Is Opheiluka still alive?  She is with you?”

Charis rose to her feet and slowly approached Haroth.  “She is, although we all almost died at the wizard’s hands.  Once I have healed your wounds I would like to take you to see her.”

Haroth rose to his feet and held his hands out as an indication that he didn’t plan to struggle any more.  Charis had free access to the wounds from the beetles and the arrow shaft.  She reached for the arrow shaft, but Haroth pulled away.

The man spoke quickly as he jerked backwards.  “If it is all the same to you, I’ll do it myself.  Then you can heal me.”

Charis shrugged; it didn’t matter to her who inflicted the pain of removing the arrow.  Haroth clenched his teeth and pulled the shaft of the arrow straight out from his shoulder.  He never spoke a sound, although the look on his face told Charis that the act was quite painful.

Charis reached up with her hand and once more called upon her magical power.  This time her magic was not used in self-defense.  It was time for her magic to heal a wound before it could fester.  Charis couldn’t help but smile as she hoped her healing of the physical body would go far in healing the domination that the wizard had over Haroth.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”  The familiar yellow glow passed from her hands and into Haroth’s wounds.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Nine: ESSENTIAL FACULTIES

Charis knew the world was wavering around her. She had done this several times before, and by now it had become routine. The feeling of disorientation would only last a half of a second if she kept her eyes closed. For her, the secret to minimizing the teleportation weakness was not watching it happen.

They had met in Master Searthu’s office. The priest of Reah had a small ring of crystal balls which apparently acted as routers for the spells that he was using to see Ophee’s equivalents in the various cities of Tongra. The crystal balls reflected the arcane sight perfectly and allowed the six travelers to familiarize themselves with the location to which they were headed.

Charis knew that she was teleporting into a back alley behind the building that her mark was living in. He didn’t currently appear to be involved in the work of the wizard, and as far as Master Searthu and Charis could determine Haroth was actually in his apartment. Bacrothen was a large enough city that Haroth would not likely work in the same space as he lived.

Charis ran through the mental checklist as she opened her eyes and realized that she was in the back alley. The magic that dwelled inside of her pulsed with each beat of her heart. As her footsteps lead her to the side of the building, her body released adrenaline and her heart rate increased even more. Her right hand slipped to her side and felt the handle of the war hammer dangling from her belt. Her left hand felt the corresponding location along the opposite side of her belt and felt the leather grip of her favorite weapon. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Charis closed her eyes as she approached the front of the building and offered a short prayer of blessing. “May Bemme protect us both, and may Reah lead Haroth to the light of understanding.”

She opened her eyes once more and turned the corner. She left the darkness of the alley behind her and quickly strolled to the front door of the building. Master Searthu had already used his arcane sight to make sure that the door was not locked, so when the door opened easily under Charis’ touch she was not surprised. Her eyes quickly found the stairs and she ascended them in pairs.

At the top of the stairs she spun on her heels quickly and found the door that she was looking for. “Apartment five. Here we have Haroth’s current residence.” She breathed in deeply before curling her fingers into a fist and using her knuckles to rap against the wooden door. The door was solid.

There was a tired reply from the other side of the door. “Hold on, I’m coming.” Heavy footsteps approached the opposite side of the door where Charis stood.

The door jerked open, and a large man stood on the opposite side of the threshold. His eyes looked over Charis and he grunted. “I don’t need no saleswoman, lady.”

Charis smiled, and tried to remain diplomatic. “Well, perhaps not. But it sounds as though someone to help you with your grammar might not be a bad idea. But that isn’t why I’m here, either.”

The man sighed and rolled his eyes. “Make it quick, lady. It’s my day off, and I’m trying to enjoy it by catching up on some sleep.”

Charis continued to smile. “Is that the job that you do on behalf of the wizard in Eberdeen?”

She could tell that her question had caught the man off guard. His eyes looked more seriously upon the woman standing before him. He realized that she was well armed and looked as though she knew how to use what dangled from her belt. “What’s this about, lady?”

The smile vanished from Charis’ face. “I know one of your associates. Your master in Eberdeen has no doubt a spoken of her. She goes by the name Opheiluka, and she does in Fignerdale what you do here for the wizard.”

Haroth stepped backwards one step. “So what does this have to do with me? You got a problem with Opheiluka, seek her out. You got a problem with her master, go through her.”

The grin returned to Charis’ face. So far, she was actually enjoying this. She liked being able to keep Haroth off his guard by revealing information that she knew about his line of work. “My problem isn’t with Opheiluka. I’m actually quite concerned about you, to be honest. You see, my associates discovered that Opheiluka had been brainwashed by the wizard that you serve.”

The man looked into Charis’ eyes. His focus narrowed. With a sudden flash of speed his hand reached behind the door and his body spun around. His hand held a kukri, and the sharp inner blade caught the outside of Charis’ arm. The handle of the kukri was thick and made of some kind of engraved white horn. Were it not for the man’s skill at weilding the sharp weapon, the blade would have appeared entirely ceremonial if hung from a wall. The thick false edge of the weapon glistened as the man followed through with the attack.

Charis stepped back into the hallway and began to cast a spell. Her heart leapt with excitement as the blade was brought forth. She had been hoping that violence would not have been necessary, but she couldn’t deny enjoying the thrill of combat. “Daancrah Pashor Shintar.” She knew that the spell would take a moment to resolve itself, and she would have to be careful in splitting her concentration between the spell and her opponent.

Haroth pursued Charis into the hallway, and the narrowness of the area meant that Charis didn’t have many places to run. Turning her back to Haroth and descending down the stairs was simply not an option. Haroth easily closed the distance that she had put between them and he slashed again with the elongated and bent knife. Once more the blade caught Charis and drew blood. Fortunately, Charis had braced herself against the blow and was able to continue to focus on the developing spell.

Charis stepped backwards once more and found herself against the wall. As soon as she moved, her earlier spell resolved and the magical energy brought three golden beetles into existence. The beetles that had been conjured into existence were no simple garden variety of beetles, however. Each of these beetles likely weighed thirty pounds or more, and their thick shells glistened with a faint pale glow. 

One of the beetles appeared between Haroth and Charis, while the other two appeared behind him. Each of the beetles jumped up to use their strong jaws to latch onto his midsection, but only one was able to bite hard. Haroth managed to fend off the other two attacking beetles with quick use of the flat part of the elongated blade as a shield.

Charis knew that the Haroth’s attack on her had twice been successful, but she was not yet worried about her injuries. They were only flesh wounds at this point. In a bit of an unusual tactic for Charis, rather than pull out her hammer or pick she pulled the composite bow off of her back. In an instant she had an arrow knocked on the string. The arrow flew through the air and clipped the man in his shoulder. The blow was no worse than the pair he had already given to her. The arrow stuck out from his shoulder as if she had shot it into a bail of hay.

Haroth slashed at the beetle between himself and Charis, and his thick blade managed to catch the beetle between two of the protective pieces of chitin on its back. The armor of the beetle was strong enough to keep the blade of the kukri from digger in far enough to puncture any vital organs. As he attacked, Haroth growled at Charis. “You were supposed to be dead, you slave trading fiend! People who do what you do in life do not deserve to live!”

The beetles attempted to strike once more, and again only one of the beetles managed to land a successful blow. As the beetles jumped to Haroth and were aggressively repelled, Charis’ mind churned with Haroth’s words. It appeared the he had been fed the same lie about the party as Ophee.

Charis replied again, holding the draw of another arrow into a ready position to strike. “I do not traffic slaves! Ophee was told the same lie, and she has since come into the truth. Lay down your blade and I’ll call off my beetles and refrain from firing upon you!”

Haroth paused, taking inventory of the fact that the battle had not gone well for him. He lifted the blade into the air slowly and raised both hands above his head. The beetles relaxed in posture the second that they were no longer threatened by Haroth’s blade.

Charis smiled at the beetles and knelt to the ground. She continued to speak to Haroth, however. “I serve Bemme, and to a lesser extent, Reah. You should be able to tell that much by the glow of my friends here. I am not a force of evil; my friends and I are a force of good that has been manipulated like you to serve the wizard in Eberdeen. If you give me your blade, I will tend your wounds and demonstrate my servitude to Bemme and Reah.”

Haroth slowly knelt to the ground and slid his blade towards Charis. “You have bested me in combat, anyway. To continue would have only brought death.”

Charis lifted the blade off of the ground and slipped it underneath her belt in a fashion that didn’t risk the edge slicing through the belt. She looked to the beetles and spoke to them. “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah: you have served me well. Please give my regards to Bemme as I send you back. I appreciate your coming to my need and leaving the service of our goddess for a short time.” Charis closed her eyes and the beetles blinked out of existence.

Haroth looked to Charis. “Is Opheiluka still alive? She is with you?”

Charis rose to her feet and slowly approached Haroth. “She is, although we all almost died at the wizard’s hands. Once I have healed your wounds I would like to take you to see her.”

Haroth rose to his feet and held his hands out as an indication that he didn’t plan to struggle any more. Charis had free access to the wounds from the beetles and the arrow shaft. She reached for the arrow shaft, but Haroth pulled away.

The man spoke quickly as he jerked backwards. “If it is all the same to you, I’ll do it myself. Then you can heal me.”

Charis shrugged; it didn’t matter to her who inflicted the pain of removing the arrow. Haroth clenched his teeth and pulled the shaft of the arrow straight out from his shoulder. He never spoke a sound, although the look on his face told Charis that the act was quite painful.

Charis reached up with her hand and once more called upon her magical power. This time her magic was not used in self-defense. It was time for her magic to heal a wound before it could fester. Charis couldn’t help but smile as she hoped her healing of the physical body would go far in healing the domination that the wizard had over Haroth. “Bondras-tol Egro.” The familiar yellow glow passed from her hands and into Haroth’s wounds.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (May 29, 2007)

Ophee had used the crystal ball to find direct path into Partuss and to the bakery near to which Eliah was working.  Once she had the route memorized she had Master Searthu teleport her just outside the city limits.  Partuss wasn’t a large enough town that walking in would take too long.  It would be much easier to not arouse suspicion if she entered the city from the outside than if she had appeared in a back alley like Charis.

She had little trouble finding the bakery.  She hadn’t often visited Partuss on her ways to and from Eberdeen, but she had visited it often enough to know where to find the bakery.  In order to mask her approach, however, Ophee had Master Searthu teleport her to the less populated northern side of the city.  Thus, while she knew where to find the bakery within the city, she was not familiar with the path that she had taken onto the city this time.

Once she found the bakery, she checked inside to see if Eliah had moved from the office to the bakery.  The bakery had several patrons inside, but none of them were the red haired, pointy eared man that she sought.  Nodding to herself, she turned to the building beside the bakery and found Eliah’s office.

Her knuckles wrapped solidly on the door.  “Eliah, it’s Ophee.  Open up.”

From behind the closed door Ophee could hear a wooden chair hit the ground.  She had apparently caught Eliah leaning back and startled him.  Only seconds later the door opened quickly.  “Ophee?  But, we were told that you were dead!  Our master pulled us all back to Eberdeen a few days ago and gave us the news.  He told us that you had been killed while stopping an underground slave ring.”

Ophee smiled sarcastically.  “The reports of my death have been largely over-exaggerated.”

Eliah laughed at Ophee’s facial expression and comment.  “Well, obviously.”

Ophee’s lips parted into a full smile.  “No, Eliah, you don’t really understand.  Much has been exaggerated.  There is no slave ring at all.  It was a lie.  I need to step inside and tell you.”

Eliah’s smile vanished.  “Careful, Opheiluka.  You’re trespassing on the sacred ground of employment now.  You know the ties and obligations that bind us together.  And you know the bondage of the oath of loyalty that we each are expected to hold up with our master.”

Ophee shook her head from side to side.  “Eliah, I need to come in.  We need to talk, but I’m not talking here in the hallway.  It’s just not safe.  Someone might overhear.’

Eliah’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Ophee.  From her perspective, it appeared as though his hair grew in reddish intensity, although in truth it was the reddening of his facial skin from the increased blood pressure.  “Okay, come in and we’ll talk.  But promise that you are aware that I take my oaths seriously.”

Ophee nodded in agreement and accepted his invitation.  Once she was inside, Ophee turned to Eliah and replied.  “Oh, I take my oaths seriously as well.  I am loyal to those who demonstrate they desire my loyalty by remaining loyal to me.  We’ve been lied to by the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Eliah nearly spat as he replied quickly to Ophee’s accusations.  “You’d better explain that accusation quickly, Ophee.  Our master has been very good to us.  We’re paid well, and so long as we do what we are asked he doesn’t get rid of us.  Our tasks aren’t even that hard.  It’s a nice job, Ophee.  Don’t make me report you in anger rather than reporting with joy to our master that you are still alive.”

Ophee smiled sarcastically once more.  “He was satisfied with my death, remember?  With all his ability to glean information through us and magic, don’t you think he should have been able to find out if I was alive?”  Ophee knew that the temple had been shielded from the wizard in Eberdeen, but she also knew that he had the magic to turn the destroyed barn upside down in the process of looking for remains as well.  He had accepted her death far too easily for Ophee’s tastes.

Eliah paused for a moment before replying.  “I suppose, but he was grieving, Ophee.  You were like a daughter to him.”

Ophee closed her eyes at the memory.  She had once felt as if he truly loved her like a father would love a daughter.  Now she simply felt betrayed, like a slave who found out that the master’s love was solely based on possession and her ability to be productive.  Suddenly she realized that she understood Charis’ past so much better.  “You were told that I was killed in the process of destroying a slave ring?”  Ophee’s mood and tone had changed.  She didn’t want to express the emotion inside of her, so her words come out flat.

Eliah nodded.  “We were.  We were told that our master was attempting to snuff out a slave ring that he had discovered, and they were operating through Fingerdale.  We were told that he had equipped you with a few magical items.  Our master said that he had given you the ability to shield yourself from lesser magic.  He said that he had also given you the ability to destroy them in a powerful fire.  He swore that the item that protected you from lesser magic had been designed to protect you from the same slaughtering fire that would destroy the slavers.”

Ophee laughed.  “So how did your master explain my death?  If I was protected from everything, how did I die?”

Eliah shrugged his shoulders.  “He was very distraught, Ophee.  His emotions were blocking his thinking.  He said that he didn’t know.”

Ophee laughed at the thought.  “When has there ever been anything that your master didn’t know when he would bring us in from the field?  Do you honestly believe that your master didn’t know something, especially if it involved someone he supposedly loved like a daughter?”

Eliah swallowed hard.  “I don’t know.  Like I said, he was upset, Ophee.”

Ophee used her left hand to crack the knuckles in her right hand in one swift motion.  “Oh, I don’t doubt that he was upset, Eliah.  He was upset because he had lost a slave.  I might yet die in the process of destroying a slave ring, but it was no slave ring that he sent me up against.”

Eliah stood up in an agitated fashion, but Ophee merely leaned back in her chair in response.  “Oh, sit back down, Eliah.  I can explain myself.  Why don’t you quite feeling defensive and just listen?  If what I say to you doesn’t make sense, I’ll leave.”

Eliah breathed in deeply and then slowly exhaled.  “Fine.  I’ll sit back down.  But you had better have a good story.”

Ophee brought her lips together tightly and thought for several seconds before speaking.  As she thought, her head began to bob back and forth and her eyes looked as though they would cry, although they never did bring forth tears.  “Listen, Eliah.  I’ve recently discovered that our master manipulates the truth that he gives to us.  And he does it through very disreputable means.  He does it through brainwashing.  Can I assume that when you come in for training he always starts with a cup of hot tea as you sit and talk on the sofas in his office?”

Eliah nodded, but didn’t respond.  Once Ophee saw the nod, she continued.  “I was recently sent on a mission into Quehalost to retrieve a substance called Black Arum.  It is also known as Arum Dracunculus, the Stink Lily, and even the Voodoo Lily.  The reason it has the last name is because when an excretion from the roots is combined with a bit of magic a toxin is developed.  This toxin makes the mind quite pliable.  The toxin was probably slipped into our tea, so that your master could implant suggestions while we thought we were being trained.  I know that he does it because of the story I’m going to tell you.  I collected the Vodoo Lily for him, and didn’t know what I was doing until it was used on me!”

Ophee paused, but Eliah didn’t take the opportunity to ask any questions.  Ophee continued her story.  “You see, the last time I was brought in for training I was told that I was to seek out and find a slave ring.  When I had found the slave ring I was supposed to contact the wizard with information.  But he never told me about the magic items with which he had equipped me.  He set me up.  He only gave me part of the information consciously.  The rest of the information he slipped into my mind while I was under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Once more Ophee paused, and this time she could tell that her story was affecting Eliah.  His eyes told her that the seeds of doubt had been sowed.  “Eliah, what I am about to tell you is the truth.  You see, the wizard put a secret command word into my brain.  When the command word was triggered, I lost control of my ability to make my own decisions.  When the command word was triggered, I activated a magic ring that I didn’t even know how to use!  That right there is proof that I was brainwashed!  I nearly slaughtered my friends because the wizard had set me up and wanted them dead.  The same friends who had helped him collect the Arum Dracunculus in Quehalost were set up by the wizard to be executed at my hands and without my ability to choose otherwise.”

Eliah swallowed hard and decided to speak at this moment.  “So, if the wizard’s plan went off as desired, why did weren’t you protected?  How did you discover what you are claiming?”

Ophee smiled at the thought of her friends who were at this very moment scattered around the nation of Tongra telling this very same story to her associates.  “The wizard didn’t expect me to be with a significant follower of Reah.  That one was able to barely withstand the magic ring that the wizard had given to me.  He was able to conjure up a spell that penetrated the shielding that the wizard had used to protect me.  Seconds later, when we were all dying, acolytes of Reah showed up and brought us back to safety within their temple.  They were able to piece together what happened.  When I was revived several days later, they could tell that my memories did not include the act of destruction that I had initiated.  Once they determined that I was brainwashed, it was a matter of research and magical testing to find out how it happened.  That’s how we learned about the use of the Voodoo Lily.”

Eliah opened his lips to speak, but the words didn’t come.  Instead, a single tear trickled down his left check and moistened his goatee.  His eyes glanced in the direction of Ophee, but they were focused as if he were looking through her into the unknown.

Ophee grimaced as she empathized with Eliah’s pain.  “I know, Eliah.  I know what it is like to realize that we’ve been serving a wizard faithfully, but the wizard hasn’t been faithful in return.  I know what it is like to realize that at least once I have done something without memory of doing it.  I also am faced with the possibility that this is not the first time I have done something without my knowledge.  And I know that I am nearly responsible for the death of four of my friends, and I could do nothing to stop it.  I know.”

Eliah swallowed hard.  “Can the temple of Reah determine if I have been under the effect of Arum Dracunculus?  I’d like to know.  I’d like to know the truth.”

Ophee smiled and rose to her feet.  She knelt beside her friend and placed a hand upon his knee.  “We can see.  Will you come with me?”

Eliah looked up to Ophee and nodded.  Together the rose to their feet and turned to the door.  They would seek out the whole truth, together.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ophee had used the crystal ball to find direct path into Partuss and to the bakery near to which Eliah was working. Once she had the route memorized she had Master Searthu teleport her just outside the city limits. Partuss wasn’t a large enough town that walking in would take too long. It would be much easier to not arouse suspicion if she entered the city from the outside than if she had appeared in a back alley like Charis.

She had little trouble finding the bakery. She hadn’t often visited Partuss on her ways to and from Eberdeen, but she had visited it often enough to know where to find the bakery. In order to mask her approach, however, Ophee had Master Searthu teleport her to the less populated northern side of the city. Thus, while she knew where to find the bakery within the city, she was not familiar with the path that she had taken onto the city this time.

Once she found the bakery, she checked inside to see if Eliah had moved from the office to the bakery. The bakery had several patrons inside, but none of them were the red haired, pointy eared man that she sought. Nodding to herself, she turned to the building beside the bakery and found Eliah’s office.

Her knuckles wrapped solidly on the door. “Eliah, it’s Ophee. Open up.”

From behind the closed door Ophee could hear a wooden chair hit the ground. She had apparently caught Eliah leaning back and startled him. Only seconds later the door opened quickly. “Ophee? But, we were told that you were dead! Our master pulled us all back to Eberdeen a few days ago and gave us the news. He told us that you had been killed while stopping an underground slave ring.”

Ophee smiled sarcastically. “The reports of my death have been largely over-exaggerated.”

Eliah laughed at Ophee’s facial expression and comment. “Well, obviously.”

Ophee’s lips parted into a full smile. “No, Eliah, you don’t really understand. Much has been exaggerated. There is no slave ring at all. It was a lie. I need to step inside and tell you.”

Eliah’s smile vanished. “Careful, Opheiluka. You’re trespassing on the sacred ground of employment now. You know the ties and obligations that bind us together. And you know the bondage of the oath of loyalty that we each are expected to hold up with our master.”

Ophee shook her head from side to side. “Eliah, I need to come in. We need to talk, but I’m not talking here in the hallway. It’s just not safe. Someone might overhear.’

Eliah’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Ophee. From her perspective, it appeared as though his hair grew in reddish intensity, although in truth it was the reddening of his facial skin from the increased blood pressure. “Okay, come in and we’ll talk. But promise that you are aware that I take my oaths seriously.”

Ophee nodded in agreement and accepted his invitation. Once she was inside, Ophee turned to Eliah and replied. “Oh, I take my oaths seriously as well. I am loyal to those who demonstrate they desire my loyalty by remaining loyal to me. We’ve been lied to by the wizard in Eberdeen.”

Eliah nearly spat as he replied quickly to Ophee’s accusations. “You’d better explain that accusation quickly, Ophee. Our master has been very good to us. We’re paid well, and so long as we do what we are asked he doesn’t get rid of us. Our tasks aren’t even that hard. It’s a nice job, Ophee. Don’t make me report you in anger rather than reporting with joy to our master that you are still alive.”

Ophee smiled sarcastically once more. “He was satisfied with my death, remember? With all his ability to glean information through us and magic, don’t you think he should have been able to find out if I was alive?” Ophee knew that the temple had been shielded from the wizard in Eberdeen, but she also knew that he had the magic to turn the destroyed barn upside down in the process of looking for remains as well. He had accepted her death far too easily for Ophee’s tastes.

Eliah paused for a moment before replying. “I suppose, but he was grieving, Ophee. You were like a daughter to him.”

Ophee closed her eyes at the memory. She had once felt as if he truly loved her like a father would love a daughter. Now she simply felt betrayed, like a slave who found out that the master’s love was solely based on possession and her ability to be productive. Suddenly she realized that she understood Charis’ past so much better. “You were told that I was killed in the process of destroying a slave ring?” Ophee’s mood and tone had changed. She didn’t want to express the emotion inside of her, so her words come out flat.

Eliah nodded. “We were. We were told that our master was attempting to snuff out a slave ring that he had discovered, and they were operating through Fingerdale. We were told that he had equipped you with a few magical items. Our master said that he had given you the ability to shield yourself from lesser magic. He said that he had also given you the ability to destroy them in a powerful fire. He swore that the item that protected you from lesser magic had been designed to protect you from the same slaughtering fire that would destroy the slavers.”

Ophee laughed. “So how did your master explain my death? If I was protected from everything, how did I die?”

Eliah shrugged his shoulders. “He was very distraught, Ophee. His emotions were blocking his thinking. He said that he didn’t know.”

Ophee laughed at the thought. “When has there ever been anything that your master didn’t know when he would bring us in from the field? Do you honestly believe that your master didn’t know something, especially if it involved someone he supposedly loved like a daughter?”

Eliah swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Like I said, he was upset, Ophee.”

Ophee used her left hand to crack the knuckles in her right hand in one swift motion. “Oh, I don’t doubt that he was upset, Eliah. He was upset because he had lost a slave. I might yet die in the process of destroying a slave ring, but it was no slave ring that he sent me up against.”

Eliah stood up in an agitated fashion, but Ophee merely leaned back in her chair in response. “Oh, sit back down, Eliah. I can explain myself. Why don’t you quite feeling defensive and just listen? If what I say to you doesn’t make sense, I’ll leave.”

Eliah breathed in deeply and then slowly exhaled. “Fine. I’ll sit back down. But you had better have a good story.”

Ophee brought her lips together tightly and thought for several seconds before speaking. As she thought, her head began to bob back and forth and her eyes looked as though they would cry, although they never did bring forth tears. “Listen, Eliah. I’ve recently discovered that our master manipulates the truth that he gives to us. And he does it through very disreputable means. He does it through brainwashing. Can I assume that when you come in for training he always starts with a cup of hot tea as you sit and talk on the sofas in his office?”

Eliah nodded, but didn’t respond. Once Ophee saw the nod, she continued. “I was recently sent on a mission into Quehalost to retrieve a substance called Black Arum. It is also known as Arum Dracunculus, the Stink Lily, and even the Voodoo Lily. The reason it has the last name is because when an excretion from the roots is combined with a bit of magic a toxin is developed. This toxin makes the mind quite pliable. The toxin was probably slipped into our tea, so that your master could implant suggestions while we thought we were being trained. I know that he does it because of the story I’m going to tell you. I collected the Vodoo Lily for him, and didn’t know what I was doing until it was used on me!”

Ophee paused, but Eliah didn’t take the opportunity to ask any questions. Ophee continued her story. “You see, the last time I was brought in for training I was told that I was to seek out and find a slave ring. When I had found the slave ring I was supposed to contact the wizard with information. But he never told me about the magic items with which he had equipped me. He set me up. He only gave me part of the information consciously. The rest of the information he slipped into my mind while I was under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Once more Ophee paused, and this time she could tell that her story was affecting Eliah. His eyes told her that the seeds of doubt had been sowed. “Eliah, what I am about to tell you is the truth. You see, the wizard put a secret command word into my brain. When the command word was triggered, I lost control of my ability to make my own decisions. When the command word was triggered, I activated a magic ring that I didn’t even know how to use! That right there is proof that I was brainwashed! I nearly slaughtered my friends because the wizard had set me up and wanted them dead. The same friends who had helped him collect the Arum Dracunculus in Quehalost were set up by the wizard to be executed at my hands and without my ability to choose otherwise.”

Eliah swallowed hard and decided to speak at this moment. “So, if the wizard’s plan went off as desired, why did weren’t you protected? How did you discover what you are claiming?”

Ophee smiled at the thought of her friends who were at this very moment scattered around the nation of Tongra telling this very same story to her associates. “The wizard didn’t expect me to be with a significant follower of Reah. That one was able to barely withstand the magic ring that the wizard had given to me. He was able to conjure up a spell that penetrated the shielding that the wizard had used to protect me. Seconds later, when we were all dying, acolytes of Reah showed up and brought us back to safety within their temple. They were able to piece together what happened. When I was revived several days later, they could tell that my memories did not include the act of destruction that I had initiated. Once they determined that I was brainwashed, it was a matter of research and magical testing to find out how it happened. That’s how we learned about the use of the Voodoo Lily.”

Eliah opened his lips to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, a single tear trickled down his left check and moistened his goatee. His eyes glanced in the direction of Ophee, but they were focused as if he were looking through her into the unknown.

Ophee grimaced as she empathized with Eliah’s pain. “I know, Eliah. I know what it is like to realize that we’ve been serving a wizard faithfully, but the wizard hasn’t been faithful in return. I know what it is like to realize that at least once I have done something without memory of doing it. I also am faced with the possibility that this is not the first time I have done something without my knowledge. And I know that I am nearly responsible for the death of four of my friends, and I could do nothing to stop it. I know.”

Eliah swallowed hard. “Can the temple of Reah determine if I have been under the effect of Arum Dracunculus? I’d like to know. I’d like to know the truth.”

Ophee smiled and rose to her feet. She knelt beside her friend and placed a hand upon his knee. “We can see. Will you come with me?”

Eliah looked up to Ophee and nodded. Together the rose to their feet and turned to the door. They would seek out the whole truth, together.
[/Sblock]


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## Mahtave (May 31, 2007)

Still reading, and still enjoying!


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## Nonlethal Force (May 31, 2007)

*Reply to Reader ... Not an Update.*



			
				Mahtave said:
			
		

> Still reading, and still enjoying!




Thanks for the reply!  I hope you are enjoying a bit of the solo action lately.  I've been wanting to showcase the individual over the group for some time.


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## Nonlethal Force (May 31, 2007)

Semeion twisted the ring on his finger and vanished from the inside of Master Seathu’s office.  The follower of Reah smiled as he looked into the crystal ball that held the vision of the arcane spying spell of Barra’s office in Classo.  He saw Semeion appear behind the tall and muscular woman.  Even through the curvature of the glass he could tell that Semeion was no physical match for Barra.  “May Reah protect him.”  Master Searthu paused for a moment of prayer and then watched the others perform their teleportation as well.

Semeion decided to speak before attacking.  He knew Ophee’s advice had been to strike before giving her a chance, but he couldn’t justify attacking a person without giving them a chance to choose to avoid conflict.  “Barra, I’ve something to tell you about your master in Eberdeen.”

The large woman jumped and spun around.  Semeion had obviously surprised her by magically teleporting into the room.  “Who are you, and how did you get into here?”

Semeion’s eyes grew wide as she rose to her feet and looked down upon him.  Even though he was only two inches shy of six feet in height, she still dominated over him by over eight inches.  “My name is Semeion, and there is something that you need to know about the wizard that you serve.”

Barra wasn’t in much of a mood to listen to anyone who had intruded upon her space.  Her hand reached across the desk and her fingers easily gripped the leather exterior covering the sheath which protected her blade.  In a second the woman had the blade drawn.  The handle of the sword was easily long enough to allow both of her massive sets of fingers to secure the blade.  “Nobody knows of my service to the wizard in Eberdeen except those that my master tells.  I don’t recognize you, so you better either explain yourself or I will slice your tiny, fragile frame in half.”

Semeion wasn’t about to take chances against a large blade, however.  “Barra, there is no need for the blade.  Put it down.”

Barra’s fingers clenched the weapon in preparation to strike.  Semeion was ready for the move.  He had assumed from Ophee’s description that Barra would resort to physical oppression to control a situation.  He wouldn’t let her use the weapon against him.  “Crang-d'hai Shintar”  He pointed toward her blade as she began to bring it forward in a low arc.  With the ceiling above her, she couldn’t use a powerful overhead swing like she had wanted.

The blade began to disintegrate as it swung through the air.  As the steel neared Semeion’s position it burst into millions of pieces each no bigger than a grain of sand.  The momentum of the swing carried these particles onto Semeion, but they did no harm to him.  He was covered in tiny steel fragments from the waist up, but he was uninjured.

For an instant, Barra was off balance.  The disappearance of the weight of the blade was enough to disrupt her motion.  She stumbled to her knee, and Semeion pounced on the opportunity.  “Barra, I don’t want to hurt you.  I want you to know and see the truth!  But if you force my hand, I can hurt you.”

Barra looked up to him and snarled.  Semeion had not managed to convince her to hold back her physical assault.  “You came in her as an unwelcome guest.  Don’t get on your high moral horse!”  She rose to her feet and focused upon Semeion’s position.

The young mage stepped back several steps in order to put a little bit of distance between him and the woman.  “I’m sorry, Barra, but you’ve forced my hand.”  He exhaled and then quickly replenished the air in his lungs.  “Zysh Shintar.”

A deep darkness flashed from the ends of Semeion’s fingers and lurched toward Barra’s eyes.  Although the darkness coated her head, Barra managed to shake her head and wipe her eyes with the webbing between her thumb and index finger.  As she wiped her face, the darkness fell to the ground.  

Barra shook her head once more and glared in Semeion’s direction.  “I can kill you without a sword, and your magic has no effect on me.  You had better hope that I don’t get my hands on you!”  She jumped in Semeion’s direction and unleashed a serious blow with her fists.  The woman’s strong fingers and knuckles cracked hard against Semeion’s jaw and brought blood out of his lower lip.

Semeion tasted the blood and stepped another moved away from the woman.  If he could stay out of reach, it would be much easier to use his magic.  He tried the spell once more.  His strategy depended upon the effect.  “Zysh Shintar.”

Once again the deep darkness leapt off of his fingers and lurched towards Barra’s face.  This time, the darkness focused upon her eyes.  The magical effect soaked into her eye sockets until the darkness had been absorbed and Barra could no longer see.

The woman was enraged.  “I can still tear your frame apart even if I can’t see you!  I know my office well and there is no place that you can hide!”  Her left fist struck out in a jab in the direction of Semeion, but the young mage managed to duck to the left and avoid to menacing blow.

Semeion sighed.  “Barra, I do not desire to injure you.  I have already blinded you and made your attacks much more difficult to land.  Submit to me, all I ask is that you listen.”  He slowly walked away from Barra, putting as much distance as possible between him and the woman.  He knew she could find him by the sound of his voice, but it would be an inaccurate science at best.

Barra growled against the voice whose owner she could not see.  “I’ll find you, wizard.”

Semeion nodded, and brought his lips together to display his disappointment with respect to Barra’s stubbornness.  “I was afraid of that, Barra.  Again, I apologize for what I am about to do to you.”  He knelt to the floor and stretched the fingers and palm of his left hand along the wooden floor.  “Thin Sooth Egro.” 

A small drop of oil formed along Semeion’s middle finger and spread across the floor to underneath the spot where Barra stood.  Barra couldn’t see the magical effect approaching, and as she stepped towards Semeion her feet lost traction and she fell to the ground.  Her large frame landed on the floor solidly.  She tried to bring herself to her feet, but she was unable to lift herself onto her knees before Semeion was in position for another magical strike.

The young mage rose to his feet and looked with pity upon the tall woman who had been brought to the floor.  The fall looked quite painful, although fortunately there had been nothing below her upon which she could land.  “Your master betrayed you, Barra.  Your master has been using you without your knowledge.  You have been brainwashed and have committed acts without even remembering them.  I can prove it to you.”

Barra spat upon the floor as she struggled to get to her feet.  She couldn’t overcome the slickness of the magical substance beneath her.  “My master has done no such thing.  I would remember!”

Semeion smirked.  Barra was demonstrating her ignorance of magic in that statement.  “Then I will prove it you.  My next spell won’t hurt anything except your pride.”  The young mage snickered as he saw Barra freeze in response to his words.  She was trying to brace herself against his attack.  “Skrie Egro.”

A small ray of pale green light flowed from the outstretched fingers of his right hand and surrounded Barra.  Gradually, Barra’s size began to shrink until her six and a half foot tall frame was now only a touch over three feet in height.  She had been reduced to a diminutive size, barely taller than the merchant who had taught Rhema her mental powers.  Now it was Semeion who dominated over Barra in size, although with her blindness she could not see for herself.

Barra could feel the effect of the spell, however.  She could feel her size reducing and sliding over the floor beneath her.  In spite of her struggle, she could not resist the effect.  She howled in rage, but still could not manage to bring herself to her feet.

Semeion looked down upon the woman once more with sympathy.  “This would have been much easier if you would have been willing to listen in the beginning, Barra.  Now you have been blinded, coated in grease, and reduced to a simple fraction of yourself.  How long will this need to continue?  When will you see my purpose for coming here?  I don’t want to hurt you, but I am determined that you should be confronted with the truth.”

Barra shook her head.  “You had better work fast, wizard.  You magic will not hold its effect for much longer.  Once your magic wears off, I will hurt you.  What will you be like when you can no longer depend on the limited resources of your magic?  My strength never leaves.  It can only be suppressed for short times by your tricks.”

Semeion nodded.  Perhaps that was the first thing that she had said all day that he agreed with.  “Very well, Barra.  I had hoped to demonstrate that you could be beaten and have you be conscious of it.  But, perhaps the only way to prove my point is to convert you.  Your master beat your mind rather easily, I would imagine.  My own magic should be able to duplicate his effect.  In fact, you should be growing weary of hearing my voice right now.  You should be growing tired just listening to my words.  You should be growing mesmerized by the ever increasing monotony in my tone.  Thin Umaam Egro.”

Barra offered no reply.  In fact, she ceased struggling against the slick substance upon the floor.  She merely lay in the grease, facing the direction of Semeion’s voice.  It was as though her ability to choose was no longer a part of her conscious mind.

Semeion could tell instantly that his attempt to hypnotize her by the use of his voice had worked.  “Barra, in a second, I am going to remove the spell that caused your floor to be slick.  I want you to remain lying upon the ground.  Then I am going to come over to you and teleport you to see Ophee and the other people the wizard in Eberdeen has in his employ.  Do you think this is a wise idea?  Would you like to go with me to learn the truth?”

Barra nodded.  “Yes.”  Her voice was soft and flat as if it were flowing out of her unconscious mind.  “I will go with you.”

Semeion allowed his mind to release the slick oil upon the floor, and the magic vanished instantly.  Barra did not move as Semeion approached.  As he knelt to the ground, he turned to the location that Master Searthu had placed his arcane sensor.  “I’m coming back.  Make sure there are a few acolytes able to restrain her.”  He touched Barra on the shoulder and twisted the ring that Brandt had given him.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion twisted the ring on his finger and vanished from the inside of Master Seathu’s office. The follower of Reah smiled as he looked into the crystal ball that held the vision of the arcane spying spell of Barra’s office in Classo. He saw Semeion appear behind the tall and muscular woman. Even through the curvature of the glass he could tell that Semeion was no physical match for Barra. “May Reah protect him.” Master Searthu paused for a moment of prayer and then watched the others perform their teleportation as well.

Semeion decided to speak before attacking. He knew Ophee’s advice had been to strike before giving her a chance, but he couldn’t justify attacking a person without giving them a chance to choose to avoid conflict. “Barra, I’ve something to tell you about your master in Eberdeen.”

The large woman jumped and spun around. Semeion had obviously surprised her by magically teleporting into the room. “Who are you, and how did you get into here?”

Semeion’s eyes grew wide as she rose to her feet and looked down upon him. Even though he was only two inches shy of six feet in height, she still dominated over him by over eight inches. “My name is Semeion, and there is something that you need to know about the wizard that you serve.”

Barra wasn’t in much of a mood to listen to anyone who had intruded upon her space. Her hand reached across the desk and her fingers easily gripped the leather exterior covering the sheath which protected her blade. In a second the woman had the blade drawn. The handle of the sword was easily long enough to allow both of her massive sets of fingers to secure the blade. “Nobody knows of my service to the wizard in Eberdeen except those that my master tells. I don’t recognize you, so you better either explain yourself or I will slice your tiny, fragile frame in half.”

Semeion wasn’t about to take chances against a large blade, however. “Barra, there is no need for the blade. Put it down.”

Barra’s fingers clenched the weapon in preparation to strike. Semeion was ready for the move. He had assumed from Ophee’s description that Barra would resort to physical oppression to control a situation. He wouldn’t let her use the weapon against him. “Crang-d'hai Shintar” He pointed toward her blade as she began to bring it forward in a low arc. With the ceiling above her, she couldn’t use a powerful overhead swing like she had wanted.

The blade began to disintegrate as it swung through the air. As the steel neared Semeion’s position it burst into millions of pieces each no bigger than a grain of sand. The momentum of the swing carried these particles onto Semeion, but they did no harm to him. He was covered in tiny steel fragments from the waist up, but he was uninjured.

For an instant, Barra was off balance. The disappearance of the weight of the blade was enough to disrupt her motion. She stumbled to her knee, and Semeion pounced on the opportunity. “Barra, I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to know and see the truth! But if you force my hand, I can hurt you.”

Barra looked up to him and snarled. Semeion had not managed to convince her to hold back her physical assault. “You came in her as an unwelcome guest. Don’t get on your high moral horse!” She rose to her feet and focused upon Semeion’s position.

The young mage stepped back several steps in order to put a little bit of distance between him and the woman. “I’m sorry, Barra, but you’ve forced my hand.” He exhaled and then quickly replenished the air in his lungs. “Zysh Shintar.”

A deep darkness flashed from the ends of Semeion’s fingers and lurched toward Barra’s eyes. Although the darkness coated her head, Barra managed to shake her head and wipe her eyes with the webbing between her thumb and index finger. As she wiped her face, the darkness fell to the ground. 

Barra shook her head once more and glared in Semeion’s direction. “I can kill you without a sword, and your magic has no effect on me. You had better hope that I don’t get my hands on you!” She jumped in Semeion’s direction and unleashed a serious blow with her fists. The woman’s strong fingers and knuckles cracked hard against Semeion’s jaw and brought blood out of his lower lip.

Semeion tasted the blood and stepped another moved away from the woman. If he could stay out of reach, it would be much easier to use his magic. He tried the spell once more. His strategy depended upon the effect. “Zysh Shintar.”

Once again the deep darkness leapt off of his fingers and lurched towards Barra’s face. This time, the darkness focused upon her eyes. The magical effect soaked into her eye sockets until the darkness had been absorbed and Barra could no longer see.

The woman was enraged. “I can still tear your frame apart even if I can’t see you! I know my office well and there is no place that you can hide!” Her left fist struck out in a jab in the direction of Semeion, but the young mage managed to duck to the left and avoid to menacing blow.

Semeion sighed. “Barra, I do not desire to injure you. I have already blinded you and made your attacks much more difficult to land. Submit to me, all I ask is that you listen.” He slowly walked away from Barra, putting as much distance as possible between him and the woman. He knew she could find him by the sound of his voice, but it would be an inaccurate science at best.

Barra growled against the voice whose owner she could not see. “I’ll find you, wizard.”

Semeion nodded, and brought his lips together to display his disappointment with respect to Barra’s stubbornness. “I was afraid of that, Barra. Again, I apologize for what I am about to do to you.” He knelt to the floor and stretched the fingers and palm of his left hand along the wooden floor. “Thin Sooth Egro.” 

A small drop of oil formed along Semeion’s middle finger and spread across the floor to underneath the spot where Barra stood. Barra couldn’t see the magical effect approaching, and as she stepped towards Semeion her feet lost traction and she fell to the ground. Her large frame landed on the floor solidly. She tried to bring herself to her feet, but she was unable to lift herself onto her knees before Semeion was in position for another magical strike.

The young mage rose to his feet and looked with pity upon the tall woman who had been brought to the floor. The fall looked quite painful, although fortunately there had been nothing below her upon which she could land. “Your master betrayed you, Barra. Your master has been using you without your knowledge. You have been brainwashed and have committed acts without even remembering them. I can prove it to you.”

Barra spat upon the floor as she struggled to get to her feet. She couldn’t overcome the slickness of the magical substance beneath her. “My master has done no such thing. I would remember!”

Semeion smirked. Barra was demonstrating her ignorance of magic in that statement. “Then I will prove it you. My next spell won’t hurt anything except your pride.” The young mage snickered as he saw Barra freeze in response to his words. She was trying to brace herself against his attack. “Skrie Egro.”

A small ray of pale green light flowed from the outstretched fingers of his right hand and surrounded Barra. Gradually, Barra’s size began to shrink until her six and a half foot tall frame was now only a touch over three feet in height. She had been reduced to a diminutive size, barely taller than the merchant who had taught Rhema her mental powers. Now it was Semeion who dominated over Barra in size, although with her blindness she could not see for herself.

Barra could feel the effect of the spell, however. She could feel her size reducing and sliding over the floor beneath her. In spite of her struggle, she could not resist the effect. She howled in rage, but still could not manage to bring herself to her feet.

Semeion looked down upon the woman once more with sympathy. “This would have been much easier if you would have been willing to listen in the beginning, Barra. Now you have been blinded, coated in grease, and reduced to a simple fraction of yourself. How long will this need to continue? When will you see my purpose for coming here? I don’t want to hurt you, but I am determined that you should be confronted with the truth.”

Barra shook her head. “You had better work fast, wizard. You magic will not hold its effect for much longer. Once your magic wears off, I will hurt you. What will you be like when you can no longer depend on the limited resources of your magic? My strength never leaves. It can only be suppressed for short times by your tricks.”

Semeion nodded. Perhaps that was the first thing that she had said all day that he agreed with. “Very well, Barra. I had hoped to demonstrate that you could be beaten and have you be conscious of it. But, perhaps the only way to prove my point is to convert you. Your master beat your mind rather easily, I would imagine. My own magic should be able to duplicate his effect. In fact, you should be growing weary of hearing my voice right now. You should be growing tired just listening to my words. You should be growing mesmerized by the ever increasing monotony in my tone. Thin Umaam Egro.”

Barra offered no reply. In fact, she ceased struggling against the slick substance upon the floor. She merely lay in the grease, facing the direction of Semeion’s voice. It was as though her ability to choose was no longer a part of her conscious mind.

Semeion could tell instantly that his attempt to hypnotize her by the use of his voice had worked. “Barra, in a second, I am going to remove the spell that caused your floor to be slick. I want you to remain lying upon the ground. Then I am going to come over to you and teleport you to see Ophee and the other people the wizard in Eberdeen has in his employ. Do you think this is a wise idea? Would you like to go with me to learn the truth?”

Barra nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was soft and flat as if it were flowing out of her unconscious mind. “I will go with you.”

Semeion allowed his mind to release the slick oil upon the floor, and the magic vanished instantly. Barra did not move as Semeion approached. As he knelt to the ground, he turned to the location that Master Searthu had placed his arcane sensor. “I’m coming back. Make sure there are a few acolytes able to restrain her.” He touched Barra on the shoulder and twisted the ring that Brandt had given him.

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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 6, 2007)

Rhema twisted the ring on her finger just after watching Semeion disappear.  She hadn’t wanted to watch any of his conflict.  For one reason or another, that was the battle she was most concerned about.  As she twisted the ring on her own finger, she hoped for his sake that that the size differential would be able to be overcome.

Ehre was not quite as large as Barra.  Judging from the view she could get from the crystal ball, Rhema thought that they would be about the same height.  If it came to a physical contest, it didn’t appear that there would be a clear favorite.

However, Rhema also knew that it shouldn’t have to come to physical blows.  If her mind was strong enough, and Ehre’s mind pliable enough, Rhema should be able to talk her way through Ehre’s defenses.  She knew that the best way to make the encounter seem more legitimate would be to start from the very beginning.  So, Rhema had used the ring and the vision from the crystal ball to teleport herself down the road from Ehre’s house.  That way, Ehre could watch her approach if she happened to be looking to the street.

Rhema safely appeared in Reignsburg.  Mentally, she knew that she wasn’t far from Archis’ potatoes and the _Cachinnating Roadhouse_.  She would have loved to take a side trip to get herself a bit of a snack, but time would not be on her side.  It was important to get to Ehre quickly and win her trust in case the wizard in Eberdeen happened to be taking note of the party’s advances upon his servants.

Ehre’s house demonstrated that she was a person of considerable means.  The fact that she lived in a house all her own and not an apartment was indication enough.  However, as Rhema approached the outside of the building she could see the signs of her wealth.  Her house sat on a relatively large piece of land for being within the city limits.  Behind the house, Rhema thought that she could make out signs of a grape arbor.  Earlier in its life, the house had been surrounded by a split rail fence and the fence had recently been repainted.

Rhema approached the house from the front walk.  She knocked on the door and stepped back, waiting for Ehre to answer the door.  She waited several seconds before hearing footsteps approach the door from the inside.  A woman answered the door, but Rhema could tell immediately that the woman wasn’t Ehre.

In spite of being caught by surprise, in her mind Rhema worked up a new plan for entry.  “Good morning, I’m looking for the lady of the house.  Perhaps you can help me out.  I have a message for Ehre, and was told that she lived her at this residence.”

The woman on the other side of the threshold curtseyed quickly and nodded.  “The lady Ehre is in today, would you be willing to come in and sit while I announce your presence to her?”

Rhema smiled, but she also knew that speed was of the essence.  She didn’t want Ehre to have time to contact the wizard in Eberdeen, if that was even a possibility.  “Certainly.”  As Rhema continued, her voice changed in tone ever so slightly.  Her words became laced with the mental powers that Rhema wielded.  If Ischarus had been present, he’d have recognized it immediately.  “Although I do have other business to attend, so please convey my urgency to your lady.”

When the woman curtseyed again, Rhema knew that the mental suggestion had worked.  Ehre’s servant didn’t know why, but she was suddenly a bit averse to making Rhema wait too long.  Rhema hadn’t planted fear into the woman’s mind, but she had planted a distinct displeasure towards keeping Rhema waiting.  Fear would have aroused suspicion when the servant went to Ehre; but displeasure would simply indicate the significance of the message that Rhema brought.

Rhema’s ears tracked the woman’s footsteps through the house.  It was clear that Ehre’s servant had been trained well.  She walked the uncarpeted wooden floors with a soft step.  However, Rhema was still able to here the woman ascend the stairs, and she could hear the slight creaking of the wooden slats above her as the woman traversed the hallway to the room where Ehre was waiting for her.  Rhema heard the soft knock on the door, and she began to hear a soft discussion regarding her presence.

Several moments later, Rhema heard a pair of footsteps retracing the path that Ehre’s servant had earlier walked.  Rhema smiled a bit smugly, knowing that her mental suggestion had gotten a response far quicker than would have normally occurred.  Had Rhema simply left it at the servant’s discretion, Rhema would have likely been kept waiting for several minutes while Ehre ensured that she was presentable as a lady of a manor.  

Once Rhema could hear that Ehre was coming, she quickly brought to mind another mental power that she had mastered.  Her eyes closed as she envisioned the layout of the house.  Thanks to the ability of Master Searthu’s crystal ball, Rhema was able to know the layout of the house to great detail.  Her mind’s probe sought out the location where she knew Ehre and her servant walked.  

The telepathic probe lingered for just a moment over the mind of the servant woman.  Rhema could hear the servant woman’s thoughts as if they were being spoken to her directly.  “Phorii be praised, lady Ehre didn’t make the lady downstairs wait!  Now I can get back to my chores in the kitchen.”

Rhema’s lips parted in a gratified smile.  The servant obviously had some kind of faith, and she also knew that the god Phorii that had been praised was known for his alignment in the same family as those that Brandt and Charis served.  At least the servant could be trusted to act honorably in most circumstances.

Rhema’s mind probe paused for a moment so that it could hover over Ehre.  The mind probe also managed to pick up on Ehre’s conscious thoughts as if they were being spoken directly to her.  “For Vaina’s sake, this woman had better be important.  No servant of mine suggests that I forego the assumed delay before making my presence known.”

Rhema could tell that Ehre had not been pleased to be thrown out of her normal routine, but that was something that she could manage.  She also assumed that Vaina was the name of the servant woman who walked in front of her.  She would need to be careful and not let the name slip out in conversation since she had not been told the name.

Rhema stood as the servant woman and Ehre descended the steps.  Vaina descended the steps quickly.  The urgency was in part a response to Rhema’s earlier mental suggestion, but it was also so that she could ready herself in the room and announce her lady before she arrived.  As if choreographed, Ehre’s steps slowed on the staircase in order to allow time for her presence to be announced.

The servant woman reached the bottom of the steps and proceeded down the hallway until she turned the corner into the room where Rhema had been asked to remain.  “Milady, I announce the arrival of the mistress of the house, Lady Ehre.”  She curtseyed once more and Rhema smiled.  Lady Ehre brushed past her servant without any recognition of the announcement and stopped as she saw Rhema before her.

Lady Ehre was dressed in a simple, yet exquisite, dress.  The maroon fabric was expensive and delicate, but the dress had been cut so as to be functional.  The fabric held loosely to Ehre’s body to allow her the freedom to move, yet when Ehre was not in motion the fabric hung straight to look formal.

The reason that Ehre had stopped, of course, was the instant disconnect in regard to the way that Rhema was dressed.  Rhema was not dressed in the manner that Ehre had expected.  She had assumed that a visitor of enough importance to cause her servant to toss out the standard protocol of appearances would be rather impressive.  Rhema’s leather coat and simple leggings showed her to be nothing more than a common merchant or an errand girl.  

Rhema could see that Ehre was doing the best to control her disgust with the whole proceeding so far.  The fact that her mind probe was still reading Ehre’s thoughts helped her as well.  She would need to diffuse the irritation before earning her trust.

Rhema spoke first, rather than waiting to be greeted by Ehre.  “Lady Ehre, forgive my appearance.  I have come on a long journey to see you.  In fact, there are only five others like me traveling across all of Tongra.  To be completely honest, you are the only person in all of Reignsburg to receive a visit from anyone who has been given my task.  If you can find it in your noble upbringing to forgive the fact that I have been dressed to meet the rigors of the road, I will tell you why my message is of the utmost urgency.”

Ehre’s posture and facial expression eased.  Rhema had effectively played up to Ehre’s vision of her own self-importance that she could not refuse.  With a gesture, Ehre dismissed Vaina.  “I do have some time, please have a seat.  If at any time I can offer you a drink, let me know and I’ll have my servant come and arrange it for you.”

Rhema smiled, and politely waited for Ehre to be seated first.  After the simple display, Rhema sat down and began to speak.  She was surprised with how easily Ehre had been placated.  If this was any sort of indication, this visit might be easier than she thought.  “I have a story that I think you would be interested in hearing.”  Just to make sure that she had Ehre’s attention, Rhema had added her mental powers to the suggestion.

Rhema’s suggestive power didn’t work on Ehre, but it didn’t matter.  Ehre was interested enough already.  She didn’t need help being interested in a message for which she was the only recipient in Reignsburg.  “Go on, do tell.  Who is your message from?”

Rhema grinned.  This would be the moment of truth.  “My message is regarding a woman in Fingerdale named Opheiluka.”  Ehre’s facial expression changed from one of self-indulgence to one of shock.  Rhema could easily identify the change in expression and took advantage of it.  “And, by your expression I can tell that you know Opheiluka.”

Ehre responded, forgetting her stately performance so far.  “Opheiluka?  But she is dead!”

Rhema smiled.  “There are some who would have you believe that.  I have come to tell you the truth.  In fact, I do not think I need to explain to you why I have been sent to only you here in Reignsburg, do I?”

Ehre shook her head.  “And our master?  He is the one who sent you to me?  That is strange, he normally uses magic to contact me directly.”

Rhema smiled smugly.  She would add her mental powers to this sentence, and hopefully it would seal Ehre’s cooperation.  “He is not ‘our’ master, Lady Ehre.  He is your master.  He is one of those who would like you to believe the lie that she is dead.  I would suggest that you come with me and find out the truth for yourself.  I have been sent to you not by the wizard in Eberdeen, but by Opheiluka herself.”

There was a little hesitation on Ehre’s part, and Rhema decided to once more apply her mental power to the lady’s ability to make a decision.  “Come with me, Lady Ehre.  I have come a long way to tell you the truth.  Come with me.”

Ehre slowly rose to her feet.  “Very well.  I will go with you.  Will I be traveling with you on horse or carriage?  I’ll need to dress appropriately in either case.”

Rhema smiled and extended the finger that housed the golden ring.  “Actually, neither.  If you would be so kind as to hold my hand, I will take you to Opheiluka this very moment by magic.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema twisted the ring on her finger just after watching Semeion disappear. She hadn’t wanted to watch any of his conflict. For one reason or another, that was the battle she was most concerned about. As she twisted the ring on her own finger, she hoped for his sake that that the size differential would be able to be overcome.

Ehre was not quite as large as Barra. Judging from the view she could get from the crystal ball, Rhema thought that they would be about the same height. If it came to a physical contest, it didn’t appear that there would be a clear favorite.

However, Rhema also knew that it shouldn’t have to come to physical blows. If her mind was strong enough, and Ehre’s mind pliable enough, Rhema should be able to talk her way through Ehre’s defenses. She knew that the best way to make the encounter seem more legitimate would be to start from the very beginning. So, Rhema had used the ring and the vision from the crystal ball to teleport herself down the road from Ehre’s house. That way, Ehre could watch her approach if she happened to be looking to the street.

Rhema safely appeared in Reignsburg. Mentally, she knew that she wasn’t far from Archis’ potatoes and the Cachinnating Roadhouse. She would have loved to take a side trip to get herself a bit of a snack, but time would not be on her side. It was important to get to Ehre quickly and win her trust in case the wizard in Eberdeen happened to be taking note of the party’s advances upon his servants.

Ehre’s house demonstrated that she was a person of considerable means. The fact that she lived in a house all her own and not an apartment was indication enough. However, as Rhema approached the outside of the building she could see the signs of her wealth. Her house sat on a relatively large piece of land for being within the city limits. Behind the house, Rhema thought that she could make out signs of a grape arbor. Earlier in its life, the house had been surrounded by a split rail fence and the fence had recently been repainted.

Rhema approached the house from the front walk. She knocked on the door and stepped back, waiting for Ehre to answer the door. She waited several seconds before hearing footsteps approach the door from the inside. A woman answered the door, but Rhema could tell immediately that the woman wasn’t Ehre.

In spite of being caught by surprise, in her mind Rhema worked up a new plan for entry. “Good morning, I’m looking for the lady of the house. Perhaps you can help me out. I have a message for Ehre, and was told that she lived her at this residence.”

The woman on the other side of the threshold curtseyed quickly and nodded. “The lady Ehre is in today, would you be willing to come in and sit while I announce your presence to her?”

Rhema smiled, but she also knew that speed was of the essence. She didn’t want Ehre to have time to contact the wizard in Eberdeen, if that was even a possibility. “Certainly.” As Rhema continued, her voice changed in tone ever so slightly. Her words became laced with the mental powers that Rhema wielded. If Ischarus had been present, he’d have recognized it immediately. “Although I do have other business to attend, so please convey my urgency to your lady.”

When the woman curtseyed again, Rhema knew that the mental suggestion had worked. Ehre’s servant didn’t know why, but she was suddenly a bit averse to making Rhema wait too long. Rhema hadn’t planted fear into the woman’s mind, but she had planted a distinct displeasure towards keeping Rhema waiting. Fear would have aroused suspicion when the servant went to Ehre; but displeasure would simply indicate the significance of the message that Rhema brought.

Rhema’s ears tracked the woman’s footsteps through the house. It was clear that Ehre’s servant had been trained well. She walked the uncarpeted wooden floors with a soft step. However, Rhema was still able to here the woman ascend the stairs, and she could hear the slight creaking of the wooden slats above her as the woman traversed the hallway to the room where Ehre was waiting for her. Rhema heard the soft knock on the door, and she began to hear a soft discussion regarding her presence.

Several moments later, Rhema heard a pair of footsteps retracing the path that Ehre’s servant had earlier walked. Rhema smiled a bit smugly, knowing that her mental suggestion had gotten a response far quicker than would have normally occurred. Had Rhema simply left it at the servant’s discretion, Rhema would have likely been kept waiting for several minutes while Ehre ensured that she was presentable as a lady of a manor. 

Once Rhema could hear that Ehre was coming, she quickly brought to mind another mental power that she had mastered. Her eyes closed as she envisioned the layout of the house. Thanks to the ability of Master Searthu’s crystal ball, Rhema was able to know the layout of the house to great detail. Her mind’s probe sought out the location where she knew Ehre and her servant walked. 

The telepathic probe lingered for just a moment over the mind of the servant woman. Rhema could hear the servant woman’s thoughts as if they were being spoken to her directly. “Phorii be praised, lady Ehre didn’t make the lady downstairs wait! Now I can get back to my chores in the kitchen.”

Rhema’s lips parted in a gratified smile. The servant obviously had some kind of faith, and she also knew that the god Phorii that had been praised was known for his alignment in the same family as those that Brandt and Charis served. At least the servant could be trusted to act honorably in most circumstances.

Rhema’s mind probe paused for a moment so that it could hover over Ehre. The mind probe also managed to pick up on Ehre’s conscious thoughts as if they were being spoken directly to her. “For Vaina’s sake, this woman had better be important. No servant of mine suggests that I forego the assumed delay before making my presence known.”

Rhema could tell that Ehre had not been pleased to be thrown out of her normal routine, but that was something that she could manage. She also assumed that Vaina was the name of the servant woman who walked in front of her. She would need to be careful and not let the name slip out in conversation since she had not been told the name.

Rhema stood as the servant woman and Ehre descended the steps. Vaina descended the steps quickly. The urgency was in part a response to Rhema’s earlier mental suggestion, but it was also so that she could ready herself in the room and announce her lady before she arrived. As if choreographed, Ehre’s steps slowed on the staircase in order to allow time for her presence to be announced.

The servant woman reached the bottom of the steps and proceeded down the hallway until she turned the corner into the room where Rhema had been asked to remain. “Milady, I announce the arrival of the mistress of the house, Lady Ehre.” She curtseyed once more and Rhema smiled. Lady Ehre brushed past her servant without any recognition of the announcement and stopped as she saw Rhema before her.

Lady Ehre was dressed in a simple, yet exquisite, dress. The maroon fabric was expensive and delicate, but the dress had been cut so as to be functional. The fabric held loosely to Ehre’s body to allow her the freedom to move, yet when Ehre was not in motion the fabric hung straight to look formal.

The reason that Ehre had stopped, of course, was the instant disconnect in regard to the way that Rhema was dressed. Rhema was not dressed in the manner that Ehre had expected. She had assumed that a visitor of enough importance to cause her servant to toss out the standard protocol of appearances would be rather impressive. Rhema’s leather coat and simple leggings showed her to be nothing more than a common merchant or an errand girl. 

Rhema could see that Ehre was doing the best to control her disgust with the whole proceeding so far. The fact that her mind probe was still reading Ehre’s thoughts helped her as well. She would need to diffuse the irritation before earning her trust.

Rhema spoke first, rather than waiting to be greeted by Ehre. “Lady Ehre, forgive my appearance. I have come on a long journey to see you. In fact, there are only five others like me traveling across all of Tongra. To be completely honest, you are the only person in all of Reignsburg to receive a visit from anyone who has been given my task. If you can find it in your noble upbringing to forgive the fact that I have been dressed to meet the rigors of the road, I will tell you why my message is of the utmost urgency.”

Ehre’s posture and facial expression eased. Rhema had effectively played up to Ehre’s vision of her own self-importance that she could not refuse. With a gesture, Ehre dismissed Vaina. “I do have some time, please have a seat. If at any time I can offer you a drink, let me know and I’ll have my servant come and arrange it for you.”

Rhema smiled, and politely waited for Ehre to be seated first. After the simple display, Rhema sat down and began to speak. She was surprised with how easily Ehre had been placated. If this was any sort of indication, this visit might be easier than she thought. “I have a story that I think you would be interested in hearing.” Just to make sure that she had Ehre’s attention, Rhema had added her mental powers to the suggestion.

Rhema’s suggestive power didn’t work on Ehre, but it didn’t matter. Ehre was interested enough already. She didn’t need help being interested in a message for which she was the only recipient in Reignsburg. “Go on, do tell. Who is your message from?”

Rhema grinned. This would be the moment of truth. “My message is regarding a woman in Fingerdale named Opheiluka.” Ehre’s facial expression changed from one of self-indulgence to one of shock. Rhema could easily identify the change in expression and took advantage of it. “And, by your expression I can tell that you know Opheiluka.”

Ehre responded, forgetting her stately performance so far. “Opheiluka? But she is dead!”

Rhema smiled. “There are some who would have you believe that. I have come to tell you the truth. In fact, I do not think I need to explain to you why I have been sent to only you here in Reignsburg, do I?”

Ehre shook her head. “And our master? He is the one who sent you to me? That is strange, he normally uses magic to contact me directly.”

Rhema smiled smugly. She would add her mental powers to this sentence, and hopefully it would seal Ehre’s cooperation. “He is not ‘our’ master, Lady Ehre. He is your master. He is one of those who would like you to believe the lie that she is dead. I would suggest that you come with me and find out the truth for yourself. I have been sent to you not by the wizard in Eberdeen, but by Opheiluka herself.”

There was a little hesitation on Ehre’s part, and Rhema decided to once more apply her mental power to the lady’s ability to make a decision. “Come with me, Lady Ehre. I have come a long way to tell you the truth. Come with me.”

Ehre slowly rose to her feet. “Very well. I will go with you. Will I be traveling with you on horse or carriage? I’ll need to dress appropriately in either case.”

Rhema smiled and extended the finger that housed the golden ring. “Actually, neither. If you would be so kind as to hold my hand, I will take you to Opheiluka this very moment by magic.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 10, 2007)

Brandt turned to Iscahrus, who was the only one to have waited to leave after Brandt.  Brandt began to speak, but Ischarus smiled and spoke first.  “Sir, with all due respect, I am used to leading.  We’re going to go and fight our own battles, and I’ll fight better knowing that I was last.”

Brandt thought about countermanding Ischarus’ advice, but decided quickly that it really didn’t matter.  “As you wish, Ischarus.  Just let me summon a few assistants from Reah, if she will spare them.” 

Brandt looked up to the set of manacles that hung from Master Searthu’s wall.  The manacles were a common symbol used to represent Reah as the tools of her staunch pursuit of justice.  “Reah, your servant is in need of your assistance.  If you are willing, please send your light to me.  Daancrah Pashor Fundar.”

Brandt waved his hands in the air, and suddenly three small globes of light appeared just outside of Brandt’s reach.  The small balls of light floated in the middle of the air.  They sang to Brandt in unison as their summoning came to a conclusion.  “Reah has found honor in your quest, favored one.  We are here to help.”

Brandt smiled in Ischarus’ direction and commented upon the appearance of the divine agents with a clear tone of humor in his voice.  “Apparently, Reah is in a most literal mood, today.”  Brandt could hear Master Searthu chuckling behind where he stood.

Master Brandt turned to the glowing orbs and pointed to the crystal ball displaying Jerome’s current position.  “Our goal is to reach this man.  He is the premiere servant to the caretaker of the city park in Eberdeen.  Our goal is to take him alive, but we should not expect him to come willingly.  I would ask that you do not risk danger upon yourself.  If you will, protect me and offer assistance to my efforts.  But there is no need for you to provide a direct assault upon Jerome.  I will do that.”

The globes did not reply in so many words.  Their position of flight altered in the room and the formed a horizontal equilateral triangle which slowly revolved around Brandt’s head.  Ischarus couldn’t help but allow a slight smile of pride to appear as he watched Brandt teleport to Jerome’s location.  Less than a second later, the glowing orbs vanished, following Brandt into battle precisely.

Brandt quickly recognized the new location, and once the orbs realized that they were outside they lifted themselves aloft to a distance of twenty five feet.  They continued to stay directly above the servant of Reah who had summoned them, and they also continued to slowly revolve in a flat counterclockwise arc.

Brandt saw his mark, and he noted that Jerome had not yet noticed his appearance.  The follower of Reah motioned to the small angelic figures to soften their melodic humming before he spoke.  “Jerome of Eberdeen, I have come to confront you about your service to the wizard of the wizard’s college here in Eberdeen.  It has been suggested that you follow the wizard while being under the effects of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Jerome spun around to face Brandt as soon as he heard the voice.  At the mention of the Arum Dracunculus, Jerome began to chuckle.  “Who do you think told him where to find the plant?  I serve willingly; I do not need the drug to convince me of my master’s bidding.  What I do, I do by my choice.”

Brandt was not completely surprised with Jerome’s statement.  After all, Jerome was an assistant caretaker of Eberdeen’s central park.  He should know something about the care of plants.  “Then you have willingly enslaved others through your actions?”

Jerome laughed.  His blue eyes grew darker as his laughter became much more ominous and serious.  His eyebrows narrowed as he took note of the angelic orbs floating over a dozen feet above Brandt’s head.  He extended an arm and pointed a long finger towards Brandt.  Years of working in the soil had long since tinted each of his fingernails black.  “It was my idea, but my master has the means of making the effect a reality.  It would not have been possible without my research, but it is his hand that actually does the work.”

Brandt snarled at the confession.  “Association by definition makes you no less guilty.  Willingly participating in the enslavement of others is still against the tenets of this land and the teachings of Reah.  I will bring you to justice.”

Jerome grinned, displaying a set of teeth long stained brown from drinking teas made from the leaves and roots of his plants.  “Oh?  Is that so?”

Brandt nodded.  “I foiled your master’s plans already when he tried to work through Ophee.”

A look of pleasure passed over his face.  “She was weak.  She deserved to die.  There is no place in the world for those who can be dominated so easily by a plant.”

Brandt shook his head.  “I would think that you above all people would value life.”

Jerome couldn’t help but nod in Brandt’s direction.  “I do value all life.  Each life has use.  Opheiluka’s life taught me to focus on why I struggle every day to keep from being weak.  I learned from her life, but she was past her usefulness for quite some time.”

Brandt returned Jerome’s gesture.  “Indeed.  Now I think it is time to determine if you are past yours.  Thin quas Zecka Zhendahl.”

As Brandt lifted his right hand up from his side and pointed it towards Jerome, a static charge collected along his fingertips.  Once his fingers pointed towards the target, the charge jumped off of Brandt’s fingers and formed a large bolt of lightning.  The energy danced through the air until it neared Jerome’s position.  Without warning, the energy dissipated in midair with a disappointing fizzle.  What faint energy remaining drifted dimly towards Jerome and was absorbed by a small gold ring.

Jerome laughed at the feebleness of Brandt’s spell.  “Did you think you would find me weak and unprepared?  Did you think that a spell of the Zhendahl strength could actually harm me?  If so, then I think that the slayer of Opheiluka has vastly underestimated the power and protection of the wizard’s other servants."

Brandt had a sudden moment of fear.  Ophee had told the party that Jerome would be the greatest challenge.  But if Jerome was challenging him, there was plenty of room for concern that the others would be likewise challenged.

Jerome didn’t allow Brandt to dwell in his fear for very long, however.  Jerome turned to the plants in the field around him as he stepped back from Brandt’s location.  “Soo-ah Celluse Zhendahl.”  The grasses underneath Brandt’s feet instantly grew to nearly five feet in height.  Visibility was not obscured, but Brandt’s mobility certainly was vastly reduced.  Should Jerome wish to get away, Brandt would have a difficult time following without the aid of his divine agents.

Brandt extended his hands.  Fortunately, he had anticipated Jerome’s ability to use nature against him.  When he was asking for his magical power from Reah, he had received knowledge on this very spell.  Brandt knew that the counter was quite simple.  “Soo-ah Celluse Zhendahl.”  It was a matter of repeating the same magical phrase but with a different tone.  The plants underneath Brant’s feet withered.  Just to make his point, Brandt reduced the grass to an even lower height than it had begun.

Jerome snarled at Brandt’s ability.  “So, I see that you have come prepared.  Perhaps I will give you some credit.  As it is, allow me to bring one of my friends to counter your three divine agents above!  Daancrah Pashel Fundar”

The effect of Jerome’s summoning was immediately obvious.  Flames burst from the ground, although the ground was not actually harmed.  A ten foot snake with the torso and arms of a man burst through the flames.  The creature’s left hand gripped the hilt of a large double bladed axe.  The great flame that had summoned the creature diminished once the creature appeared, but smaller flames continued to leap from the creature’s skin and scales and either dissipate as they rose into the air or singe the ground beneath the creature’s unusual body as the creature slithered along the ground.

Brandt nodded as the humming of his three companions increased.  “Indeed, my friends.  Jerome has given you something to play target practice with.  Have at the fearsome creature from the bottomless pit of the earth!  As for me, Ythan Shintar!”

Five identical images of Brandt appeared to surround Brandt at the call of the arcane words.  Brandt stepped towards Jerome and the images stepped with him.  At times, the images seemed to pass right through one another.  At other times, the images passed through Brandt.  The effect of the spell was making it impossible to determine exactly which one of the six total images of Brandt the real follower of Reah was.

Jerome applauded lightly in appreciation of the parlor trick.   “A handy trick, but nothing that is so easily defeated.”  As Jerome spoke, the fiery snake-like creature slithered across the ground between Brandt and Jerome.  The ground blackened as the creature moved over the grass.  The creature hefted the double bladed axe over his head and struck at one of the six images.  The blade of the axe passed through one of the images as it popped out of existence.

As the fiery creature drew closer to Brandt, the divine entities hovering above Brandt increased the volume of their humming.  A small beam of light struck out from each of the small orbs and landed upon the fiery creature.  The beams appeared to wound the snake-like being, but the damage was not severe enough to take the attention of the fiery creature away from Brandt.

Jerome finished applauding and finished his speech.  “Now I shall defeat the spell in one simple gesture.  Daancrah Zzat Diast.”  The humming of the divine agents was suddenly silenced by the cacophonous sound of locusts.  The insects appeared out of the ground and surrounded Brandt and his mirages.  As the insects drew closer to Brandt and attacked each one of the images, they popped out of existence.

Brandt held out his hand to keep the swarm at bay for a moment.  He admired Jerome’s ability to use counter magic as well as he could.  Without offering another chance for an exchange of parlay, Brandt lifted up his finger once more and cried out to Reah.  “Smite mine enemy!  Thin Kelath Teos Diast!”

From a point higher than either Brandt, his divine agents, the fiery creature, or Jerome could see, a column of fire descended rapidly.  The fire focused onto Jerome’s position and encircled him.  The servant of the wizard cried out at the effect that Brandt had called down upon him, but it was not enough to silence his magical energy.  When the effect had passed, Jerome turned to Brandt and responded.  “You have given your goddess a chance to speak, now feel the wrath of mine.  Feel the wrath of nature!  Thin quas Zecka Diast!”

Dark clouds gathered overhead.  They appeared so suddenly that it had to be caused by the magical summoning of Jerome.  The light of the sun was diminished as though it were night, and the only reason that Brandt could still see Jerome was because of the light radiating from his divine helpers.  Now, the battle had extended beyond the two wielders of magic.  Now, the battle was encompassing all of Eberdeen.  Thunder rolled across the land, and a strong gale blew across the central park and through the city.  Jerome pointed to Brandt, who held up his left palm to block the incoming attack.

Lightning arced from the sky and followed Jerome’s point.  The electric assault slammed into Brandt’s hand and flowed through Brandt’s body.  His robe began to smoke, and a dark circle was left behind from where the electricity had landed.  Branded breathed deeply as he recovered from the magic within the assault.

Brandt was certainly the more powerful of the two as far as the realm of magic, but Jerome’s constant involvement with nature had made him considerably tougher.  A battle of pure damage would not bode well for Brandt.  Even though Jerome was the weaker of the two in magic, he would outlast Brandt in a simple exchange of assaults.  

Brandt would need to end this quickly, before all of Eberdeen was consumed in Jerome’s magical summoning.  “Zysh Sooth Shindar.”

Jerome braced himself for the magical attack, but an attack never came.  When he realized that the power of Brandt’s spell would not have been enough to affect him anyway, he smiled.  “You have become weak, wizard?  Then I will strike you down!  Thin quas Zecka Diast.”  Another lightning bolt descended and flowed through Brandt’s body and into the ground.

Before Brandt could recover, the fiery creature summoned by Jerome slashed hard at him and caught him in the side with his axe.  His robes were bloodied, but fortunately his divine agents came to his aid.  The humming of one of the orbs increased, and the pale yellow glow of Reah’s healing surrounded his newest wound and sealed it.  The other two orbs continued their assault of light upon the fiery creature.  It appeared as though they had gotten its attention and it would leave Brandt’s vicinity.

Brandt knew that he could not survive another assault of the magnitude that Jerome could bring down from the storm.  He was glad that his earlier spell had deceived Jerome.  The spell was not a spell of combat as Jerome had assumed.  In fact, the spell had heightened Brandt’s aptitude for the coming magical attack.  He grinned towards Jerome as he pointed towards his enemy.  Only then did he notice that his robe was now singed, and of course still smoking.  “Zysh Umaam Diast.”

There was no excitement in Brandt’s voice.  There was only the recognition of more pain.  Jerome was struck by the sheer magnitude of Brandt’s spell.  Boils and blisters immediately broke out over Jerome’s face, hands, arms, legs, and feet.  His mind instantly blanked as if he had lost all personality, spirit, and intellect.  Small strings of drool quickly gathered along his parted lips and slowly dripped out of his mouth.  The dark clouds above the city vanished as quickly as they had come now that Jerome was no longer mentally able to contain the magical power that bound them to his location.

Brandt stepped towards Jerome.  His spell had worked.  “You have given the city quite a show, sir.  They will long talk about the day that lightning struck twice and the park grass blackened from fire.  But they will not know why.  You and your now feeble mind are coming with me.”

Jerome groaned in horror, but Brandt’s spell now meant that he no longer knew enough words to even try and object.  Brandt held out a finger in his direction.  “I can kill you with one word, now that you can no longer defend yourself from my magical assaults.  Resist and you will force my hand to kill you.  Kneel, and I will spare your life and take you to justice.”

More drool dripped from Jerome’s mouth as he leaned forward to kneel.  Brandt had once again beaten one of the wizard’s servants.  Like the last battle, this one had nearly cost him more than he was able to give.

Brandt turned to his divine agents.  “Drive the fiery beast back to the center of the world from which it came.  Make sure that it does no harm to any person living in Eberdeen.  Then you may return home and give my greetings and word of my devotion to Reah.”

The orbs began to slowly circle around the fiery creature and assault it from every side.  It wouldn’t take long for the creature to be defeated.  Their combined mobility and ability to fly kept them safe from the attacks of the creature.

Brandt turned back to Jerome.  “Oh, one more thing.  Ophee hasn’t passed her usefulness.  In fact, she isn’t even dead.  She is the one who sent me after you.  Thank Reah that I value life and not only its usefulness.  Your current state of drooling and your inability to think and speak doesn’t give you a very high rating on the current scale of useful life forms.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt turned to Iscahrus, who was the only one to have waited to leave after Brandt. Brandt began to speak, but Ischarus smiled and spoke first. “Sir, with all due respect, I am used to leading. We’re going to go and fight our own battles, and I’ll fight better knowing that I was last.”

Brandt thought about countermanding Ischarus’ advice, but decided quickly that it really didn’t matter. “As you wish, Ischarus. Just let me summon a few assistants from Reah, if she will spare them.” 

Brandt looked up to the set of manacles that hung from Master Searthu’s wall. The manacles were a common symbol used to represent Reah as the tools of her staunch pursuit of justice. “Reah, your servant is in need of your assistance. If you are willing, please send your light to me. Daancrah Pashor Fundar.”

Brandt waved his hands in the air, and suddenly three small globes of light appeared just outside of Brandt’s reach. The small balls of light floated in the middle of the air. They sang to Brandt in unison as their summoning came to a conclusion. “Reah has found honor in your quest, favored one. We are here to help.”

Brandt smiled in Ischarus’ direction and commented upon the appearance of the divine agents with a clear tone of humor in his voice. “Apparently, Reah is in a most literal mood, today.” Brandt could hear Master Searthu chuckling behind where he stood.

Master Brandt turned to the glowing orbs and pointed to the crystal ball displaying Jerome’s current position. “Our goal is to reach this man. He is the premiere servant to the caretaker of the city park in Eberdeen. Our goal is to take him alive, but we should not expect him to come willingly. I would ask that you do not risk danger upon yourself. If you will, protect me and offer assistance to my efforts. But there is no need for you to provide a direct assault upon Jerome. I will do that.”

The globes did not reply in so many words. Their position of flight altered in the room and the formed a horizontal equilateral triangle which slowly revolved around Brandt’s head. Ischarus couldn’t help but allow a slight smile of pride to appear as he watched Brandt teleport to Jerome’s location. Less than a second later, the glowing orbs vanished, following Brandt into battle precisely.

Brandt quickly recognized the new location, and once the orbs realized that they were outside they lifted themselves aloft to a distance of twenty five feet. They continued to stay directly above the servant of Reah who had summoned them, and they also continued to slowly revolve in a flat counterclockwise arc.

Brandt saw his mark, and he noted that Jerome had not yet noticed his appearance. The follower of Reah motioned to the small angelic figures to soften their melodic humming before he spoke. “Jerome of Eberdeen, I have come to confront you about your service to the wizard of the wizard’s college here in Eberdeen. It has been suggested that you follow the wizard while being under the effects of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Jerome spun around to face Brandt as soon as he heard the voice. At the mention of the Arum Dracunculus, Jerome began to chuckle. “Who do you think told him where to find the plant? I serve willingly; I do not need the drug to convince me of my master’s bidding. What I do, I do by my choice.”

Brandt was not completely surprised with Jerome’s statement. After all, Jerome was an assistant caretaker of Eberdeen’s central park. He should know something about the care of plants. “Then you have willingly enslaved others through your actions?”

Jerome laughed. His blue eyes grew darker as his laughter became much more ominous and serious. His eyebrows narrowed as he took note of the angelic orbs floating over a dozen feet above Brandt’s head. He extended an arm and pointed a long finger towards Brandt. Years of working in the soil had long since tinted each of his fingernails black. “It was my idea, but my master has the means of making the effect a reality. It would not have been possible without my research, but it is his hand that actually does the work.”

Brandt snarled at the confession. “Association by definition makes you no less guilty. Willingly participating in the enslavement of others is still against the tenets of this land and the teachings of Reah. I will bring you to justice.”

Jerome grinned, displaying a set of teeth long stained brown from drinking teas made from the leaves and roots of his plants. “Oh? Is that so?”

Brandt nodded. “I foiled your master’s plans already when he tried to work through Ophee.”

A look of pleasure passed over his face. “She was weak. She deserved to die. There is no place in the world for those who can be dominated so easily by a plant.”

Brandt shook his head. “I would think that you above all people would value life.”

Jerome couldn’t help but nod in Brandt’s direction. “I do value all life. Each life has use. Opheiluka’s life taught me to focus on why I struggle every day to keep from being weak. I learned from her life, but she was past her usefulness for quite some time.”

Brandt returned Jerome’s gesture. “Indeed. Now I think it is time to determine if you are past yours. Thin quas Zecka Zhendahl.”

As Brandt lifted his right hand up from his side and pointed it towards Jerome, a static charge collected along his fingertips. Once his fingers pointed towards the target, the charge jumped off of Brandt’s fingers and formed a large bolt of lightning. The energy danced through the air until it neared Jerome’s position. Without warning, the energy dissipated in midair with a disappointing fizzle. What faint energy remaining drifted dimly towards Jerome and was absorbed by a small gold ring.

Jerome laughed at the feebleness of Brandt’s spell. “Did you think you would find me weak and unprepared? Did you think that a spell of the Zhendahl strength could actually harm me? If so, then I think that the slayer of Opheiluka has vastly underestimated the power and protection of the wizard’s other servants."

Brandt had a sudden moment of fear. Ophee had told the party that Jerome would be the greatest challenge. But if Jerome was challenging him, there was plenty of room for concern that the others would be likewise challenged.

Jerome didn’t allow Brandt to dwell in his fear for very long, however. Jerome turned to the plants in the field around him as he stepped back from Brandt’s location. “Soo-ah Celluse Zhendahl.” The grasses underneath Brandt’s feet instantly grew to nearly five feet in height. Visibility was not obscured, but Brandt’s mobility certainly was vastly reduced. Should Jerome wish to get away, Brandt would have a difficult time following without the aid of his divine agents.

Brandt extended his hands. Fortunately, he had anticipated Jerome’s ability to use nature against him. When he was asking for his magical power from Reah, he had received knowledge on this very spell. Brandt knew that the counter was quite simple. “Soo-ah Celluse Zhendahl.” It was a matter of repeating the same magical phrase but with a different tone. The plants underneath Brant’s feet withered. Just to make his point, Brandt reduced the grass to an even lower height than it had begun.

Jerome snarled at Brandt’s ability. “So, I see that you have come prepared. Perhaps I will give you some credit. As it is, allow me to bring one of my friends to counter your three divine agents above! Daancrah Pashel Fundar”

The effect of Jerome’s summoning was immediately obvious. Flames burst from the ground, although the ground was not actually harmed. A ten foot snake with the torso and arms of a man burst through the flames. The creature’s left hand gripped the hilt of a large double bladed axe. The great flame that had summoned the creature diminished once the creature appeared, but smaller flames continued to leap from the creature’s skin and scales and either dissipate as they rose into the air or singe the ground beneath the creature’s unusual body as the creature slithered along the ground.

Brandt nodded as the humming of his three companions increased. “Indeed, my friends. Jerome has given you something to play target practice with. Have at the fearsome creature from the bottomless pit of the earth! As for me, Ythan Shintar!”

Five identical images of Brandt appeared to surround Brandt at the call of the arcane words. Brandt stepped towards Jerome and the images stepped with him. At times, the images seemed to pass right through one another. At other times, the images passed through Brandt. The effect of the spell was making it impossible to determine exactly which one of the six total images of Brandt the real follower of Reah was.

Jerome applauded lightly in appreciation of the parlor trick. “A handy trick, but nothing that is so easily defeated.” As Jerome spoke, the fiery snake-like creature slithered across the ground between Brandt and Jerome. The ground blackened as the creature moved over the grass. The creature hefted the double bladed axe over his head and struck at one of the six images. The blade of the axe passed through one of the images as it popped out of existence.

As the fiery creature drew closer to Brandt, the divine entities hovering above Brandt increased the volume of their humming. A small beam of light struck out from each of the small orbs and landed upon the fiery creature. The beams appeared to wound the snake-like being, but the damage was not severe enough to take the attention of the fiery creature away from Brandt.

Jerome finished applauding and finished his speech. “Now I shall defeat the spell in one simple gesture. Daancrah Zzat Diast.” The humming of the divine agents was suddenly silenced by the cacophonous sound of locusts. The insects appeared out of the ground and surrounded Brandt and his mirages. As the insects drew closer to Brandt and attacked each one of the images, they popped out of existence.

Brandt held out his hand to keep the swarm at bay for a moment. He admired Jerome’s ability to use counter magic as well as he could. Without offering another chance for an exchange of parlay, Brandt lifted up his finger once more and cried out to Reah. “Smite mine enemy! Thin Kelath Teos Diast!”

From a point higher than either Brandt, his divine agents, the fiery creature, or Jerome could see, a column of fire descended rapidly. The fire focused onto Jerome’s position and encircled him. The servant of the wizard cried out at the effect that Brandt had called down upon him, but it was not enough to silence his magical energy. When the effect had passed, Jerome turned to Brandt and responded. “You have given your goddess a chance to speak, now feel the wrath of mine. Feel the wrath of nature! Thin quas Zecka Diast!”

Dark clouds gathered overhead. They appeared so suddenly that it had to be caused by the magical summoning of Jerome. The light of the sun was diminished as though it were night, and the only reason that Brandt could still see Jerome was because of the light radiating from his divine helpers. Now, the battle had extended beyond the two wielders of magic. Now, the battle was encompassing all of Eberdeen. Thunder rolled across the land, and a strong gale blew across the central park and through the city. Jerome pointed to Brandt, who held up his left palm to block the incoming attack.

Lightning arced from the sky and followed Jerome’s point. The electric assault slammed into Brandt’s hand and flowed through Brandt’s body. His robe began to smoke, and a dark circle was left behind from where the electricity had landed. Branded breathed deeply as he recovered from the magic within the assault.

Brandt was certainly the more powerful of the two as far as the realm of magic, but Jerome’s constant involvement with nature had made him considerably tougher. A battle of pure damage would not bode well for Brandt. Even though Jerome was the weaker of the two in magic, he would outlast Brandt in a simple exchange of assaults. 

Brandt would need to end this quickly, before all of Eberdeen was consumed in Jerome’s magical summoning. “Zysh Sooth Shindar.”

Jerome braced himself for the magical attack, but an attack never came. When he realized that the power of Brandt’s spell would not have been enough to affect him anyway, he smiled. “You have become weak, wizard? Then I will strike you down! Thin quas Zecka Diast.” Another lightning bolt descended and flowed through Brandt’s body and into the ground.

Before Brandt could recover, the fiery creature summoned by Jerome slashed hard at him and caught him in the side with his axe. His robes were bloodied, but fortunately his divine agents came to his aid. The humming of one of the orbs increased, and the pale yellow glow of Reah’s healing surrounded his newest wound and sealed it. The other two orbs continued their assault of light upon the fiery creature. It appeared as though they had gotten its attention and it would leave Brandt’s vicinity.

Brandt knew that he could not survive another assault of the magnitude that Jerome could bring down from the storm. He was glad that his earlier spell had deceived Jerome. The spell was not a spell of combat as Jerome had assumed. In fact, the spell had heightened Brandt’s aptitude for the coming magical attack. He grinned towards Jerome as he pointed towards his enemy. Only then did he notice that his robe was now singed, and of course still smoking. “Zysh Umaam Diast.”

There was no excitement in Brandt’s voice. There was only the recognition of more pain. Jerome was struck by the sheer magnitude of Brandt’s spell. Boils and blisters immediately broke out over Jerome’s face, hands, arms, legs, and feet. His mind instantly blanked as if he had lost all personality, spirit, and intellect. Small strings of drool quickly gathered along his parted lips and slowly dripped out of his mouth. The dark clouds above the city vanished as quickly as they had come now that Jerome was no longer mentally able to contain the magical power that bound them to his location.

Brandt stepped towards Jerome. His spell had worked. “You have given the city quite a show, sir. They will long talk about the day that lightning struck twice and the park grass blackened from fire. But they will not know why. You and your now feeble mind are coming with me.”

Jerome groaned in horror, but Brandt’s spell now meant that he no longer knew enough words to even try and object. Brandt held out a finger in his direction. “I can kill you with one word, now that you can no longer defend yourself from my magical assaults. Resist and you will force my hand to kill you. Kneel, and I will spare your life and take you to justice.”

More drool dripped from Jerome’s mouth as he leaned forward to kneel. Brandt had once again beaten one of the wizard’s servants. Like the last battle, this one had nearly cost him more than he was able to give.

Brandt turned to his divine agents. “Drive the fiery beast back to the center of the world from which it came. Make sure that it does no harm to any person living in Eberdeen. Then you may return home and give my greetings and word of my devotion to Reah.”

The orbs began to slowly circle around the fiery creature and assault it from every side. It wouldn’t take long for the creature to be defeated. Their combined mobility and ability to fly kept them safe from the attacks of the creature.

Brandt turned back to Jerome. “Oh, one more thing. Ophee hasn’t passed her usefulness. In fact, she isn’t even dead. She is the one who sent me after you. Thank Reah that I value life and not only its usefulness. Your current state of drooling and your inability to think and speak doesn’t give you a very high rating on the current scale of useful life forms.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 12, 2007)

Ischarus knew that his fight would not be easy.  Ophee had already clued him in to that much.  He looked deeply into the crystal ball one more time to look at his mark.  Darr was not a large man, but his body movements suggested a highly toned muscular system underneath his clothing.

He recalled to his mind the conversation in which Ophee had told the party of her counterparts.  He distinctly remembered Ophee proclaiming confidence in each match-up she suggested except his own.  Of course, by this point in time he could no longer be sure if that was actually the way it happened or if that was merely his perception of Ophee’s words.  Either way, the next few minutes would likely end in bloodshed and pain, but hopefully it would not end in death for either person.

He turned to look around the room and could see into the crystal balls that Master Searthu was using to keep track on the others.  Each of them had just begun their mission, and it was time for him to go.  He caught Master Searthu’s eyes as the fingers on his gloved right hand reached the gold ring on his left ring finger.  Master Searthu did not speak, but he did smile and nod encouragingly.  Ischarus smiled and swallowed hard before giving the ring a simple twist.  Soon Ischarus could see the room waver in front of him, only to change to the room that held Darr.

Ischarus spoke before Darr had a chance to realize that he had been joined by another person.  “Darr or Juniper, who is working under the wizard of Eberdeen, I have come to inquire of your motions and inform you of the capacity of evil that your master has installed within you.  You have the right to listen to what I have to say without the use of force.”

Darr’s shoulder’s jumped instinctively at the surprise of Ischarus’ voice.  Much to Ischarus’ surprise, however, Darr did not turn around in his surprise.  The man managed to quickly regain his composure and in a bold act of confidence keep his back to Ischarus.  “You come unannounced and unwelcome into my house and it is I who have to listen to your pronouncements of justice?  Tell me how that makes any sense.”

Ischarus smiled.  He could see Darr’s hand slowly moving to the hilt of the large sword that hung at his side.  He knew that Darr was trying to use a period of parley to trick him.  There was little doubt that Darr was hoping to continue the discussion long enough for Ischarus to believe that Darr would not come against him and therefore let his guard down.  Once Darr recognized Ischarus relaxing through his speech, he would no doubt strike.

Ischarus would take no such chance.  “Ehoim nuan Egro.”  The arcane words slipped out of his mouth easily and the effect of the spell was immediate.  A magical vapor crept out from between the floorboards and quickly filled the small room.  Within a matter of seconds it was impossible to see a raised hand more than a single foot in front of one’s face.  Ischarus continued to speak as the magical effect took hold in the room.  “Don’t take me to be a fool, Darr.  I could see your hand reaching for your sword.  I offer up the spell to force a conversation.  You need to hear what I have to say before this comes to armed conflict.”

Ischarus could hear Darr chuckling across the room.  “Oh, and I suppose that makes you noble?  You have broken into my home and invaded my privacy.  And now you force me to endure your presences even more because I can’t see enough to defend myself as is my right?  That makes you anything but noble in my book, wizard.  For all I know, that could make you nothing but a thief.  You are likely robbing me blind without my being able to notice you doing so!”

Ischarus had managed to pick up on the faint sound of steel grating against steel.  He could also hear in Darr’s tone the way that he emphasized certain words in a well disguised ploy to cover the sound of his delicate footsteps across the room.  Thus when Darr’s blade quite accurately sliced through the precise location of where Ischarus’ head had been when he had last spoken, Ischarus was glad that he had made note of these things and moved towards the wall to his right.  Darr’s blade caught nothing but air and vapor.

Ischarus smiled at Darr’s ability, although he knew that Darr would have no chance at seeing the acknowledgment.  “You are not as helpless as you would have me believe, Darr.  You seem to have quite the ability to defend yourself with steel against a humble wizard thief.  So tell me, are you this cunning when the wizard in Eberdeen uses the Arum Dracunculus root upon you so that his bidding is flawlessly done?”

Darr offered up more laughter.  Ischarus was prepared for a sudden strike should Darr want to use the laughter to disguise the sound of a sudden charge, but the attack never came.  Instead, Darr spoke once more and carefully tried to disguise his cautious approach.  “The wizard does not need to use the root upon me, spell caster.  I do his bidding willingly.  He works with vast strokes to manipulate the pawns of this nation to establish the proper environment for his bidding.  I long to see him empowered and serve at his side as the commander of his army.  There is no need for him to use the Arum Dracunculus upon me.  There is little that he could ask me to do that I would not do voluntarily.”

Ischarus nodded as he quickly ducked and dove again to the right.  He had not picked up on Darr’s movements as well as the time before.  This time, Darr had anticipated Ischarus’ movement to the right and used a sweeping strike lower to the ground.  When Ischarus rose again to his feet, he noticed that his right ankle had been cut to the bone.  When he placed pressure upon the foot, there was a moment of intense pain.  Fortunately, the ankle bone had done its job.  Only the skin on the outside of the bone had been cut.  The muscles and tendons on the opposite side of the bone remained intact.  The pain from the cut skin would fade into a dull throb quickly enough; and at that point he would no longer be affected by the wound.  His ankle would bear weight well enough.

Darr had given Ischarus the information that he needed.  Ischarus now knew that Darr was aware of the wizard’s use of the Arum Dracunculus and gave his approval for its use.  He knew that this alone was enough to give him permission to use force to capture Darr.  He would not kill the man, but using force against him was completely justified by Darr’s earlier words and actions.

Of course, Ischarus chuckled to himself as he also realized that just because Darr was so willing did not mean that the wizard hadn’t used the Arum Dracunculus on him anyway.  From what they had seen with Ophee, the Arum Dracunculus would be a great tool to use in order to ensure foolproof loyalty and a victim who has no recollection with regard to the manner in which they had been used.  If the drug did not avail itself to the side of evil so easily, it would be a great tool.

Ischarus decided to play a little more cat and mouse while he set up his attack.  “You’ve no doubt noticed by the blood on your blade that you’ve wounded me, Darr.  Congratulations.  You should feel proud of yourself.  You’ve used your superior strength and steel to wound an already frail body.”  Ischarus allowed a bit of a mocking tone to find its way into his speech.

Darr didn’t take well to the mocking.  “It isn’t my fault that your first spell was a poor choice!  If you cast a spell that hinders you more than it hinders me, I am not to blame.”

There was no strike from Darr that came with the last expression.  Darr had remained motionless, as if he began to expect Ischarus to magically attack him.  Ischarus knew that his ploy had worked.  His tone had given away that he was planning something, but his words had deceived Darr in guessing what form the attack would take.  Now was the time to convince Darr of the method of attack.  “Lishtal Sooth Egro.”

Ischarus looked down to his own sword, which still rested within its scabbard.  The blade glowed deep red for an instant, but the glow was largely obscured by the scabbard.  He could see that the spell had taken effect, but he was sure that Darr would not be able to see the blade through the misty vapor that still clung around the room.

Darr ducked and rolled to the left at the sound of Ischarus’ magical command.  He couldn’t be sure what the magical command would attempt to do, but he had been certain that Ischarus was going to try and use magic to attack him.  He rose to his feet when he realized that Ischarus’ magical command had taken no effect upon him.  “So, wizard, your spell could not touch me.”

Ischarus was waiting for Darr’s ego to show itself.  He knew himself well enough to realize that no good swordsman was free from an ego and they were also prone to reacting in overconfidence.  He also knew this was quite true of wizards.  When Darr’s ego reared its expected head, Ischarus drew his sword in a flash of movement and dismissed the arcane fog that held the room in waiting.  As the fog dropped out of the air and magically seeped back between the floorboards, Ischarus leapt at where he knew Darr would be standing.  His blade continued to glow faintly red as it was drawn, and the steel seemed possessed in its desire to wound Darr.  Ischarus had completely caught Darr off guard and landed a solid strike.  The thick and almost viscous magic contained in the blade slid off of the sword and collected in Darr’s wound, increasing the pain and blood loss.

Darr moved with the pain and used his own blade to swipe Ischarus’ steel to the side after it had done its damage.  Ischarus knew that there would be no more surprises.  He paused for a moment as both he and Darr drew their blades into a ready position.  “You’re wrong, Darr.  It would seem that my spell did in fact touch you – and touch you well.”

Darr curled his upper lip in a snarl.  “It appears that I have been wrong twice then.  You are no wizard and you are no thief.  You are some sort of ugly hybrid.  You have polluted steel with an inner dependence upon magic.  But I will not underestimate you again.”

Darr’s blade swung through the air and connected with Ischarus’ shoulder.  The blade bit hard, but without the magic supplement that had given Ischarus an edge the attack was no worse than what mundane strike Ischarus had given to him.  The look on Darr’s face indicated that he was pleased with the strike.

Ischarus stepped back and just out of Darr’s range with his long sword.  He had prepared magic for this battle, and there was no sense in not using it.  “Zysh Umaam Egro.”

Darr wasn’t fooled twice, however.  He didn’t expect Ischarus’ spell to affect him.  As soon as Ischarus moved back and spoke the words, Darr stepped up and swung hard towards Ischarus.  It was clear that he had thrown everything he had into the mighty swing in an attempt to disrupt the magic flowing through Ischarus.  Ischarus managed to barely hoist the blade of his sword high enough in time to deflect the angle of Darr’s attack.  

The blow knocked Ischarus’ blade awkwardly backwards over his left shoulder, but Ischarus didn’t seem concerned.  He took his eyes off of Darr for just a moment as he spun around in order to maintain the grip on his blade.  As he completed the spin, the magic from the previous spell guided his hands and put the swing right on a path for Darr’s thigh.  The steel bit deep and hard, and Ischarus rose up to a defensive position.  “Might doesn’t always make right as you suggest, Darr.  But magic and steel do make good bedfellows.”

Darr growled again and caught Ischarus with a sturdy angular slash.  Ischarus could tell that Darr was frustrated by the fact that the ceiling prevented Darr from performing an overhead smash.  The slice, however, managed to find a way through parts of Ischarus’ leather and leave several trails of blood.  It would only mean more mending work for Ischarus when this fight was concluded.

Ischarus had accepted the blow because he knew that Darr was set up for his pièce de résistance.  Darr was trying to overcompensate for Ischarus’ ability to do magical damage with his own strength.  Rather than fighting smart as before, now Darr was simply fighting hard.  Up until Darr’s last strike, Ischarus was not sure of his ability to win.  Darr’s impulsive strike demonstrated to Ischarus that his opponent was convinced of Ischarus’ superiority.  That could only mean that Darr was close to losing.

Ischarus twisted the blade around his shoulder as he cast one final spell.  “Thin Zecka Egro.”  His face instinctively broke into a smile as the very familiar words passed across his lips.

A static charge bounced out from the leather glove that covered his right hand.  The charge arced as if it were several small lightning bolts bouncing up and down the blade.  When Ischarus brought the blade forward and cut into Darr, the receiver of the impressive blow convulsed with the delivery of the static charge.  The long sword dropped out of Darr’s hands and clanged noisily to the floor.  Darr fell to the ground and was unconscious before he even made contact.

Ischarus knelt beside him and shook his head.  “You could have been formidable, but in the end you just weren’t worth the worry.”  Ischarus’ gloved fingers reached for the gold ring as the hand with the ring gripped Darr’s left arm.  With a single twist of the ring, both he and Darr returned to Master Searthu’s office.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus knew that his fight would not be easy. Ophee had already clued him in to that much. He looked deeply into the crystal ball one more time to look at his mark. Darr was not a large man, but his body movements suggested a highly toned muscular system underneath his clothing.

He recalled to his mind the conversation in which Ophee had told the party of her counterparts. He distinctly remembered Ophee proclaiming confidence in each match-up she suggested except his own. Of course, by this point in time he could no longer be sure if that was actually the way it happened or if that was merely his perception of Ophee’s words. Either way, the next few minutes would likely end in bloodshed and pain, but hopefully it would not end in death for either person.

He turned to look around the room and could see into the crystal balls that Master Searthu was using to keep track on the others. Each of them had just begun their mission, and it was time for him to go. He caught Master Searthu’s eyes as the fingers on his gloved right hand reached the gold ring on his left ring finger. Master Searthu did not speak, but he did smile and nod encouragingly. Ischarus smiled and swallowed hard before giving the ring a simple twist. Soon Ischarus could see the room waver in front of him, only to change to the room that held Darr.

Ischarus spoke before Darr had a chance to realize that he had been joined by another person. “Darr or Juniper, who is working under the wizard of Eberdeen, I have come to inquire of your motions and inform you of the capacity of evil that your master has installed within you. You have the right to listen to what I have to say without the use of force.”

Darr’s shoulder’s jumped instinctively at the surprise of Ischarus’ voice. Much to Ischarus’ surprise, however, Darr did not turn around in his surprise. The man managed to quickly regain his composure and in a bold act of confidence keep his back to Ischarus. “You come unannounced and unwelcome into my house and it is I who have to listen to your pronouncements of justice? Tell me how that makes any sense.”

Ischarus smiled. He could see Darr’s hand slowly moving to the hilt of the large sword that hung at his side. He knew that Darr was trying to use a period of parley to trick him. There was little doubt that Darr was hoping to continue the discussion long enough for Ischarus to believe that Darr would not come against him and therefore let his guard down. Once Darr recognized Ischarus relaxing through his speech, he would no doubt strike.

Ischarus would take no such chance. “Ehoim nuan Egro.” The arcane words slipped out of his mouth easily and the effect of the spell was immediate. A magical vapor crept out from between the floorboards and quickly filled the small room. Within a matter of seconds it was impossible to see a raised hand more than a single foot in front of one’s face. Ischarus continued to speak as the magical effect took hold in the room. “Don’t take me to be a fool, Darr. I could see your hand reaching for your sword. I offer up the spell to force a conversation. You need to hear what I have to say before this comes to armed conflict.”

Ischarus could hear Darr chuckling across the room. “Oh, and I suppose that makes you noble? You have broken into my home and invaded my privacy. And now you force me to endure your presences even more because I can’t see enough to defend myself as is my right? That makes you anything but noble in my book, wizard. For all I know, that could make you nothing but a thief. You are likely robbing me blind without my being able to notice you doing so!”

Ischarus had managed to pick up on the faint sound of steel grating against steel. He could also hear in Darr’s tone the way that he emphasized certain words in a well disguised ploy to cover the sound of his delicate footsteps across the room. Thus when Darr’s blade quite accurately sliced through the precise location of where Ischarus’ head had been when he had last spoken, Ischarus was glad that he had made note of these things and moved towards the wall to his right. Darr’s blade caught nothing but air and vapor.

Ischarus smiled at Darr’s ability, although he knew that Darr would have no chance at seeing the acknowledgment. “You are not as helpless as you would have me believe, Darr. You seem to have quite the ability to defend yourself with steel against a humble wizard thief. So tell me, are you this cunning when the wizard in Eberdeen uses the Arum Dracunculus root upon you so that his bidding is flawlessly done?”

Darr offered up more laughter. Ischarus was prepared for a sudden strike should Darr want to use the laughter to disguise the sound of a sudden charge, but the attack never came. Instead, Darr spoke once more and carefully tried to disguise his cautious approach. “The wizard does not need to use the root upon me, spell caster. I do his bidding willingly. He works with vast strokes to manipulate the pawns of this nation to establish the proper environment for his bidding. I long to see him empowered and serve at his side as the commander of his army. There is no need for him to use the Arum Dracunculus upon me. There is little that he could ask me to do that I would not do voluntarily.”

Ischarus nodded as he quickly ducked and dove again to the right. He had not picked up on Darr’s movements as well as the time before. This time, Darr had anticipated Ischarus’ movement to the right and used a sweeping strike lower to the ground. When Ischarus rose again to his feet, he noticed that his right ankle had been cut to the bone. When he placed pressure upon the foot, there was a moment of intense pain. Fortunately, the ankle bone had done its job. Only the skin on the outside of the bone had been cut. The muscles and tendons on the opposite side of the bone remained intact. The pain from the cut skin would fade into a dull throb quickly enough; and at that point he would no longer be affected by the wound. His ankle would bear weight well enough.

Darr had given Ischarus the information that he needed. Ischarus now knew that Darr was aware of the wizard’s use of the Arum Dracunculus and gave his approval for its use. He knew that this alone was enough to give him permission to use force to capture Darr. He would not kill the man, but using force against him was completely justified by Darr’s earlier words and actions.

Of course, Ischarus chuckled to himself as he also realized that just because Darr was so willing did not mean that the wizard hadn’t used the Arum Dracunculus on him anyway. From what they had seen with Ophee, the Arum Dracunculus would be a great tool to use in order to ensure foolproof loyalty and a victim who has no recollection with regard to the manner in which they had been used. If the drug did not avail itself to the side of evil so easily, it would be a great tool.

Ischarus decided to play a little more cat and mouse while he set up his attack. “You’ve no doubt noticed by the blood on your blade that you’ve wounded me, Darr. Congratulations. You should feel proud of yourself. You’ve used your superior strength and steel to wound an already frail body.” Ischarus allowed a bit of a mocking tone to find its way into his speech.

Darr didn’t take well to the mocking. “It isn’t my fault that your first spell was a poor choice! If you cast a spell that hinders you more than it hinders me, I am not to blame.”

There was no strike from Darr that came with the last expression. Darr had remained motionless, as if he began to expect Ischarus to magically attack him. Ischarus knew that his ploy had worked. His tone had given away that he was planning something, but his words had deceived Darr in guessing what form the attack would take. Now was the time to convince Darr of the method of attack. “Lishtal Sooth Egro.”

Ischarus looked down to his own sword, which still rested within its scabbard. The blade glowed deep red for an instant, but the glow was largely obscured by the scabbard. He could see that the spell had taken effect, but he was sure that Darr would not be able to see the blade through the misty vapor that still clung around the room.

Darr ducked and rolled to the left at the sound of Ischarus’ magical command. He couldn’t be sure what the magical command would attempt to do, but he had been certain that Ischarus was going to try and use magic to attack him. He rose to his feet when he realized that Ischarus’ magical command had taken no effect upon him. “So, wizard, your spell could not touch me.”

Ischarus was waiting for Darr’s ego to show itself. He knew himself well enough to realize that no good swordsman was free from an ego and they were also prone to reacting in overconfidence. He also knew this was quite true of wizards. When Darr’s ego reared its expected head, Ischarus drew his sword in a flash of movement and dismissed the arcane fog that held the room in waiting. As the fog dropped out of the air and magically seeped back between the floorboards, Ischarus leapt at where he knew Darr would be standing. His blade continued to glow faintly red as it was drawn, and the steel seemed possessed in its desire to wound Darr. Ischarus had completely caught Darr off guard and landed a solid strike. The thick and almost viscous magic contained in the blade slid off of the sword and collected in Darr’s wound, increasing the pain and blood loss.

Darr moved with the pain and used his own blade to swipe Ischarus’ steel to the side after it had done its damage. Ischarus knew that there would be no more surprises. He paused for a moment as both he and Darr drew their blades into a ready position. “You’re wrong, Darr. It would seem that my spell did in fact touch you – and touch you well.”

Darr curled his upper lip in a snarl. “It appears that I have been wrong twice then. You are no wizard and you are no thief. You are some sort of ugly hybrid. You have polluted steel with an inner dependence upon magic. But I will not underestimate you again.”

Darr’s blade swung through the air and connected with Ischarus’ shoulder. The blade bit hard, but without the magic supplement that had given Ischarus an edge the attack was no worse than what mundane strike Ischarus had given to him. The look on Darr’s face indicated that he was pleased with the strike.

Ischarus stepped back and just out of Darr’s range with his long sword. He had prepared magic for this battle, and there was no sense in not using it. “Zysh Umaam Egro.”

Darr wasn’t fooled twice, however. He didn’t expect Ischarus’ spell to affect him. As soon as Ischarus moved back and spoke the words, Darr stepped up and swung hard towards Ischarus. It was clear that he had thrown everything he had into the mighty swing in an attempt to disrupt the magic flowing through Ischarus. Ischarus managed to barely hoist the blade of his sword high enough in time to deflect the angle of Darr’s attack. 

The blow knocked Ischarus’ blade awkwardly backwards over his left shoulder, but Ischarus didn’t seem concerned. He took his eyes off of Darr for just a moment as he spun around in order to maintain the grip on his blade. As he completed the spin, the magic from the previous spell guided his hands and put the swing right on a path for Darr’s thigh. The steel bit deep and hard, and Ischarus rose up to a defensive position. “Might doesn’t always make right as you suggest, Darr. But magic and steel do make good bedfellows.”

Darr growled again and caught Ischarus with a sturdy angular slash. Ischarus could tell that Darr was frustrated by the fact that the ceiling prevented Darr from performing an overhead smash. The slice, however, managed to find a way through parts of Ischarus’ leather and leave several trails of blood. It would only mean more mending work for Ischarus when this fight was concluded.

Ischarus had accepted the blow because he knew that Darr was set up for his pièce de résistance. Darr was trying to overcompensate for Ischarus’ ability to do magical damage with his own strength. Rather than fighting smart as before, now Darr was simply fighting hard. Up until Darr’s last strike, Ischarus was not sure of his ability to win. Darr’s impulsive strike demonstrated to Ischarus that his opponent was convinced of Ischarus’ superiority. That could only mean that Darr was close to losing.

Ischarus twisted the blade around his shoulder as he cast one final spell. “Thin Zecka Egro.” His face instinctively broke into a smile as the very familiar words passed across his lips.

A static charge bounced out from the leather glove that covered his right hand. The charge arced as if it were several small lightning bolts bouncing up and down the blade. When Ischarus brought the blade forward and cut into Darr, the receiver of the impressive blow convulsed with the delivery of the static charge. The long sword dropped out of Darr’s hands and clanged noisily to the floor. Darr fell to the ground and was unconscious before he even made contact.

Ischarus knelt beside him and shook his head. “You could have been formidable, but in the end you just weren’t worth the worry.” Ischarus’ gloved fingers reached for the gold ring as the hand with the ring gripped Darr’s left arm. With a single twist of the ring, both he and Darr returned to Master Searthu’s office.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 15, 2007)

In many cases, the party returned to Master Searthu’s office only moments after leaving.  The meetings that resulted in individual battles took the least amount of time. Semeion, Ischarus, and Brandt returned to the office first.  Fortunately, Master Searthu had arranged for a significant number of acolytes and even a few city guards to be waiting for the party’s return.

Semeion returned first, and Master Searthu had heard Semeion’s warning after his battle with Barra in the town of Classo.  The guards and acolytes were ready to handle the large woman well before Semeion’s magical hypnotic trance wore off.  Barra was able to be taken into custody and transported to a holding cell in the city jail without much use of force.

The same was true of Jerome.  By the time Brandt had finished with the most formidable of the wizard’s servants, there was little remaining of his mind.  As Brandt and Jerome returned, the acolytes and the city guard were faced with handling a man who barely had the mental prowess to regulate his own body functions.  However, this didn’t stop Brandt from offering up a few words of caution to the acolytes and the guards.  “Be extra careful with Jerome, for a couple of reasons.  First of all, his mind has been made so feeble that he really is a danger to himself.  Until the spell wears off, I would recommend making sure that you are diligent about keeping him safe.  However, make sure that he gets into a magically warded cell as soon as possible.  Because once the spell does wear off, he’ll be quite a terror in the jail without prevention of his arcane powers.”

Unlike the others who returned at the very least conscious, Darr returned with Ischarus as a comatose lump on the floor.  Ischarus had been forced to push Darr’s body to the brink of death so that he could be transported.  Upon their return to Fingerdale, the remaining city guard made sure that he was secure before allowing the temple acolytes access to revive him.  Once he was healed enough that his body no longer felt imminent danger, Darr regained consciousness and became even more hostile than when he had been confronted by Ischarus.  The city guard had to forcibly get him to his feet and transport him out of the temple to the city jail.

Returning with the wizard’s three servants who had been more receptive to the party’s mission took a considerable amount of time more than the servants who had simply desired a contest of power.  Charis was the first to return with one of these three largely because her experience with Haroth had begun as a contest of might and only ended by coming to terms.  Semeion was pleased to see her return so quickly.

Haroth was greeted by Master Searthu as he and Charis returned.  “Welcome to Fingerdale, Haroth.  You’ve chosen to lay down your weapons and come peacefully.  So long as you honor that decision no harm will come to you here.  A few of my acolytes would like to take you to an examination room, where they will discover if the Arum Dracunculus has been used on you for brainwashing.  Once the examination has been completed, they will heal any wounds that remain from your conflict with Charis.”

Haroth looked upon the agreement with a certain amount of displeasure.  He hadn’t been fully convinced that what Charis had told him was true, but he was certainly in no position to argue and offer up resistance.  He left the room with several well armed acolytes and headed towards an examination room.

Rhema was the next to return, leaving Ophee as last.  Master Searthu gave the same greeting to Ehre that he had offered to Haroth.  Ehre looked as though she were above the need for any kind of examination, but when several acolytes approached her she realized that it wasn’t so much of a choice as a compulsion.  She did have a choice, but not the one she thought a person of her position should be offered.  She desired to not be examined.  Her choice was whether she would be examined honorably in the temple or as a prisoner in the city jail.  Quickly recognizing her options, Ehre capitulated without argument and chose to be examined in the temple.

Like Semeion before him, Ischarus greeted his wife with a giant hug.  Rhema returned the embrace, but showed much more concern for Ischarus’ wounds.  “You’ve been hurt, Ischarus!”

Ischarus nodded, but brushed off the comment.  “I’ve had worse.  Darr wasn’t too much of a difficulty once I made him mad.  He quickly moved from being a good tactician to simply being a brute.  Once he became a brute, he was easy to defeat.”  Rhema decided to say nothing more about the injuries.  Instead, she simply returned his embrace and held onto him for several seconds.

Ophee took the longest time before signaling to Master Searthu that she and Eliah were truly ready to be transported back to Fingerdale.  She had tried to move Eliah to a cooperative stance as quickly as possible for fear that the wizard in Eberdeen would begin to catch on to the party’s collective assaults on his servants.  She understood that she needed the safety of the Temple of Reah to shield herself and Eliah from the wizard’s ability to seek them out.  However, Eliah asked so many questions that she ended up staying with Eliah in Partuss far longer than she desired.

With each passing moment after the rest of the party had returned safely and their marks had been dealt with, Master Searthu and Master Brandt watched the arcane sight through the crystal ball that had been attuned to Eliah.  They watched for any sign that Ophee and Eliah might be in trouble.  Fortunately, there was no indication that the wizard in Eberdeen had become aware of the party’s efforts and soon enough Ophee and Eliah were returned to Fignerdale by Master Searthu’s magic.  Upon their return, Eliah was escorted to an examination room to determine if the Arum Dracunculus had been used on him as well.

Once they were inside the temple, Master Searthu dismissed his arcane spying spells.  The crystal balls each lost their image and faded into the picture of a swirling cloud.  The crystal balls looked as though each of them were filled with smoke as Master Searthu picked them up from the ground.  

Semeion was eager to follow behind him and collect the heavy black iron stands upon which the crystal balls had rested.  He marveled at the intricate carving along the each of the legs and supports of the stands.  He had a deep appreciation for the symbolic imagery and care for the arcane that Master Searthu demonstrated.

All of the stands had three legs, but some of the stands came together in the center before separating once more to provide prongs to support the crystal ball.  Each of these stands where carved to look like a hydra.  The legs of the iron stand were carved to look like the legs of the hydra.  The place where the legs came together was the hydra’s thick body.  Finally, the prongs separating from the body in order to hold the ball were carved into the shape of the various heads of the hydra.  Thus, the crystal ball seemed to rest upon the back of each of the hydra’s skulls.

Regarding the stands that did not come together in the center, these were designed so that the three legs actually rose straight into the air and became the supports for the crystal ball.  Each leg was carved to look like a gargoyle that was facing outward and supporting the weight of the ball upon its back between its shoulders.  The legs of the stand were connected together by iron that had been carved to look as though the wings of each gargoyle were spread out and touching the tips of the other two gargoyles’ wings.

Once the crystals had been collected, Master Searthu invited the party, Ophee, and Brandt to sit down so that they could plan the next stage of their quest against the wizard of Eberdeen.  Master Searthu’s office contained little furniture, so the group ended up sitting upon the plush carpet where Master Searthu had first placed the iron stands for the crystal balls.  By the thickness of the carpet, it was clear that Master Searthu had this carpet placed in his room to encourage sitting and meditation.

Brandt waited until everyone was seated before speaking.  “I think we should move against the wizard of Eberdeen before our advantage has been lost.”

Most of the party nodded in agreement, but Semeion shook his head from side to side.  “The wizard in Eberdeen has not been challenged today, and he is likely at a full state of preparedness.  Unless we strike at this very moment, he will likely have time to prepare himself for a strike which he can only assume will come quickly.  That window of opportunity is closing quickly.  We’d only have about an hour to act after he discovers that his servants have gone missing.  If we take longer than an hour, he’ll have time to prepare for our coming.”

Ischarus turned to Charis and grinned.  Her expression matched his own thoughts.  “Well, then let’s go get him.”

Rhema held up a cautious hand.  “Wait a minute.  We can’t go in there without some kind of plan.”

Semeion nodded in agreement.  “Besides, much of my magic is already spent.  I can feel the drain on my body already.  If we leave now, I’ll be all but useless.”

Brandt chuckled at Semeion’s assertion.  “That’s one of the reasons why I enjoy worshipping a goddess and studying the arcane arts.  It gives me a sense of being able to have the best of both worlds.”

Charis looked to Brandt with admiration regarding his assertion.  “And a good bit of versatility, I’d imagine.”

Master Searthu spoke for the first time since inviting the group to sit upon his carpet.  “Well, I did a bit of research while I was preparing for this moment.  The wizard’s college is warded against long range teleportation.  Only a person who is faculty at the wizard’s college can use a long range teleportation spell to gain access to the higher levels.  But, I believe there is a way that we can gain access if we use a short range teleport.  You see, the wizard’s college assumes that they’ll be able to deal with any threat that walks through its front door.  All we need to do is get inside the building and I think we can teleport anywhere we’d like.”

Rhema nodded along as Master Searthu spoke.  “So, we teleport to the surrounding area and walk in the front door.  That shouldn’t be too much of a difficult task, surely.”

Semeion again shook his head in disapproval.  “The only problem is that there is only one person here who has even been in to see the wizard’s office.  In order for us to be able to use teleportation magic and guarantee that we arrive precisely where we want to be, we must have visited the place so that we can give specific parameters to the spell.  Otherwise, some kind of grave mishap might occur.”

Brandt agreed with Semeion.  “Or, as the best case scenario we spend too much time teleporting to precisely the right place that someone in the wizard’s college picks up on our presence before we can get to the wizard that we seek.”

Charis spoke next.  She offered up what she hoped would be a solution.  “So, we give one of these rings to Ophee.  She can use the ring from inside the wizard’s college to teleport outside her old master’s office.  If she is holding onto Brandt of Master Searthu, then they could teleport back and pick up the rest of us.”

Master Searthu nodded slowly.  “That’s still a fair amount of time involved, and a fair amount of spell casting.  However, I have an alteration that I think might just work.  If I cast a magical spying sensor on Ophee and have her teleport, the sensor will find her in a second or two at the most at that short of a distance.  If I tie that sensor to a crystal ball, we can use the rings like before and teleport directly to where we want to go.  All that would matter is that I hold onto the crystal ball and make sure you all use the rings to teleport first.”

Brandt nodded firmly.  “That plan will work.  Can we be ready within the hour?  I think Semeion is right in that if we let the wizard in Eberdeen have more than an hour then we might as well wait until a new day has come and we are all fresh.  But if we can leave within the hour, we might be able to catch him off-guard.”

Everyone nodded except Semeion.  “As I said, my magic is all but spent.  I’ll be of little use to you.”

Brandt smirked at Semeion’s comment.  “No, I do believe that in the end you’ll prove to be quite useful.  Trust me.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
In many cases, the party returned to Master Searthu’s office only moments after leaving. The meetings that resulted in individual battles took the least amount of time. Semeion, Ischarus, and Brandt returned to the office first. Fortunately, Master Searthu had arranged for a significant number of acolytes and even a few city guards to be waiting for the party’s return.

Semeion returned first, and Master Searthu had heard Semeion’s warning after his battle with Barra in the town of Classo. The guards and acolytes were ready to handle the large woman well before Semeion’s magical hypnotic trance wore off. Barra was able to be taken into custody and transported to a holding cell in the city jail without much use of force.

The same was true of Jerome. By the time Brandt had finished with the most formidable of the wizard’s servants, there was little remaining of his mind. As Brandt and Jerome returned, the acolytes and the city guard were faced with handling a man who barely had the mental prowess to regulate his own body functions. However, this didn’t stop Brandt from offering up a few words of caution to the acolytes and the guards. “Be extra careful with Jerome, for a couple of reasons. First of all, his mind has been made so feeble that he really is a danger to himself. Until the spell wears off, I would recommend making sure that you are diligent about keeping him safe. However, make sure that he gets into a magically warded cell as soon as possible. Because once the spell does wear off, he’ll be quite a terror in the jail without prevention of his arcane powers.”

Unlike the others who returned at the very least conscious, Darr returned with Ischarus as a comatose lump on the floor. Ischarus had been forced to push Darr’s body to the brink of death so that he could be transported. Upon their return to Fingerdale, the remaining city guard made sure that he was secure before allowing the temple acolytes access to revive him. Once he was healed enough that his body no longer felt imminent danger, Darr regained consciousness and became even more hostile than when he had been confronted by Ischarus. The city guard had to forcibly get him to his feet and transport him out of the temple to the city jail.

Returning with the wizard’s three servants who had been more receptive to the party’s mission took a considerable amount of time more than the servants who had simply desired a contest of power. Charis was the first to return with one of these three largely because her experience with Haroth had begun as a contest of might and only ended by coming to terms. Semeion was pleased to see her return so quickly.

Haroth was greeted by Master Searthu as he and Charis returned. “Welcome to Fingerdale, Haroth. You’ve chosen to lay down your weapons and come peacefully. So long as you honor that decision no harm will come to you here. A few of my acolytes would like to take you to an examination room, where they will discover if the Arum Dracunculus has been used on you for brainwashing. Once the examination has been completed, they will heal any wounds that remain from your conflict with Charis.”

Haroth looked upon the agreement with a certain amount of displeasure. He hadn’t been fully convinced that what Charis had told him was true, but he was certainly in no position to argue and offer up resistance. He left the room with several well armed acolytes and headed towards an examination room.

Rhema was the next to return, leaving Ophee as last. Master Searthu gave the same greeting to Ehre that he had offered to Haroth. Ehre looked as though she were above the need for any kind of examination, but when several acolytes approached her she realized that it wasn’t so much of a choice as a compulsion. She did have a choice, but not the one she thought a person of her position should be offered. She desired to not be examined. Her choice was whether she would be examined honorably in the temple or as a prisoner in the city jail. Quickly recognizing her options, Ehre capitulated without argument and chose to be examined in the temple.

Like Semeion before him, Ischarus greeted his wife with a giant hug. Rhema returned the embrace, but showed much more concern for Ischarus’ wounds. “You’ve been hurt, Ischarus!”

Ischarus nodded, but brushed off the comment. “I’ve had worse. Darr wasn’t too much of a difficulty once I made him mad. He quickly moved from being a good tactician to simply being a brute. Once he became a brute, he was easy to defeat.” Rhema decided to say nothing more about the injuries. Instead, she simply returned his embrace and held onto him for several seconds.

Ophee took the longest time before signaling to Master Searthu that she and Eliah were truly ready to be transported back to Fingerdale. She had tried to move Eliah to a cooperative stance as quickly as possible for fear that the wizard in Eberdeen would begin to catch on to the party’s collective assaults on his servants. She understood that she needed the safety of the Temple of Reah to shield herself and Eliah from the wizard’s ability to seek them out. However, Eliah asked so many questions that she ended up staying with Eliah in Partuss far longer than she desired.

With each passing moment after the rest of the party had returned safely and their marks had been dealt with, Master Searthu and Master Brandt watched the arcane sight through the crystal ball that had been attuned to Eliah. They watched for any sign that Ophee and Eliah might be in trouble. Fortunately, there was no indication that the wizard in Eberdeen had become aware of the party’s efforts and soon enough Ophee and Eliah were returned to Fignerdale by Master Searthu’s magic. Upon their return, Eliah was escorted to an examination room to determine if the Arum Dracunculus had been used on him as well.

Once they were inside the temple, Master Searthu dismissed his arcane spying spells. The crystal balls each lost their image and faded into the picture of a swirling cloud. The crystal balls looked as though each of them were filled with smoke as Master Searthu picked them up from the ground. 

Semeion was eager to follow behind him and collect the heavy black iron stands upon which the crystal balls had rested. He marveled at the intricate carving along the each of the legs and supports of the stands. He had a deep appreciation for the symbolic imagery and care for the arcane that Master Searthu demonstrated.

All of the stands had three legs, but some of the stands came together in the center before separating once more to provide prongs to support the crystal ball. Each of these stands where carved to look like a hydra. The legs of the iron stand were carved to look like the legs of the hydra. The place where the legs came together was the hydra’s thick body. Finally, the prongs separating from the body in order to hold the ball were carved into the shape of the various heads of the hydra. Thus, the crystal ball seemed to rest upon the back of each of the hydra’s skulls.

Regarding the stands that did not come together in the center, these were designed so that the three legs actually rose straight into the air and became the supports for the crystal ball. Each leg was carved to look like a gargoyle that was facing outward and supporting the weight of the ball upon its back between its shoulders. The legs of the stand were connected together by iron that had been carved to look as though the wings of each gargoyle were spread out and touching the tips of the other two gargoyles’ wings.

Once the crystals had been collected, Master Searthu invited the party, Ophee, and Brandt to sit down so that they could plan the next stage of their quest against the wizard of Eberdeen. Master Searthu’s office contained little furniture, so the group ended up sitting upon the plush carpet where Master Searthu had first placed the iron stands for the crystal balls. By the thickness of the carpet, it was clear that Master Searthu had this carpet placed in his room to encourage sitting and meditation.

Brandt waited until everyone was seated before speaking. “I think we should move against the wizard of Eberdeen before our advantage has been lost.”

Most of the party nodded in agreement, but Semeion shook his head from side to side. “The wizard in Eberdeen has not been challenged today, and he is likely at a full state of preparedness. Unless we strike at this very moment, he will likely have time to prepare himself for a strike which he can only assume will come quickly. That window of opportunity is closing quickly. We’d only have about an hour to act after he discovers that his servants have gone missing. If we take longer than an hour, he’ll have time to prepare for our coming.”

Ischarus turned to Charis and grinned. Her expression matched his own thoughts. “Well, then let’s go get him.”

Rhema held up a cautious hand. “Wait a minute. We can’t go in there without some kind of plan.”

Semeion nodded in agreement. “Besides, much of my magic is already spent. I can feel the drain on my body already. If we leave now, I’ll be all but useless.”

Brandt chuckled at Semeion’s assertion. “That’s one of the reasons why I enjoy worshipping a goddess and studying the arcane arts. It gives me a sense of being able to have the best of both worlds.”

Charis looked to Brandt with admiration regarding his assertion. “And a good bit of versatility, I’d imagine.”

Master Searthu spoke for the first time since inviting the group to sit upon his carpet. “Well, I did a bit of research while I was preparing for this moment. The wizard’s college is warded against long range teleportation. Only a person who is faculty at the wizard’s college can use a long range teleportation spell to gain access to the higher levels. But, I believe there is a way that we can gain access if we use a short range teleport. You see, the wizard’s college assumes that they’ll be able to deal with any threat that walks through its front door. All we need to do is get inside the building and I think we can teleport anywhere we’d like.”

Rhema nodded along as Master Searthu spoke. “So, we teleport to the surrounding area and walk in the front door. That shouldn’t be too much of a difficult task, surely.”

Semeion again shook his head in disapproval. “The only problem is that there is only one person here who has even been in to see the wizard’s office. In order for us to be able to use teleportation magic and guarantee that we arrive precisely where we want to be, we must have visited the place so that we can give specific parameters to the spell. Otherwise, some kind of grave mishap might occur.”

Brandt agreed with Semeion. “Or, as the best case scenario we spend too much time teleporting to precisely the right place that someone in the wizard’s college picks up on our presence before we can get to the wizard that we seek.”

Charis spoke next. She offered up what she hoped would be a solution. “So, we give one of these rings to Ophee. She can use the ring from inside the wizard’s college to teleport outside her old master’s office. If she is holding onto Brandt of Master Searthu, then they could teleport back and pick up the rest of us.”

Master Searthu nodded slowly. “That’s still a fair amount of time involved, and a fair amount of spell casting. However, I have an alteration that I think might just work. If I cast a magical spying sensor on Ophee and have her teleport, the sensor will find her in a second or two at the most at that short of a distance. If I tie that sensor to a crystal ball, we can use the rings like before and teleport directly to where we want to go. All that would matter is that I hold onto the crystal ball and make sure you all use the rings to teleport first.”

Brandt nodded firmly. “That plan will work. Can we be ready within the hour? I think Semeion is right in that if we let the wizard in Eberdeen have more than an hour then we might as well wait until a new day has come and we are all fresh. But if we can leave within the hour, we might be able to catch him off-guard.”

Everyone nodded except Semeion. “As I said, my magic is all but spent. I’ll be of little use to you.”

Brandt smirked at Semeion’s comment. “No, I do believe that in the end you’ll prove to be quite useful. Trust me.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 24, 2007)

*Chapter Ten: YOU CAN’T GO BACK AGAIN*

The first of the two teleportations were easy to accomplish.  Master Searthu was easily able to place an arcane spying device just outside of the property for the Wizard’s College.  Once the arcane spying device was established, he tied it into a crystal ball and the party used the rings to teleport halfway across Tongra.  Before any of them could blink, they had changed location from Fingerdale to Eberdeen.

They saw once again how the Wizard’s College rose up from the ground, defying gravity with each additional floor of learning.  Ischarus pointed across a short stretch of grass to where they had been shown in on their last visit by Ophee’s former master.  “There!  Those doors are the way that we were brought into the building before.  Once inside, we might be able to teleport to where we need to go.”

There was little hesitation in Master Brandt’s steps.  He broke for the door, knowing that time was no longer their friend.  If there was one thing that he could be sure about it was that there was little sense in depending upon magic as much as they needed for this plan to succeed.  “If we are to win this day, we need to be quick.  Hurry, to the doors before our presence can be countered.”

The party was quick to respond, and only Master Searthu offered any kind of hesitation at all.  In what looked like a move to position himself so that he was protecting the rear flank of the party, he refocused his concentration over the magic sensor.  The arcane eye suddenly sprang into motion and hovered above Ophee as she moved.

In spite of their quick obedience to Master Brandt’s command, they were not nearly as quick as they needed to be in order to get through the doors unmolested.  A small group of eight guards flooded through the doorway and quickly formed a line of defense against the would-be intruders.  The guard in the center lifted a staff so that it was parallel to the ground at a height equal to his tall shoulders.  “Come no further until you have explained your presence!”

Brandt was in no apparent mood to play games with the guard of the wizard’s college.  He raised his hand above his head and yelled boldly as he continued the charge.  “Kashan Egro!”  Six of the eight guards twinkled as Brandt’s magic descended upon them.  Just after they began to twinkle, they wavered and then vanished completely.  Brandt smiled as his magic worked.

Ischarus was charging immediately behind Brandt.  “You killed six of them with a word of disintegration?”

Semeion chuckled as he drew his rapier.  “Not disintegration, Ischarus.  Dispelling.  Brandt threw up a word to dispel the illusions that we apparently saw as real.”

Brandt slowed down to allow Ischarus the ability to overtake his position.  “Not even I saw all the ones that vanished as illusions.  There is a chance that the remaining two are illusions yet.  Try to disbelieve them!”

There was no indication from the rest of the party that the remaining two were actually illusions.  Ischarus surged past Brandt and draw his sword in a wide arc through the air.  His blade caught the left arm of the guard who held the staff.  The guard winced as he drew the staff around to block another strike.

Charis leapt at the second remaining guard.  Her pick was already drawn and in motion.  The blow was blocked by the second guard’s defensive posturing.  The guard had drawn two daggers, and he brought them together and used the combined strength of both his wrists to catch the shaft of Charis’ pick.

The guard with the staff turned around in order to gather momentum for a strike.  He lengthened his grip on the staff so that he was only holding the very tip.  As the guard spun around, the momentum of the staff increased.  Ischarus was able to defeat the easily telegraphed attack by jamming the tip of his sword into the ground so that the blade faced into the oncoming strike.  The hollow bamboo pole thumped hard against the steel blade as a crack formed along the staff’s length.

Semeion approached the guard cautiously.  The one with the staff had demonstrated better skill with a weapon than he had hoped, and he didn’t want to be forced into using what little magic remained in his body.  He waited for the staff to strike Ischarus’ blade before launching a strike at the guard.  His hesitation allowed the guard plenty of time to set himself and dodge past the blow.

Likewise, Rhema approached with caution and forced energy from her mind into her crystalline sword.  The crystal that hung around her neck spoke with authority, giving her encouragement with each step.  “You can be the hero, Rhema.  Use the sword like you know how to do.  Wait for the right moment.”  The crystal around her neck paused for just a moment before sensing the opening in the guard’s defenses. “Swing hard!”

The guard lively stepped out of the path of the swinging blade, exposing his feint.  He had used Rhema’s concentration against her.  She vowed that the next time would not fare quite so favorably for the guard.

Ischarus used Rhema’s distraction to the best of his ability.  He hoisted his blade out of the ground and into a wide arc above his head.  The guard had enough time to bring his staff above his head to try and block the blow, but Ischarus’ blade shattered the center of the staff where the crack had formed moments ago.  Ischarus’ blade cut deep into the guard’s left shoulder, sparing his life by inches.

The guard received the blow poorly, but handled the broken staff well.  It took him little time to reposition each half so that he essentially wielded two much smaller poles.  He twirled the poles around in several arcs before striking out at Ischarus.  Neither of the half staves connected against Ischarus.

Semeion stepped up and swung, feeling more confident upon seeing Ischarus’ blow.  Unfortunately, his aim was no better.  His blade slipped through the air and missed the guard’s shoulder considerably.

Once again Rhema’s crystalline assistant cheered her on.  “Strike more quickly, and lower this time.  Aim for his waist!”  Rhema thrust the blade for the guard’s midsection and she connected.  A blue glow dissipated from the blade as her stored psychic power slipped through the blade and into the wound.

The guard’s face wracked with pain and his hands clenched forcefully around the halves of the staff.  The section of the staff in his right hand shattered under the great strain and bamboo splinters bit into his hands.  The guard crumpled to his knees and then fell sideways into a comatose state.

The battle between Charis and the second guard had not fared well for either participant.  While the first guard had been triple teamed and brought low, neither Charis nor the second guard could even land a decent strike.  They continued to exchange block for blow until Charis was joined by her friends.  Even then, the guard was able to block all of the attacks for several sets of exchanges.

The defensive fighting eventually took its toll on the Wizard’s Tower guard.  Ischarus and Semeion were able to position themselves opposite one another while Charis and Rhema were able to do the same.  Before long, the party had coordinated attacks that even the best swordsman couldn’t block.

Charis began the assault by landing a solid blow with her pick.  As she struck, Semeion took advantage of the distraction and in turn pierced a hole with his rapier just under the guard’s right shoulder blade.  Rhema’s next attack missed, but it distracted the guard enough that Ischarus’ return smash cut deep into the guard’s leg.

The guard collapsed to the ground and begged for mercy.  “I yield, I cannot stand.  Don’t kill me!”

Nobody in the party could reply before they heard Brandt call from just inside the door that the guards had been protecting.  “Leave the bloody guard!  He’s nothing to us.  Get in here and move, now!”

The party followed Brandt’s command out of sheer instinct.  It was as though Brandt were a mother bear calling her cubs to safety.  The party saw that Brandt and Master Searthu had gained access to enough of the bottom of the wizard’s college to make the teleportation happen.  In fact, it appeared as though Ophee were already gone.  She had taken advantage of the party’s ability to handle the guards and moved into the Wizard’s College with Brandt and Master Searthu.

Master Searthu stared into a crystal ball.  Like Master Brandt, he was waiting for the cloud to clear and the image to resolve itself onto Ophee’s position.  Once that happened, the second teleportation could commence.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
*Chapter Ten: YOU CAN’T GO BACK AGAIN*

The first of the two teleportations were easy to accomplish. Master Searthu was easily able to place an arcane spying device just outside of the property for the Wizard’s College. Once the arcane spying device was established, he tied it into a crystal ball and the party used the rings to teleport halfway across Tongra. Before any of them could blink, they had changed location from Fingerdale to Eberdeen.

They saw once again how the Wizard’s College rose up from the ground, defying gravity with each additional floor of learning. Ischarus pointed across a short stretch of grass to where they had been shown in on their last visit by Ophee’s former master. “There! Those doors are the way that we were brought into the building before. Once inside, we might be able to teleport to where we need to go.”

There was little hesitation in Master Brandt’s steps. He broke for the door, knowing that time was no longer their friend. If there was one thing that he could be sure about it was that there was little sense in depending upon magic as much as they needed for this plan to succeed. “If we are to win this day, we need to be quick. Hurry, to the doors before our presence can be countered.”

The party was quick to respond, and only Master Searthu offered any kind of hesitation at all. In what looked like a move to position himself so that he was protecting the rear flank of the party, he refocused his concentration over the magic sensor. The arcane eye suddenly sprang into motion and hovered above Ophee as she moved.

In spite of their quick obedience to Master Brandt’s command, they were not nearly as quick as they needed to be in order to get through the doors unmolested. A small group of eight guards flooded through the doorway and quickly formed a line of defense against the would-be intruders. The guard in the center lifted a staff so that it was parallel to the ground at a height equal to his tall shoulders. “Come no further until you have explained your presence!”

Brandt was in no apparent mood to play games with the guard of the wizard’s college. He raised his hand above his head and yelled boldly as he continued the charge. “Kashan Egro!” Six of the eight guards twinkled as Brandt’s magic descended upon them. Just after they began to twinkle, they wavered and then vanished completely. Brandt smiled as his magic worked.

Ischarus was charging immediately behind Brandt. “You killed six of them with a word of disintegration?”

Semeion chuckled as he drew his rapier. “Not disintegration, Ischarus. Dispelling. Brandt threw up a word to dispel the illusions that we apparently saw as real.”

Brandt slowed down to allow Ischarus the ability to overtake his position. “Not even I saw all the ones that vanished as illusions. There is a chance that the remaining two are illusions yet. Try to disbelieve them!”

There was no indication from the rest of the party that the remaining two were actually illusions. Ischarus surged past Brandt and draw his sword in a wide arc through the air. His blade caught the left arm of the guard who held the staff. The guard winced as he drew the staff around to block another strike.

Charis leapt at the second remaining guard. Her pick was already drawn and in motion. The blow was blocked by the second guard’s defensive posturing. The guard had drawn two daggers, and he brought them together and used the combined strength of both his wrists to catch the shaft of Charis’ pick.

The guard with the staff turned around in order to gather momentum for a strike. He lengthened his grip on the staff so that he was only holding the very tip. As the guard spun around, the momentum of the staff increased. Ischarus was able to defeat the easily telegraphed attack by jamming the tip of his sword into the ground so that the blade faced into the oncoming strike. The hollow bamboo pole thumped hard against the steel blade as a crack formed along the staff’s length.

Semeion approached the guard cautiously. The one with the staff had demonstrated better skill with a weapon than he had hoped, and he didn’t want to be forced into using what little magic remained in his body. He waited for the staff to strike Ischarus’ blade before launching a strike at the guard. His hesitation allowed the guard plenty of time to set himself and dodge past the blow.

Likewise, Rhema approached with caution and forced energy from her mind into her crystalline sword. The crystal that hung around her neck spoke with authority, giving her encouragement with each step. “You can be the hero, Rhema. Use the sword like you know how to do. Wait for the right moment.” The crystal around her neck paused for just a moment before sensing the opening in the guard’s defenses. “Swing hard!”

The guard lively stepped out of the path of the swinging blade, exposing his feint. He had used Rhema’s concentration against her. She vowed that the next time would not fare quite so favorably for the guard.

Ischarus used Rhema’s distraction to the best of his ability. He hoisted his blade out of the ground and into a wide arc above his head. The guard had enough time to bring his staff above his head to try and block the blow, but Ischarus’ blade shattered the center of the staff where the crack had formed moments ago. Ischarus’ blade cut deep into the guard’s left shoulder, sparing his life by inches.

The guard received the blow poorly, but handled the broken staff well. It took him little time to reposition each half so that he essentially wielded two much smaller poles. He twirled the poles around in several arcs before striking out at Ischarus. Neither of the half staves connected against Ischarus.

Semeion stepped up and swung, feeling more confident upon seeing Ischarus’ blow. Unfortunately, his aim was no better. His blade slipped through the air and missed the guard’s shoulder considerably.

Once again Rhema’s crystalline assistant cheered her on. “Strike more quickly, and lower this time. Aim for his waist!” Rhema thrust the blade for the guard’s midsection and she connected. A blue glow dissipated from the blade as her stored psychic power slipped through the blade and into the wound.

The guard’s face wracked with pain and his hands clenched forcefully around the halves of the staff. The section of the staff in his right hand shattered under the great strain and bamboo splinters bit into his hands. The guard crumpled to his knees and then fell sideways into a comatose state.

The battle between Charis and the second guard had not fared well for either participant. While the first guard had been triple teamed and brought low, neither Charis nor the second guard could even land a decent strike. They continued to exchange block for blow until Charis was joined by her friends. Even then, the guard was able to block all of the attacks for several sets of exchanges.

The defensive fighting eventually took its toll on the Wizard’s Tower guard. Ischarus and Semeion were able to position themselves opposite one another while Charis and Rhema were able to do the same. Before long, the party had coordinated attacks that even the best swordsman couldn’t block.

Charis began the assault by landing a solid blow with her pick. As she struck, Semeion took advantage of the distraction and in turn pierced a hole with his rapier just under the guard’s right shoulder blade. Rhema’s next attack missed, but it distracted the guard enough that Ischarus’ return smash cut deep into the guard’s leg.

The guard collapsed to the ground and begged for mercy. “I yield, I cannot stand. Don’t kill me!”

Nobody in the party could reply before they heard Brandt call from just inside the door that the guards had been protecting. “Leave the bloody guard! He’s nothing to us. Get in here and move, now!”

The party followed Brandt’s command out of sheer instinct. It was as though Brandt were a mother bear calling her cubs to safety. The party saw that Brandt and Master Searthu had gained access to enough of the bottom of the wizard’s college to make the teleportation happen. In fact, it appeared as though Ophee were already gone. She had taken advantage of the party’s ability to handle the guards and moved into the Wizard’s College with Brandt and Master Searthu.

Master Searthu stared into a crystal ball. Like Master Brandt, he was waiting for the cloud to clear and the image to resolve itself onto Ophee’s position. Once that happened, the second teleportation could commence.

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 26, 2007)

Master Searthu had promised that it would only take his arcane sensor a few seconds to find Ophee once she teleported outside her old master’s office.  He was not wrong in his estimation.  By the time the party was able to swarm inside the doors and join the two followers of Reah, the crystal ball had cleared and teleportation was once more possible.

The party didn’t need to be told what to do.  Each of their fingers raced towards the gold ring on their hands and gave a quick twist as they focused on the scene before them in the crystal ball.  Once the party and Brandt had successfully left the bottom floor of the Wizard’s College, Master Searthu completed his own teleportation.  A new set of guards rounded a corner on the ground floor as the final follower of Reah disappeared before their eyes.

The party popped back into existence beside Ophee, and they were now several floors up in the Wizard’s College.  Brandt began shouting directions immediately.  “It won’t take them long to figure out where we’ve gone.  Semeion and Ophee, you’re with me.  Searthu, stay here with Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis and hold the door!”

Semeion gripped the handle of the door and twisted.  It was clearly locked, and his face showed displeasure at his inability to open the door.  He lowered a shoulder and tried to jar the door open, but the wooden frame seemed to laugh at the feeble attempt.

Brandt grinned.  “Move aside, Semeion.”  Brandt almost didn’t wait for Semeion to move before shouting his next magical command.  “Crang-d'hai Shintar.”

The door erupted into a mass of splinters.  The wood forced itself inward into the chambers where Ophee’s former master resided.  As the wood flew inward, the air was clouded and visibility was minimized.

Brant followed the surge of splinters inward, using the cover of the spray to gain entrance into the room.  Semeion grabbed Ophee’s arm as Brandt rushed by.  Once Brandt was through the door, Semeion pushed Ophee into the room with a shout.  “We’ve got to find your master before he has a chance to escape!”  He quickly disappeared into the room behind Ophee.

Master Searthu quickly organized the rest of the party into a protective line of defense.  He stood in front of the door and pointed to the left down the long narrow hall.  “Ischarus, take my left flank.  Rhema, take my right flank.  Charis, protect Rhema from a direct assault.”

The party quickly obeyed the command, knowing that their task would not be easy.  Ischarus adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword and yelled to Master Searthu over his left shoulder.  “Any guess as to the direction that they’re going to come.”

Rhema chuckled and answered, although she knew she wasn’t the one to whom the inquiry was directed.  “Both.  We’re on their turf, you know.  Once they know where we are, they’ll come from all directions.”

Master Searthu shook his head.  “We won’t even see them coming, I’d guess.  We’ve already demonstrated ourselves to be dangerous foes that can use magic to our own advantage.  They’ll respond in turn.  Whatever happens, expect magic to come and to come hard.”

Charis sucked in a deep breath and gripped the handle of her pick.  She offered up another prayer to the goddess who had comforted her so often in the past.  “Bemme, have mercy on our souls.  Allow our cause to be just, and let our love for freedom show through our assault.”

The hall was silent as Charis finished her prayer.  The rupturing door had settled inside the wizard’s office and the trio inside had moved off.  The foursome outside each felt their breathing slow in preparation for sudden movement.  It was clearly the calm before the incoming storm.

Inside the office, Brandt, Ophee, and Semeion found the first room deserted.  There were three possible choices in the form of archways leading out of the room.   There was one archway for each wall in the first room.  Ophee pointed to the doors quickly, moving left to right.  “Study, Library, Quarters.”

Brandt held out a steady hand.  “Stay together.  If we face this wizard alone we lose the advantage.  I’d rather that he escapes and we have to pursue him than to have one of us face him alone.”

Semeion and Ophee nodded to one another.  Brandt would lead.  If there was anyone in this group that could protect them from the wizard’s assaults it would be Brandt.

The priest of Reah paused for just a moment.  His hand slipped inside of his cloak and a slight smile crept over his face as he noticed Semeion and Ophee fall in line.  “I hope the wizard makes the same mistake that you each just made.”  He pulled out a simple wooden wand with a red tip.  “Take this.  The ability to cast the spell contained is well beyond your abilities.  But you just might be able to control a wand where the power has already been contained.”

Semeion took the wand.  He understood the message contained within Brandt’s words.  This wand held a significant key to containing the wizard’s power.  Ophee’s former master would expect it to come from Brandt, not him.  His eyes met Brandt’s eyes once more as soon as the wand was in his hand.  “The command?”

Brandt’s eyes danced a bit with mischievous intent.  “Command indeed.  Beissah Lahzuhto.”  He held a finger to his lips to remind Semeion to not speak the word while the wand was in his hand.

Semeion’s face paled at the realization that Brandt had given him a wand of such a high power.  Lahzuhto spells were not the kind of spells that he had any business casting.  He swallowed hard and nodded.

Brandt smiled and patted him on the shoulder.  “I’ve planned for this.  I’ve brought along a bit of parchment that will help stabilize your mind and clear your thoughts.  It will help you wrap your mind around the spell contained in the wand.”  He pulled the parchment out of a pocket and handed it to Semeion.  “Read it and cast the spell. Hurry.”

Semeion’s eyes scanned the words.  He was familiar with this spell.  “Zysh Sooth Aggior cadrass.”

Brandt turned to the three doors.  “Not in the quarters.  The library would contain too much valuable research.  He’ll be in the study, where he is used to teaching.”

Brandt passed through the arch in the direction that Ophee had stated in order to enter the wizard’s study.  He quickly spun around and allowed his voice to seep out through his teeth in a low tone.  “Empty.  Quarters, then.  He’d not fight in his library.”  Brandt charged across the room and passed through the doorway with Semeion and Ophee in tow.  

Inside the room, a man stood grinning in response to their approach.  “Ah, you have finally come back to me, Opheiluka.  And you have come to be my betrayer.  How touching, isn’t it?  Especially since I loved you so, taught you everything that you know, and gave you everything that you have.  We could have been so much together, Opheiluka.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Master Searthu had promised that it would only take his arcane sensor a few seconds to find Ophee once she teleported outside her old master’s office. He was not wrong in his estimation. By the time the party was able to swarm inside the doors and join the two followers of Reah, the crystal ball had cleared and teleportation was once more possible.

The party didn’t need to be told what to do. Each of their fingers raced towards the gold ring on their hands and gave a quick twist as they focused on the scene before them in the crystal ball. Once the party and Brandt had successfully left the bottom floor of the Wizard’s College, Master Searthu completed his own teleportation. A new set of guards rounded a corner on the ground floor as the final follower of Reah disappeared before their eyes.

The party popped back into existence beside Ophee, and they were now several floors up in the Wizard’s College. Brandt began shouting directions immediately. “It won’t take them long to figure out where we’ve gone. Semeion and Ophee, you’re with me. Searthu, stay here with Ischarus, Rhema, and Charis and hold the door!”

Semeion gripped the handle of the door and twisted. It was clearly locked, and his face showed displeasure at his inability to open the door. He lowered a shoulder and tried to jar the door open, but the wooden frame seemed to laugh at the feeble attempt.

Brandt grinned. “Move aside, Semeion.” Brandt almost didn’t wait for Semeion to move before shouting his next magical command. “Crang-d'hai Shintar.”

The door erupted into a mass of splinters. The wood forced itself inward into the chambers where Ophee’s former master resided. As the wood flew inward, the air was clouded and visibility was minimized.

Brant followed the surge of splinters inward, using the cover of the spray to gain entrance into the room. Semeion grabbed Ophee’s arm as Brandt rushed by. Once Brandt was through the door, Semeion pushed Ophee into the room with a shout. “We’ve got to find your master before he has a chance to escape!” He quickly disappeared into the room behind Ophee.

Master Searthu quickly organized the rest of the party into a protective line of defense. He stood in front of the door and pointed to the left down the long narrow hall. “Ischarus, take my left flank. Rhema, take my right flank. Charis, protect Rhema from a direct assault.”

The party quickly obeyed the command, knowing that their task would not be easy. Ischarus adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword and yelled to Master Searthu over his left shoulder. “Any guess as to the direction that they’re going to come.”

Rhema chuckled and answered, although she knew she wasn’t the one to whom the inquiry was directed. “Both. We’re on their turf, you know. Once they know where we are, they’ll come from all directions.”

Master Searthu shook his head. “We won’t even see them coming, I’d guess. We’ve already demonstrated ourselves to be dangerous foes that can use magic to our own advantage. They’ll respond in turn. Whatever happens, expect magic to come and to come hard.”

Charis sucked in a deep breath and gripped the handle of her pick. She offered up another prayer to the goddess who had comforted her so often in the past. “Bemme, have mercy on our souls. Allow our cause to be just, and let our love for freedom show through our assault.”

The hall was silent as Charis finished her prayer. The rupturing door had settled inside the wizard’s office and the trio inside had moved off. The foursome outside each felt their breathing slow in preparation for sudden movement. It was clearly the calm before the incoming storm.

Inside the office, Brandt, Ophee, and Semeion found the first room deserted. There were three possible choices in the form of archways leading out of the room. There was one archway for each wall in the first room. Ophee pointed to the doors quickly, moving left to right. “Study, Library, Quarters.”

Brandt held out a steady hand. “Stay together. If we face this wizard alone we lose the advantage. I’d rather that he escapes and we have to pursue him than to have one of us face him alone.”

Semeion and Ophee nodded to one another. Brandt would lead. If there was anyone in this group that could protect them from the wizard’s assaults it would be Brandt.

The priest of Reah paused for just a moment. His hand slipped inside of his cloak and a slight smile crept over his face as he noticed Semeion and Ophee fall in line. “I hope the wizard makes the same mistake that you each just made.” He pulled out a simple wooden wand with a red tip. “Take this. The ability to cast the spell contained is well beyond your abilities. But you just might be able to control a wand where the power has already been contained.”

Semeion took the wand. He understood the message contained within Brandt’s words. This wand held a significant key to containing the wizard’s power. Ophee’s former master would expect it to come from Brandt, not him. His eyes met Brandt’s eyes once more as soon as the wand was in his hand. “The command?”

Brandt’s eyes danced a bit with mischievous intent. “Command indeed. Beissah Lahzuhto.” He held a finger to his lips to remind Semeion to not speak the word while the wand was in his hand.

Semeion’s face paled at the realization that Brandt had given him a wand of such a high power. Lahzuhto spells were not the kind of spells that he had any business casting. He swallowed hard and nodded.

Brandt smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve planned for this. I’ve brought along a bit of parchment that will help stabilize your mind and clear your thoughts. It will help you wrap your mind around the spell contained in the wand.” He pulled the parchment out of a pocket and handed it to Semeion. “Read it and cast the spell. Hurry.”

Semeion’s eyes scanned the words. He was familiar with this spell. “Zysh Sooth Aggior cadrass.”

Brandt turned to the three doors. “Not in the quarters. The library would contain too much valuable research. He’ll be in the study, where he is used to teaching.”

Brandt passed through the arch in the direction that Ophee had stated in order to enter the wizard’s study. He quickly spun around and allowed his voice to seep out through his teeth in a low tone. “Empty. Quarters, then. He’d not fight in his library.” Brandt charged across the room and passed through the doorway with Semeion and Ophee in tow. 

Inside the room, a man stood grinning in response to their approach. “Ah, you have finally come back to me, Opheiluka. And you have come to be my betrayer. How touching, isn’t it? Especially since I loved you so, taught you everything that you know, and gave you everything that you have. We could have been so much together, Opheiluka.”
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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 28, 2007)

Ophee bumped past Brandt’s shoulders as she moved into the room.  “Loved me?  You used me to try and kill these people!  You brainwashed me using the Arum Dracunculus plant so that the people who trusted me would be innocently slain!”

Semeion started to move forward with Ophee, but Brandt hand out a hand to stop him.  The priest of Reah shook his head slowly as if to say that Ophee would need these answers.  Semeion’s hand clenched the wand that he had recently placed in his pocket.  The words for activating the wand were at the front of his mind.

The wizard grinned as Ophee spoke.  “Love always requires sacrifice, Opheiluka.  Think of marriage.  In order for a marriage to work, each member must be willing to suppress part of their independence and personality so that a joint personality might arise.”

Ophee moved to speak, but the wizard simply trumped her voice with a louder one.  “Think of your beloved friends, in that they are my pawns.  Every time they enter Quehalost there was a sacrifice.  They were sacrificing their freedom and possibly their lives for the mere chance to bring freedom to the dark land behind the mountains.  All love requires sacrifice, my dear Opheiluka.  The love we shared was to be no different.”

Ophee slowly shook her head.  “I have no love for you.  You offer nothing to me any more.”

The wizard slowly laughed.  “Then I suppose it is time that you earn your reward for the many roles that you have played in my overall plan.”

Ophee gripped the dagger at her side and drew it out with a fast motion.  “Go ahead.  I’m ready to die if necessary.”

The wizard’s laugh became even more boisterous.  “Die?  Are you not even curious just how many parts you have played under the force of the Arum Dracunculus?  I will be happy to kill you, but are you not even curious what secrets you will be taking to the grave?”

Semeion’s hand once more shot to the pocket that contained the wand.  It was one thing to speak of fighting, but as the conversation turned to that of death the tone changed.  This wizard could no doubt kill with a single word if he so desired.

Brandt glanced to Semeion and with a look he cautioned the young mage about telegraphing his action to the wizard.  There was no need to alert the wizard about the fact that Semeion was more of a threat than he could imagine.  The longer that secret stayed within the party the better chance this battle would end favorably.

Ophee twisted the dagger in her palm as she spoke in reply to the wizard’s assertion.  “Speak, then.  If you’re so vile that you not only must control the actions of other people but then tell them about those very deeds before killing them, then I will hear you out.  It will only fuel my desire to see this blade sink deeper into your cold black heart.”

The wizard laughed.  “Now I am beginning to love you even more than before.  You used to be innocent and I cherished that about you, Opheiluka.  But now I find this passion and hatred deep within you most desirous.  Had I known that you were capable of such depth in feeling, I would have drawn them out earlier.”

Ophee breathed in hard as she choked back a set of tears.  “Speak, or fight.  I care nothing for your torture.  Speak your peace or end this!”

Semeion and Brandt stepped up to flank Ophee.  It was clear that he still possessed some amount of control over her and she was having trouble fighting the conflict that was arising within her.  The time was drawing close that this conflict would need to find resolution.

The wizard stared at Ophee for a second.  “Very well, Opheiluka.  I will tell you of the dark role that you played in your own destruction.  I will show you to be the pawn that you never would have guessed yourself to be.  You see, it all began when you told me about a report that you heard regarding an amazing circumstance in Fingerdale.  You told me of the capture of a young Drakontos.  Specifically, it was almost a year ago that you told me about the tale of a battle you witnessed between a sword wielding man and a certain flame-haired Drakontos.”

Semeion nearly spat as he involuntarily shouted the name.  “Grick.”

The wizard smiled even more broadly.  “You remember him?  He’ll be so touched when tell him upon seeing to his release once you are all dead.  You see, when I heard about a flame-haired Drakontos this far north, I knew it could only mean one thing.  Someone had come out of Quehalost.  And if someone had come out of Quehalost, someone could go back in.”

Semeion’s eyes narrowed as he thought he was following the wizard’s line of thought.  “So why are we involved?  Why is Ophee involved?  I’m assuming this leads to the Arum Dracunculus.  Why did you choose us and not Grick?”

The wizard took his eyes off of Ophee for the first time since they had come into the room.  “When I interviewed Grick I discovered that he was far to hostile towards you all.  He told of you four and how you had twice traveled into Quehalost.  He told of your resourcefulness in finding a way to destroy his own father dragon.  Had I set Grick free, he would not have gotten the Arum Dracunculus for me.  He would have come straight after you all in revenge.  Since he was useless to me, I needed someone who would go into Quehalost and return.  I needed someone with a bit of honor.”

Semeion suddenly looked confused.  Something no longer added up.  “So, you took advantage of our need and used us to get the Arum Dracunculus?”

The wizard allowed a dark laugh to come from deep within his throat.  “Oh, it is far worse than that, Semeion.”  The young wizard’s name slithered out of the old wizard’s mouth like the hiss of a snake.  “I needed your skills.  I made the destruction of the villa possible.  Remember, I am an information broker.  I discovered that there was to be a time when the villa would be vacated.  I used the Arum Dracunculus on Opheiluka to make her the liaison between myself and Darkbringer.  With the destruction of the villa, I knew that you all would eventually come to me seeking answers that only I could provide.  Opheiluka was the one you sought this whole time, although she herself did not know that it was her voice that coordinated the whole attack.  How does that make you feel, my dear?”

Ophee’s skin crawled as the wizard’s glance shifted once more to her.  She couldn’t offer up any response.  She had unknowingly betrayed the very party who had come to help vindicate her name.  She had been used and discarded like broken terracotta.

The wizard continued.  “Why do you think Ophee was so easy to find in Fingerdale?  I knew your plans to search the taverns for Bloodseeker.  I told her where to go and what to say to make it sound like she would be helpful.  She didn’t know that she was Bloodseeker.  She didn’t know that until this very moment.  That is the power of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Ophee finally spoke.  She had begun to cry at the realization of all that her hands had been responsible for.  “I swear, Semeion.  If he’s telling the truth at all then he’s telling the whole truth.  I didn’t know any of this.”

Brandt placed a reassuring palm on Ophee’s shoulder.  “Of course you didn’t, Ophee.  We saw how the Arum Dracunculus worked in the barn.”

The wizard mocked Brandt.  “Of course you didn’t, Opheiluka.  But I didn’t see it work in the barn.  Someone hid your presence from me.”  The wizard stared into Brandt’s eyes.  “But that is no matter now.  I needed someone to go into Quehalost and retrieve the Arum Dracunculus for me.  To that end, you all were useful.  Now that you have accomplished that task, there is no reason to keep you alive.  I had hoped that Opheiluka would have killed you so that I could keep her alive and with me.  But as I said earlier, sometimes love requires sacrifice.  I hope you have considered that in your choice, my dear Opheiluka.”

Ophee drew her dagger back, but Semeion caught her in his arms for a moment.  He wasn’t yet done.  If he had the wizard figured out, he was too proud to refuse one final question.  “So, you used Ophee and us four to get you the Arum Dracunculus.  All for the ability to control people?  You would kill us because we know that you can control people?  Rhema can control people, and we aren’t willing to kill for her protection!”

The question was just enough to catch the wizard’s attention.  “I would kill you because you have knowledge that can be used against me.  Knowledge is power.  The one who controls the knowledge is the one who controls the power.  I have sent my servants to kill the king and lords of Tongra.  Once the king and his lords are dead, the land will be in a panic and searching for answers.  I will have the means to find those responsible.  Finding those responsible will elevate my position in popularity at just the right time – when the land is looking for new leadership.  I will be ushered in as the force that unified the Confederacy of Tongra into a single domain – my own arcane autocracy.  They don’t know it, but I will become the beloved of the people.  I will be their dictator.  Under my authority Tongra will dominate Enigmatica.”

The wizard’s voice had taken on a new tone.  The wizard was no longer speaking to any of the three present.  The wizard was caught up in his own personal dream and was talking as if there was some greater audience.  He was clearly delusional regarding the amount of power he could safely wield.

Ophee stopped struggling against Semeion’s resistance as her former master unfolded his plan.  The others couldn’t sense it, but there was a distinct change in the wizard who now stood before her.  This was no longer just her former master.  This man was something different – something else.  For a man who spent years in plotting a patient use of magic in order to learn secrets, the wizard seemed to be walking the fine line of going out of control.  


[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ophee bumped past Brandt’s shoulders as she moved into the room. “Loved me? You used me to try and kill these people! You brainwashed me using the Arum Dracunculus plant so that the people who trusted me would be innocently slain!”

Semeion started to move forward with Ophee, but Brandt hand out a hand to stop him. The priest of Reah shook his head slowly as if to say that Ophee would need these answers. Semeion’s hand clenched the wand that he had recently placed in his pocket. The words for activating the wand were at the front of his mind.

The wizard grinned as Ophee spoke. “Love always requires sacrifice, Opheiluka. Think of marriage. In order for a marriage to work, each member must be willing to suppress part of their independence and personality so that a joint personality might arise.”

Ophee moved to speak, but the wizard simply trumped her voice with a louder one. “Think of your beloved friends, in that they are my pawns. Every time they enter Quehalost there was a sacrifice. They were sacrificing their freedom and possibly their lives for the mere chance to bring freedom to the dark land behind the mountains. All love requires sacrifice, my dear Opheiluka. The love we shared was to be no different.”

Ophee slowly shook her head. “I have no love for you. You offer nothing to me any more.”

The wizard slowly laughed. “Then I suppose it is time that you earn your reward for the many roles that you have played in my overall plan.”

Ophee gripped the dagger at her side and drew it out with a fast motion. “Go ahead. I’m ready to die if necessary.”

The wizard’s laugh became even more boisterous. “Die? Are you not even curious just how many parts you have played under the force of the Arum Dracunculus? I will be happy to kill you, but are you not even curious what secrets you will be taking to the grave?”

Semeion’s hand once more shot to the pocket that contained the wand. It was one thing to speak of fighting, but as the conversation turned to that of death the tone changed. This wizard could no doubt kill with a single word if he so desired.

Brandt glanced to Semeion and with a look he cautioned the young mage about telegraphing his action to the wizard. There was no need to alert the wizard about the fact that Semeion was more of a threat than he could imagine. The longer that secret stayed within the party the better chance this battle would end favorably.

Ophee twisted the dagger in her palm as she spoke in reply to the wizard’s assertion. “Speak, then. If you’re so vile that you not only must control the actions of other people but then tell them about those very deeds before killing them, then I will hear you out. It will only fuel my desire to see this blade sink deeper into your cold black heart.”

The wizard laughed. “Now I am beginning to love you even more than before. You used to be innocent and I cherished that about you, Opheiluka. But now I find this passion and hatred deep within you most desirous. Had I known that you were capable of such depth in feeling, I would have drawn them out earlier.”

Ophee breathed in hard as she choked back a set of tears. “Speak, or fight. I care nothing for your torture. Speak your peace or end this!”

Semeion and Brandt stepped up to flank Ophee. It was clear that he still possessed some amount of control over her and she was having trouble fighting the conflict that was arising within her. The time was drawing close that this conflict would need to find resolution.

The wizard stared at Ophee for a second. “Very well, Opheiluka. I will tell you of the dark role that you played in your own destruction. I will show you to be the pawn that you never would have guessed yourself to be. You see, it all began when you told me about a report that you heard regarding an amazing circumstance in Fingerdale. You told me of the capture of a young Drakontos. Specifically, it was almost a year ago that you told me about the tale of a battle you witnessed between a sword wielding man and a certain flame-haired Drakontos.”

Semeion nearly spat as he involuntarily shouted the name. “Grick.”

The wizard smiled even more broadly. “You remember him? He’ll be so touched when tell him upon seeing to his release once you are all dead. You see, when I heard about a flame-haired Drakontos this far north, I knew it could only mean one thing. Someone had come out of Quehalost. And if someone had come out of Quehalost, someone could go back in.”

Semeion’s eyes narrowed as he thought he was following the wizard’s line of thought. “So why are we involved? Why is Ophee involved? I’m assuming this leads to the Arum Dracunculus. Why did you choose us and not Grick?”

The wizard took his eyes off of Ophee for the first time since they had come into the room. “When I interviewed Grick I discovered that he was far to hostile towards you all. He told of you four and how you had twice traveled into Quehalost. He told of your resourcefulness in finding a way to destroy his own father dragon. Had I set Grick free, he would not have gotten the Arum Dracunculus for me. He would have come straight after you all in revenge. Since he was useless to me, I needed someone who would go into Quehalost and return. I needed someone with a bit of honor.”

Semeion suddenly looked confused. Something no longer added up. “So, you took advantage of our need and used us to get the Arum Dracunculus?”

The wizard allowed a dark laugh to come from deep within his throat. “Oh, it is far worse than that, Semeion.” The young wizard’s name slithered out of the old wizard’s mouth like the hiss of a snake. “I needed your skills. I made the destruction of the villa possible. Remember, I am an information broker. I discovered that there was to be a time when the villa would be vacated. I used the Arum Dracunculus on Opheiluka to make her the liaison between myself and Darkbringer. With the destruction of the villa, I knew that you all would eventually come to me seeking answers that only I could provide. Opheiluka was the one you sought this whole time, although she herself did not know that it was her voice that coordinated the whole attack. How does that make you feel, my dear?”

Ophee’s skin crawled as the wizard’s glance shifted once more to her. She couldn’t offer up any response. She had unknowingly betrayed the very party who had come to help vindicate her name. She had been used and discarded like broken terracotta.

The wizard continued. “Why do you think Ophee was so easy to find in Fingerdale? I knew your plans to search the taverns for Bloodseeker. I told her where to go and what to say to make it sound like she would be helpful. She didn’t know that she was Bloodseeker. She didn’t know that until this very moment. That is the power of the Arum Dracunculus.”

Ophee finally spoke. She had begun to cry at the realization of all that her hands had been responsible for. “I swear, Semeion. If he’s telling the truth at all then he’s telling the whole truth. I didn’t know any of this.”

Brandt placed a reassuring palm on Ophee’s shoulder. “Of course you didn’t, Ophee. We saw how the Arum Dracunculus worked in the barn.”

The wizard mocked Brandt. “Of course you didn’t, Opheiluka. But I didn’t see it work in the barn. Someone hid your presence from me.” The wizard stared into Brandt’s eyes. “But that is no matter now. I needed someone to go into Quehalost and retrieve the Arum Dracunculus for me. To that end, you all were useful. Now that you have accomplished that task, there is no reason to keep you alive. I had hoped that Opheiluka would have killed you so that I could keep her alive and with me. But as I said earlier, sometimes love requires sacrifice. I hope you have considered that in your choice, my dear Opheiluka.”

Ophee drew her dagger back, but Semeion caught her in his arms for a moment. He wasn’t yet done. If he had the wizard figured out, he was too proud to refuse one final question. “So, you used Ophee and us four to get you the Arum Dracunculus. All for the ability to control people? You would kill us because we know that you can control people? Rhema can control people, and we aren’t willing to kill for her protection!”

The question was just enough to catch the wizard’s attention. “I would kill you because you have knowledge that can be used against me. Knowledge is power. The one who controls the knowledge is the one who controls the power. I have sent my servants to kill the king and lords of Tongra. Once the king and his lords are dead, the land will be in a panic and searching for answers. I will have the means to find those responsible. Finding those responsible will elevate my position in popularity at just the right time – when the land is looking for new leadership. I will be ushered in as the force that unified the Confederacy of Tongra into a single domain – my own arcane autocracy. They don’t know it, but I will become the beloved of the people. I will be their dictator. Under my authority Tongra will dominate Enigmatica.”

The wizard’s voice had taken on a new tone. The wizard was no longer speaking to any of the three present. The wizard was caught up in his own personal dream and was talking as if there was some greater audience. He was clearly delusional regarding the amount of power he could safely wield.

Ophee stopped struggling against Semeion’s resistance as her former master unfolded his plan. The others couldn’t sense it, but there was a distinct change in the wizard who now stood before her. This was no longer just her former master. This man was something different – something else. For a man who spent years in plotting a patient use of magic in order to learn secrets, the wizard seemed to be walking the fine line of going out of control.
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## Nonlethal Force (Jun 29, 2007)

Semeion nearly choked on the wizard’s dreams of grandeur.  “That’s what this is about?  You desire to seek glory for yourself?  You want absolute power over Tongra?”

The wizard was not fazed at all by Semeion’s sense of questioning.  “Of course!  I have spent years developing my network of sources and waiting for precisely the right moment to strike.  Years of my work have been culminating to this very moment in history.  Years of work have been building to this point - the moment when I become the arcane dictator of Tongra.”

The wizard’s expression turned to a deep scowl.  “And you all will not see it happening.  You all will be dead.  I am sorry, my dear Opheiluka, that you have chosen so poorly.”

Ophee smirked at the wizard’s bravado.  She turned her head slightly to Semeion’s direction, but did not take her eyes of off her former master.  “Are you wizard types always this interested in personal power?”  Her tone was in about as light-hearted as possible considering that she was facing up against an extremely powerful wizard.

Semeion replied with a very serious tone.  “No.”

Ophee returned her full attention to her former master.  “Well, then, it really is  a shame then that such a wonderfully crafted plan would be defeated so easily.”

The wizard smiled.  He had taken the time to outline his plan so brilliantly, yet he was remotely curious about the reason that Ophee seemed so confident that his scheming would be so easily foiled.  “Oh?  What makes you so sure that my plan can be foiled?”

Ophee allowed an evil smirk to appear on her face, as though she were going to enjoy giving this revelation to her former master.  “Your servants have been compromised.  Each of my counterparts has already been detained.  Your plan has been de-clawed.  Your maniacal ravings are nothing more than the annoying meow of your hungry familiar.  Your scheme has been destroyed, whether we live or whether we die.”

The wizard did not take the news well.  “You lie!  You could not possibly have known about my plan.”

Semeion smiled.  A look of sarcasm fell upon his face and he enjoyed announcing the truth of their actions to the wizard.  “And yet, we foiled it.  You see, the problem with using drugs to brainwash people’s actions is that it is detectable.  Once we knew what you had done to Ophee, it was no incredible leap of understanding to assume you had done it to the others.  So, we detained them.  And I suppose that I should also mention that some of them came rather willingly.  It would seem that your evil scheming did not produce as loyal of followers as you might have hoped.”

The wizard had heard enough for his liking.  His plan had been insulted, foiled, and now mocked.  The rage burning inside of him was getting the better of him.  “Crang …”

Brandt didn’t let the wizard finish his command.  He had been oddly silent ever since the wizard mocked him and began to lose control.  “Kashan.”

As soon as Brandt spoke, Semeion realized why he had been so quiet as of late.  Brandt’s spell was a simple counter spell.  It was designed to absorb any magical energy flowing through the wizard before it could manifest itself in the form that the wizard desired.  Brandt had been expecting the angry spell to come quickly, and he was careful to be prepared and wait for the assault.

Brandt pointed to the wizard and spoke in a hurry.  “Now, Semeion.  His spell was designed to kill one of us!”

Semeion already had the wand out of his pocket and pointed in the direction of Ophee’s former master.  The words for using the wand came to his mind quickly.  “Beissah Lahzuhto.”

The tip of the wand immediately sparked as if it was highly charged with static electricity.  A small circular force erupted from the end of the wand and grew in diameter as it flew across the room to strike the wizard.  Brandt’s plan had worked.  The wizard was not expecting such a strong attack to come from Semeion.  When the force passed through his body, the wizard’s muscles in his face, arms, and legs all relaxed.  Outside of his ability to barely remain standing, the wizard looked completely unable to move.

Semeion smiled at the wand.  “Now that I could get used to!”

Brandt ignored Semeion’s comments for a moment.  “Ophee, take these!”  He opened his robe and pulled out a simple set of manacles that were suspended from his belt.  “Secure your master’s wrists together behind his body.  And hurry, that spell will not have a long effect!”

Once Brandt had tossed the manacles across the room to Ophee, he turned to Semeion and addressed the young mage’s comment.  “In due time, Semeion.  And you do realize I’ll need a wand of that kind of power back.  It is on loan from the temple.  Reah will want to make sure it is returned.”

Semeion smiled as he saw Ophee making sure that her former master was properly detained.  “Yeah, I figured as much.  A wand powerful enough to completely stop someone in their tracks is too powerful to wander the streets of Fingerdale with anyway.  Should it ever be stolen …”

Ophee interrupted Semeion once she had completed her task.  “The manacles are secure, Brandt.  He won’t be using his hands any time soon.”

Brandt nodded.  “Those are special manacles.  Of course, like any set of manacles they will prevent him from making the gestures needed to cast many arcane spells.  However, they have also been created with a subtle negative energy.  They will prevent any arcane spell casting for as long as they are on the wearer.”

Ophee frowned as Brandt spoke.  “Well, if you don’t mind me saying, then, I thought that was a little anticlimactic.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, but I expected more of a challenge out of my former master.  His arcane power is greater than any of our own.”

Semeion’s jaw fell slightly open as Ophee spoke.  “Oh, sure.  Go ahead and jinx us why don’t you?  The spell hasn’t worn off yet and the wizard certainly isn’t into custody yet.  Besides, we’ve not yet seen how the battle with the Wizard’s College guards has fared.  It’s a bit early to be proclaiming victory, no doubt.”

Brandt turned to Ophee and offered a bit more constructive criticism to her comment.  “Your master was defeated for two simple reasons.  First, we had better strategy.  He was not prepared for me to handle the simple task of countering his magic while Semeion snuck in with a greater spell than he is normally able to cast.  The fact that I was content to simply counter him no doubt put him at ease and made him unprepared for Semeion’s strike.  The second reason as to why your former master was beaten so easily may be even more significant.  Your former master had allowed his anger and thirst for power to overcome his mind.  He telegraphed his actions to me with every word.  I knew precisely when the spell was coming, and who it was coming towards.”

Semeion raised his left eyebrow in curiosity.  “Oh?”

Brandt nodded.  “Ophee’s betrayal had hurt him badly.  The spell was designed not only to slay Ophee, but to destroy every part of her being.  I knew what was coming before he even spoke a word.”

Ophee’s expression suddenly took on a more serious tone from her earlier comment about having an easier time with her former master.  “Well, I suppose that will teach me to complain.  He could kill me with a single word?”

Brandt nodded solemnly.  “Kill is not the word I would use for it, Ophee.  Obliterate would be more likely to be accurate.  He was a dangerous foe.  And while I do agree that the action was extraordinarily anticlimactic, do not think the fight was easy.  We attained a great amount of knowledge before the fight.  Keeping the conflict from beginning too early was no simple task.”

Semeion nodded.  “It was a rather successful conflict, wasn’t it?”

Brandt nodded in agreement, but turned to the wizard who in many ways had become his pupil.  “Always learn a lesson from your battles, Semeion.  Learn how easily power corrupts the soul.  Learn how easily a tactical advantage can mean victory even for those who are considered weaker.  Learn how arrogance and secrets lead to corruption and destruction.”

Semeion nodded.  “And I have also learned how one’s past may come back to haunt them.  Without Grick, this wouldn’t have happened.  The fact that we considered his life valuable and worked hard to detain him while keeping him alive further opened us up to this abuse.”

Ophee smiled at Semeion.  “Yet, because you kept Grick alive I was able to meet you all.  Because of Grick being alive and directing my former master’s plan through you all, the evil schemes of my former master were defeated.  Had my master gone a different route, they might not have been able to foil his plan.  All of this was made possible because you kept Grick alive.  Tongra is a safer place today because of the honor among you and your friends.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion nearly choked on the wizard’s dreams of grandeur. “That’s what this is about? You desire to seek glory for yourself? You want absolute power over Tongra?”

The wizard was not fazed at all by Semeion’s sense of questioning. “Of course! I have spent years developing my network of sources and waiting for precisely the right moment to strike. Years of my work have been culminating to this very moment in history. Years of work have been building to this point - the moment when I become the arcane dictator of Tongra.”

The wizard’s expression turned to a deep scowl. “And you all will not see it happening. You all will be dead. I am sorry, my dear Opheiluka, that you have chosen so poorly.”

Ophee smirked at the wizard’s bravado. She turned her head slightly to Semeion’s direction, but did not take her eyes of off her former master. “Are you wizard types always this interested in personal power?” Her tone was in about as light-hearted as possible considering that she was facing up against an extremely powerful wizard.

Semeion replied with a very serious tone. “No.”

Ophee returned her full attention to her former master. “Well, then, it really is a shame then that such a wonderfully crafted plan would be defeated so easily.”

The wizard smiled. He had taken the time to outline his plan so brilliantly, yet he was remotely curious about the reason that Ophee seemed so confident that his scheming would be so easily foiled. “Oh? What makes you so sure that my plan can be foiled?”

Ophee allowed an evil smirk to appear on her face, as though she were going to enjoy giving this revelation to her former master. “Your servants have been compromised. Each of my counterparts has already been detained. Your plan has been de-clawed. Your maniacal ravings are nothing more than the annoying meow of your hungry familiar. Your scheme has been destroyed, whether we live or whether we die.”

The wizard did not take the news well. “You lie! You could not possibly have known about my plan.”

Semeion smiled. A look of sarcasm fell upon his face and he enjoyed announcing the truth of their actions to the wizard. “And yet, we foiled it. You see, the problem with using drugs to brainwash people’s actions is that it is detectable. Once we knew what you had done to Ophee, it was no incredible leap of understanding to assume you had done it to the others. So, we detained them. And I suppose that I should also mention that some of them came rather willingly. It would seem that your evil scheming did not produce as loyal of followers as you might have hoped.”

The wizard had heard enough for his liking. His plan had been insulted, foiled, and now mocked. The rage burning inside of him was getting the better of him. “Crang …”

Brandt didn’t let the wizard finish his command. He had been oddly silent ever since the wizard mocked him and began to lose control. “Kashan.”

As soon as Brandt spoke, Semeion realized why he had been so quiet as of late. Brandt’s spell was a simple counter spell. It was designed to absorb any magical energy flowing through the wizard before it could manifest itself in the form that the wizard desired. Brandt had been expecting the angry spell to come quickly, and he was careful to be prepared and wait for the assault.

Brandt pointed to the wizard and spoke in a hurry. “Now, Semeion. His spell was designed to kill one of us!”

Semeion already had the wand out of his pocket and pointed in the direction of Ophee’s former master. The words for using the wand came to his mind quickly. “Beissah Lahzuhto.”

The tip of the wand immediately sparked as if it was highly charged with static electricity. A small circular force erupted from the end of the wand and grew in diameter as it flew across the room to strike the wizard. Brandt’s plan had worked. The wizard was not expecting such a strong attack to come from Semeion. When the force passed through his body, the wizard’s muscles in his face, arms, and legs all relaxed. Outside of his ability to barely remain standing, the wizard looked completely unable to move.

Semeion smiled at the wand. “Now that I could get used to!”

Brandt ignored Semeion’s comments for a moment. “Ophee, take these!” He opened his robe and pulled out a simple set of manacles that were suspended from his belt. “Secure your master’s wrists together behind his body. And hurry, that spell will not have a long effect!”

Once Brandt had tossed the manacles across the room to Ophee, he turned to Semeion and addressed the young mage’s comment. “In due time, Semeion. And you do realize I’ll need a wand of that kind of power back. It is on loan from the temple. Reah will want to make sure it is returned.”

Semeion smiled as he saw Ophee making sure that her former master was properly detained. “Yeah, I figured as much. A wand powerful enough to completely stop someone in their tracks is too powerful to wander the streets of Fingerdale with anyway. Should it ever be stolen …”

Ophee interrupted Semeion once she had completed her task. “The manacles are secure, Brandt. He won’t be using his hands any time soon.”

Brandt nodded. “Those are special manacles. Of course, like any set of manacles they will prevent him from making the gestures needed to cast many arcane spells. However, they have also been created with a subtle negative energy. They will prevent any arcane spell casting for as long as they are on the wearer.”

Ophee frowned as Brandt spoke. “Well, if you don’t mind me saying, then, I thought that was a little anticlimactic. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but I expected more of a challenge out of my former master. His arcane power is greater than any of our own.”

Semeion’s jaw fell slightly open as Ophee spoke. “Oh, sure. Go ahead and jinx us why don’t you? The spell hasn’t worn off yet and the wizard certainly isn’t into custody yet. Besides, we’ve not yet seen how the battle with the Wizard’s College guards has fared. It’s a bit early to be proclaiming victory, no doubt.”

Brandt turned to Ophee and offered a bit more constructive criticism to her comment. “Your master was defeated for two simple reasons. First, we had better strategy. He was not prepared for me to handle the simple task of countering his magic while Semeion snuck in with a greater spell than he is normally able to cast. The fact that I was content to simply counter him no doubt put him at ease and made him unprepared for Semeion’s strike. The second reason as to why your former master was beaten so easily may be even more significant. Your former master had allowed his anger and thirst for power to overcome his mind. He telegraphed his actions to me with every word. I knew precisely when the spell was coming, and who it was coming towards.”

Semeion raised his left eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”

Brandt nodded. “Ophee’s betrayal had hurt him badly. The spell was designed not only to slay Ophee, but to destroy every part of her being. I knew what was coming before he even spoke a word.”

Ophee’s expression suddenly took on a more serious tone from her earlier comment about having an easier time with her former master. “Well, I suppose that will teach me to complain. He could kill me with a single word?”

Brandt nodded solemnly. “Kill is not the word I would use for it, Ophee. Obliterate would be more likely to be accurate. He was a dangerous foe. And while I do agree that the action was extraordinarily anticlimactic, do not think the fight was easy. We attained a great amount of knowledge before the fight. Keeping the conflict from beginning too early was no simple task.”

Semeion nodded. “It was a rather successful conflict, wasn’t it?”

Brandt nodded in agreement, but turned to the wizard who in many ways had become his pupil. “Always learn a lesson from your battles, Semeion. Learn how easily power corrupts the soul. Learn how easily a tactical advantage can mean victory even for those who are considered weaker. Learn how arrogance and secrets lead to corruption and destruction.”

Semeion nodded. “And I have also learned how one’s past may come back to haunt them. Without Grick, this wouldn’t have happened. The fact that we considered his life valuable and worked hard to detain him while keeping him alive further opened us up to this abuse.”

Ophee smiled at Semeion. “Yet, because you kept Grick alive I was able to meet you all. Because of Grick being alive and directing my former master’s plan through you all, the evil schemes of my former master were defeated. Had my master gone a different route, they might not have been able to foil his plan. All of this was made possible because you kept Grick alive. Tongra is a safer place today because of the honor among you and your friends.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 1, 2007)

Outside the wizard’s chamber, the hall remained quiet.  The foursome standing in the hall had no idea of what was happening within the walls of the wizard’s chamber as they patiently waited in their protective formation.  The longer they waited, the harder it became to manage the silence.

Finally, Charis broke the silence.  “Do you think that we managed to get in quick enough that they weren’t able to track us?”

Master Searthu chuckled as Rhema tried to shush Charis.  “Charis, they can detect us through sound.”

The follower of Rhea spoke softly, but did not ignore Charis’ original assertion.  “She is right, Charis, but they should be able to locate us with their magic well before their hearing would tell them where we are.  I have no doubt that since we made it past the guards so easily they are formulating a plan.  They are likely devising a plan that will take into account the fact that most of us can utilize magic to our own advantage.”

Ischarus breathed in so that he could speak, but he took a moment to cough instead.  Before he could regain his breath he was pulled to the floor.  A large tentacle erupted magically from the wooden floor below him.  The tentacle took the coloration of the sturdy oak floor paneling, and it was nearly impossible to detect its presence before it struck.  In a matter of seconds the tentacle had wrapped itself around his legs and waist and brought him onto his back.  As soon as he was on the ground, the tentacle began to squeeze him and suffocate him like he would have expected from a constrictor snake.

Similar tentacles leapt up and latched onto Rhema and Charis, dragging each of them to the ground.  The two women fell to the ground easily.  They had been caught off guard equally as much as Ischarus.

Master Searthu was not so easily caught.  His hands slide between the tentacle and his body and he used his arms to prevent the crushing assault on his waist.  His arms helped him slip out of the tentacle’s grasp.  Before the tentacle could reattach itself to him, Master Searthu rolled over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the spell’s area of effectiveness.  He called out a quick warning to the other three.  “The attack has begun, obviously.  The tentacles will continue to squeeze you until you are dead or the wizard who cast the spell releases it.  Free yourself while I find the wizard!”

Charis stopped struggling against the tentacle for a moment.  She hoped that if she could feign death for even a second it might buy her enough time for what she wanted to try.  “Daancrah Pashor Shintar.”  The spell was one of her favorites, and the tentacles had eased enough in response to her lack of struggling to give her space to speak the words with confidence.  She watched from her position along the floor as three brilliantly clad fire beetles emerged before Master Searthu’s position.  “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah!  Welcome, and go with Master Searthu to find the wizard who cast this spell upon us.”

Rhema also eased her struggle, focusing on the powers of her mind instead.  The tentacles would eventually kill her, of that there could be no doubt.  She knew she was weak, and if she wanted to be free she would need to help Master Searthu find the location of the guard who had cast the spell.  Her mind focused down the hallway in the direction that Master Searthu had escaped.  As she focused her thoughts, she quickly became aware of three intelligent minds focused on their position.  Her voice burst down the hall with excitement upon her discovery.  “Yes!  Go down the hall a bit further.  I can sense three of them focusing on our position!”

Ischarus was invigorated by the excitement in his wife’s voice.  He also knew that while Master Searthu was an adept spell caster, he was not likely going to be able to keep his defenses against three magicians who were strong enough to enforce this kind of power upon the party.  He focused all of his might and with a mighty cry he forced the tentacle away from around his waist.  Once he had a bit more freedom to breathe, he was able to pry the tentacle away from his legs and regain his feet.  Before the tentacle could reattach itself Ischarus was charging down the hall after the follower of Reah.

Master Searthu noticed the commotion behind him and heard Rhema’s call.  He spotted Ischarus and knew that he was better suited to challenge the Wizard’s College guards in a direct physical conflict than he was.  Besides, he understood that if he could stay behind Ischarus, his magic would be much more useful and creative in its deployment.  He waited for Ischarus and the three beetles to pass him before he cast a spell on them.  “Meion Shintar cadrass.”

The spell took effect immediately.  Each of the fire beetles managed to jump further as their limbs grew stronger.  Ischarus could feel his arms and legs grow stronger as well.  His heart beat a bit faster, but it beat more confidently as he unsheathed his sword.  With a newfound strength, Ischarus and his fire beetle friends surged down the hallway in a speedy search for the spell casters who threatened his wife and friend.

He hadn’t taken too many steps before he saw the forms huddling in a doorway.  They were trying to stay out of view, but when they saw that Ischarus had broken free of the bondage of the spell they stepped out.  One of the Wizard’s College guards extended a hand towards Ischarus and began casting a spell.  “Jiya Diast.” 

Ischarus knew that he wouldn’t reach the wizard before the spell took effect, so he braced himself to take the brunt of whatever attack the wizard had planned for him.  Much to his surprise, an attack never came.  The wizard had not cast an offense spell designed for his destruction or capture.

Instead, the wizard’s skin began to bubble and smoke as though it had come into contact with a fast working acid.  The wizard’s fingers and toes doubled in length and quadrupled in thickness.  Each of her fingers developed talons where the nails had once been.  The wizard’s hands, legs, arms, face, and torso thickened and developed scales as though he were becoming a reptile adorned in the color of a brilliant citrine gemstone.  Her face extended in length, producing a jaw like that of a lizard.  Her hair fell to the ground and vanished upon impact.

As her body changed, she also doubled over so that she could walk on all four limbs.  A long tail developed out of where her tailbone naturally existed.  Her eyes began to glow with a bright yellow glimmer.  A set of wings grew out of the wizard’s back and remained folded since the hallway was narrow enough to prevent them from unfolding and being used as weapons.

Ischarus could not believe the sight before his eyes.  The wizard had turned herself into a dragon.  Or, perhaps the wizard was a dragon in human form.  He felt a small amount of fear develop inside his chest, but he continued forward.  “Citrine Dragon!”  He lifted his sword as he charged, but his mind was not far behind his desire to set Rhema free.  If this was a citrine dragon, it was not his enemy.  Citrine dragons followed Reah and were on the side of justice.  They should not be an enemy.

The other two Wizard’s College guards stepped behind their changed associate.  They saw the confusion begin to develop on Ischarus’ face as they stared over the scaly back of their friend.  Each one spoke quietly in turn.  “Doithican Fundar.”  They vanished from sight, becoming completely invisible to the unaltered eye.  In spite of the magical display, the fact that a dragon had now filled the hallway meant that neither Ischarus nor Master Searthu took notice of their alteration.

Charis could not see the dragon, but she heard Ischarus’ cries from down the hall.  She continued to refrain from struggling, hoping that the tentacles would consider her near death.  Her voice rang down the hall as she called to the fire beetles that she had summoned.  “Do not be afraid, Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah.  Remember, you cannot be harmed here in my world.  You can only be dismissed and returned to Bemme’s side.  Fight hard, and do not fear.”

The tentacles began to squeeze her hard once she called out and revealed that she was not dead.  They did not grip her severely, however, because she was making little effort to escape.  Her mind struggled hard to maintain her composure.  She knew that her freedom rested in Ischarus’ capable hands.  She could outlast the spell if she needed.  

She was not so sure that this was true of Rhema.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”  Her eyes closed as she focused on Rhema, sending a small ray of Bemme’s love across the space between herself and Rhema.  Rhema’s wounds caused by the groping tentacles were healed through the magical words.

Ischarus’ mind continued to work as he charged down the hall.  Suddenly, he knew he had to stop.  There was no way that he could explain attacking a citrine dragon, even if it was a Wizard’s College rouse.  He came to a halt within ten feet of the dragon, well within the creature’s striking range with its sharp teeth.  “I follow Ausaphaborishan and am a friend to Llywessiar.  They are both members of the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons.  I cannot slay one of their own kind.”

In her mind, Rhema swore at her husband’s hesitation.  Even with the healing that she had just received there was no guarantee that she could resist the effect of the spell for its duration.  Her mind raced in search of a way to resolve this conflict quickly.  Finally, she focused her mind on the thoughts of the wizard who had turned herself into a dragon.  “Listen to my husband, Wizard’s College guard.  He is honorable, and does not desire to act out in violence against those who are also honorable.”  Her mental power surged through her voice, and Rhema hoped that her power was enough to implant the suggestion of peace into the mind of the Wizard’s College guard.

Master Searthu spotted the standoff between Ischarus and the Wizard’s College guard.  It had not yet come to blows, but a fight was not far off.  The beetles had gathered around Ischarus’ feet and were waiting for the sign to attack.  Master Searthu turned and pointed to Charis.  “Meion Shintar.”  The energy that Master Searthu unleashed shot straight for Charis and engulfed her.

Charis did not feel the same effects that Ischarus had felt from the related spell that Master Searthu had cast earlier.  Her muscles did not grow strong.  Instead, Charis was enveloped by a radiant light, and her voice suddenly felt pure and strong.  Her hair began to sparkle as if it had been blessed by some divine spirit.

Master Searthu shouted back to Charis.  “I have given you a silver tongue.  Use it, for your tongue may be the quickest answer out of this.”

Charis knew what Master Searthu meant.  She was the most charismatic of the foursome.  Her natural skill with people had begun to reassert itself over the past year.  The same charisma that had made her a significant member of her clan in Quehalost had brought her into power within the people of the villa.

Charis breathed in deeply and searched her minds for the words to speak.  She breathed in deeply once more and smiled.  “Wizard’s College guard, I ask for a truce.  You can see that we do not wish violence.  But the truth is that we seek to stop a member of your order.  One of your order has begun using dark means to brainwash his servants.  We have spent much of today capturing his servants so that they could do no harm in the world.  Now we have come to find answers for his actions, specifically regarding why he has used the Arum Dracunculus root excretion.  If you can sense any honor in this, release us from the spell and speak with us.”

Charis’s voice had rung clearly through the hall.  Master Searthu’s magic had given her greater power than normal to speak smoothly and confidently.  Her eyes flared with confidence, although the Wizard’s College guard who had turned himself into a citrine dragon would be too far away to see the change.

Suddenly, the tentacles that had wrapped themselves around Rhema and Charis released the women and were reabsorbed into the floor.  Before Rhema and Charis could stand, however, they felt cold steel across their throats.  A mysterious voice sounded out above Charis.  It was about as high as one might expect a person to speak from a kneeling position.  “You cannot see us, but we are here.  If you make any moves, we will slit both of your throats and our guard in dragon form will attack.  Your story is intriguing, however.  If there is truth in what you say, we must know.”

Charis swallowed hard.  For the moment, she was glad that she wasn’t Ischarus.  The invisible Wizard’s College guard kneeling above her held the steel blade to her throat tight enough that if she had an Adam’s apple she would have likely just cut her own throat open.  She spoke softly as she heard Master Searthu approaching down the hall.  “If you allow it, we submit.  I have no desire to die, just to find answers.  You may have my weapons as a sign of my faith.”

The blade pressed in harder as Master Searthu approached.  “I accept your terms.  Tell your follower of Reah to also submit.  Speak to the one facing against my counterpart at the end of the hall and dismiss your celestial servant beetles.  Then we will speak more.”

Master Searthu had heard the exchange.  “I submit as well, if that is what you desire.  But I have no weapons, just my magic.  You above all others should know that I cannot give that up so easily as a knife.”

The voice above Charis spoke again.  “Very well, stand against the wall.  What about my other demands, madam?”

Charis smiled nervously.  She tried to speak loudly, but to do so the blade dug into the skin on her throat.  The cut was not serious, but it would leave a mark for a few days while it healed.  “Ischarus, they are willing to talk.  Give your blade to the dragon.”

Ischarus sheathed his sword and allowed the scabbard to slide down his leg to his feat.  The voice standing over Charis spoke again.  “And your beetle friends?”

Charis swallowed once more.  “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah: you have once more served me well.  Give my regards to Bemme when you see her next!”  Charis closed her eyes and negated the magic that she had called upon to summon the creatures.  They vanished from their position beside Ischarus.

The invisible figure above Charis lifted his blade off of her neck and stood up.  The sound of a dagger slipping into a leather sheath lightly rustled from above Charis.  The voice spoke once more.  “You have my assurance that there is no more reason to protect this hallway.  I think it is time for you four to be escorted into the chamber by my associate in dragon form.  As for my invisible friend and myself, I believe it will be in the best interests of truth to remain invisible until we hear what the master of these quarters has to say in his defense.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Outside the wizard’s chamber, the hall remained quiet. The foursome standing in the hall had no idea of what was happening within the walls of the wizard’s chamber as they patiently waited in their protective formation. The longer they waited, the harder it became to manage the silence.

Finally, Charis broke the silence. “Do you think that we managed to get in quick enough that they weren’t able to track us?”

Master Searthu chuckled as Rhema tried to shush Charis. “Charis, they can detect us through sound.”

The follower of Rhea spoke softly, but did not ignore Charis’ original assertion. “She is right, Charis, but they should be able to locate us with their magic well before their hearing would tell them where we are. I have no doubt that since we made it past the guards so easily they are formulating a plan. They are likely devising a plan that will take into account the fact that most of us can utilize magic to our own advantage.”

Ischarus breathed in so that he could speak, but he took a moment to cough instead. Before he could regain his breath he was pulled to the floor. A large tentacle erupted magically from the wooden floor below him. The tentacle took the coloration of the sturdy oak floor paneling, and it was nearly impossible to detect its presence before it struck. In a matter of seconds the tentacle had wrapped itself around his legs and waist and brought him onto his back. As soon as he was on the ground, the tentacle began to squeeze him and suffocate him like he would have expected from a constrictor snake.

Similar tentacles leapt up and latched onto Rhema and Charis, dragging each of them to the ground. The two women fell to the ground easily. They had been caught off guard equally as much as Ischarus.

Master Searthu was not so easily caught. His hands slide between the tentacle and his body and he used his arms to prevent the crushing assault on his waist. His arms helped him slip out of the tentacle’s grasp. Before the tentacle could reattach itself to him, Master Searthu rolled over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the spell’s area of effectiveness. He called out a quick warning to the other three. “The attack has begun, obviously. The tentacles will continue to squeeze you until you are dead or the wizard who cast the spell releases it. Free yourself while I find the wizard!”

Charis stopped struggling against the tentacle for a moment. She hoped that if she could feign death for even a second it might buy her enough time for what she wanted to try. “Daancrah Pashor Shintar.” The spell was one of her favorites, and the tentacles had eased enough in response to her lack of struggling to give her space to speak the words with confidence. She watched from her position along the floor as three brilliantly clad fire beetles emerged before Master Searthu’s position. “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah! Welcome, and go with Master Searthu to find the wizard who cast this spell upon us.”

Rhema also eased her struggle, focusing on the powers of her mind instead. The tentacles would eventually kill her, of that there could be no doubt. She knew she was weak, and if she wanted to be free she would need to help Master Searthu find the location of the guard who had cast the spell. Her mind focused down the hallway in the direction that Master Searthu had escaped. As she focused her thoughts, she quickly became aware of three intelligent minds focused on their position. Her voice burst down the hall with excitement upon her discovery. “Yes! Go down the hall a bit further. I can sense three of them focusing on our position!”

Ischarus was invigorated by the excitement in his wife’s voice. He also knew that while Master Searthu was an adept spell caster, he was not likely going to be able to keep his defenses against three magicians who were strong enough to enforce this kind of power upon the party. He focused all of his might and with a mighty cry he forced the tentacle away from around his waist. Once he had a bit more freedom to breathe, he was able to pry the tentacle away from his legs and regain his feet. Before the tentacle could reattach itself Ischarus was charging down the hall after the follower of Reah.

Master Searthu noticed the commotion behind him and heard Rhema’s call. He spotted Ischarus and knew that he was better suited to challenge the Wizard’s College guards in a direct physical conflict than he was. Besides, he understood that if he could stay behind Ischarus, his magic would be much more useful and creative in its deployment. He waited for Ischarus and the three beetles to pass him before he cast a spell on them. “Meion Shintar cadrass.”

The spell took effect immediately. Each of the fire beetles managed to jump further as their limbs grew stronger. Ischarus could feel his arms and legs grow stronger as well. His heart beat a bit faster, but it beat more confidently as he unsheathed his sword. With a newfound strength, Ischarus and his fire beetle friends surged down the hallway in a speedy search for the spell casters who threatened his wife and friend.

He hadn’t taken too many steps before he saw the forms huddling in a doorway. They were trying to stay out of view, but when they saw that Ischarus had broken free of the bondage of the spell they stepped out. One of the Wizard’s College guards extended a hand towards Ischarus and began casting a spell. “Jiya Diast.” 

Ischarus knew that he wouldn’t reach the wizard before the spell took effect, so he braced himself to take the brunt of whatever attack the wizard had planned for him. Much to his surprise, an attack never came. The wizard had not cast an offense spell designed for his destruction or capture.

Instead, the wizard’s skin began to bubble and smoke as though it had come into contact with a fast working acid. The wizard’s fingers and toes doubled in length and quadrupled in thickness. Each of her fingers developed talons where the nails had once been. The wizard’s hands, legs, arms, face, and torso thickened and developed scales as though he were becoming a reptile adorned in the color of a brilliant citrine gemstone. Her face extended in length, producing a jaw like that of a lizard. Her hair fell to the ground and vanished upon impact.

As her body changed, she also doubled over so that she could walk on all four limbs. A long tail developed out of where her tailbone naturally existed. Her eyes began to glow with a bright yellow glimmer. A set of wings grew out of the wizard’s back and remained folded since the hallway was narrow enough to prevent them from unfolding and being used as weapons.

Ischarus could not believe the sight before his eyes. The wizard had turned herself into a dragon. Or, perhaps the wizard was a dragon in human form. He felt a small amount of fear develop inside his chest, but he continued forward. “Citrine Dragon!” He lifted his sword as he charged, but his mind was not far behind his desire to set Rhema free. If this was a citrine dragon, it was not his enemy. Citrine dragons followed Reah and were on the side of justice. They should not be an enemy.

The other two Wizard’s College guards stepped behind their changed associate. They saw the confusion begin to develop on Ischarus’ face as they stared over the scaly back of their friend. Each one spoke quietly in turn. “Doithican Fundar.” They vanished from sight, becoming completely invisible to the unaltered eye. In spite of the magical display, the fact that a dragon had now filled the hallway meant that neither Ischarus nor Master Searthu took notice of their alteration.

Charis could not see the dragon, but she heard Ischarus’ cries from down the hall. She continued to refrain from struggling, hoping that the tentacles would consider her near death. Her voice rang down the hall as she called to the fire beetles that she had summoned. “Do not be afraid, Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah. Remember, you cannot be harmed here in my world. You can only be dismissed and returned to Bemme’s side. Fight hard, and do not fear.”

The tentacles began to squeeze her hard once she called out and revealed that she was not dead. They did not grip her severely, however, because she was making little effort to escape. Her mind struggled hard to maintain her composure. She knew that her freedom rested in Ischarus’ capable hands. She could outlast the spell if she needed. 

She was not so sure that this was true of Rhema. “Bondras-tol Egro.” Her eyes closed as she focused on Rhema, sending a small ray of Bemme’s love across the space between herself and Rhema. Rhema’s wounds caused by the groping tentacles were healed through the magical words.

Ischarus’ mind continued to work as he charged down the hall. Suddenly, he knew he had to stop. There was no way that he could explain attacking a citrine dragon, even if it was a Wizard’s College rouse. He came to a halt within ten feet of the dragon, well within the creature’s striking range with its sharp teeth. “I follow Ausaphaborishan and am a friend to Llywessiar. They are both members of the Assembly of Virtuous Dragons. I cannot slay one of their own kind.”

In her mind, Rhema swore at her husband’s hesitation. Even with the healing that she had just received there was no guarantee that she could resist the effect of the spell for its duration. Her mind raced in search of a way to resolve this conflict quickly. Finally, she focused her mind on the thoughts of the wizard who had turned herself into a dragon. “Listen to my husband, Wizard’s College guard. He is honorable, and does not desire to act out in violence against those who are also honorable.” Her mental power surged through her voice, and Rhema hoped that her power was enough to implant the suggestion of peace into the mind of the Wizard’s College guard.

Master Searthu spotted the standoff between Ischarus and the Wizard’s College guard. It had not yet come to blows, but a fight was not far off. The beetles had gathered around Ischarus’ feet and were waiting for the sign to attack. Master Searthu turned and pointed to Charis. “Meion Shintar.” The energy that Master Searthu unleashed shot straight for Charis and engulfed her.

Charis did not feel the same effects that Ischarus had felt from the related spell that Master Searthu had cast earlier. Her muscles did not grow strong. Instead, Charis was enveloped by a radiant light, and her voice suddenly felt pure and strong. Her hair began to sparkle as if it had been blessed by some divine spirit.

Master Searthu shouted back to Charis. “I have given you a silver tongue. Use it, for your tongue may be the quickest answer out of this.”

Charis knew what Master Searthu meant. She was the most charismatic of the foursome. Her natural skill with people had begun to reassert itself over the past year. The same charisma that had made her a significant member of her clan in Quehalost had brought her into power within the people of the villa.

Charis breathed in deeply and searched her minds for the words to speak. She breathed in deeply once more and smiled. “Wizard’s College guard, I ask for a truce. You can see that we do not wish violence. But the truth is that we seek to stop a member of your order. One of your order has begun using dark means to brainwash his servants. We have spent much of today capturing his servants so that they could do no harm in the world. Now we have come to find answers for his actions, specifically regarding why he has used the Arum Dracunculus root excretion. If you can sense any honor in this, release us from the spell and speak with us.”

Charis’s voice had rung clearly through the hall. Master Searthu’s magic had given her greater power than normal to speak smoothly and confidently. Her eyes flared with confidence, although the Wizard’s College guard who had turned himself into a citrine dragon would be too far away to see the change.

Suddenly, the tentacles that had wrapped themselves around Rhema and Charis released the women and were reabsorbed into the floor. Before Rhema and Charis could stand, however, they felt cold steel across their throats. A mysterious voice sounded out above Charis. It was about as high as one might expect a person to speak from a kneeling position. “You cannot see us, but we are here. If you make any moves, we will slit both of your throats and our guard in dragon form will attack. Your story is intriguing, however. If there is truth in what you say, we must know.”

Charis swallowed hard. For the moment, she was glad that she wasn’t Ischarus. The invisible Wizard’s College guard kneeling above her held the steel blade to her throat tight enough that if she had an Adam’s apple she would have likely just cut her own throat open. She spoke softly as she heard Master Searthu approaching down the hall. “If you allow it, we submit. I have no desire to die, just to find answers. You may have my weapons as a sign of my faith.”

The blade pressed in harder as Master Searthu approached. “I accept your terms. Tell your follower of Reah to also submit. Speak to the one facing against my counterpart at the end of the hall and dismiss your celestial servant beetles. Then we will speak more.”

Master Searthu had heard the exchange. “I submit as well, if that is what you desire. But I have no weapons, just my magic. You above all others should know that I cannot give that up so easily as a knife.”

The voice above Charis spoke again. “Very well, stand against the wall. What about my other demands, madam?”

Charis smiled nervously. She tried to speak loudly, but to do so the blade dug into the skin on her throat. The cut was not serious, but it would leave a mark for a few days while it healed. “Ischarus, they are willing to talk. Give your blade to the dragon.”

Ischarus sheathed his sword and allowed the scabbard to slide down his leg to his feat. The voice standing over Charis spoke again. “And your beetle friends?”

Charis swallowed once more. “Tinko, Hubrah, and Di-Ehlah: you have once more served me well. Give my regards to Bemme when you see her next!” Charis closed her eyes and negated the magic that she had called upon to summon the creatures. They vanished from their position beside Ischarus.

The invisible figure above Charis lifted his blade off of her neck and stood up. The sound of a dagger slipping into a leather sheath lightly rustled from above Charis. The voice spoke once more. “You have my assurance that there is no more reason to protect this hallway. I think it is time for you four to be escorted into the chamber by my associate in dragon form. As for my invisible friend and myself, I believe it will be in the best interests of truth to remain invisible until we hear what the master of these quarters has to say in his defense.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 3, 2007)

Charis nodded at the voice’s suggestion.  Master Searthu stepped away from the wall and spoke with confidence.  “Very well, but I think that I should be allowed to go in first, at least among those of us still visible.  The occupant of these quarters may not have been receptive to the questioning of my friends, and we’ve no idea what we may find.”

Ischarus and the citrine dragon approached Master Searthu’s position.  The dragon spoke in reply to Master Searthu’s suggestion.  “That is acceptable.  One of my associates will go first, followed by you all, and I will follow you inside.  The other of my associates will remove any traces of combat from the hall area, including the door that you all abused. Then he will join us inside.”

Master Searthu nodded and didn’t waste any time entering the wizard’s quarters.  He didn’t particularly care if the invisible guard had entered first or not.  Considering the fact that he was not stopped by the citrine dragon, he assumed that the invisible guard had managed to make it into the space before him.

Inside the initial chamber, the conversation between Semeion, Ophee, and Master Brandt was easily heard.  Master Searthu turned to the door that lead to the wizard’s personal chambers and walked through it.  The rest of the party quickly followed Master Searthu into the quarters and saw the bound wizard still stunned by the spell that Semeion had cast out of the wand.

When the wizard who had shape shifted into the citrine dragon saw the condition of the wizard, he began to speak in outrage.  His voice was aided by the increased lung capacity of his dragon form.  The bellowing from the beast’s lungs nearly deafened the party.  “Why is this one bound?  And what spell is he under?  You will release him at once or face the consequences!”

Master Brandt turned to face the citrine dragon.  “This wizard is the one that you want released?  What, has he placed you all under the same effect as everyone else who serves him?  Have you tasted from the root of the Arum Dracunculus as well?”

The citrine dragon’s head snaked through the air and challenged Brandt’s position.  “Under whose authority do you march into the Wizard’s College and make such demands and accusations?  We are capable of administering our own justice here.”

Semeion couldn’t hold back the first thought that crept into his mind.  “Apparently not.  Tell us, how long have you been aware of the fact that one of your own is using the Arum Dracunculus?  We have only known for hours, but I bet that we have known far longer than you.  Either that, or your whole precious college has been corrupted.”

The jaws of the citrine dragon opened and closed maliciously as the beast’s head turned and snapped in Semeion’s direction.  He was unafraid of the beast and refused to flinch as the dragon bellowed before him.  “Silence.  You are the unwelcome visitors here, not I.”

Ophee’s quiet voice offered up a simple caution, although her tone and volume indicated uncertainty and even a bit of fear.  “Ah, guys …”

Her initial comment passed by unnoticed.  The guard in dragon form was in hot debate with Semeion and Master Brandt and the debate drowned out her initial caution.  Master Searthu extended a finger in the dragon’s direction and continued the challenge.  “Any organization that depends upon its own people to completely police their own ranks is in danger of nepotism.  Any organization that cannot stand against outside criticism is already in serious danger.  Especially when in this case the outside criticism comes from a former member in Ophee.”

Ophee took the opportunity to speak a little louder.  “Hey, anyone smell something burning?”

The question caught everyone in the room completely off guard.  The argument had consumed so much of their attention that they had ignored the smell of something smoldering in the room.  As they turned to look in Ophee’s direction, they saw what they had only recently begun to smell.  The captured wizard’s body was smoking.

The wizard still looked to be under the spell that had paralyzed him.  His eyes remained vacant and he didn’t struggle as his body temperature had obviously begun to climb.  No sooner had the party turned to face the smoking body than the wizard’s cloak burst into flames.  It was as though someone had thrown a flammable agent onto the wizard’s body to cause it to ignite.

Panic spread through the occupants of the room as the flames increased to an unnatural height.  Not only were the flames unusual in their ability to reach a greater height than fabric and flesh should allow, but the flames seemed to produce no heat beyond how they burned the wizard’s flesh.  It was only a matter of seconds before the wizard’s flesh had completely blackened, blistered, and boiled.  In only a matter of seconds the wizard had been consumed beyond the point of even magical healing.

Out of the midst of the flames, a hand with a reddish tint to the skin shot towards Ophee.  The hand caught Ophee’s arm and pulled her towards the flames.  However, before Ophee’s body could reach the flames a being emerged out of the flames to block Ophee’s path into the flames.  The body was clearly feminine, and what little clothing she wore covered only the most delicate parts.  In spite of emerging from the flames, neither the dark gray fabric nor her red tinted skin showed any signs of being burned.

The woman was tall and thin in stature.  Thin gray spaghetti straps held what little clothing she wore in place across her chest and abdomen.  The cloth clung so tightly around her curves that there was little need for imagination.  The shirt was open in the back and held tightly into place by a series of overlapping ties.  Her flame red hair danced to a length just below her shoulder blades and just above the gray ties. 

Ophee struggled against the woman’s grip, but she was helpless within the strong grasp.  The two bodies met, and for an instant the woman who had emerged out of the flames looked over Ophee’s body.  A slight look of disgust appeared over her face, and as she looked about the room she caught sight of Ischarus.  She smiled at him, and her free hand reached behind Ophee’s head.  Although she had preferred a strong man like Ischarus, Ophee would have to be the place to start.  With a quick thrust of her own head she caught Ophee’s lips with her own.

Ophee continued to struggle against the kiss of the strange woman for only a moment before her body turned limp in the other woman’s arms.  The woman released Ophee’s lips and smiled.  “Want more, my dear Opheiluka?  Kill her!”  The strange woman pointed to Rhema as she looked to Ischarus with an evil grin upon her face.

Master Searthu finally put together the information that his eyes were receiving.  “Succubus!  Kill it and send it back to the pits of the hell from which it came!”

Ophee turned and caught Rhema off guard.  She pointed a finger towards Rhema and cast a spell rather than attack.  “Lishtal-tol Gunnshaw Egro.”

Rhema felt the world slow down considerably.  She felt as if all of her energy drained out from her muscles.  It was as though a terrible depression and fear was overcoming her senses.  Although she struggled against the effect, Rhema was only slightly aware that her legs were giving out underneath her.  She collapsed onto the floor, smacking her head solidly against the carpet that covered the hard wood beneath it.  Her mouth hung open, but her chest continued to rise and fall slowly, indicating that she was still breathing.

Ischarus yelled out as he watched his wife fall to the ground.  “Rhema!  No, Ophee!  Don’t finish what the demonic woman desires!  You have beaten the control once; do not fall for it again!”  Ischarus knew that he should have taken his sword against the succubus.  He knew that the only way to truly save Rhema’s life would be to defeat the control that the succubus had over Ophee.  But his heart could not bear leaving Rhema defenseless.  He drew his sword once more, but he charged towards Rhema in order to block Ophee’s path to her.

The citrine dragon was not subject to the same emotional ties to which Ischarus had fallen.  The beast leapt into the air landed upon the succubus.  The dragon’s jaw latched down upon the demon and bit hard into her shoulder.  The succubus reacted out of instinct and prepared to attack her assailant with her lips.  Her instinct gave way to her mind as she formulated an attack against the dragon.  She knew that her kiss would not work as well against someone who was not humanoid.  Fortunately, she was not able to see through the Wizard College guard’s spell and she believed him to be a true dragon.

Six magical blue orbs, identical to the ones Semeion was capable of conjuring, leapt through the air from two invisible sources.  All six of the magical orbs struck the succubus as she howled in pain from the blows.  The blasts had landed solidly, but the succubus still remained strong.

Semeion knew that the spell’s ability to target its foe was unerring, but the fact that the spells had come out of nowhere had baffled him and no doubt surprised the succubus.  He smiled at the assault, however.  If she was from the bottom of the pits of hell, there was little magic that he had that could harm her.  He wasn’t completely sure that the power within the wand that Brandt had given to him would even work.  He decided to mimic the prior two assaults from the invisible assailants.  “Thin-tok Egro.”

Two more blue orbs leapt through the air and smashed into the hide of the succubus.  These orbs had sparked into existence along Semeion’s arms and hands.  Like the six before his own two, they hit their mark unerringly in spite of the fact that the citrine dragon stood between himself and the succubus.

Charis kept her pick at her side.  Neither the succubus nor Ophee was her main concern.  She was charged with Bemme’s love and knew that Rhema was in dire need of feeling that love at this moment.  She dashed across the room and slid in behind Ischarus, using the carpet along the floor to stop her momentum as she approached Rhema’s body.  Once she had stopped moving she wrapped her own body around Rhema’s as though she were the thick carapace of a cocoon.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”

The yellow light that Charis was accustomed to seeing upon casting a spell of healing came out of her body from every surface that was in contact with Rhema.  The light enveloped Rhema and her breathing became more stable.  Around the room, the corner in which Rhema lay glowed and cast eerily dancing shadows upon the opposite walls.  However, Rhema still did not open her eyes.  

Charis called up to Ischarus who was standing guard over them.  “The healing helped, but she’s not out of the woods yet.  Protect us further!”

Brandt could see that the battle against the succubus was going as well as could be expected since none of them were prepared to battle a demon warrior.  He drew his attention to Ophee, who was slowly making his way towards Ischarus.  He needed a distraction, and fortunately he had prepared a spell that just might prove useful.  “Ophee!”  He shouted to get her attention and it worked.  “Daancrah Shintar.”

Ophee was disappointed when she was not assaulted by the wizard’s magic.  However, when she turned back to look at Ischarus, she noticed that there were now two Ischarus’ standing guard.  In fact, each Ischarus appeared to stand guard over their own Charis and Rhema.

Ophee pulled out her dagger and charged towards the Ischarus that was on her left.  As she charged, she swiped through the air with her blade.  The blade sunk deep into Ischarus’ chest before he vanished into thin air.  The Charis and Rhema below him had also vanished with the disruption of the illusion.  Brandt had bought Ischarus a few extra moments of time before having to deal with Ophee.

Across the room, the succubus had enough of the citrine dragon.  She smiled and faked a kissing motion in the direction of the dragon’s mouth and then vanished into a puff of brimstone smelling smoke.  She appeared immediately beside Ischarus and reached out a hand to grasp his hair.  She easily caught hold of a large handful of hair and forced her lips upon his.  Like Ophee before him, Ischarus struggled only until their lips touched.  Once his lips touched hers, he melted uncontrollably into her arms.

The succubus knew that she had possession of Ischarus in much the same way as she had possession of Ophee.  She licked her lips with her tongue as her eyes filled with lust.  She pressed her body against his.  “I know you want more, so defend me.  Start by slaying the jezebel at your feet.”

Charis screamed at the top of her lungs as she could hear the succubus command Ischarus above her.  “No, Ischarus.  Don’t!  You’ll kill her!  You’ll kill your wife!”

Ischarus turned on Charis anyway.  The fire of the succubus’ passion burned in his eyes.  He no longer saw his wife being covered by one of his closest friends.  His eyes saw two women who stood between himself and the fire of passion that the succubus could give him.  He lifted his sword in a dramatic blow, knowing that Charis wouldn’t move and leave Rhema vulnerable to his assault.

The citrine dragon roared across the room and slammed into the succubus.  The beast wasn’t intending to attack her, merely drive her into Ischarus and knock him off balance.  The attack worked, although Ischarus and the succubus still both ended up within striking range of the helpless Rhema.  The dragon roared to try and scare the unholy duo away from Rhema, but the roar had no effect on the succubus or her charmed warrior.

Master Searthu turned to Ischarus just as the warrior had time to redraw his sword and poise it over his wife.  “No!  Kashan Aggior.”  The spell was a much higher level than he knew that he needed, but he could take no chances.  There was no telling just how powerful this succubus had become.  She had enough power to influence a mighty wizard from the Wizard’s College.

Ischarus drove his sword downward in a crushing blow.  The blade caught flesh, and the sound of snapping bones echoed off the walls.  He smiled as he could feel the blade sink into its mark.  He jerked and twisted the blade just to make sure that the wound was a killing blow.

He could hear the scream of Charis as the blade slipped through the air.  He only vaguely heard Master Searthu’s spell underneath Charis’ scream.  But it was no matter.  He didn’t need to hear the spell for it to work.  He turned away from Charis and Rhema and looked at his blade.

At the last moment, Master Searthu’s spell had broken the succubus’ charm over him.  The spell gave him a moment of clarity in his thought.  He had driven the blade into the middle of the abdomen of the unsuspecting succubus.  The spell had given him a moment to chose his target rather than acting out of the succubus’ passionate fire.  He growled as he jerked the blade out of the unholy woman.  “Brandt?  Is it true that demons cannot be killed here in this world and that they must be slain in their home world?”

Blue blood gurgled up the succubus’ throat, out her mouth, and dribbled down her chin as she nodded in response.  A look of joy covered her face as though she had enjoyed the surprise of Ischarus’ betrayal in spite of the fact that it lead to her banishment.  In her lust, she had been able to enjoy Ischarus’ own passion.  She knew that her banishment would only send her home, and she would be able to begin again with a new victim.

Brandt confirmed the nod with a quiet comment.  “Yes, Ischarus.  You cannot slay her here.”

Ischarus smiled as he stepped protectively over Charis and his wife.  “Good.  Then I won’t break my vow.  I will see you later in the pits of your own hell, witch.  I will follow you there and finish this where you can be killed.”

Ischarus’ sword was already coated in the blue blood of the succubus from his first strike.  Spatter fell from the blade as it arced through the air.  In a mighty swing, his blade severed the head of the succubus from her shoulders and the creature erupted in another cloud of brimstone smoke.  His first blow had made her all but helpless.  The second blow sent her body back to the hell out of which she had crawled.

Whereas Ischarus’ link to the succubus had been broken out of force, Ophee’s link was broken by the dismissal of the demonic woman.  The force of the dismissal surged through Ophee’s mind as she regained control of her thoughts.  Ophee fainted and fell backwards under the shock of freedom as her will returned to her mind.

It was over.  Ischarus crumpled to the floor and wrapped Charis and Rhema in a tight bear hug and began to sob.  “I was only a second away from slaying you both …”  His body heaved with massive surges as he sobbed and breathed.  With each breath he held tightly to the women he truly loved more than life itself.


[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis nodded at the voice’s suggestion. Master Searthu stepped away from the wall and spoke with confidence. “Very well, but I think that I should be allowed to go in first, at least among those of us still visible. The occupant of these quarters may not have been receptive to the questioning of my friends, and we’ve no idea what we may find.”

Ischarus and the citrine dragon approached Master Searthu’s position. The dragon spoke in reply to Master Searthu’s suggestion. “That is acceptable. One of my associates will go first, followed by you all, and I will follow you inside. The other of my associates will remove any traces of combat from the hall area, including the door that you all abused. Then he will join us inside.”

Master Searthu nodded and didn’t waste any time entering the wizard’s quarters. He didn’t particularly care if the invisible guard had entered first or not. Considering the fact that he was not stopped by the citrine dragon, he assumed that the invisible guard had managed to make it into the space before him.

Inside the initial chamber, the conversation between Semeion, Ophee, and Master Brandt was easily heard. Master Searthu turned to the door that lead to the wizard’s personal chambers and walked through it. The rest of the party quickly followed Master Searthu into the quarters and saw the bound wizard still stunned by the spell that Semeion had cast out of the wand.

When the wizard who had shape shifted into the citrine dragon saw the condition of the wizard, he began to speak in outrage. His voice was aided by the increased lung capacity of his dragon form. The bellowing from the beast’s lungs nearly deafened the party. “Why is this one bound? And what spell is he under? You will release him at once or face the consequences!”

Master Brandt turned to face the citrine dragon. “This wizard is the one that you want released? What, has he placed you all under the same effect as everyone else who serves him? Have you tasted from the root of the Arum Dracunculus as well?”

The citrine dragon’s head snaked through the air and challenged Brandt’s position. “Under whose authority do you march into the Wizard’s College and make such demands and accusations? We are capable of administering our own justice here.”

Semeion couldn’t hold back the first thought that crept into his mind. “Apparently not. Tell us, how long have you been aware of the fact that one of your own is using the Arum Dracunculus? We have only known for hours, but I bet that we have known far longer than you. Either that, or your whole precious college has been corrupted.”

The jaws of the citrine dragon opened and closed maliciously as the beast’s head turned and snapped in Semeion’s direction. He was unafraid of the beast and refused to flinch as the dragon bellowed before him. “Silence. You are the unwelcome visitors here, not I.”

Ophee’s quiet voice offered up a simple caution, although her tone and volume indicated uncertainty and even a bit of fear. “Ah, guys …”

Her initial comment passed by unnoticed. The guard in dragon form was in hot debate with Semeion and Master Brandt and the debate drowned out her initial caution. Master Searthu extended a finger in the dragon’s direction and continued the challenge. “Any organization that depends upon its own people to completely police their own ranks is in danger of nepotism. Any organization that cannot stand against outside criticism is already in serious danger. Especially when in this case the outside criticism comes from a former member in Ophee.”

Ophee took the opportunity to speak a little louder. “Hey, anyone smell something burning?”

The question caught everyone in the room completely off guard. The argument had consumed so much of their attention that they had ignored the smell of something smoldering in the room. As they turned to look in Ophee’s direction, they saw what they had only recently begun to smell. The captured wizard’s body was smoking.

The wizard still looked to be under the spell that had paralyzed him. His eyes remained vacant and he didn’t struggle as his body temperature had obviously begun to climb. No sooner had the party turned to face the smoking body than the wizard’s cloak burst into flames. It was as though someone had thrown a flammable agent onto the wizard’s body to cause it to ignite.

Panic spread through the occupants of the room as the flames increased to an unnatural height. Not only were the flames unusual in their ability to reach a greater height than fabric and flesh should allow, but the flames seemed to produce no heat beyond how they burned the wizard’s flesh. It was only a matter of seconds before the wizard’s flesh had completely blackened, blistered, and boiled. In only a matter of seconds the wizard had been consumed beyond the point of even magical healing.

Out of the midst of the flames, a hand with a reddish tint to the skin shot towards Ophee. The hand caught Ophee’s arm and pulled her towards the flames. However, before Ophee’s body could reach the flames a being emerged out of the flames to block Ophee’s path into the flames. The body was clearly feminine, and what little clothing she wore covered only the most delicate parts. In spite of emerging from the flames, neither the dark gray fabric nor her red tinted skin showed any signs of being burned.

The woman was tall and thin in stature. Thin gray spaghetti straps held what little clothing she wore in place across her chest and abdomen. The cloth clung so tightly around her curves that there was little need for imagination. The shirt was open in the back and held tightly into place by a series of overlapping ties. Her flame red hair danced to a length just below her shoulder blades and just above the gray ties. 

Ophee struggled against the woman’s grip, but she was helpless within the strong grasp. The two bodies met, and for an instant the woman who had emerged out of the flames looked over Ophee’s body. A slight look of disgust appeared over her face, and as she looked about the room she caught sight of Ischarus. She smiled at him, and her free hand reached behind Ophee’s head. Although she had preferred a strong man like Ischarus, Ophee would have to be the place to start. With a quick thrust of her own head she caught Ophee’s lips with her own.

Ophee continued to struggle against the kiss of the strange woman for only a moment before her body turned limp in the other woman’s arms. The woman released Ophee’s lips and smiled. “Want more, my dear Opheiluka? Kill her!” The strange woman pointed to Rhema as she looked to Ischarus with an evil grin upon her face.

Master Searthu finally put together the information that his eyes were receiving. “Succubus! Kill it and send it back to the pits of the hell from which it came!”

Ophee turned and caught Rhema off guard. She pointed a finger towards Rhema and cast a spell rather than attack. “Lishtal-tol Gunnshaw Egro.”

Rhema felt the world slow down considerably. She felt as if all of her energy drained out from her muscles. It was as though a terrible depression and fear was overcoming her senses. Although she struggled against the effect, Rhema was only slightly aware that her legs were giving out underneath her. She collapsed onto the floor, smacking her head solidly against the carpet that covered the hard wood beneath it. Her mouth hung open, but her chest continued to rise and fall slowly, indicating that she was still breathing.

Ischarus yelled out as he watched his wife fall to the ground. “Rhema! No, Ophee! Don’t finish what the demonic woman desires! You have beaten the control once; do not fall for it again!” Ischarus knew that he should have taken his sword against the succubus. He knew that the only way to truly save Rhema’s life would be to defeat the control that the succubus had over Ophee. But his heart could not bear leaving Rhema defenseless. He drew his sword once more, but he charged towards Rhema in order to block Ophee’s path to her.

The citrine dragon was not subject to the same emotional ties to which Ischarus had fallen. The beast leapt into the air landed upon the succubus. The dragon’s jaw latched down upon the demon and bit hard into her shoulder. The succubus reacted out of instinct and prepared to attack her assailant with her lips. Her instinct gave way to her mind as she formulated an attack against the dragon. She knew that her kiss would not work as well against someone who was not humanoid. Fortunately, she was not able to see through the Wizard College guard’s spell and she believed him to be a true dragon.

Six magical blue orbs, identical to the ones Semeion was capable of conjuring, leapt through the air from two invisible sources. All six of the magical orbs struck the succubus as she howled in pain from the blows. The blasts had landed solidly, but the succubus still remained strong.

Semeion knew that the spell’s ability to target its foe was unerring, but the fact that the spells had come out of nowhere had baffled him and no doubt surprised the succubus. He smiled at the assault, however. If she was from the bottom of the pits of hell, there was little magic that he had that could harm her. He wasn’t completely sure that the power within the wand that Brandt had given to him would even work. He decided to mimic the prior two assaults from the invisible assailants. “Thin-tok Egro.”

Two more blue orbs leapt through the air and smashed into the hide of the succubus. These orbs had sparked into existence along Semeion’s arms and hands. Like the six before his own two, they hit their mark unerringly in spite of the fact that the citrine dragon stood between himself and the succubus.

Charis kept her pick at her side. Neither the succubus nor Ophee was her main concern. She was charged with Bemme’s love and knew that Rhema was in dire need of feeling that love at this moment. She dashed across the room and slid in behind Ischarus, using the carpet along the floor to stop her momentum as she approached Rhema’s body. Once she had stopped moving she wrapped her own body around Rhema’s as though she were the thick carapace of a cocoon. “Bondras-tol Egro.”

The yellow light that Charis was accustomed to seeing upon casting a spell of healing came out of her body from every surface that was in contact with Rhema. The light enveloped Rhema and her breathing became more stable. Around the room, the corner in which Rhema lay glowed and cast eerily dancing shadows upon the opposite walls. However, Rhema still did not open her eyes. 

Charis called up to Ischarus who was standing guard over them. “The healing helped, but she’s not out of the woods yet. Protect us further!”

Brandt could see that the battle against the succubus was going as well as could be expected since none of them were prepared to battle a demon warrior. He drew his attention to Ophee, who was slowly making his way towards Ischarus. He needed a distraction, and fortunately he had prepared a spell that just might prove useful. “Ophee!” He shouted to get her attention and it worked. “Daancrah Shintar.”

Ophee was disappointed when she was not assaulted by the wizard’s magic. However, when she turned back to look at Ischarus, she noticed that there were now two Ischarus’ standing guard. In fact, each Ischarus appeared to stand guard over their own Charis and Rhema.

Ophee pulled out her dagger and charged towards the Ischarus that was on her left. As she charged, she swiped through the air with her blade. The blade sunk deep into Ischarus’ chest before he vanished into thin air. The Charis and Rhema below him had also vanished with the disruption of the illusion. Brandt had bought Ischarus a few extra moments of time before having to deal with Ophee.

Across the room, the succubus had enough of the citrine dragon. She smiled and faked a kissing motion in the direction of the dragon’s mouth and then vanished into a puff of brimstone smelling smoke. She appeared immediately beside Ischarus and reached out a hand to grasp his hair. She easily caught hold of a large handful of hair and forced her lips upon his. Like Ophee before him, Ischarus struggled only until their lips touched. Once his lips touched hers, he melted uncontrollably into her arms.

The succubus knew that she had possession of Ischarus in much the same way as she had possession of Ophee. She licked her lips with her tongue as her eyes filled with lust. She pressed her body against his. “I know you want more, so defend me. Start by slaying the jezebel at your feet.”

Charis screamed at the top of her lungs as she could hear the succubus command Ischarus above her. “No, Ischarus. Don’t! You’ll kill her! You’ll kill your wife!”

Ischarus turned on Charis anyway. The fire of the succubus’ passion burned in his eyes. He no longer saw his wife being covered by one of his closest friends. His eyes saw two women who stood between himself and the fire of passion that the succubus could give him. He lifted his sword in a dramatic blow, knowing that Charis wouldn’t move and leave Rhema vulnerable to his assault.

The citrine dragon roared across the room and slammed into the succubus. The beast wasn’t intending to attack her, merely drive her into Ischarus and knock him off balance. The attack worked, although Ischarus and the succubus still both ended up within striking range of the helpless Rhema. The dragon roared to try and scare the unholy duo away from Rhema, but the roar had no effect on the succubus or her charmed warrior.

Master Searthu turned to Ischarus just as the warrior had time to redraw his sword and poise it over his wife. “No! Kashan Aggior.” The spell was a much higher level than he knew that he needed, but he could take no chances. There was no telling just how powerful this succubus had become. She had enough power to influence a mighty wizard from the Wizard’s College.

Ischarus drove his sword downward in a crushing blow. The blade caught flesh, and the sound of snapping bones echoed off the walls. He smiled as he could feel the blade sink into its mark. He jerked and twisted the blade just to make sure that the wound was a killing blow.

He could hear the scream of Charis as the blade slipped through the air. He only vaguely heard Master Searthu’s spell underneath Charis’ scream. But it was no matter. He didn’t need to hear the spell for it to work. He turned away from Charis and Rhema and looked at his blade.

At the last moment, Master Searthu’s spell had broken the succubus’ charm over him. The spell gave him a moment of clarity in his thought. He had driven the blade into the middle of the abdomen of the unsuspecting succubus. The spell had given him a moment to chose his target rather than acting out of the succubus’ passionate fire. He growled as he jerked the blade out of the unholy woman. “Brandt? Is it true that demons cannot be killed here in this world and that they must be slain in their home world?”

Blue blood gurgled up the succubus’ throat, out her mouth, and dribbled down her chin as she nodded in response. A look of joy covered her face as though she had enjoyed the surprise of Ischarus’ betrayal in spite of the fact that it lead to her banishment. In her lust, she had been able to enjoy Ischarus’ own passion. She knew that her banishment would only send her home, and she would be able to begin again with a new victim.

Brandt confirmed the nod with a quiet comment. “Yes, Ischarus. You cannot slay her here.”

Ischarus smiled as he stepped protectively over Charis and his wife. “Good. Then I won’t break my vow. I will see you later in the pits of your own hell, witch. I will follow you there and finish this where you can be killed.”

Ischarus’ sword was already coated in the blue blood of the succubus from his first strike. Spatter fell from the blade as it arced through the air. In a mighty swing, his blade severed the head of the succubus from her shoulders and the creature erupted in another cloud of brimstone smoke. His first blow had made her all but helpless. The second blow sent her body back to the hell out of which she had crawled.

Whereas Ischarus’ link to the succubus had been broken out of force, Ophee’s link was broken by the dismissal of the demonic woman. The force of the dismissal surged through Ophee’s mind as she regained control of her thoughts. Ophee fainted and fell backwards under the shock of freedom as her will returned to her mind.

It was over. Ischarus crumpled to the floor and wrapped Charis and Rhema in a tight bear hug and began to sob. “I was only a second away from slaying you both …” His body heaved with massive surges as he sobbed and breathed. With each breath he held tightly to the women he truly loved more than life itself.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 5, 2007)

*Chapter Eleven: KILLING THE ROOTS AND ALL*

Ischarus continued to embrace Charis and his wife for several more seconds.  He didn’t speak until he heard his wife let out a small cough from just above the carpet floor.  Immediately he let his grip slacken to give her room to breathe.  “Rhema?  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean it.”

Charis also slipped away from her position of protecting her helpless form.  She knelt beside her recovering friend and began to use her hand to feel several places of Rhema’s skin.  She was checking Rhema’s temperature and looking for places of bruising or perhaps even infection.

Rhema didn’t understand Ischarus’ comments at all.  “Sorry for what, Ischarus?  We all still seem to be alive.  It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Ischarus began to speak, but Charis caught his eye and made him hold his tongue.  Instead, she took a turn to speak.  “Rhema, you’ve hit your head pretty badly, and there is a little swelling.  That will eventually go away.  I think you’ve had a pretty rough couple of minutes, and I think we’d be wise to let you come back to your senses before telling you about the fight that you missed, don’t you?”

Ischarus smiled, but it was clear that he wasn’t pleased with Charis’ assertion.  He knew that it was the wise course of action, but he didn’t like knowing that he was going to have to carry around the burden of his guilt until Rhema was in a better position to hear about his deeds.  He sighed, and wordlessly stroked his wife’s hair.  There was no need to bring her to a standing position until the party figured out what was happening next.

Charis rose to her feet and moved to check on Ophee.  She had seen Ophee pass out upon the dismissal of the succubus, but was more concerned with the immediate urgency of making sure that Rhema was going to recover from Ophee’s spell.  She assumed that Ophee had not suffered any injuries from the banishment of the succubus, and when she arrived to check on her she found that she was correct.  Ophee was in good condition, simply unconscious.

The Wizard’s College guard, who had turned herself into a citrine dragon, now turned her draconic head to look towards the closest wall.  Her gaze was right above where Ophee had fallen and Charis currently knelt.  The dragon appeared to be listening to an inaudible voice because it then nodded several times and mentally dismissed the spell that kept her in dragon form.  Her body reversed the process it had undergone to place her into the dragon form and in a matter of seconds she had reverted back into a typical Wizard’s College guard.

The party hadn’t had the time to observe her before, but now that they were away from the stress of the fight they had better time to examine her.  She was nearly as tall as a typical human woman, but her facial features were much more defined like those of an elf.  Her golden hair and her blended green and yellow eyes also spoke of a mixed lineage.  When she spoke after dismissing the spell, her voice was in stark contrast compared to the draconic voice that she had used as a citrine dragon.  “You have been a great help in stopping a great evil.  Your service to our college is highly appreciated, but I am afraid that we must ask you to leave now that your business here is concluded.”

Semeion’s glance turned away from his routine observation of his friends laying and kneeling upon the floor.  His eyebrows wrinkled together as he heard the words and a look of shock flashed through his eyes and lips.  “What?  You are asking us to leave?  Without us, you wouldn’t have even known that your colleague was even a threat!”

Master Searthu continued the argument.  “Indeed.  I know that you all in the Wizard’s College are highly secretive about your methods of teaching magic.  But even taking that into consideration your request is simply illogical, especially for wizards.  We’re not sure that the succubus’ influence has been dealt with.  We’re not sure that the effects of the Arum Dracunculus have been effectively stopped.  For that matter, you all don’t seem to even care that the Arum Dracunculus had been used at all!”

One of the invisible Wizard’s College guards allowed the spell of invisibility to lose effectiveness.  He appeared in the position that the first guard had looked while in the form of the citrine dragon.  “I understand your desire to remain here and find your answers, but you must understand that your presence simply is not allowed.  You cannot deny that the only reason that you are standing where you are now is from a series of illegal transports through a security system that was designed to keep you out.  In spite of your helpfulness, the fact remains that you are guilty of trespassing.  We have the right to ask you to leave.”

Semeion continued the argument.  In spite of disagreeing with their conclusions, he couldn’t deny feeling a certain kinship to the Wizard’s College guards and their desire for keeping their methods secret.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I’m the first one to appreciate the privacy and intimacy of the study of magic.  I know that I was taught my abilities by a master who would no doubt be considered a renegade by your terms, but even my master made me understand the importance of knowing to whom you are showing your magic.” 

He turned so that his shoulders stood open to his friends.  “But are you blind to what just happened here?  In an attempt to save you all from a threat that you didn’t even know was in your midst, I almost lost a wife and a few friends.  For Reah’s sake, how can you possibly ask us to leave considering the sacrifice we were willing to make for your protection?  We’re not asking to stay and observe the teaching of your magic.  We are asking to be allowed to stay and find answers regarding how far the plan of the wizard – or perhaps the succubus – had spread throughout the land.”

The female Wizard’s College guard focused upon Semeion as he invoked Reah’s name.  “That is twice that you all have made mention of Reah since you have entered the Wizard’s College.”  She turned to where her now visible colleague stood and paused for several seconds before finishing her thought.  “Very well, we will allow you to stay here in these quarters.  You must agree to not venture out into the remainder of the Wizard’s College.  You may search for your answers here and here alone.”

Master Brandt frowned, but nodded in agreement.  “So long as you two are willing to stay and answer our questions honestly …”

Ischarus lifted his head to the discussion for the first time since collapsing from fear of what he almost unwillingly accomplished. Up until now he had been listening, but his eyes were glued to Rhema’s face.  “Three, Brandt.  There are three.”

Brandt and Semeion exchanged confused looks and turned their expressions back to the female guard.  They didn’t need to say anything; their look of disapproval spoke volumes to the guard.  Brandt lifted an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer.

The female guard looked again in the direction of the now visible guard.  She breathed in a deep breath and nodded.  As with the other guard who had turned himself invisible, the third guard let go of the protective spell of invisibility and materialized before the party.  Once he was visible, he addressed the party.  As he spoke, his hands and arms opened in a gesture of welcoming.  “Very well.  We can answer your questions, assuming that you agree to our terms as stated.  You will be satisfied with our answers, and if you are not satisfied you will be patient while we try to find deeper answers.  You will not leave these quarters.”

Brandt looked to Master Searthu and received an encouraging nod.  “That is acceptable.”

The most recently appearing of the guards continued to speak.  “And, since you have dealt with the threat that caused you to violate our policy of secrecy we must also ask one other stipulation.  When you decide to leave, you may teleport out of the Wizard’s College.  But then you may not return except by adhering to the proper channels of addressing the Wizard’s College.  In the future, all visits must be prearranged.  We will be willing to discuss future inquiries, but once you leave you will not be permitted to return through the use of magic without us considering it an act of aggression.”

Master Searthu smiled deceptively and allowed a slight chuckle to interfere with his normal breathing through his nose.  “Of course.  We would actually expect nothing different.  We get rather upset when people use magic to appear in the midst of our temple, it is only fair to allow you to reciprocate that feeling.  And assuming that one of you will be able to be contacted so that we can arrange further inquiries …”

The female Wizard’s College guard threw up her left hand in disgust.  “Of course.  Must we continue on with all these stipulations?  I’d personally rather get to the business at hand so that we can purge this abomination’s influence from our college.  Can we just agree that we will respond civilly toward each other and move along?”

Brandt and Semeion exchanged smiles.  They knew wizards, and each of them had immediately come up with a sarcastic rebuttal in their mind.  Yet, this was no longer the time or the place for sarcasm.  If they were to move forward, it would need to be done in honest and respectful relations with one another.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
*Chapter Eleven: KILLING THE ROOTS AND ALL*

Ischarus continued to embrace Charis and his wife for several more seconds. He didn’t speak until he heard his wife let out a small cough from just above the carpet floor. Immediatemely he let his grip slacken to give her room to breathe. “Rhema? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Charis also slipped away from her position of protecting her helpless form. She knelt beside her recovering friend and began to use her hand to feel several places of Rhema’s skin. She was checking Rhema’s temperature and looking for places of bruising or perhaps even infection.

Rhema didn’t understand Ischarus’ comments at all. “Sorry for what, Ischarus? We all still seem to be alive. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Ischarus began to speak, but Charis caught his eye and made him hold his tongue. Instead, she took a turn to speak. “Rhema, you’ve hit your head pretty badly, and there is a little swelling. That will eventually go away. I think you’ve had a pretty rough couple of minutes, and I think we’d be wise to let you come back to your senses before telling you about the fight that you missed, don’t you?”

Ischarus smiled, but it was clear that he wasn’t pleased with Charis’ assertion. He knew that it was the wise course of action, but he didn’t like knowing that he was going to have to carry around the burden of his guilt until Rhema was in a better position to hear about his deeds. He sighed, and wordlessly stroked his wife’s hair. There was no need to bring her to a standing position until the party figured out what was happening next.

Charis rose to her feet and moved to check on Ophee. She had seen Ophee pass out upon the dismissal of the succubus, but was more concerned with the immediate urgency of making sure that Rhema was going to recover from Ophee’s spell. She assumed that Ophee had not suffered any injuries from the dbanishment of the succubus, and when she arrived to check on her she found that she was correct. Ophee was in good condition, simply unconscious.

The Wizard’s College guard, who had turned herself into a citrine dragon, now turned her draconic head to look towards the closest wall. Her gaze was right above where Ophee had fallen and Charis currently knelt. The dragon appeared to be listening to an inaudible voice because it then nodded several times and mentally dismissed the spell that kept her in dragon form. Her body reversed the process it had undergone to place her into the dragon form and in a matter of seconds she had reverted back into a typical Wizard’s College guard.

The party hadn’t had the time to observe her before, but now that they were away from the stress of the fight they had better time to examine her. She was nearly as tall as a typical human woman, but her facial features were much more defined like those of an elf. Her golden hair and her blended green and yellow eyes also spoke of a mixed lineage. When she spoke after dismissing the spell, her voice was in stark contrast compared to the draconic voice that she had used as a citrine dragon. “You have been a great help in stopping a great evil. Your service to our college is highly appreciated, but I am afraid that we must ask you to leave now that your business here is concluded.”

Semeion’s glance turned away from his routine observation of his friends laying and kneeling upon the floor. His eyebrows wrinkled together as he heard the words and a look of shock flashed through his eyes and lips. “What? You are asking us to leave? Without us, you wouldn’t have even known that your colleague was even a threat!”

Master Searthu continued the argument. “Indeed. I know that you all in the Wizard’s College are highly secretive about your methods of teaching magic. But even taking that into consideration your request is simply illogical, especially for wizards. We’re not sure that the succubus’ influence has been dealt with. We’re not sure that the effects of the Arum Dracunculus have been effectively stopped. For that matter, you all don’t seem to even care that the Arum Dracunculus had been used at all!”

One of the invisible Wizard’s College guards allowed the spell of invisibility to lose effectiveness. He appeared in the position that the first guard had looked while in the form of the citrine dragon. “I understand your desire to remain here and find your answers, but you must understand that your presence simply is not allowed. You cannot deny that the only reason that you are standing where you are now is from a series of illegal transports through a security system that was designed to keep you out. In spite of your helpfulness, the fact remains that you are guilty of trespassing. We have the right to ask you to leave.”

Semeion continued the argument. In spite of disagreeing with their conclusions, he couldn’t deny feeling a certain kinship to the Wizard’s College guards and their desire for keeping their methods secret. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m the first one to appreciate the privacy and intimacy of the study of magic. I know that I was taught my abilities by a master who would no doubt be considered a renegade by your terms, but even my master made me understand the importance of knowing to whom you are showing your magic.” He turned so that his shoulders stood open to his friends. “But are you blind to what just happened here? In an attempt to save you all from a threat that you didn’t even know was in your midst, I almost lost a wife and a few friends. For Reah’s sake, how can you possibly ask us to leave considering the sacrifice we were willing to make for your protection? We’re not asking to stay and observe the teaching of your magic. We are asking to be allowed to stay and find answers regarding how far the plan of the wizard – or perhaps the succubus – had spread throughout the land.”

The female Wizard’s College guard focused upon Semeion as he invoked Reah’s name. “That is twice that you all have made mention of Reah since you have entered the Wizard’s College.” She turned to where her now visible colleague stood and paused for several seconds before finishing her thought. “Very well, we will allow you to stay here in these quarters. You must agree to not venture out into the remainder of the Wizard’s College. You may search for your answers here and here alone.”

Master Brandt frowned, but nodded in agreement. “So long as you two are willing to stay and answer our questions honestly …”

Ischarus lifted his head to the discussion for the first time since collapsing from fear of what he almost unwillingly accomplished. Up until now he had been listening, but his eyes were glued to Rhema’s face. “Three, Brandt. There are three.”

Brandt and Semeion exchanged confused looks and turned their expressions back to the female guard. They didn’t need to say anything; their look of disapproval spoke volumes to the guard. Brandt lifted an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer.

The female guard looked again in the direction of the now visible guard. She breathed in a deep breath and nodded. As with the other guard who had turned himself invisible, the third guard let go of the protective spell of invisibility and materialized before the party. Once he was visible, he addressed the party. As he spoke, his hands and arms opened in a gesture of welcoming. “Very well. We can answer your questions, assuming that you agree to our terms as stated. You will be satisfied with our answers, and if you are not satisfied you will be patient while we try to find deeper answers. You will not leave these quarters.”

Brandt looked to Master Searthu and received an encouraging nod. “That is acceptable.”

The most recently appearing of the guards continued to speak. “And, since you have dealt with the threat that caused you to violate our policy of secrecy we must also ask one other stipulation. When you decide to leave, you may teleport out of the Wizard’s College. But then you may not return except by adhering to the proper channels of addressing the Wizard’s College. In the future, all visits must be prearranged. We will be willing to discuss future inquiries, but once you leave you will not be permitted to return through the use of magic without us considering it an act of aggression.”

Master Searthu smiled deceptively and allowed a slight chuckle to interfere with his normal breathing through his nose. “Of course. We would actually expect nothing different. We get rather upset when people use magic to appear in the midst of our temple, it is only fair to allow you to reciprocate that feeling. And assuming that one of you will be able to be contacted so that we can arrange further inquiries …”

The female Wizard’s College guard threw up her left hand in disgust. “Of course. Must we continue on with all these stipulations? I’d personally rather get to the business at hand so that we can purge this abomination’s influence from our college. Can we just agree that we will respond civilly toward each other and move along?”

Brandt and Semeion exchanged smiles. They knew wizards, and each of them had immediately come up with a sarcastic rebuttal in their mind. Yet, this was no longer the time or the place for sarcasm. If they were to move forward, it would need to be done in honest and respectful relations with one another.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 16, 2007)

Ischarus stood, resting his wife’s head carefully on the thick carpet.  “Wait a minute.  The last time that we were here this associate of yours conjured up some kind of illusion.  It didn’t fight like an illusion, though.  It felt real enough.  After what I’ve just seen, I’d be willing to bet that it was no illusion.”

The male guard who had given up his invisibility smiled sarcastically and looked directly into Iscahrus’ eyes.  “Our associate was a wizard of significant power.  I am sure that an illusion from his hands would not be so easily perceived.”  His tone gave credibility to the possibility that the guard’s look was sincerely sarcastic.

The other male guard placed a calming hand upon the shoulder of the guard who had just spoken.  “Now is not the time for sarcasm.  If we are to honor our agreement, we must be willing to work together.  Besides, the less sarcastic we are the quicker we will be able to accomplish this task.  The quicker we can accomplish this task, the quicker things can revert back to normal and these people can return to their temple.”

Semeion brought the conversation back on task.  “No, Ischarus is right.  I was sure that the words used were a summoning spell and not that of an illusion.  If I recall correctly, the spell cast was at least in the power range of a Diast effect.  And if I am still recalling correctly it carried the Pahl descriptor.”

The three guards immediately blanched at Semeion’s description.  The male guard who seemed to have authority over the other two spoke hastily upon Semeion’s recognition.  “But, that’s impossible.  Pahl magic is forbidden in Tongra, much less in the Wizard’s College itself!  He would have certainly set off alarms if the magic was used in the vicinity of the college.  You must be mistaken.”

Rhema allowed herself to mimic the sarcasm of the guard from only moments before.  She was beginning to feel a throbbing in her head from the fall, and she didn’t care much for civility at this point.  “Well, you said it yourself.  The magic of your associate was quite powerful.  Perhaps more powerful than you even thought?”

Brandt decided it was only fair that her sarcasm be reprimanded as well.  “Rhema, careful.”

Charis had been studying Semeion’s face since he had spoken the words.  Her eyes were looking right into his lips when she realized what she was searching for.  “Daancrah.  It was Daancrah magic as well.  I know it, because much of my magic is Daancrah.  It isn’t Daancrah Pahl magic like the wizard’s, though.  My magic is Daancrah Teos magic.”

The female guard nodded politely.  Her half-elven eyes disclosed the fact that she was processing the information as quickly as it was being spoken.  “To be fair, and I assume by the number of people participating in this conversation that I am speaking to people who have familiarity with magic here, but illusion magic by default mimics other kinds of magic.  Your ears may have heard Daancrah magic because you are so accustomed to using it.  Our associate may have simply been using illusion magic to deceive your ears.  If your ears were deceived, then your eyes would be even more easily deceived.”

Charis shook her heard.  “No.  My ears heard correctly.  It was Daancrah magic that was conjured.  And I’m pretty sure that Semeion was right.  It was at least a Diast effect.”

The most authoritative guard turned to Semeion.  “If it was Daancrah magic, a Diast effect, and using a Pahl descriptor, then what exactly was the result of the summoning spell?  It couldn’t have been good.”

Before Semeion could answer, Rhema raised a slight hand, indicating that although she was on the ground she’d like another chance at speaking.  The conversation paused until she knew they were ready to listen.  “I know that I’m still recovering from the fall and everything.  And the throbbing in my head is actually getting worse.  But I agree with Semeion.  If I remember right, Semeion warned us that the wizard was summoning something big and nasty.  I can’t remember the exact words Semeion used, but he warned us that something big was coming through the magic.”

Semeion waited for her to finish and then continued the story.  “I did, and it was.  Looking back, it all makes sense.  The creature seemed outraged at being summoned, but once the wizard tried to convince me that it was merely illusion magic I assumed that it was all part of the illusion.  Now, I’m not so sure.”

Master Searthu didn’t have any trouble reading the writing on the wall.  “You think the succubus inside this wizard gave him the power to summon something evil from her homeland?”

Ischarus smiled, pleased that his original assertion was gaining credibility.  “I’d not only think it.  I’d guarantee it.”

Semeion quickly spoke after Ischarus’ assertion, taking control of the conversation back in the direction in which he wanted it to go.  “The creature only stood about six feet in height, but its dark glowing red eyes and green scaly skin told me that it was not native to the lands of Enigmatica.  The eyes were without pupils, and it revealed razor sharp teeth as it spoke.  Its appendages looked as though they had been blackened from exposure to heat or soot and it fought with the nastiest looking voulge-guisarme that I have ever seen.”

The three guards were speechless.  However, Brandt was not.  “I don’t know about you all, but that sounds like something out of the realm of the succubus to me.  In fact, it sounds like a pretty good description of a fiend if I’ve ever heard one.  It’s either that or a really good illusion.  Even if it was an illusion, it is an illusion at the hands of someone who knows what they are trying to fake.”

The guard with the power nodded in agreement.  “I don’t think that there can be any doubt.  If it was an illusion, it was not an excusable one.  But after hearing the description and seeing what I saw in here I actually do not doubt that the wizard was dealing in Pahl magic.  I also know that if he was doing that successfully without our awareness, then we have our own problems to take care of once you all are satisfied with the answers that you have received.”

The head guard turned to the one that had made the earlier sarcastic remark and frowned out of sadness before continuing to speak again.  “Unfortunately, I think it is safe to assume that we have been in error, and we do not have as good of a hold on our college as we think.  Our security forces will need to tighten.”

The other male guard nodded in reply, but did not make eye contact with the one who had just spoken.  He knew that while the message was meant for his ears it, the burden was shared by all.  A man had died because they had grown too confident.

Brandt decided that the Wizard’s College guards had made enough concessions for the moment.  Ischarus’ sidetrack had bought them understanding, but the direction of the conversation needed to change to prevent shame from entering the relationship.  “I’ve been thinking, and I am pretty sure that if you allow us to stay for the evening – under guard, of course – that Master Searthu and myself could be quite useful in performing a detoxification rite should we find anyone else in you college unknowingly suffering from the effects of the Arum Dracunculus.  We’d provide this service for free, of course.  And that would assume that you all have a need for it.”

The female guard smiled in Brandt’s direction, glad to leave the prior conversation.  “Again we would be in your debt.  However, your sense of justice is indeed noble.  I assume that your program for detoxification would involve magic and it would not be hindered by my presence as a neutral party?”

Master Searthu bowed slightly in respect of the woman’s position.  “Justice always works in favor of those who have been abused.  Our magic would be working in their favor, although the detoxification process is not easy.  This is especially true for those who likely have been brought under its control unknowingly.  But I would welcome your presence in the process as an advocate for the abused.”

Master Searthu had chosen the last five words of his response especially well, and Charis smiled as she recognized what he had done.  He had taken it upon himself to identify the motivation of the half-elf guard and not only acknowledge it but do so in a welcoming tone.  She turned her head to watch the expression of the half-elf and saw how her face warmly accepted the offer.

The half-elf pushed several locks of her hair back from her eyes.  “I would be interested in helping your program in any means possible, assuming that we find a few who need the services.”

The odd collection of people that had gathered in the dead wizard’s suite now spent several of the next hours looking for clues that would indicate the need for a detoxification program prescribed by Brandt and Master Searthu.  Their search encompassed all the wizard’s rooms.  It was Ischarus who found the log book on a shelf.

Ischarus had pulled down a book bound in leather with the title of “Western Indulgences.”  He smiled as he pulled the book off the shelf.  He knew immediately what he had, even before he opened the book.  “Indulgences indeed.”

Rhema was still lying on the floor near to his position and she spoke softly to him.  “Did you say something, Ischarus?”

Ischarus smiled as he heard the binding give a slight crack upon the opening of the book.  “It’s a book, Rhema.  It’s called ‘Western Indulgences.’  It’s about indulgences of the mind, if I’m guessing correctly.”  He flipped the book open and a noticeable frown appeared upon his face.

Rhema saw the frown and inquired.  “Not what you thought?”

Ischarus couldn’t believe what he was looking at.  It was a cookbook of rare delicacies of Tongra.  “Not at all.  It is a cookbook.  There are all kinds of recipes on cooking rabbit, quail, and plenty of other types of game.  Not at all…”

His voice trailed off.  His eyes had found an interesting entry.  Rhema raised an eyebrow in his direction.  “Are you going to finish that sentence?”

Ischarus smiled and snapped the book shut.  “I found an interesting entry.  It was under the ‘S’ heading.  Would you care to guess what the main dish was called?”

Rhema shook her head side to side.  “I don’t know.  Stuffed pheasant?”

Ischarus chuckled at her offering.  “Close, but not quite.  Stink Lily.  And if I am reading the list of ingredients right, we’re missing four of his agents still.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus stood, resting his wife’s head carefully on the thick carpet. “Wait a minute. The last time that we were here this associate of yours conjured up some kind of illusion. It didn’t fight like an illusion, though. It felt real enough. After what I’ve just seen, I’d be willing to bet that it was no illusion.”

The male guard who had given up his invisibility smiled sarcastically and looked directly into Iscahrus’ eyes. “Our associate was a wizard of significant power. I am sure that an illusion from his hands would not be so easily perceived.” His tone gave credibility to the possibility that the guard’s look was sincerely sarcastic.

The other male guard placed a calming hand upon the shoulder of the guard who had just spoken. “Now is not the time for sarcasm. If we are to honor our agreement, we must be willing to work together. Besides, the less sarcastic we are the quicker we will be able to accomplish this task. The quicker we can accomplish this task, the quicker things can revert back to normal and these people can return to their temple.”

Semeion brought the conversation back on task. “No, Ischarus is right. I was sure that the words used were a summoning spell and not that of an illusion. If I recall correctly, the spell cast was at least in the power range of a Diast effect. And if I am still recalling correctly it carried the Pahl descriptor.”

The three guards immediately blanched at Semeion’s description. The male guard who seemed to have authority over the other two spoke hastily upon Semeion’s recognition. “But, that’s impossible. Pahl magic is forbidden in Tongra, much less in the Wizard’s College itself! He would have certainly set off alarms if the magic was used in the vicinity of the college. You must be mistaken.”

Rhema allowed herself to mimic the sarcasm of the guard from only moments before. She was beginning to feel a throbbing in her head from the fall, and she didn’t care much for civility at this point. “Well, you said it yourself. The magic of your associate was quite powerful. Perhaps more powerful than you even thought?”

Brandt decided it was only fair that her sarcasm be reprimanded as well. “Rhema, careful.”

Charis had been studying Semeion’s face since he had spoken the words. Her eyes were looking right into his lips when she realized what she was searching for. “Daancrah. It was Daancrah magic as well. I know it, because much of my magic is Daancrah. It isn’t Daancrah Pahl magic like the wizard’s, though. My magic is Daancrah Teos magic.”

The female guard nodded politely. Her half-elven eyes disclosed the fact that she was processing the information as quickly as it was being spoken. “To be fair, and I assume by the number of people participating in this conversation that I am speaking to people who have familiarity with magic here, but illusion magic by default mimics other kinds of magic. Your ears may have heard Daancrah magic because you are so accustomed to using it. Our associate may have simply been using illusion magic to deceive your ears. If your ears were deceived, then your eyes would be even more easily deceived.”

Charis shook her heard. “No. My ears heard correctly. It was Daancrah magic that was conjured. And I’m pretty sure that Semeion was right. It was at least a Diast effect.”

The most authoritative guard turned to Semeion. “If it was Daancrah magic, a Diast effect, and using a Pahl descriptor, then what exactly was the result of the summoning spell? It couldn’t have been good.”

Before Semeion could answer, Rhema raised a slight hand, indicating that although she was on the ground she’d like another chance at speaking. The conversation paused until she knew they were ready to listen. “I know that I’m still recovering from the fall and everything. And the throbbing in my head is actually getting worse. But I agree with Semeion. If I remember right, Semeion warned us that the wizard was summoning something big and nasty. I can’t remember the exact words Semeion used, but he warned us that something big was coming through the magic.”

Semeion waited for her to finish and then continued the story. “I did, and it was. Looking back, it all makes sense. The creature seemed outraged at being summoned, but once the wizard tried to convince me that it was merely illusion magic I assumed that it was all part of the illusion. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Master Searthu didn’t have any trouble reading the writing on the wall. “You think the succubus inside this wizard gave him the power to summon something evil from her homeland?”

Ischarus smiled, pleased that his original assertion was gaining credibility. “I’d not only think it. I’d guarantee it.”

Semeion quickly spoke after Ischarus’ assertion, taking control of the conversation back in the direction in which he wanted it to go. “The creature only stood about six feet in height, but its dark glowing red eyes and green scaly skin told me that it was not native to the lands of Enigmatica. The eyes were without pupils, and it revealed razor sharp teeth as it spoke. Its appendages looked as though they had been blackened from exposure to heat or soot and it fought with the nastiest looking voulge-guisarme that I have ever seen.”

The three guards were speechless. However, Brandt was not. “I don’t know about you all, but that sounds like something out of the realm of the succubus to me. In fact, it sounds like a pretty good description of a fiend if I’ve ever heard one. It’s either that or a really good illusion. Even if it was an illusion, it is an illusion at the hands of someone who knows what they are trying to fake.”

The guard with the power nodded in agreement. “I don’t think that there can be any doubt. If it was an illusion, it was not an excusable one. But after hearing the description and seeing what I saw in here I actually do not doubt that the wizard was dealing in Pahl magic. I also know that if he was doing that successfully without our awareness, then we have our own problems to take care of once you all are satisfied with the answers that you have received.”

The head guard turned to the one that had made the earlier sarcastic remark and frowned out of sadness before continuing to speak again. “Unfortunately, I think it is safe to assume that we have been in error, and we do not have as good of a hold on our college as we think. Our security forces will need to tighten.”

The other male guard nodded in reply, but did not make eye contact with the one who had just spoken. He knew that while the message was meant for his ears it, the burden was shared by all. A man had died because they had grown too confident.

Brandt decided that the Wizard’s College guards had made enough concessions for the moment. Ischarus’ sidetrack had bought them understanding, but the direction of the conversation needed to change to prevent shame from entering the relationship. “I’ve been thinking, and I am pretty sure that if you allow us to stay for the evening – under guard, of course – that Master Searthu and myself could be quite useful in performing a detoxification rite should we find anyone else in you college unknowingly suffering from the effects of the Arum Dracunculus. We’d provide this service for free, of course. And that would assume that you all have a need for it.”

The female guard smiled in Brandt’s direction, glad to leave the prior conversation. “Again we would be in your debt. However, your sense of justice is indeed noble. I assume that your program for detoxification would involve magic and it would not be hindered by my presence as a neutral party?”

Master Searthu bowed slightly in respect of the woman’s position. “Justice always works in favor of those who have been abused. Our magic would be working in their favor, although the detoxification process is not easy. This is especially true for those who likely have been brought under its control unknowingly. But I would welcome your presence in the process as an advocate for the abused.”

Master Searthu had chosen the last five words of his response especially well, and Charis smiled as she recognized what he had done. He had taken it upon himself to identify the motivation of the half-elf guard and not only acknowledge it but do so in a welcoming tone. She turned her head to watch the expression of the half-elf and saw how her face warmly accepted the offer.

The half-elf pushed several locks of her hair back from her eyes. “I would be interested in helping your program in any means possible, assuming that we find a few who need the services.”

The odd collection of people that had gathered in the dead wizard’s suite now spent several of the next hours looking for clues that would indicate the need for a detoxification program prescribed by Brandt and Master Searthu. Their search encompassed all the wizard’s rooms. It was Ischarus who found the log book on a shelf.

Ischarus had pulled down a book bound in leather with the title of “Western Indulgences.” He smiled as he pulled the book off the shelf. He knew immediately what he had, even before he opened the book. “Indulgences indeed.”

Rhema was still lying on the floor near to his position and she spoke softly to him. “Did you say something, Ischarus?”

Ischarus smiled as he heard the binding give a slight crack upon the opening of the book. “It’s a book, Rhema. It’s called ‘Western Indulgences.’ It’s about indulgences of the mind, if I’m guessing correctly.” He flipped the book open and a noticeable frown appeared upon his face.

Rhema saw the frown and inquired. “Not what you thought?”

Ischarus couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It was a cookbook of rare delicacies of Tongra. “Not at all. It is a cookbook. There are all kinds of recipes on cooking rabbit, quail, and plenty of other types of game. Not at all…”

His voice trailed off. His eyes had found an interesting entry. Rhema raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Are you going to finish that sentence?”

Ischarus smiled and snapped the book shut. “I found an interesting entry. It was under the ‘S’ heading. Would you care to guess what the main dish was called?”

Rhema shook her head side to side. “I don’t know. Stuffed pheasant?”

Ischarus chuckled at her offering. “Close, but not quite. Stink Lily. And if I am reading the list of ingredients right, we’re missing four of his agents still.”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 17, 2007)

Rhema decided that she had rested enough and was able to stand up.  The cookbook had intrigued her, and she wanted a piece of the action after having been lying down for so long.  “Cookbook?  Now there’s an interesting place to hide some information.  Mind if I take a look?”

Ischarus smiled and skimmed over the page one last time before closing the book, using his thumb as a bookmark.  Rhema slowly walked over to his position and slipped her finger in the gap between the pages created by his thumb.  Once her finger was in the book, Ischarus released his grip and allowed Rhema to take possession.

Her left hand found the gap in the pages and folded the book open.  Her eyes couldn’t really believe what they were seeing.  It was a legitimate cookbook with some legitimate recipes.  The entry immediately preceding the one that had caught Ischarus’ attention was for steamed vegetables with a honey glaze sauce.  Her eyes skimmed the recipe and decided that the simple recipe was reasonable.

Once her morbid curiosity about the recipe was satisfied, her eyes turned to the recipe for Stink Lily.  Clearly, it was not a cooking recipe.  Instead it was a list designed to look like a list of ingredients.  She read the list aloud to herself and Ischarus.  “Pahk, Thealle, Skuundar, Jerome, Darr, Haroth, Allyssa, Ehre, Eliah, and Barra.”

She paused for a moment, allowing the information to absorb into her mind.  “That’s interesting to say the least.  The way that the list is designed to look like a series of ingredients is absolutely uncanny.”

Ischarus was a bit ahead of Rhema’s thoughts since he had spent a few more minutes in contact with the names.  “I recognize six of those names, of course.  Jerome, Darr, Haroth, Ehre, Eliah, and Barra are the ones that we already went against.  Do you recognize any of the others?”

The gentle elven voice of the female Wizard’s College guard startled the pair as it intruded upon their private conversation.  “Thealle is known to me.  She is a full blooded elf here within the Wizard’s College.  She had been studying under our associate.  In fact, he had requested to work with her.  Now, it makes sense.  She has a passion for research, especially in discovering substances with potential magical abilities. She really enjoyed any excuse to enter into the library and immerse herself for hours in the books.  I can’t imagine that she’ll be too hard to find.”

Ischarus moved so that he could once again look at the list, although he was still looking over Rhema’s right shoulder.  “Well, perhaps that tells us something.  I was a bit concerned that I didn’t recognize the first three on the list, especially when I realized that the ones I did recognize seemed to be in a descending order of importance.”

Rhema returned her eyes to the list.  “You’re right, Ischarus.  Of the names that I recognize, the list fits a general description of strength and importance that Ophee told us earlier.  So that makes one that we don’t know in the middle and three at the top of the list.”

Ischarus nodded with the words of his wife.  “Yeah, that’s what had me a bit worried.  Brandt was sent after Jerome, and that was not exactly a simple battle if I understand what happened.  Since there are three names above Jerome, I had been thinking that it might not be a good sign. But if Thealle is a simple researcher here in the college, maybe there is a reason that those three names are at the top of the list.”

The half-elven guard smiled as if she enjoyed information not known by the other two.  “Well, she’s not just a researcher.”  She paused until Ischarus and Rhema looked up to her face.  “She is an apprentice to a powerful wizard.  Depending on what magic she was taught, I would dare say she could be as skilled in the use of magic as any of you or I.”

Ischarus nodded at the correction.  “Would you care to alert the others of your order to see if they know anything more about these other names?  There’s no sense getting Semeion or Charis involved quite yet, because they still might turn up something else.”

The female guard spoke flatly.  “I’ll get Mallus.  Being a routine security officer means he’s more likely to know faces and names.”

The half-elven woman spun on her heels and was gone for a little over a minute.  When she returned, she brought the associate who had given up his invisibility first after the fight with the succubus.  Mallus stepped over to Rhema and held out a hand to examine the book.  “May I examine the list that you have found?”

Rhema handed the book over to the Wizard’s College guard and watched for any change of expression.  After a few moments the guard’s face developed a slight sarcastic grin which was followed by several knowing nods.  He bit his lower lip for several seconds while his eyes gave the impression that he was deep in thought.

He examined the book for nearly a minute and then spoke while looking at the list, seemingly avoiding eye contact with Ischarus and Rhema.  “Pahk I know well.  Pahk is best described as the wizard’s servant.  Although in truth, slave is probably a better term.  Pahk was, or perhaps is, highly devoted to the wizard.  The story was that the wizard had saved him from a terrible fate and in exchange Pahk served the wizard willingly.  Looking on the situation in the light of today’s findings, I would not be surprised if Pahk was kept continuously under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus and used as a slave.  He’s what we here in the Wizard’s College rightly refer to as a Dolos.  That’s the name they prefer to give themselves, although fables and myths have given them a different name: goblin.  You probably know the type.  They’re the short little guys that mythology tells as having sharp teeth and thieving hands.”

Rhema smiled as she thought back to the one who had taught her to use her mind as a force.  She knew the type, but to her they weren’t scary or vicious.  Their appearance had made them misunderstood.  “Yeah, I know the type.  Some of them are quick intelligent and have a mind for magic and mental acuity, right?”

Mallus nodded, impressed by Rhema’s conclusion.  His eyes drifted up off of the book and met hers.  “Indeed.  You have a greater respect for their abilities than most.  Either way, I can tell you that Pahk has been working for his master quite loyally for several years.  I believe that he would learn a few minor magical tricks in exchange for his services, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Pahk is brighter than normal.  To exist in the Wizard’s College for any length of time, one cannot have diminished mental capacities.”

Ischarus continued with his recollection of the list.  “Well, that would explain why Pahk is at the top of the list.  If I recall correctly, that leaves one more near the top and one in the middle that we could not identify.  Do you know all the rest on the list?”

Mallus shook his head.  “No.  Actually, it would seem that you know more than I do.  The only names on this list that are even remotely familiar are Pahk, Thealle, and Skuundar.  Thealle and Pahk you have been told about.  Skuundar is an interesting character.  We don’t get many dwarves who qualify for the requirements of the Wizard’s College, but Skuundar surprised most of us.  Like Thealle, he has a knack for researching.  Unlike Thealle, his area of expertise is cultural history.”

Rhema nodded, easily accepting the information.  “Not unusual for a true dwarf, assuming that Skuundar is dwarven to the core.”

Mallus laughed, exposing a crack in the carapace of reserved diligence that had grown over his personality ever since he had been chastised about the necessary improvements needed to the Wizard’s College security procedures.  “There is nothing un-dwarven about Skuundar, really.  Son of dwarves, he was raised with dwarven pride.  He can count back nearly forty generations of true dwarves.  He knows a good bit of the royal history of the line from which King Rupert comes.  In fact, I think he can recite a good bit of the pedigree from the majority of dukes, lords, and earls of Tongra.”

Semeion’s voice broke in upon the gathering.  “Well, that would be important to the wizard’s plan.  He was planning on exposing weaknesses in the leadership of Tongra and assuming control of the confederacy.  To do that, he’d need to know from where they came.”

Semeion was standing in the doorway, and he hadn’t been there long.  He walked over to the book and looked around Mallus’ left shoulder to get a glimpse of the page that had everyone else’s attention.  He shook his head as his mind tried to twist itself around the sickness that would be present in a mind that would put this kind of list in a cookbook.

Ischarus caught Semeion and Mallus up to speed on the rest of the names.  For Semeion’s benefit, Ischarus explained the first several names.  “The first three seem to be people that the wizard used here within the Wizard’s College to gather the information that he needed.”  He paused to indicate that his audience was changing from Semeion to Mallus.  “The other names, save Allyssa, are people that we have already taken into custody.  One in each of the significant towns of Tongra: Eberdeen, Juniper, Bacrothen, Reignsburg, Partuss, and Classo.”

Rhema finished Ischarus’ thought for him.  “That leaves Allyssa as the final piece to the puzzle.”

A dark smile passed across Semeion’s face.  “I know my kind, as painful as that may be for me to admit from time to time.  Think about it.  What hole recently developed in the wizard’s plan?  What’s missing from the list that Ischarus just gave us?”

Ischarus and Rhema both immediately understood Semeion assertion.  Ischarus spoke first.  “Fingerdale.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, Fingerdale.  Our backyard.”

Semeion smiled.  “Yep, we removed Ophee from his plan.  There would need to be a substitute.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema decided that she had rested enough and was able to stand up. The cookbook had intrigued her, and she wanted a piece of the action after having been lying down for so long. “Cookbook? Now there’s an interesting place to hide some information. Mind if I take a look?”

Ischarus smiled and skimmed over the page one last time before closing the book, using his thumb as a bookmark. Rhema slowly walked over to his position and slipped her finger in the gap between the pages created by his thumb. Once her finger was in the book, Ischarus released his grip and allowed Rhema to take possession.

Her left hand found the gap in the pages and folded the book open. Her eyes couldn’t really believe what they were seeing. It was a legitimate cookbook with some legitimate recipes. The entry immediately preceding the one that had caught Ischarus’ attention was for steamed vegetables with a honey glaze sauce. Her eyes skimmed the recipe and decided that the simple recipe was reasonable.

Once her morbid curiosity about the recipe was satisfied, her eyes turned to the recipe for Stink Lily. Clearly, it was not a cooking recipe. Instead it was a list designed to look like a list of ingredients. She read the list aloud to herself and Ischarus. “Pahk, Thealle, Skuundar, Jerome, Darr, Haroth, Allyssa, Ehre, Eliah, and Barra.”

She paused for a moment, allowing the information to absorb into her mind. “That’s interesting to say the least. The way that the list is designed to look like a series of ingredients is absolutely uncanny.”

Ischarus was a bit ahead of Rhema’s thoughts since he had spent a few more minutes in contact with the names. “I recognize six of those names, of course. Jerome, Darr, Haroth, Ehre, Eliah, and Barra are the ones that we already went against. Do you recognize any of the others?”

The gentle elven voice of the female Wizard’s College guard startled the pair as it intruded upon their private conversation. “Thealle is known to me. She is a full blooded elf here within the Wizard’s College. She had been studying under our associate. In fact, he had requested to work with her. Now, it makes sense. She has a passion for research, especially in discovering substances with potential magical abilities. She really enjoyed any excuse to enter into the library and immerse herself for hours in the books. I can’t imagine that she’ll be too hard to find.”

Ischarus moved so that he could once again look at the list, although he was still looking over Rhema’s right shoulder. “Well, perhaps that tells us something. I was a bit concerned that I didn’t recognize the first three on the list, especially when I realized that the ones I did recognize seemed to be in a descending order of importance.”

Rhema returned her eyes to the list. “You’re right, Ischarus. Of the names that I recognize, the list fits a general description of strength and importance that Ophee told us earlier. So that makes one that we don’t know in the middle and three at the top of the list.”

Ischarus nodded with the words of his wife. “Yeah, that’s what had me a bit worried. Brandt was sent after Jerome, and that was not exactly a simple battle if I understand what happened. Since there are three names above Jerome, I had been thinking that it might not be a good sign. But if Thealle is a simple researcher here in the college, maybe there is a reason that those three names are at the top of the list.”

The half-elven guard smiled as if she enjoyed information not known by the other two. “Well, she’s not just a researcher.” She paused until Ischarus and Rhema looked up to her face. “She is an apprentice to a powerful wizard. Depending on what magic she was taught, I would dare say she could be as skilled in the use of magic as any of you or I.”

Ischarus nodded at the correction. “Would you care to alert the others of your order to see if they know anything more about these other names? There’s no sense getting Semeion or Charis involved quite yet, because they still might turn up something else.”

The female guard spoke flatly. “I’ll get Mallus. Being a routine security officer means he’s more likely to know faces and names.”

The half-elven woman spun on her heels and was gone for a little over a minute. When she returned, she brought the associate who had given up his invisibility first after the fight with the succubus. Mallus stepped over to Rhema and held out a hand to examine the book. “May I examine the list that you have found?”

Rhema handed the book over to the Wizard’s College guard and watched for any change of expression. After a few moments the guard’s face developed a slight sarcastic grin which was followed by several knowing nods. He bit his lower lip for several seconds while his eyes gave the impression that he was deep in thought.

He examined the book for nearly a minute and then spoke while looking at the list, seemingly avoiding eye contact with Ischarus and Rhema. “Pahk I know well. Pahk is best described as the wizard’s servant. Although in truth, slave is probably a better term. Pahk was, or perhaps is, highly devoted to the wizard. The story was that the wizard had saved him from a terrible fate and in exchange Pahk served the wizard willingly. Looking on the situation in the light of today’s findings, I would not be surprised if Pahk was kept continuously under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus and used as a slave. He’s what we here in the Wizard’s College rightly refer to as a Dolos. That’s the name they prefer to give themselves, although fables and myths have given them a different name: goblin. You probably know the type. They’re the short little guys that mythology tells as having sharp teeth and thieving hands.”

Rhema smiled as she thought back to the one who had taught her to use her mind as a force. She knew the type, but to her they weren’t scary or vicious. Their appearance had made them misunderstood. “Yeah, I know the type. Some of them are quick intelligent and have a mind for magic and mental acuity, right?”

Mallus nodded, impressed by Rhema’s conclusion. His eyes drifted up off of the book and met hers. “Indeed. You have a greater respect for their abilities than most. Either way, I can tell you that Pahk has been working for his master quite loyally for several years. I believe that he would learn a few minor magical tricks in exchange for his services, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Pahk is brighter than normal. To exist in the Wizard’s College for any length of time, one cannot have diminished mental capacities.”

Ischarus continued with his recollection of the list. “Well, that would explain why Pahk is at the top of the list. If I recall correctly, that leaves one more near the top and one in the middle that we could not identify. Do you know all the rest on the list?”

Mallus shook his head. “No. Actually, it would seem that you know more than I do. The only names on this list that are even remotely familiar are Pahk, Thealle, and Skuundar. Thealle and Pahk you have been told about. Skuundar is an interesting character. We don’t get many dwarves who qualify for the requirements of the Wizard’s College, but Skuundar surprised most of us. Like Thealle, he has a knack for researching. Unlike Thealle, his area of expertise is cultural history.”

Rhema nodded, easily accepting the information. “Not unusual for a true dwarf, assuming that Skuundar is dwarven to the core.”

Mallus laughed, exposing a crack in the carapace of reserved diligence that had grown over his personality ever since he had been chastised about the necessary improvements needed to the Wizard’s College security procedures. “There is nothing un-dwarven about Skuundar, really. Son of dwarves, he was raised with dwarven pride. He can count back nearly forty generations of true dwarves. He knows a good bit of the royal history of the line from which King Rupert comes. In fact, I think he can recite a good bit of the pedigree from the majority of dukes, lords, and earls of Tongra.”

Semeion’s voice broke in upon the gathering. “Well, that would be important to the wizard’s plan. He was planning on exposing weaknesses in the leadership of Tongra and assuming control of the confederacy. To do that, he’d need to know from where they came.”

Semeion was standing in the doorway, and he hadn’t been there long. He walked over to the book and looked around Mallus’ left shoulder to get a glimpse of the page that had everyone else’s attention. He shook his head as his mind tried to twist itself around the sickness that would be present in a mind that would put this kind of list in a cookbook.

Ischarus caught Semeion and Mallus up to speed on the rest of the names. For Semeion’s benefit, Ischarus explained the first several names. “The first three seem to be people that the wizard used here within the Wizard’s College to gather the information that he needed.” He paused to indicate that his audience was changing from Semeion to Mallus. “The other names, save Allyssa, are people that we have already taken into custody. One in each of the significant towns of Tongra: Eberdeen, Juniper, Bacrothen, Reignsburg, Partuss, and Classo.”

Rhema finished Ischarus’ thought for him. “That leaves Allyssa as the final piece to the puzzle.”

A dark smile passed across Semeion’s face. “I know my kind, as painful as that may be for me to admit from time to time. Think about it. What hole recently developed in the wizard’s plan? What’s missing from the list that Ischarus just gave us?”

Ischarus and Rhema both immediately understood Semeion assertion. Ischarus spoke first. “Fingerdale.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Fingerdale. Our backyard.”

Semeion smiled. “Yep, we removed Ophee from his plan. There would need to be a substitute.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 20, 2007)

The discussion about the list broke up, and the rest of the searching party was told of the discovery.  The Wizard’s College guards left the wizard’s chamber in order to seek out the three who had been working as assistants.  Brandt, Master Searthu, Ophee, and the rest of the party continued to search while Pahk, Thealle, and Skuundar were found.

Several hours passed by, and as time passed on Brandt became especially confident that the Wizard’s College guards were performing their own version of interrogation upon the trio before they would be brought back for Master Searthu and Brandt to examine.  When anyone did return, it was only Mallus who escorted two people into the wizard’s chamber.

Mallus spoke with a heavy tone.  “I present Thealle and Skuundar to you for your interrogation and potential detoxification, if they need it.  They have submitted to your inquiry voluntarily, so we ask that you treat them accordingly.  It turns out that I have been appointed to be the neutral observer to oversee the interrogation and potential detoxification.  I don’t mind telling you up front that the administration of the Wizard’s College is expecting a full report of your interrogation, including your methodology.”

Brandt nodded.  “To be expected, of course.”

Master Searthu looked to Brandt and then looked back to Thealle and Skuundar.  “We could make this quicker if we each take one.”

Mallus was quick to interrupt the potential strategy.  “I would like to remind each of you that there is only one representative present, and that is me.  You may interrogate them together or separately, I do not care.  But you may not interrogate them separately at the same time.”

Master Searthu smiled slightly, although it was not an appreciative smile.  “Very well.  We will interrogate them together since they have come voluntarily.”

Ischarus toss a bit of a look of confusion in Mallus’ direction.  “What of the goblin, or Dolos, as you call it?  Was his name Pahk?  Where is he?”

Mallus grimaced and nodded silently.  “Pahk has yet to be found.”  Mallus’ tone indicated that this answer was as much as the party was going to be told, and there was a hint of pain in having to reveal even that much.

Brandt smiled as if he were struck suddenly by an idea that he liked.  “I think now is just about as good of a time as any to begin the interrogation.  Please have a seat.”

Brandt opened his shoulders to the rest of the room and made a sweeping gesture towards the furniture that the wizard had once offered to the party while he explained the need to go to Quehalost.  If the interrogation was to be civil, Brandt knew that allowing Thealle and Skundar the ability to rest comfortably would go a long way in developing lines of honest communication.

As Thealle, Skuundar, and Mallus moved to the chairs and couches, Semeion made eye contact with Thealle.  She was elven, and her thin features spoke of a graceful individual.  “May I get you some tea?  I am sure the wizard has a supply around here somewhere.”  Ophee nearly choked upon hearing the question, but a quick glance from Charis caused her to hold her tongue.

Thealle’s face recoiled in an instinctual repulsion.  “No, I have had plenty of tea here, enough to last me a lifetime.”

Brandt caught Semeion’s eyes.  They both knew what Thealle said.  She knew about the Arum Dracunculus.  Either she had already been interrogated or she had been in on the wizard’s plan from the very beginning.  Either way, caution would be needed when dealing with Thealle.

Semeion then turned to Mallus and Skuundar.  “Very well.  Would either of you like a cup of tea?”

Mallus was quick to reply.  “I was recently refreshed, I think I’ll pass.”

Skuundar was much less quick.  He was legitimately considering the offer.  “While tea does sound appealing, I was wondering if I could ask for a mug of coffee instead.  The bitterness of the coffee sounds more appealing to me today than the mildness of the tea.”

Brandt frowned with the dwarf’s answer.  Thealle had given them something to go on, but it was impossible to tell if the dwarf was cunningly avoiding Semeion’s initial probing or if he was innocently suggesting an alternative to the Arum Dracunculus without even knowing what he was doing.  Of course, Brandt was not at all surprised with either conclusion.  Most true dwarves were naturally cunning, although noble and fair.

Master Searthu waited for Semeion to nod before sitting down in a chair opposite to the couch where Skuundar and Thealle had chosen to sit.  “Just so that we understand, could you tell us what exactly each of you did for the former occupant of this residence?”

Thealle nodded, although her face seemed to sour as she formulated her response.  “I first met the wizard in my first year here at the college.  He was giving instruction to myself and a few other first year hopefuls about how to study plants and animals for innate magic qualities.  During my time in the instruction, I found that I not only had a love for that kind of discovery style work, but also a knack for success.  The wizard took notice of me and asked if I would enjoy private lessons in exchange for services.”

As she spoke the words, she made eye contact with Ischarus.  She noticed the slight smirk appear on his face.  “I assure you, it was a completely professional arrangement.  For the last several years I have met with the wizard once a week to learn some tricks of the trade that aren’t part of the official curriculum.  In exchange, he offered me tea while outlining several plants or animals that he wanted me to study over the course of the following week.  It was a fair exchange in that through the arrangement I have consistently managed to stay ahead of my peers in development while honing my research skills.  In addition, I have made a name for myself within the community of the Wizard’s College.”

Rhema nodded with Thealle’s conclusion.  “It would seem to be quite an arrangement for your benefit, Thealle.  Can I be safe in assuming that you would enter into the arrangement again if you were given the chance to go back in time and do it again?”

Thealle looked to Rhema and her eyes softened.  She seemed appreciative of hearing another woman’s voice.  “In the world of magic, one must often be willing to make choices and sacrifices for advancement.  The power of magic is just as much your friend as enemy.  To not advance implies falling behind.  The trick for me has been learning how to advance in power and willingly make sacrifices without sacrificing one’s integrity.  To be able to make scrupulous decisions when there are so many variables to the study of magic is difficult.  I have learned that reliability and power are seldom partners.  While that is a difficult lesson to learn, it is indeed a valuable lesson to learn.”

Her words were spoken as if they were chosen very carefully, but they didn’t seem to make coherent sense as an answer to Rhema’s question.  Before Rhema could respond, Brandt moved on to questioning the dwarf.  He had a satisfied look upon his face.  “And what of you, Skuundar?  What has been your role in regard to the former occupant of this room?”

The dwarf glanced to Mallus to look for reassurance.  Once Mallus nodded to Skuundar, the dwarf turned and looked back to Brandt.  “Begging your pardon, sir, but I have not had dealings with this wizard.  I don’t know why people keep trying to tie me to this wizard, but we’ve never met.  Well, I should say that we’ve never met officially, to my knowledge.”

Charis leaned into Ischarus and whispered in his ear.  “Do you think Brandt was right, then?  It sounds like he’s been down this path before.  I think he was already asked this question by the Wizard’s College.”

Master Searthu leaned forward in his chair and looked at the dwarf.  “Do you have any objection to my casting of a passive spell?  The spell won’t have any effect on you, just my ability to see you.”

The dwarf shrugged his shoulders.  “So long as Mallus doesn’t object to magic being cast, it doesn’t bother me any.”

Mallus waved Master Searthu off before he could ask.  Mallus knew what Master Searthu was planning and he saw no reason to bar the magic.  Master Searthu nodded and spoke the words softly.  “Thizzle Soothe.”  Semeion smiled as he heard the words of the common spell.

Master Searthu studied the dwarf for several seconds and then leaned over to Brandt as if to have a side conversation.  “I don’t see any evidence of an aura.”  He waited until Brandt looked at his eyes and then he shifted his eyes in a direction just to the left of Thealle for several seconds.  “Feel free to continue.”

Brandt smiled at his associate before leaning back in his chair.  Master Searthu had confirmed for him that Thealle and Skuundar were not under the influence of magic at the moment.  Their answers were either true or intentional lies.  But either way, their answers were their own.  “Skuundar, have you ever heard of a plant called Arum Dracunculus?”

The dwarf smiled as Semeion placed the now brewed cup of coffee in front of him.  “If it doesn’t grow below ground, then probably not.  I don’t care much for fields and the like.  I’d rather be spelunking.”  He sipped the beverage and returned the coffee to the coffee table in front of the couch.

The party chuckled at Skuundar’s verbal confirmation that he was one hundred percent true dwarf.  Brandt continued the explanation.  “The Arum Dracunculus is a plant that can have an extract taken out of its roots.  That extract can then be administered to a person in a beverage or a piece of uncooked food like candy or many party appetizers.  Once the substance is consumed, the mind becomes quite pliable.”

The dwarf had been stroking his beard while Brandt explained the Arum Dracunculus.  When Brandt spoke of the mind becoming pliable, Skuundar stopped playing with his braided facial hair.  “But, that’s completely improbable.  Everyone knows that dwarves are resistant to magic.  That’s why you don’t see many dwarves in the college with me!”

Charis smiled and made eye contact with the dwarf.  “It’s not magic, Skuundar.  It’s like a mind toxin.  It works by being added to food or drinks.”

The dwarf’s mind had been trying to understand the strange line of question when a thought suddenly popped into his mind.  He turned to Semeion with a look of anger on his face.  “Tea?  My own coffee?  Is that what you plan to do to me?  You want to poison my mind and make me talk?  Do you think that if you poison my mind that I would tell you anything, even if I do not know it?”

Semeion held up a reassuring hand.  “Don’t worry, I didn’t give you any.  But the demonstration is quite reasonable, don’t you agree?  Had I wanted you to be under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus, you would already be in the palm of my hand.  Your mind would already be pliable without your consent.  The fact that you are wary at this very moment is proof that nothing has been done to you.”

The dwarf leaned into the back of the couch.  He knew the truth.  He had met the wizard, but on the wizard’s own terms.  He had been used without even realizing the role that he was playing.

Master Searthu stood and turned to Mallus.  “I am satisfied.  I can cast a spell that will immediately cease any residual effect of the Arum Dracunculus if they are under such an effect.  I would guess that at least one of these two would benefit from the spell.”

Mallus nodded.  “Heal them.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The discussion about the list broke up, and the rest of the searching party was told of the discovery. The Wizard’s College guards left the wizard’s chamber in order to seek out the three who had been working as assistants. Brandt, Master Searthu, Ophee, and the rest of the party continued to search while Pahk, Thealle, and Skuundar were found.

Several hours passed by, and as time passed on Brandt became especially confident that the Wizard’s College guards were performing their own version of interrogation upon the trio before they would be brought back for Master Searthu and Brandt to examine. When anyone did return, it was only Mallus who escorted two people into the wizard’s chamber.

Mallus spoke with a heavy tone. “I present Thealle and Skuundar to you for your interrogation and potential detoxification, if they need it. They have submitted to your inquiry voluntarily, so we ask that you treat them accordingly. It turns out that I have been appointed to be the neutral observer to oversee the interrogation and potential detoxification. I don’t mind telling you up front that the administration of the Wizard’s College is expecting a full report of your interrogation, including your methodology.”

Brandt nodded. “To be expected, of course.”

Master Searthu looked to Brandt and then looked back to Thealle and Skuundar. “We could make this quicker if we each take one.”

Mallus was quick to interrupt the potential strategy. “I would like to remind each of you that there is only one representative present, and that is me. You may interrogate them together or separately, I do not care. But you may not interrogate them separately at the same time.”

Master Searthu smiled slightly, although it was not an appreciative smile. “Very well. We will interrogate them together since they have come voluntarily.”

Ischarus toss a bit of a look of confusion in Mallus’ direction. “What of the goblin, or Dolos, as you call it? Was his name Pahk? Where is he?”

Mallus grimaced and nodded silently. “Pahk has yet to be found.” Mallus’ tone indicated that this answer was as much as the party was going to be told, and there was a hint of pain in having to reveal even that much.

Brandt smiled as if he were struck suddenly by an idea that he liked. “I think now is just about as good of a time as any to begin the interrogation. Please have a seat.”

Brandt opened his shoulders to the rest of the room and made a sweeping gesture towards the furniture that the wizard had once offered to the party while he explained the need to go to Quehalost. If the interrogation was to be civil, Brandt knew that allowing Thealle and Skundar the ability to rest comfortably would go a long way in developing lines of honest communication.

As Thealle, Skuundar, and Mallus moved to the chairs and couches, Semeion made eye contact with Thealle. She was elven, and her thin features spoke of a graceful individual. “May I get you some tea? I am sure the wizard has a supply around here somewhere.” Ophee nearly choked upon hearing the question, but a quick glance from Charis caused her to hold her tongue.

Thealle’s face recoiled in an instinctual repulsion. “No, I have had plenty of tea here, enough to last me a lifetime.”

Brandt caught Semeion’s eyes. They both knew what Thealle said. She knew about the Arum Dracunculus. Either she had already been interrogated or she had been in on the wizard’s plan from the very beginning. Either way, caution would be needed when dealing with Thealle.

Semeion then turned to Mallus and Skuundar. “Very well. Would either of you like a cup of tea?”

Mallus was quick to reply. “I was recently refreshed, I think I’ll pass.”

Skuundar was much less quick. He was legitimately considering the offer. “While tea does sound appealing, I was wondering if I could ask for a mug of coffee instead. The bitterness of the coffee sounds more appealing to me today than the mildness of the tea.”

Brandt frowned with the dwarf’s answer. Thealle had given them something to go on, but it was impossible to tell if the dwarf was cunningly avoiding Semeion’s initial probing or if he was innocently suggesting an alternative to the Arum Dracunculus without even knowing what he was doing. Of course, Brandt was not at all surprised with either conclusion. Most true dwarves were naturally cunning, although noble and fair.

Master Searthu waited for Semeion to nod before sitting down in a chair opposite to the couch where Skuundar and Thealle had chosen to sit. “Just so that we understand, could you tell us what exactly each of you did for the former occupant of this residence?”

Thealle nodded, although her face seemed to sour as she formulated her response. “I first met the wizard in my first year here at the college. He was giving instruction to myself and a few other first year hopefuls about how to study plants and animals for innate magic qualities. During my time in the instruction, I found that I not only had a love for that kind of discovery style work, but also a knack for success. The wizard took notice of me and asked if I would enjoy private lessons in exchange for services.”

As she spoke the words, she made eye contact with Ischarus. She noticed the slight smirk appear on his face. “I assure you, it was a completely professional arrangement. For the last several years I have met with the wizard once a week to learn some tricks of the trade that aren’t part of the official curriculum. In exchange, he offered me tea while outlining several plants or animals that he wanted me to study over the course of the following week. It was a fair exchange in that through the arrangement I have consistently managed to stay ahead of my peers in development while honing my research skills. In addition, I have made a name for myself within the community of the Wizard’s College.”

Rhema nodded with Thealle’s conclusion. “It would seem to be quite an arrangement for your benefit, Thealle. Can I be safe in assuming that you would enter into the arrangement again if you were given the chance to go back in time and do it again?”

Thealle looked to Rhema and her eyes softened. She seemed appreciative of hearing another woman’s voice. “In the world of magic, one must often be willing to make choices and sacrifices for advancement. The power of magic is just as much your friend as enemy. To not advance implies falling behind. The trick for me has been learning how to advance in power and willingly make sacrifices without sacrificing one’s integrity. To be able to make scrupulous decisions when there are so many variables to the study of magic is difficult. I have learned that reliability and power are seldom partners. While that is a difficult lesson to learn, it is indeed a valuable lesson to learn.”

Her words were spoken as if they were chosen very carefully, but they didn’t seem to make coherent sense as an answer to Rhema’s question. Before Rhema could respond, Brandt moved on to questioning the dwarf. He had a satisfied look upon his face. “And what of you, Skuundar? What has been your role in regard to the former occupant of this room?”

The dwarf glanced to Mallus to look for reassurance. Once Mallus nodded to Skuundar, the dwarf turned and looked back to Brandt. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I have not had dealings with this wizard. I don’t know why people keep trying to tie me to this wizard, but we’ve never met. Well, I should say that we’ve never met officially, to my knowledge.”

Charis leaned into Ischarus and whispered in his ear. “Do you think Brandt was right, then? It sounds like he’s been down this path before. I think he was already asked this question by the Wizard’s College.”

Master Searthu leaned forward in his chair and looked at the dwarf. “Do you have any objection to my casting of a passive spell? The spell won’t have any effect on you, just my ability to see you.”

The dwarf shrugged his shoulders. “So long as Mallus doesn’t object to magic being cast, it doesn’t bother me any.”

Mallus waved Master Searthu off before he could ask. Mallus knew what Master Searthu was planning and he saw no reason to bar the magic. Master Searthu nodded and spoke the words softly. “Thizzle Soothe.” Semeion smiled as he heard the words of the common spell.

Master Searthu studied the dwarf for several seconds and then leaned over to Brandt as if to have a side conversation. “I don’t see any evidence of an aura.” He waited until Brandt looked at his eyes and then he shifted his eyes in a direction just to the left of Thealle for several seconds. “Feel free to continue.”

Brandt smiled at his associate before leaning back in his chair. Master Searthu had confirmed for him that Thealle and Skuundar were not under the influence of magic at the moment. Their answers were either true or intentional lies. But either way, their answers were their own. “Skuundar, have you ever heard of a plant called Arum Dracunculus?”

The dwarf smiled as Semeion placed the now brewed cup of coffee in front of him. “If it doesn’t grow below ground, then probably not. I don’t care much for fields and the like. I’d rather be spelunking.” He sipped the beverage and returned the coffee to the coffee table in front of the couch.

The party chuckled at Skuundar’s verbal confirmation that he was one hundred percent true dwarf. Brandt continued the explanation. “The Arum Dracunculus is a plant that can have an extract taken out of its roots. That extract can then be administered to a person in a beverage or a piece of uncooked food like candy or many party appetizers. Once the substance is consumed, the mind becomes quite pliable.”

The dwarf had been stroking his beard while Brandt explained the Arum Dracunculus. When Brandt spoke of the mind becoming pliable, Skuundar stopped playing with his braided facial hair. “But, that’s completely improbable. Everyone knows that dwarves are resistant to magic. That’s why you don’t see many dwarves in the college with me!”

Charis smiled and made eye contact with the dwarf. “It’s not magic, Skuundar. It’s like a mind toxin. It works by being added to food or drinks.”

The dwarf’s mind had been trying to understand the strange line of question when a thought suddenly popped into his mind. He turned to Semeion with a look of anger on his face. “Tea? My own coffee? Is that what you plan to do to me? You want to poison my mind and make me talk? Do you think that if you poison my mind that I would tell you anything, even if I do not know it?”

Semeion held up a reassuring hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t give you any. But the demonstration is quite reasonable, don’t you agree? Had I wanted you to be under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus, you would already be in the palm of my hand. Your mind would already be pliable without your consent. The fact that you are wary at this very moment is proof that nothing has been done to you.”

The dwarf leaned into the back of the couch. He knew the truth. He had met the wizard, but on the wizard’s own terms. He had been used without even realizing the role that he was playing.

Master Searthu stood and turned to Mallus. “I am satisfied. I can cast a spell that will immediately cease any residual effect of the Arum Dracunculus if they are under such an effect. I would guess that at least one of these two would benefit from the spell.”

Mallus nodded. “Heal them.”

[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Jul 22, 2007)

Master Searthu stepped forward and complied with Mallus’ request.  He reached into a tube fastened to his waist and removed two pieces of paper.  There were words written on the paper that he had prepared earlier in his office.  “Kashan Umaam Diast.”

As his associate waved his hands over Thealle and Skuundar, Brandt smiled and nodded.  “My associate’s magic will remove the compulsion caused by the Arum Dracunculus, if any residual effect remained.  However, their recovery will be long.  They will need to be told of what happened and encouraged to try and get at any residual memories that might have been implanted.  The compulsions are no longer present, and with the wizard now dead they’ll not be revived.  But subconscious memories might still linger behind.  These should be explored and dealt with, as we have done with Opheiluka.”

Mallus nodded and listened as Ischarus continued the discussion.  “Is it safe to assume that we will not be seeing Pahk today?  Since you were searching for several hours without finding the little guy, are we to assume that we’ll never get a chance to speak to him?”

Mallus smiled, obviously amused by Ischarus’ inquiry.  “Pahk is an interesting creature.  He is more resourceful than one might expect.  And there is no telling just how much he learned from his master wizard.  He didn’t let on that he knew much at all, but he may have surprised us.  At the very least, we are convinced that he was taught how to hide from magical detection.  Unless he’s dead, we should have been able to locate him by now.  At the very least, it goes to show that magic cannot be used to solve all problems.  It also goes to show that even those with a small amount of magical knowledge can be quite formidable so long as the knowledge that they do know is useful.”

Ischarus couldn’t help but conclude that there was more to the story than they were being told, but he also knew that a wizard within the Wizard’s College would not reveal more than they were willing to reveal.  The whole truth would have to wait, if they learned it at all.

Ophee looked to Thealle and Skuundar with a sympathetic glance.  “Don’t worry, you weren’t the only ones to be used by the wizard.”

Charis smiled and rested a hand upon Ophee’s shoulder.  “Nope, that’s for sure.  You’re among a long list of people that the wizard used.  Some were used with their knowledge and consent.  Some were used without their knowledge but still with their consent, like us for example.  Others were used without their knowledge and without their consent.  This wizard was a remarkable soul, and he almost succeeded.  But don’t be too hard on yourselves for being used.  You’re in good company on those terms.”

Mallus spoke, relieving Thealle and Skuundar of the ability to reply to Charis.  “The wizard had many of us fooled.  Even still, there are no doubt consequences from what happened in this place.  Every action that we take has consequences in the lives of those around us.  We cannot escape the fact that our actions affect other people whether we intend it or not.  From those to whom little is given, little is expected.  From those to whom much is given, much is expected.  The gift of magic is significant; and the world, much less the Wizard’s College, expects much from those of us who wield magic.”

Thealle and Skuundar took their cue from Mallus and stood up from the couch.  Thealle spoke first.  “I am ready to await my hearing.”

Skuundar nodded in agreement.  “If I was under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus, I will accept the ruling of the administration.”

Mallus dismissed the Skuundar and Thealle.  “Your hearing will take place at a later time.  Until you are summoned, consider yourselves confined to your personal quarters.  You are dismissed.”

Thealle and Skuundar walked out of the room without a word.  Mallus watched them leave, knowing that their punishment would not be as severe as they were imagining that it would be.  The transgression had been the wizard’s.  Skuundar had no recollection of aiding the wizard, and Thealle’s assistance was clearly not completely of her own choosing.  However, by Thealle’s own admission she did not regret the learning and elevation of status that she received for her participation.  Her punishment would be more severe than Skuundar’s.

When Skuundar and Thealle had closed the door behind them, Mallus turned back to the party.  “You should consider yourselves lucky that you are not under the jurisdiction of the Wizard’s College.  The fact that the four of you traveled to Quehalost willingly and returned with a harmful substance would not sit well with our administration.  Ignorance is no excuse for the danger that you four introduced into our land.  However, since you are not under our jurisdiction we cannot restrain you and keep you here.  We hope that your conscious weighs heavily and like Thealle and Skuundar you will learn your lesson so we do not need to fear you repeating it.”

Mallus’ voice had taken the tone of a disciplinarian.  Of course, he was part of the Wizard’s College guard, so discipline would be part of his duty.  Semeion, Ischarus, and Rhema hung their head as Mallus spoke.  

Instead of hanging her head, Charis replied to Mallus’ insinuation.  “I would suppose that it is a matter of interpretation, then.  I have seen my three associates do far more good than evil.  They have saved countless lives from evil, including being the force that foiled this threat here.  Yes, we were fooled by the wizard and brought a portion of Arum Dracunculus to him.  And we have learned the importance of investigating the possible outcomes from accomplishing tasks that we know little about.  But if the wizard’s influences had been checked before he could impact the world outside of the Wizard’s College, we wouldn’t have been in the position in which we were placed.  I cannot deny that we made a mistake, but we have corrected that mistake as best we could.”

Semeion smiled as his wife spoke and interjected a statement into the middle of her speech.  “And we are not yet done.  We will find this Allyssa and stop her assignment as well.”

Charis grinned as she paused to let her husband speak.  She was glad that he had been brought out of the guilt that Mallus had placed her associates under.  When he finished, she continued.  “While we have learned our lesson, it is my hope that the Wizard’s College has likewise learned yours.”

Brandt spoke quickly.  He approved of Charis’ words, but knew that they would likely only refuel the argument from earlier in the day.  It was clear that the party and the Wizard’s College were at odds in how they looked at the world and duty.  “And I do believe that it is time for us to leave, unless you have a reason for us to stay in your presence longer, Mallus.”

Mallus was quick to offer up no resistance to Brandt’s assertion.  “You are free to leave.  The magical barrier will not prevent you from teleporting away from the Wizard’s College.  Remember, though, that once you leave you have already promised to adhere to the proper regulations for reentering.”

The seven wasted no time leaving the Wizard’s College.  Brandt took Ophee with him, and the rest used spells or a ring to return them to the temple in Fingerdale.  The spells had brought them back to Master Searthu’s office.  It was a relief to see the symbol of justice that marked Reah’s territory hanging upon the wall.

Rhema sighed.  “I never imagined that seeing the symbols of justice would feel so welcoming.”

Brandt smiled and nodded in appreciation.  “Reah can be a difficult master to serve, but she is always welcoming.  Even the guilty are welcomed onto a path of repentance.”

In their own way, each of the party found warmth in Brandt’s words.  He had offered up a sentiment almost opposite to the implications of Mallus.  Here they were welcomed, even as often as they had made mistakes in the past.

Semeion turned to the two priests of Reah.  “If we’re going to find this Allyssa, don’t you think we should try and find out a little more about that succubus?  I didn’t expect the Wizard’s College to offer up any information, and I didn’t come across anything while looking through the wizard’s residence.”

Rhema nodded in agreement.  “If nothing else, I would like to learn more about her in case we see her again.”

Ophee had a sour look on her face as Semeion and Rhema spoke of the demonic woman.  “Personally, I’d rather just avoid her in the future.  Once was already too often.”

Ischarus allowed his left fingers to run along the hilt of his sword as it hung at his side.  “I think a little research is a fine idea.  I know that I’ve got a score to settle with her, anyway.  I hope I do see her again, and next time I’d like to know a little more about what she is and how to stop her more permanently.”

Brandt nodded, feeling the party straying away from the task of finding Allyssa.  “And what of Ophee’s replacement?”

Charis smirked, knowing that Brandt was trying to refocus them.  “We don’t even know if Allyssa is here in Fingerdale, Brandt.  It is a good guess, but it is only a guess.  Besides, the day is getting late and soon it will be too difficult to search for her anyway.  If we take advantage of the library here in the temple, we could research tonight and go out to find Allyssa tomorrow.  Besides, if we wait for tomorrow we’ll be more prepared to find her and be able to do something about it.”

Master Searthu smiled, and Brandt grinned at his fellow priest.  “I know, they make a strong argument.  They aren’t as helpless as they would have the world believe.”  He stepped towards the door leading out of Master Searthu’s office.  “Come, then.  I’ll show you to the library and set you loose upon the histories contained with its walls.  But I will not be joining you.  I’ll spend the rest of this evening trying to find Allyssa’s location.  Perhaps by dividing our efforts we can accomplish the necessary task at hand even quicker.”  He led the party out of Master Searthu’s office.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Master Searthu stepped forward and complied with Mallus’ request. He reached into a tube fastened to his waist and removed two pieces of paper. There were words written on the paper that he had prepared earlier in his office. “Kashan Umaam Diast.”

As his associate waved his hands over Thealle and Skuundar, Brandt smiled and nodded. “My associate’s magic will remove the compulsion caused by the Arum Dracunculus, if any residual effect remained. However, their recovery will be long. They will need to be told of what happened and encouraged to try and get at any residual memories that might have been implanted. The compulsions are no longer present, and with the wizard now dead they’ll not be revived. But subconscious memories might still linger behind. These should be explored and dealt with, as we have done with Opheiluka.”

Mallus nodded and listened as Ischarus continued the discussion. “Is it safe to assume that we will not be seeing Pahk today? Since you were searching for several hours without finding the little guy, are we to assume that we’ll never get a chance to speak to him?”

Mallus smiled, obviously amused by Ischarus’ inquiry. “Pahk is an interesting creature. He is more resourceful than one might expect. And there is no telling just how much he learned from his master wizard. He didn’t let on that he knew much at all, but he may have surprised us. At the very least, we are convinced that he was taught how to hide from magical detection. Unless he’s dead, we should have been able to locate him by now. At the very least, it goes to show that magic cannot be used to solve all problems. It also goes to show that even those with a small amount of magical knowledge can be quite formidable so long as the knowledge that they do know is useful.”

Ischarus couldn’t help but conclude that there was more to the story than they were being told, but he also knew that a wizard within the Wizard’s College would not reveal more than they were willing to reveal. The whole truth would have to wait, if they learned it at all.

Ophee looked to Thealle and Skuundar with a sympathetic glance. “Don’t worry, you weren’t the only ones to be used by the wizard.”

Charis smiled and rested a hand upon Ophee’s shoulder. “Nope, that’s for sure. You’re among a long list of people that the wizard used. Some were used with their knowledge and consent. Some were used without their knowledge but still with their consent, like us for example. Others were used without their knowledge and without their consent. This wizard was a remarkable soul, and he almost succeeded. But don’t be too hard on yourselves for being used. You’re in good company on those terms.”

Mallus spoke, relieving Thealle and Skuundar of the ability to reply to Charis. “The wizard had many of us fooled. Even still, there are no doubt consequences from what happened in this place. Every action that we take has consequences in the lives of those around us. We cannot escape the fact that our actions affect other people whether we intend it or not. From those to whom little is given, little is expected. From those to whom much is given, much is expected. The gift of magic is significant; and the world, much less the Wizard’s College, expects much from those of us who wield magic.”

Thealle and Skuundar took their cue from Mallus and stood up from the couch. Thealle spoke first. “I am ready to await my hearing.”

Skuundar nodded in agreement. “If I was under the effect of the Arum Dracunculus, I will accept the ruling of the administration.”

Mallus dismissed the Skuundar and Thealle. “Your hearing will take place at a later time. Until you are summoned, consider yourselves confined to your personal quarters. You are dismissed.”

Thealle and Skuundar walked out of the room without a word. Mallus watched them leave, knowing that their punishment would not be as severe as they were imagining that it would be. The transgression had been the wizard’s. Skuundar had no recollection of aiding the wizard, and Thealle’s assistance was clearly not completely of her own choosing. However, by Thealle’s own admission she did not regret the learning and elevation of status that she received for her participation. Her punishment would be more severe than Skuundar’s.

When Skuundar and Thealle had closed the door behind them, Mallus turned back to the party. “You should consider yourselves lucky that you are not under the jurisdiction of the Wizard’s College. The fact that the four of you traveled to Quehalost willingly and returned with a harmful substance would not sit well with our administration. Ignorance is no excuse for the danger that you four introduced into our land. However, since you are not under our jurisdiction we cannot restrain you and keep you here. We hope that your conscious weighs heavily and like Thealle and Skuundar you will learn your lesson so we do not need to fear you repeating it.”

Mallus’ voice had taken the tone of a disciplinarian. Of course, he was part of the Wizard’s College guard, so discipline would be part of his duty. Semeion, Ischarus, and Rhema hung their head as Mallus spoke. 

Instead of hanging her head, Charis replied to Mallus’ insinuation. “I would suppose that it is a matter of interpretation, then. I have seen my three associates do far more good than evil. They have saved countless lives from evil, including being the force that foiled this threat here. Yes, we were fooled by the wizard and brought a portion of Arum Dracunculus to him. And we have learned the importance of investigating the possible outcomes from accomplishing tasks that we know little about. But if the wizard’s influences had been checked before he could impact the world outside of the Wizard’s College, we wouldn’t have been in the position in which we were placed. I cannot deny that we made a mistake, but we have corrected that mistake as best we could.”

Semeion smiled as his wife spoke and interjected a statement into the middle of her speech. “And we are not yet done. We will find this Allyssa and stop her assignment as well.”

Charis grinned as she paused to let her husband speak. She was glad that he had been brought out of the guilt that Mallus had placed her associates under. When he finished, she continued. “While we have learned our lesson, it is my hope that the Wizard’s College has likewise learned yours.”

Brandt spoke quickly. He approved of Charis’ words, but knew that they would likely only refuel the argument from earlier in the day. It was clear that the party and the Wizard’s College were at odds in how they looked at the world and duty. “And I do believe that it is time for us to leave, unless you have a reason for us to stay in your presence longer, Mallus.”

Mallus was quick to offer up no resistance to Brandt’s assertion. “You are free to leave. The magical barrier will not prevent you from teleporting away from the Wizard’s College. Remember, though, that once you leave you have already promised to adhere to the proper regulations for reentering.”

The seven wasted no time leaving the Wizard’s College. Brandt took Ophee with him, and the rest used spells or a ring to return them to the temple in Fingerdale. The spells had brought them back to Master Searthu’s office. It was a relief to see the symbol of justice that marked Reah’s territory hanging upon the wall.

Rhema sighed. “I never imagined that seeing the symbols of justice would feel so welcoming.”

Brandt smiled and nodded in appreciation. “Reah can be a difficult master to serve, but she is always welcoming. Even the guilty are welcomed onto a path of repentance.”

In their own way, each of the party found warmth in Brandt’s words. He had offered up a sentiment almost opposite to the implications of Mallus. Here they were welcomed, even as often as they had made mistakes in the past.

Semeion turned to the two priests of Reah. “If we’re going to find this Allyssa, don’t you think we should try and find out a little more about that succubus? I didn’t expect the Wizard’s College to offer up any information, and I didn’t come across anything while looking through the wizard’s residence.”

Rhema nodded in agreement. “If nothing else, I would like to learn more about her in case we see her again.”

Ophee had a sour look on her face as Semeion and Rhema spoke of the demonic woman. “Personally, I’d rather just avoid her in the future. Once was already too often.”

Ischarus allowed his left fingers to run along the hilt of his sword as it hung at his side. “I think a little research is a fine idea. I know that I’ve got a score to settle with her, anyway. I hope I do see her again, and next time I’d like to know a little more about what she is and how to stop her more permanently.”

Brandt nodded, feeling the party straying away from the task of finding Allyssa. “And what of Ophee’s replacement?”

Charis smirked, knowing that Brandt was trying to refocus them. “We don’t even know if Allyssa is here in Fingerdale, Brandt. It is a good guess, but it is only a guess. Besides, the day is getting late and soon it will be too difficult to search for her anyway. If we take advantage of the library here in the temple, we could research tonight and go out to find Allyssa tomorrow. Besides, if we wait for tomorrow we’ll be more prepared to find her and be able to do something about it.”

Master Searthu smiled, and Brandt grinned at his fellow priest. “I know, they make a strong argument. They aren’t as helpless as they would have the world believe.” He stepped towards the door leading out of Master Searthu’s office. “Come, then. I’ll show you to the library and set you loose upon the histories contained with its walls. But I will not be joining you. I’ll spend the rest of this evening trying to find Allyssa’s location. Perhaps by dividing our efforts we can accomplish the necessary task at hand even quicker.” He led the party out of Master Searthu’s office.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 29, 2007)

The party searched through the tomes of religious history for hours looking for any hint of mention of a succubus.  They had begun looking in the temple’s section of research specifically devoted to Yrraxea, her followers, and the rituals of Yrraxean worship.  However, due to the fact that Yrraxea was nearly the chief unholy antagonist against Reah there was a considerable amount of books that needed to be looked at.  In fact, it was Charis who first stumbled across a useful tome after several hour of serious searching.

Charis snapped the tome closed with her finger in the edge to mark the place that she had been researching.  When she looked up from the large volume on Yrraxean history she noticed that she had the attention of Semeion and Ophee.  They had been researching in the same aisle.  She smiled at the pair who was waiting curiously to hear what she had found.  “Ischarus and Rhema, can you hear me?”

Rhema and Ischarus had decided to start at the opposite end of books on Yrraxean history and work their way towards Semeion, Ophee, and Rhema.  As a result, they were in the aisle directly to Charis’ right.  Rhema replied to Charis’ inquiry.  “Loud and clear, Charis.  What have you found?”

Charis knew that they were the only people in the temple’s library by this late in the night, so there wasn’t much need to worry about keeping the peace of the library.  “I’ve found a book entitled _Darron’s Illustrated Guide to the Yrraxean Underlings_.  The date inside the front cover shows that the information compiled in the tome is centuries old, but it still seems feasibly true.  The author describes how he had been sent by what he calls the Dominant in Barghost.  He describes the Dominant as the head of the organized followers of Reah’s justice.  By Darron’s descriptions, that would make the Dominant the head administrator in the church.  I guess it would be parallel to some kind of high ranking bishop or something.”

Semeion nodded in agreement.  “That would make sense.  A religion founded upon the principles of justice that Reah commands would likely have some kind of organized hierarchy.  And from what I have learned from Ausaphaborishan and Llywessair, Barghost would be the likely place for such a person to reside.  As dark and in touch with the aspects of evil as Quehalost is, Barghost is equally in touch with the aspects of good and the deities that promote virtue in life.”

Ischarus spoke from the next aisle.  “That makes sense with my understanding of the situation as well.  From what I can gather, Tongra and Fenneress are often caught between Barghost and Quehalost.  The powers of good have sworn to influence the world only so much as to keep the balance against the powers of evil.  In other words, if good is ultimately going to triumph over evil, it will be at the hands of the people in the world, not the direct intervention of the divine powers.”

Charis listened carefully and continued speaking.  “And I think that really is the way it should be.  If any deity is attractive enough to follow, then the followers of that deity should be excited enough to promote the directed lifestyle and the tenets of the faith.  But, we digress.  The author of the book, who I am assuming is this follower of Reah named Darron, claims to have been asked by the Dominant to venture into Quehalost on some sort of fact finding mission.  He was sent to find the secret lairs where Yrraxea is strong in Quehalost and observe what he saw.  Apparently, he didn’t see any actual demonic summons, but he did manage to infiltrate and document several Yrraxean worship sites.  Given Yrraxea’s teachings towards avarice, the temples were not that difficult to find.  People who worship a deity that focuses on greed and materialism typically are more about flaunting what they have than hiding away in some secret hole.”

Charis paused for a breath and was glad that nobody took advantage of the silence in order to interrupt the recounting of her findings.  “Anyway, this Darron was able to covertly study the art and symbols that the Yrraxeans used in their worship and holy spaces.  He documented many of their images, especially those that he believed to be demonic and thus a rival to Reah and her court.  What is interesting is that Darron mentions depictions of a succubus on several accounts.  Apparently, this succubus is quite an interesting character.”

Ophee shuddered at the memory of what the succubus had done to her.  “Interesting is not the word I’d use.  But please, continue on with what you were saying.”

Charis tried to smile in a manner that comforted Ophee, but there was little that could be done to comfort the way that the succubus had taken advantage of Ophee.  “Apparently the succubus is noted for her ability to change appearances based upon the physical preferences of her next victim.  So, the art on this succubus is quite diverse.  But what is interesting is that this particular succubus is the only one mentioned in Darron’s writing.  This succubus is always given the same name: Ankh-Bahl.”

Semeion could’ve sworn that at the mention of her name a cold chill shot through the room.  “What makes you think that this is the right servant of Yrraxea?  I mean, just because the author only mentions one succubus doesn’t mean that we have the right one.  Who knows how many of them serve the Queen of Avarice.”

Charis understood Semeion’s skepticism.  “True, but listen to a few of the details.  Once you hear some of the stories about Ankh-Bahl, I think your tone might just change.  For example, the teachings of Yrraxea indicate that Ankh-Bahl was entrusted into Yrraxea’s service solely for the purpose of finding a way for Yrraxea to come into this world.  The preferred method that Yrraxea desires to use, and thus Ankh-Bahl is searching for, is to find a willing host and become channeled into the host.  In other words, the soul of the person within the body would be displaced; or at the very least put in a sort of spiritual coma while Yrraxea assumes control over the body and possesses it as her own.  That certainly sounds familiar, although we can be quite sure that the wizard was not possessed by Yrraxea herself.”

Semeion nodded, but it was Ischarus who took advantage of Charis’ pause.  “That does sound eerily familiar.  What else did you find out about this succubus that makes you think that we have the right one?”

Charis replied with confidence in her voice.  “It seems as though Ankh-Bahl is also some kind of demonic assassin.  Apparently her job was to find a way for this possession to initiate outside of Quehalost.  Yrraxea wanted her servant to find a way to make the possession outside of the dangers of the evil land.  Although a demon – or even a goddess – cannot be killed away from the celestial or damnable home, Yrraxea has a desire to take the world by surprise and storm.  She wants the world for her own domination, hence why she is called the Queen of Avarice.  But when she comes into this world she wants to do it right the first time so as to give nobody any warning.”

The rest of the party was busy assimilating the information that Charis was giving them.  When nobody took advantage of Charis’ pause, she continued her explanation of what she had learned from Darron’s writings.  “The fact that this Ankh-Bahl is some sort of demonic assassin implies ruthless behavior.  Darron was convinced that should Ankh-Bahl ever find a way into this world that she would be willing to use and then dispose of any forces of evil that she could find, especially those of other gods and goddesses.  Her goal was to use any means necessary while weakening any who oppose Yrraxea in the process.”

Ischarus called out as he rounded the corner and entered the row of bookshelves that held Ophee, Semeion, and Charis.  “Well, it certainly sounds feasible, that’s for sure.  The devil we banished was ruthless.”

Ophee agreed readily.  “And willing to resort to any means necessary I might add.”

Ischarus continued in his thought.  “If the succubus was indeed Ankh-Bahl, it would make sense that she should be found here in Tongra.  Or, I suppose Fenneress for that matter.  But if Darron’s history is any authority, it would appear that Yrraxea is actively trying to increase the range of her influence dramatically.  It doesn’t sound like Yrraxea is interested in the slow and steady growth through the spread of ideals.  It sounds to me that Yrraxea is the type of goddess to wait for a moment and then lash out in a strike in order to gain as much ground as possible in a quick amount of time.  To me, that sounds like what the succubus described to you all.”

Rhema had followed Ischarus around the corner to speak with her friends.  “Again, that would certainly make sense.  From what I have learned from my time around the dragons and around the temple, Quehalost is held by the powers of evil.  if Yrraxea were to begin in Quehalost, she’d have to begin her fight in Quehalost itself.  But if she could instead take Tongra or Fenneress by surprise, she could move quickly and amass resources and go back against Quehalost if she so desired.”

Charis smiled as she interrupted Rhema’s thought.  “And remember, most creation myths talk about how the Tongra-Quehalost and Fenneress-Quehalost Mountains were brought forth to contain the evil.  Many of the myths speak about how the evil could not be quenched from the land, so it was contained and set apart.  Granted they are only myths, but if there is any hint of truth to the myths, Yrraxea would gain substantial power should her influence extend beyond the mountains.  If she herself could be summoned into the land of Tongra, I don’t know what would happen.”

Rhema finished her thought once Charis had concluded.  “Granted, there have got to be small pockets of worshippers of evil throughout the land.  It’d even imagine there are miniscule pockets of Yrraxean worship in Barghost.  But there is no record of anything capable of accomplishing something to the magnitude that we are talking about here.  The gods and goddesses haven’t walked the ground with mortals in longer than even the dragons can remember.”

Semeion nodded in complete agreement.  “And that is a considerable amount of time.  The stories of the gods and their servants walking freely among the lands with mortals are so old that many of them are simply considered myths and nothing more.  I doubt anyone would even consider the possibility that Yrraxea still looks to be summoned and brought into a legitimate possession of a mortal here in Tongra.  That’s just not the way that we think anymore.”

Charis continued where Semeion left off.  “Needless to say, stopping this threat was no idle matter.  Most people won’t ever know what happened in the Wizard’s College today.  We all know that the Wizard’s College isn’t going to be upfront and honest about it, and they’ll deny anything that may be told.”

Rhema looked at the shelves around her.  “Well, we’ve got several more shelves of books to search for, although I’ll admit that the solution that Charis just stumbled on seems to really fit the possibility here.  The scary part is that if what Charis found is actually the correct reason, then we don’t know how the succubus managed to escape Quehalost.  Either there is a significant sect of Yrraxeans worshipping in Tongra that the wizard might have been connected to and thus was summoned directly, or Ankh-Bahl managed to work her way out of Quehalost and through the underground passages and into Tongra.  I don’t mind saying that neither possibility will make it any easier to sleep at night.”

Semeion looked back to the shelves.  “Well, let’s keep on looking.  We’ve got the rest of the night, and tomorrow we’re planning on heading out to finish our work by finding Allyssa.  Maybe we can find something else tonight.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party searched through the tomes of religious history for hours looking for any hint of mention of a succubus. They had begun looking in the temple’s section of research specifically devoted to Yrraxea, her followers, and the rituals of Yrraxean worship. However, due to the fact that Yrraxea was nearly the chief unholy antagonist against Reah there was a considerable amount of books that needed to be looked at. In fact, it was Charis who first stumbled across a useful tome after several hour of serious searching.

Charis snapped the tome closed with her finger in the edge to mark the place that she had been researching. When she looked up from the large volume on Yrraxean history she noticed that she had the attention of Semeion and Ophee. They had been researching in the same aisle. She smiled at the pair who was waiting curiously to hear what she had found. “Ischarus and Rhema, can you hear me?”

Rhema and Ischarus had decided to start at the opposite end of books on Yrraxean history and work their way towards Semeion, Ophee, and Rhema. As a result, they were in the aisle directly to Charis’ right. Rhema replied to Charis’ inquiry. “Loud and clear, Charis. What have you found?”

Charis knew that they were the only people in the temple’s library by this late in the night, so there wasn’t much need to worry about keeping the peace of the library. “I’ve found a book entitled _Darron’s Illustrated Guide to the Yrraxean Underlings._ The date inside the front cover shows that the information compiled in the tome is centuries old, but it still seems feasibly true. The author describes how he had been sent by what he calls the Dominant in Barghost. He describes the Dominant as the head of the organized followers of Reah’s justice. By Darron’s descriptions, that would make the Dominant the head administrator in the church. I guess it would be parallel to some kind of high ranking bishop or something.”

Semeion nodded in agreement. “That would make sense. A religion founded upon the principles of justice that Reah commands would likely have some kind of organized hierarchy. And from what I have learned from Ausaphaborishan and Llywessair, Barghost would be the likely place for such a person to reside. As dark and in touch with the aspects of evil as Quehalost is, Barghost is equally in touch with the aspects of good and the deities that promote virtue in life.”

Ischarus spoke from the next aisle. “That makes sense with my understanding of the situation as well. From what I can gather, Tongra and Fenneress are often caught between Barghost and Quehalost. The powers of good have sworn to influence the world only so much as to keep the balance against the powers of evil. In other words, if good is ultimately going to triumph over evil, it will be at the hands of the people in the world, not the direct intervention of the divine powers.”

Charis listened carefully and continued speaking. “And I think that really is the way it should be. If any deity is attractive enough to follow, then the followers of that deity should be excited enough to promote the directed lifestyle and the tenets of the faith. But, we digress. The author of the book, who I am assuming is this follower of Reah named Darron, claims to have been asked by the Dominant to venture into Quehalost on some sort of fact finding mission. He was sent to find the secret lairs where Yrraxea is strong in Quehalost and observe what he saw. Apparently, he didn’t see any actual demonic summons, but he did manage to infiltrate and document several Yrraxean worship sites. Given Yrraxea’s teachings towards avarice, the temples were not that difficult to find. People who worship a deity that focuses on greed and materialism typically are more about flaunting what they have than hiding away in some secret hole.”

Charis paused for a breath and was glad that nobody took advantage of the silence in order to interrupt the recounting of her findings. “Anyway, this Darron was able to covertly study the art and symbols that the Yrraxeans used in their worship and holy spaces. He documented many of their images, especially those that he believed to be demonic and thus a rival to Reah and her court. What is interesting is that Darron mentions depictions of a succubus on several accounts. Apparently, this succubus is quite an interesting character.”

Ophee shuddered at the memory of what the succubus had done to her. “Interesting is not the word I’d use. But please, continue on with what you were saying.”

Charis tried to smile in a manner that comforted Ophee, but there was little that could be done to comfort the way that the succubus had taken advantage of Ophee. “Apparently the succubus is noted for her ability to change appearances based upon the physical preferences of her next victim. So, the art on this succubus is quite diverse. But what is interesting is that this particular succubus is the only one mentioned in Darron’s writing. This succubus is always given the same name: Ankh-Bahl.”

Semeion could’ve sworn that at the mention of her name a cold chill shot through the room. “What makes you think that this is the right servant of Yrraxea? I mean, just because the author only mentions one succubus doesn’t mean that we have the right one. Who knows how many of them serve the Queen of Avarice.”

Charis understood Semeion’s skepticism. “True, but listen to a few of the details. Once you hear some of the stories about Ankh-Bahl, I think your tone might just change. For example, the teachings of Yrraxea indicate that Ankh-Bahl was entrusted into Yrraxea’s service solely for the purpose of finding a way for Yrraxea to come into this world. The preferred method that Yrraxea desires to use, and thus Ankh-Bahl is searching for, is to find a willing host and become channeled into the host. In other words, the soul of the person within the body would be displaced; or at the very least put in a sort of spiritual coma while Yrraxea assumes control over the body and possesses it as her own. That certainly sounds familiar, although we can be quite sure that the wizard was not possessed by Yrraxea herself.”

Semeion nodded, but it was Ischarus who took advantage of Charis’ pause. “That does sound eerily familiar. What else did you find out about this succubus that makes you think that we have the right one?”

Charis replied with confidence in her voice. “It seems as though Ankh-Bahl is also some kind of demonic assassin. Apparently her job was to find a way for this possession to initiate outside of Quehalost. Yrraxea wanted her servant to find a way to make the possession outside of the dangers of the evil land. Although a demon – or even a goddess – cannot be killed away from the celestial or damnable home, Yrraxea has a desire to take the world by surprise and storm. She wants the world for her own domination, hence why she is called the Queen of Avarice. But when she comes into this world she wants to do it right the first time so as to give nobody any warning.”

The rest of the party was busy assimilating the information that Charis was giving them. When nobody took advantage of Charis’ pause, she continued her explanation of what she had learned from Darron’s writings. “The fact that this Ankh-Bahl is some sort of demonic assassin implies ruthless behavior. Darron was convinced that should Ankh-Bahl ever find a way into this world that she would be willing to use and then dispose of any forces of evil that she could find, especially those of other gods and goddesses. Her goal was to use any means necessary while weakening any who oppose Yrraxea in the process.”

Ischarus called out as he rounded the corner and entered the row of bookshelves that held Ophee, Semeion, and Charis. “Well, it certainly sounds feasible, that’s for sure. The devil we banished was ruthless.”

Ophee agreed readily. “And willing to resort to any means necessary I might add.”

Ischarus continued in his thought. “If the succubus was indeed Ankh-Bahl, it would make sense that she should be found here in Tongra. Or, I suppose Fenneress for that matter. But if Darron’s history is any authority, it would appear that Yrraxea is actively trying to increase the range of her influence dramatically. It doesn’t sound like Yrraxea is interested in the slow and steady growth through the spread of ideals. It sounds to me that Yrraxea is the type of goddess to wait for a moment and then lash out in a strike in order to gain as much ground as possible in a quick amount of time. To me, that sounds like what the succubus described to you all.”

Rhema had followed Ischarus around the corner to speak with her friends. “Again, that would certainly make sense. From what I have learned from my time around the dragons and around the temple, Quehalost is held by the powers of evil. if Yrraxea were to begin in Quehalost, she’d have to begin her fight in Quehalost itself. But if she could instead take Tongra or Fenneress by surprise, she could move quickly and amass resources and go back against Quehalost if she so desired.”

Charis smiled as she interrupted Rhema’s thought. “And remember, most creation myths talk about how the Tongra-Quehalost and Fenneress-Quehalost Mountains were brought forth to contain the evil. Many of the myths speak about how the evil could not be quenched from the land, so it was contained and set apart. Granted they are only myths, but if there is any hint of truth to the myths, Yrraxea would gain substantial power should her influence extend beyond the mountains. If she herself could be summoned into the land of Tongra, I don’t know what would happen.”

Rhema finished her thought once Charis had concluded. “Granted, there have got to be small pockets of worshippers of evil throughout the land. It’d even imagine there are miniscule pockets of Yrraxean worship in Barghost. But there is no record of anything capable of accomplishing something to the magnitude that we are talking about here. The gods and goddesses haven’t walked the ground with mortals in longer than even the dragons can remember.”

Semeion nodded in complete agreement. “And that is a considerable amount of time. The stories of the gods and their servants walking freely among the lands with mortals are so old that many of them are simply considered myths and nothing more. I doubt anyone would even consider the possibility that Yrraxea still looks to be summoned and brought into a legitimate possession of a mortal here in Tongra. That’s just not the way that we think anymore.”

Charis continued where Semeion left off. “Needless to say, stopping this threat was no idle matter. Most people won’t ever know what happened in the Wizard’s College today. We all know that the Wizard’s College isn’t going to be upfront and honest about it, and they’ll deny anything that may be told.”

Rhema looked at the shelves around her. “Well, we’ve got several more shelves of books to search for, although I’ll admit that the solution that Charis just stumbled on seems to really fit the possibility here. The scary part is that if what Charis found is actually the correct reason, then we don’t know how the succubus managed to escape Quehalost. Either there is a significant sect of Yrraxeans worshipping in Tongra that the wizard might have been connected to and thus was summoned directly, or Ankh-Bahl managed to work her way out of Quehalost and through the underground passages and into Tongra. I don’t mind saying that neither possibility will make it any easier to sleep at night.”

Semeion looked back to the shelves. “Well, let’s keep on looking. We’ve got the rest of the night, and tomorrow we’re planning on heading out to finish our work by finding Allyssa. Maybe we can find something else tonight.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Jul 31, 2007)

*Chapter Twelve: FERRETING OUT THE WIZARD’S HOUND*

Brandt met up with the party the next morning.  The party hadn’t learned much else in the library the prior evening, and when they explained what they had found Brandt was in agreement that they may well have been battling Ankh-Bahl.  However, it was not the news of Ankh-Bahl that had the party in anticipation.  They wanted Allyssa and her location.

Once the party had finished explaining their research, Ischarus asked Brandt what news he had managed to discover.  “Any word of Allyssa’s location?”

Brandt slowly shook his head.  “No.  I tried everything of which I could possibly think.  I tried different appeals to Reah, but someone is hiding her location from me.  I tried several attempts to magically locate her, but without a description the magical spying sensors weren’t able to really focus on anyone in particular.  Apparently there are just too many people named Allyssa around here.  I even went back to Master Searthu, but he was unable to have any success.”

Semeion looked disappointed.  “There has got to be some way of finding her.  If only we had more information.  Doesn’t the temple have a collection of spell references?”

Brandt nodded in the affirmative, but his tone was clearly against Semeion’s thought.  “Magic is not always the answer, Semeion.  Sometimes, work must be done the old fashioned way.  Sometimes in order to find someone you just have to go out and do it.”

Ophee smiled.  “You all found me, remember?”

Semeion turned to Ophee and returned her smile, but his smile quickly turned into a look of rejection.  “Yes, but we found you because you really found us.  Your former master was watching us and knew where we were going to look.  So, he sent you there in order that we would find you.”

Charis listened to the conversation, but stared at the joint where the head of her pick had been joined with the handle.  When she needed to think, she would hold the pick’s handle in her hand and rotate it over and over.  She found that the rolling of the head helped her mind focus on something deeply.  “Wait a minute.  Maybe Ophee is still the answer.”

A look of horror flashed upon Ophee’s face.  “Oh, no.  I’m not Allyssa.  I might have been brainwashed to try and kill you under the guise of the Whetting One, but the magic mixed with the Arum Dracunculus has been removed from my system, remember?  And I have been with you all in this temple every moment from the barn until now.  There is no way I’m Allyssa.  I’m positive of it.”

Rhema chuckled at Ophee’s vehement argumentation.  Of course, she knew that Ophee still carried around a guilty conscience for what she had been tricked into doing for her former master.  Of course she would misinterpret Charis’ words.  “No, Ophee.  I don’t think Charis was trying to say that you were also Allyssa.  You’ve played your part out already, and we know that.  But you’re right.  Your brainwashing has been purged.”

Charis explained her thought a bit deeper once Rhema had comforted Ophee.  “Of course not, Ophee.  You’re not Allyssa.  But Allyssa was brought in to replace you.  Think about it.  The wizard paid for you to stay in Fingerdale.  He’s already got an apartment here that he rents.”

Ischarus’ face brightened.  “Of course!  He’s already paying for the space, so he might as well use it.  Do you think it is that easy?  Do you think the wizard would use Allyssa to replace Ophee so predictably?”  By the time he had finished speaking his face glistened like that of a child on his birthday.

Semeion nodded.  “Of course he would.  He’s a wizard.  There are many things that can be said about wizards, but most of them are logical and pragmatic.  The only people who knew where Ophee lived prior to the incident in the barn were presumed dead.  Putting Allyssa in the same apartment would be a hassle free and immediate solution.”

Ophee reached down the front of her shirt and removed the end of a small necklace made of beads and mulberry hemp that was hanging around her neck.  A bronze skeleton key hung from the end of the necklace.  “Only one way to find out, and I’m going with you.”

The whole party smiled at Ophee’s assertiveness.  She was beginning to come into her own.  Brandt also smiled and wished them well.  It was clear that he was needed at the temple and would not be joining the five adventurers in their excursion across town.  They were off quickly, stopping only for a light breakfast as the traveled across Fingerdale.

The trip was fairly short and they soon found themselves staring up at the squatty building that had once been Ophee’s home.  It wasn’t the nicest of apartment complexes, but it was only two stories instead of the normal three or four.  It had been a fairly quiet home, and Ophee suddenly felt saddened at the thought of someone else living in her space.

Ophee pulled the key out from under her shirt once more.  “You know, I didn’t even get a chance to clean it.  All my papers, belongings, books, and everything else were laid open for that wizard’s perusal.  No doubt that he took advantage, of course.”  There was a hint of bile in her tone.

The door to the building opened suddenly, and a woman popped out from the inside.  She gave the party a strange look, but then quickly turned and walked towards the center of town.  The party watched her go and then moved inside the building.  

The stairs leading to the second story floor were in obvious need of repair, but they were still functional.  The ascent up the stairs went quite easily, and Ophee slipped her key into the lock and opened the door with a single jerk of the handle.  As she stepped inside, a hand reached out from behind her and jerked her back into the hallway.

Ischarus pulled her back into his chest, and his sword was drawn.  “Let Charis and I go first, Ophee.  Allyssa may be in there, and we’ve no idea what kind of power your former master had granted to her.  She’s obviously skilled, and I’d feel better if we went in first.”

Ophee nodded and moved aside to let Charis and Ischarus enter.  Once they made sure that the first room was clear, Ischarus motioned for Ophee, Rhema, and Semeion to enter.  Ischarus disappeared into the room to the left while Charis took the room to the right.  Ophee, Semeion, and Rhema moved into the room and looked out the windows onto the street below.

Ophee spoke, and there was sadness in her voice.  “She’s moved in.  Nothing is the way that I left it.  In fact, much of this furniture has been moved and lived in since I was last here.  I don’t think that there can be any doubt that we’ve found where Allyssa lives.”

Ischarus spoke as he returned from the room to the left.  “Well, that’s obviously her bedroom, and she’s not there.  She’s quite a vigorous sleeper, if the way the sheets and blanket strewn about the bed are any indication.”

Charis also returned.  “Nothing in the bathroom, either.  Someone’s been here, and reasonably recently.  There was still water in the wash basin.  And it was cool, not room temperature.”

Ophee looked back out the window and her eyes suddenly opened.  “You don’t think that the woman was her, do you?  She gave us a strange look, but I didn’t recognize her.  Could she have known me?”

A dark and rumbling voice spoke from behind the party.  “I think that’s a clear possibility.”  The voice was clearly male and quite unwelcoming.

Ischarus and Charis were already facing the entrance to the room and saw the figure approach.  He held two short swords, and the one in his left hand reflected green when it caught the light.  Ischarus lifted his sword high and pulled the shield off of his back.  Charis responded by likewise shielding herself and moving to intercept the intruder.

Semeion slipped his signature spell into the approaching figure before Ischarus could converge upon him.  “Thin-tok Egro.”  The familiar blue pulses flashed from his right shoulder and down his outstretched arm.  The blue energy launched off of his fingers and merged into two magical balls that flashed in the direction of the intruder.  Each ball of energy struck the newcomer solidly, and Semeion smiled at the blow.  His magic had served him well.

Ischarus reached the intruder and swung hard.  The man crossed the backs of his swords together and blocked Ischarus’ attack.  The man laughed as his swords blocked the attack, and once they were free of Ischarus’ own sword he spoke while thrusting at Ischarus with both blades.  “Allyssa told me that you would fight.  I’m glad to have the honor of killing you and watching you die slowly.”

Ischarus noticed that the green tint to the intruder’s left blade was from some kind of oil.  He called out as Charis charged.  “Watch the left blade!  I think it’s poisoned!”  As he spoke, he brought his own blade down and deflected the stab from the intruder’s left hand.  His body tucked and rolled out of range for the man’s attack with his right hand.  He managed to survive the combination unscathed.

Charis arrived at the scene, but the intruder had wisely positioned himself in the doorway so that she couldn’t move around him.  Unable to fight him from the opposite side as Ischarus stood, Charis took up a position beside Ischarus and swung her pick.  The pointed attack nearly landed, but it was deflected at the last minute by the man’s pair of blades.

Rhema had been planning to try a bit of her mind control, but she saw Charis and Ischarus both fail to land a blow.  “For the sake of the poison, guys, nail him!”  Her eyes focused in on the man’s pair of eyes and she pierced his soul with a mental strike.  The man yelled in pain as Rhema assaulted his mind.

Semeion wanted to finish the man, but he knew that he needed to save his magic.  He was the most limited in resources of the party, and he would need to depend on Charis’ and Ischarus’ ability to finish the man.  He watched as the opening for one of his spells vanished when Ischarus stepped forward to attack.  He also watched as the man deflected the strike into the doorjamb.  Ischarus’ blade stuck fast in the wall when he tried to pull it out.

The man snarled as Ischarus lost his blade.  “You know it’s not wise to lose your sword when facing an assassin!”  The assassin’s left blade caught Ischarus on the arm and the green poison leaked into the cut.  Ischarus cried out at the sudden pain from the poison, but managed to stay focused on the assassin’s right blade.  As the assassin continued the attack, Ischarus struck out with his shield and knock the sword out of the hand of the assassin.

As the blade clanked to the ground around the assassin’s feet, Charis returned the blow that the assassin had just given to Ischarus.  The end of her pick dug into the assassin’s side, nearly dropping him to one knee.  As Charis yanked the point of the pick out of the wound, thick red blood flowed freely.  “Surrender now and tell us about the poison, and you live.”

The assassin spat back in Charis’ direction but missed his mark.  “You don’t kill, anyway.”

Rhema looked at the man and grimaced.  She knew he was right, and he had obviously known enough about the party.  “Feel the burn of my wrath, anyway!” 

The assassin smiled.  Her power refused to enter his mind.  He had mustered up enough of a defense through the agony of the blows to ward off her assault.  “Ask your husband whose burn is worse, mind witch.”

Ischarus reached for the hammer at his side and swung it at the assassin.  However, the man blocked his blow and Ischarus noticed that his own attack had lost some power.  The poison leeching through his body was sapping his strength.

The assassin returned the strike as he picked up his fallen sword.  Ischarus managed to jump over the assassin’s low blow from the blade in the assassin’s left hand.  When he landed, he easily spun away from the hurried attack from the assassin’s right blade.

Charis swung once more and put the assassin on his back.  The point of her pick dug into the rising assassin’s leg, and the man collapsed as his leg gave out below him.  His head thumped hard against the floor and he passed into unconsciousness.

Rhema ran to her husband.  “Ischarus, how bad is it?  Charis, can you heal him?”

Charis nodded, but also pointed to Ischarus’ face.  “I think he’ll be fine.  I can’t counter the effect of the poison here, but he seems healthy enough to make it back to the temple.”

Ophee had already moved to the body of the fallen assassin and was rummaging through his pockets.  She pulled out a piece of paper and read the writing aloud.  “The note says, ‘Araxis, there are unwanted guests in my apartment.  Deal with them and meet me at the docks ten minutes after sunset.’  Of course, it is signed Allyssa.”

Ischarus looked down at Ophee as she finished reading the note.  “Well, we at least know where to go next.  Let’s search this place for a little bit and then go back to the temple.  Don’t forget to put the note back, Ophee.  There’s no reason to let Allyssa come back and know for certain that we’ve found it.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
*Chapter Twelve: FERRETING OUT THE WIZARD’S HOUND*

Brandt met up with the party the next morning. The party hadn’t learned much else in the library the prior evening, and when they explained what they had found Brandt was in agreement that they may well have been battling Ankh-Bahl. However, it was not the news of Ankh-Bahl that had the party in anticipation. They wanted Allyssa and her location.

Once the party had finished explaining their research, Ischarus asked Brandt what news he had managed to discover. “Any word of Allyssa’s location?”

Brandt slowly shook his head. “No. I tried everything of which I could possibly think. I tried different appeals to Reah, but someone is hiding her location from me. I tried several attempts to magically locate her, but without a description the magical spying sensors weren’t able to really focus on anyone in particular. Apparently there are just too many people named Allyssa around here. I even went back to Master Searthu, but he was unable to have any success.”

Semeion looked disappointed. “There has got to be some way of finding her. If only we had more information. Doesn’t the temple have a collection of spell references?”

Brandt nodded in the affirmative, but his tone was clearly against Semeion’s thought. “Magic is not always the answer, Semeion. Sometimes, work must be done the old fashioned way. Sometimes in order to find someone you just have to go out and do it.”

Ophee smiled. “You all found me, remember?”

Semeion turned to Ophee and returned her smile, but his smile quickly turned into a look of rejection. “Yes, but we found you because you really found us. Your former master was watching us and knew where we were going to look. So, he sent you there in order that we would find you.”

Charis listened to the conversation, but stared at the joint where the head of her pick had been joined with the handle. When she needed to think, she would hold the pick’s handle in her hand and rotate it over and over. She found that the rolling of the head helped her mind focus on something deeply. “Wait a minute. Maybe Ophee is still the answer.”

A look of horror flashed upon Ophee’s face. “Oh, no. I’m not Allyssa. I might have been brainwashed to try and kill you under the guise of the Whetting One, but the magic mixed with the Arum Dracunculus has been removed from my system, remember? And I have been with you all in this temple every moment from the barn until now. There is no way I’m Allyssa. I’m positive of it.”

Rhema chuckled at Ophee’s vehement argumentation. Of course, she knew that Ophee still carried around a guilty conscience for what she had been tricked into doing for her former master. Of course she would misinterpret Charis’ words. “No, Ophee. I don’t think Charis was trying to say that you were also Allyssa. You’ve played your part out already, and we know that. But you’re right. Your brainwashing has been purged.”

Charis explained her thought a bit deeper once Rhema had comforted Ophee. “Of course not, Ophee. You’re not Allyssa. But Allyssa was brought in to replace you. Think about it. The wizard paid for you to stay in Fingerdale. He’s already got an apartment here that he rents.”

Ischarus’ face brightened. “Of course! He’s already paying for the space, so he might as well use it. Do you think it is that easy? Do you think the wizard would use Allyssa to replace Ophee so predictably?” By the time he had finished speaking his face glistened like that of a child on his birthday.

Semeion nodded. “Of course he would. He’s a wizard. There are many things that can be said about wizards, but most of them are logical and pragmatic. The only people who knew where Ophee lived prior to the incident in the barn were presumed dead. Putting Allyssa in the same apartment would be a hassle free and immediate solution.”

Ophee reached down the front of her shirt and removed the end of a small necklace made of beads and mulberry hemp that was hanging around her neck. A bronze skeleton key hung from the end of the necklace. “Only one way to find out, and I’m going with you.”

The whole party smiled at Ophee’s assertiveness. She was beginning to come into her own. Brandt also smiled and wished them well. It was clear that he was needed at the temple and would not be joining the five adventurers in their excursion across town. They were off quickly, stopping only for a light breakfast as the traveled across Fingerdale.

The trip was fairly short and they soon found themselves staring up at the squatty building that had once been Ophee’s home. It wasn’t the nicest of apartment complexes, but it was only two stories instead of the normal three or four. It had been a fairly quiet home, and Ophee suddenly felt saddened at the thought of someone else living in her space.

Ophee pulled the key out from under her shirt once more. “You know, I didn’t even get a chance to clean it. All my papers, belongings, books, and everything else were laid open for that wizard’s perusal. No doubt that he took advantage, of course.” There was a hint of bile in her tone.

The door to the building opened suddenly, and a woman popped out from the inside. She gave the party a strange look, but then quickly turned and walked towards the center of town. The party watched her go and then moved inside the building. 

The stairs leading to the second story floor were in obvious need of repair, but they were still functional. The ascent up the stairs went quite easily, and Ophee slipped her key into the lock and opened the door with a single jerk of the handle. As she stepped inside, a hand reached out from behind her and jerked her back into the hallway.

Ischarus pulled her back into his chest, and his sword was drawn. “Let Charis and I go first, Ophee. Allyssa may be in there, and we’ve no idea what kind of power your former master had granted to her. She’s obviously skilled, and I’d feel better if we went in first.”

Ophee nodded and moved aside to let Charis and Ischarus enter. Once they made sure that the first room was clear, Ischarus motioned for Ophee, Rhema, and Semeion to enter. Ischarus disappeared into the room to the left while Charis took the room to the right. Ophee, Semeion, and Rhema moved into the room and looked out the windows onto the street below.

Ophee spoke, and there was sadness in her voice. “She’s moved in. Nothing is the way that I left it. In fact, much of this furniture has been moved and lived in since I was last here. I don’t think that there can be any doubt that we’ve found where Allyssa lives.”

Ischarus spoke as he returned from the room to the left. “Well, that’s obviously her bedroom, and she’s not there. She’s quite a vigorous sleeper, if the way the sheets and blanket strewn about the bed are any indication.”

Charis also returned. “Nothing in the bathroom, either. Someone’s been here, and reasonably recently. There was still water in the wash basin. And it was cool, not room temperature.”

Ophee looked back out the window and her eyes suddenly opened. “You don’t think that the woman was her, do you? She gave us a strange look, but I didn’t recognize her. Could she have known me?”

A dark and rumbling voice spoke from behind the party. “I think that’s a clear possibility.” The voice was clearly male and quite unwelcoming.

Ischarus and Charis were already facing the entrance to the room and saw the figure approach. He held two short swords, and the one in his left hand reflected green when it caught the light. Ischarus lifted his sword high and pulled the shield off of his back. Charis responded by likewise shielding herself and moving to intercept the intruder.

Semeion slipped his signature spell into the approaching figure before Ischarus could converge upon him. “Thin-tok Egro.” The familiar blue pulses flashed from his right shoulder and down his outstretched arm. The blue energy launched off of his fingers and merged into two magical balls that flashed in the direction of the intruder. Each ball of energy struck the newcomer solidly, and Semeion smiled at the blow. His magic had served him well.

Ischarus reached the intruder and swung hard. The man crossed the backs of his swords together and blocked Ischarus’ attack. The man laughed as his swords blocked the attack, and once they were free of Ischarus’ own sword he spoke while thrusting at Ischarus with both blades. “Allyssa told me that you would fight. I’m glad to have the honor of killing you and watching you die slowly.”

Ischarus noticed that the green tint to the intruder’s left blade was from some kind of oil. He called out as Charis charged. “Watch the left blade! I think it’s poisoned!” As he spoke, he brought his own blade down and deflected the stab from the intruder’s left hand. His body tucked and rolled out of range for the man’s attack with his right hand. He managed to survive the combination unscathed.

Charis arrived at the scene, but the intruder had wisely positioned himself in the doorway so that she couldn’t move around him. Unable to fight him from the opposite side as Ischarus stood, Charis took up a position beside Ischarus and swung her pick. The pointed attack nearly landed, but it was deflected at the last minute by the man’s pair of blades.

Rhema had been planning to try a bit of her mind control, but she saw Charis and Ischarus both fail to land a blow. “For the sake of the poison, guys, nail him!” Her eyes focused in on the man’s pair of eyes and she pierced his soul with a mental strike. The man yelled in pain as Rhema assaulted his mind.

Semeion wanted to finish the man, but he knew that he needed to save his magic. He was the most limited in resources of the party, and he would need to depend on Charis’ and Ischarus’ ability to finish the man. He watched as the opening for one of his spells vanished when Ischarus stepped forward to attack. He also watched as the man deflected the strike into the doorjamb. Ischarus’ blade stuck fast in the wall when he tried to pull it out.

The man snarled as Ischarus lost his blade. “You know it’s not wise to lose your sword when facing an assassin!” The assassin’s left blade caught Ischarus on the arm and the green poison leaked into the cut. Ischarus cried out at the sudden pain from the poison, but managed to stay focused on the assassin’s right blade. As the assassin continued the attack, Ischarus struck out with his shield and knock the sword out of the hand of the assassin.

As the blade clanked to the ground around the assassin’s feet, Charis returned the blow that the assassin had just given to Ischarus. The end of her pick dug into the assassin’s side, nearly dropping him to one knee. As Charis yanked the point of the pick out of the wound, thick red blood flowed freely. “Surrender now and tell us about the poison, and you live.”

The assassin spat back in Charis’ direction but missed his mark. “You don’t kill, anyway.”

Rhema looked at the man and grimaced. She knew he was right, and he had obviously known enough about the party. “Feel the burn of my wrath, anyway!” 

The assassin smiled. Her power refused to enter his mind. He had mustered up enough of a defense through the agony of the blows to ward off her assault. “Ask your husband whose burn is worse, mind witch.”

Ischarus reached for the hammer at his side and swung it at the assassin. However, the man blocked his blow and Ischarus noticed that his own attack had lost some power. The poison leeching through his body was sapping his strength.

The assassin returned the strike as he picked up his fallen sword. Ischarus managed to jump over the assassin’s low blow from the blade in the assassin’s left hand. When he landed, he easily spun away from the hurried attack from the assassin’s right blade.

Charis swung once more and put the assassin on his back. The point of her pick dug into the rising assassin’s leg, and the man collapsed as his leg gave out below him. His head thumped hard against the floor and he passed into unconsciousness.

Rhema ran to her husband. “Ischarus, how bad is it? Charis, can you heal him?”

Charis nodded, but also pointed to Ischarus’ face. “I think he’ll be fine. I can’t counter the effect of the poison here, but he seems healthy enough to make it back to the temple.”

Ophee had already moved to the body of the fallen assassin and was rummaging through his pockets. She pulled out a piece of paper and read the writing aloud. “The note says, ‘Araxis, there are unwanted guests in my apartment. Deal with them and meet me at the docks ten minutes after sunset.’ Of course, it is signed Allyssa.”

Ischarus looked down at Ophee as she finished reading the note. “Well, we at least know where to go next. Let’s search this place for a little bit and then go back to the temple. Don’t forget to put the note back, Ophee. There’s no reason to let Allyssa come back and know for certain that we’ve found it.”
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Aug 2, 2007)

Rhema frowned at Ischarus’ suggestion.  “Oh no you don’t!  We are not hanging around here while you have a toxin running through your system.  There is no telling how that green stuff might affect your body!”

Ischarus frowned.  “I’m fine, really.  The poison sapped my strength a little, but I’m fine.  I can certainly stay here for a few more minutes to help search.  Then we can all go back together.”

Rhema looked her husband straight in his eyes.  “I don’t think so.  It’s stupid to not go and get healing right away!”

Charis didn’t particularly enjoy getting between Ischarus and Rhema.  She didn’t like the idea of choosing sides; and she liked even less the thought of becoming involved in a marital dispute.  However, she knew that the quicker they moved past this issue the less time they had to stay in potential danger.  So, she looked up from her position of tending to the fallen assassin and interrupted their dispute.  In spite of what her heart told her, she interjected her opinion anyway.  “Rhema, I guarantee that I can keep him alive for another hour.  I can’t deliver him from the poison here, but I can make sure that so long as we leave within an hour that he will live.  Give me that hour and then I’ll take your side.”

Ischarus saw his opening and smiled.  “Besides, if I go back to the Temple of Reah now, someone will have to go with me.  If Allyssa is watching and she has friends like the poor guy lying here on the floor, then we put ourselves in more jeopardy if we split up.  If we search and then go together, then we’ll be more likely to all arrive intact.”

Rhema shot a nasty glance towards Ischarus.  She wasn’t very appreciative of his logic; and in terms of his safety she hated being argued with.  “Fine, do it your way.  But if you die before we get back to the temple I’m going to have one of the temple priests bring your spirit back so I can kill you myself!  I might even ask Brandt to do it!”

Semeion tried his best to not laugh at Rhema’s suggestion.  A slight snort came out of his mouth and his lips curled up in amusement; but he was able to hold in the rest of his laugh.  His look vanished completely when Rhema and Charis both turned to him and glared.  Rhema’s look was one of anger.  Charis gave Semeion a look that told him to stay out of Rhema’s way.

Rhema turned to the bedroom.  “You’ve got an hour.  I suggest you use it.”  She spun on her heels away from Ischarus and marched into the bedroom.  Her pace indicated that she was not pleased about the decision.

Semeion turned back to Ischarus and Charis.  “I’ll search the bedroom with Rhema.  I don’t think it is safe for either of you two to be in there with her right now.  Besides, Charis should stay near you, Ischarus.  That way if something does happen she’ll be here.”

Ischarus nodded and watched Semeion leave the room.  “Well?”

Charis nodded with an interesting smile upon her lips.  “Come here.  I found something in the bathroom earlier and I’d like you to see it for yourself.”

Ophee stayed in the main room to search while Ischarus followed Charis into the small bathroom and watched her bend down to the floor.  She removed a small gold ring from where it was rest behind the wash basin.  “It looks like some kind of token for an organization.”

The ring had a flat face which would rest above the finger.  Upon the face of the ring was a very intricate design.  The picture presented a small hand reaching into a coin purse.  The drawstrings were opened and hanging free from the edge of the purse.  The coin purse was currently full, but the implication of the picture was that it was soon to become empty.

Ischarus accepted the ring from Charis and examined it thoroughly.  “Do you know what this is?  I came across this picture yesterday while I was doing the research on the succubus.”

Charis nodded in full agreement.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.  It looked familiar from last night, but I wanted someone else’s opinion before I went wild with the implications.  If this is true, then Allyssa could well be a follower of Yrraxea.  If that’s true, then who knows what else could follow.”

Ischarus sighed heavily as he thought for a few seconds.  His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.  “How do you know it is Allyssa’s?”  He nodded in the direction of the main room where Ophee was currently searching.

Charis pulled back from Ischarus and gave him a disapproving look.  “Come on, Ischarus.  You can’t be serious.  After all she’s been through?  No way is she a follower of Yrraxea.  It’s Allyssa’s ring.”  Her voice lowered to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard easily.

Ischarus nodded in agreement.  “I’m just saying, that’s all.  We don’t know for certain.  I think it’s kind of odd that Allyssa would leave a holy symbol lying behind a washbasin.  This looks more forgotten than left behind.  People who take their religion seriously aren’t usually forgetful about their holy stuff.  This is especially true about holy stuff that is banned in the civilized lands.”

Charis grinned.  “Unholy, Ischarus.  Yrraxea is evil enough to qualify for being unholy.”  She took the ring back and slipped it into a pocket before nodding that they should return to the main room.

In the bedroom, Semeion and Rhema were also making progress in their search.  Once they had collected the bed sheets that had been strewn everywhere and then piled them on top of the mattress, they began to find items of interest.  When Semeion crouched to the ground to look under the mattress he discovered something shiny and pulled it out.

The object that came out was an interesting looking dagger.  The steel blade was bent nearly forty five degrees about eight inches after coming away from the handle.  The actual edge of the blade was on the inward side of the blade, indicating that the blade would most likely be used in a slicing motion by a hand moving backwards or in an arc around the body.  The outer edge of the blade was wide and flat, and Semeion could see that there were several marks along the edge where the blade had been used to block an attack.  “It looks like some kind of dagger.  And on each side of the flat of the blade there is an unusual marking.”

Rhema turned towards Semeion and held out a hand in order to ask for the blade.  She examined the strange dagger and the delicate carving inscribed twice on the blade.  “Ischarus pointed this symbol out to me last night in the library.  It is a symbol used by the followers of Yrraxea.  It is a hand reaching into the coin purse of another.”

Semeion nodded.  “Well, Yrraxea does seem like the greedy type.  If it was indeed Ankh-Bahl that we fought, she certainly wasn’t concerned with who she used and destroyed.”

Rhema corrected Semeion.  “Not just greed, Semeion, avarice.  Someone who is greedy is nothing more than a simple horde collector.  The typical evil dragon is greedy, but not all of the evil dragons display true avarice.  Avarice takes greed a step further.  Avarice is greed without care of whom or what is lost in the process.  Anyone can be greedy.  Yrraxea takes greed to another level and delights in combining greed with power.”

As she spoke to him, Semeion took another look around the room.  “You know, Allyssa left in a hurry.  The bedclothes don’t tell me that; they could just indicate that she was messy in her housekeeping.  But look over there.”  His hand extended to a small pile of papers.  Underneath the papers was a delicate golden colored drawstring leading from a cloth bag.  “That looks like a coin purse.  The more we talk about Yrraxea, the less likely I think someone who follows Yrraxea would leave a coin purse out in the open like that.”

Rhema moved so that she could remove the papers from the coin purse.  Semeion cautioned her as she worked.  “Careful, it could be trapped.”

Rhema frowned in Semeion’s direction.  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.  But I don’t see any traps.  I think that you’re right.  I think she saw us coming and panicked.  She wanted to get out quickly and couldn’t afford to take her valuables with her.  I could see the ceremonial dagger being left behind, but the coin purse?  That isn’t something becoming of an Yrraxean.”

Semeion nodded.  “Yeah, but this dagger has seen action.  I don’t think it’s as ceremonial as you think.  I think it was left because she couldn’t find it in her rush to leave the apartment.”

Rhema had moved the papers and opened the drawstring of the bag.  Nothing happened as she did so, and she reached in to remove some of the contents.  She pulled out several gemstones.  “No coins, but there is plenty of obsidian in here.”  Her left hand held enough obsidian to provide food for several families for half of a year.  “She’s obviously not short on money.”

Semeion nodded as he spied the obsidian.  “Nor influence, I’d imagine.  Are you planning on taking it?”

Rhema knew better than to think Semeion was trying to give her a moral dilemma.  “Stealing is stealing, Semeion.  But since she did send an assassin after my husband, the least I can do is exact payment for his healing at the temple.”

Semeion reached out and lifted the end of the bag off of Rhema’s hands once she had removed enough money to pay for Ischarus’ healing.  “You know, I’d hate for someone else to follow us in here and take this money from her.  I think I’ll take possession on her behalf.  When we find her tonight, I’ll give it back.  Or in the more likely case that we find her and take her to jail, I’ll turn this over to the temple for the benefit of the poor here in Fingerdale.”

Rhema lifted an eyebrow at his words.  “Stealing, Semeion?”  Her lip curled mischievously.  If Semeion wasn’t planning on bringing the moral question into play, then she would do so.

Semeion nodded.  “Technically, I agree.  This would be stealing.  And the fact that she’s an Yrraxean doesn’t make it alright.  But this kind of money could sustain her for a while if she slips through our fingers tonight.  You can’t tell me that there isn’t wisdom in removing resources, even if it is technically wrong.”

Rhema smiled.  There was wisdom in his words, just not pure holiness.  “You know what they say about a certain road and good intentions.”

Semeion held up his hands as though he were going to be arrested.  The coin purse dangled in midair below his right hand as his fingers held onto the drawstring.  “Guilty as charged.  But I admit it.  Maybe I’ll just do confession and penance with Brandt later so he can atone me for my error.”  His voice was teasing just enough that Rhema thought he might seriously be considering it.

Rhema nodded.  “I’ll hold you to that.  No we’ve got what we need.  We can connect Allyssa to an Yrraxean cult and pay for undoing the damage that Allyssa’s assassin did to us.  Let’s get out of here.”

In the main room, Ischarus was looking over some documents that Ophee had found in a locked drawer.  Ophee had easily managed to pick the lock without destroying it.  She had stuffed a few documents into her pockets, and Ischarus was trying to help her decide if there were any other pieces of parchment they needed to take.

Ischarus looked up to Semeion as he carried the coin purse and strange dagger out of the room.  “That is a nice kukri, Semeion.  Where’d you find that?”

Semeion smirked.  “Hidden under the bed.  But what’s important about it is that it is Yrraxean.  We can tie Allyssa to Yrraxea.”

Charis held up the gold ring.  “So can we.  And Ophee managed to find some documents with her name on them.  They mention the wizard, but they also talk about some other people.  We’re reading what we can and leaving the majority behind.  That way she hopefully won’t notice the few missing pieces if she returns here.”

Semeion watched as Ophee scanned the last page.  “Good.  Let’s go, then.  We’ve got what we need, and we are going to need a plan for tonight.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema frowned at Ischarus’ suggestion. “Oh no you don’t! We are not hanging around here while you have a toxin running through your system. There is no telling how that green stuff might affect your body!”

Ischarus frowned. “I’m fine, really. The poison sapped my strength a little, but I’m fine. I can certainly stay here for a few more minutes to help search. Then we can all go back together.”

Rhema looked her husband straight in his eyes. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid to not go and get healing right away!”

Charis didn’t particularly enjoy getting between Ischarus and Rhema. She didn’t like the idea of choosing sides; and she liked even less the thought of becoming involved in a marital dispute. However, she knew that the quicker they moved past this issue the less time they had to stay in potential danger. So, she looked up from her position of tending to the fallen assassin and interrupted their dispute. In spite of what her heart told her, she interjected her opinion anyway. “Rhema, I guarantee that I can keep him alive for another hour. I can’t deliver him from the poison here, but I can make sure that so long as we leave within an hour that he will live. Give me that hour and then I’ll take your side.”

Ischarus saw his opening and smiled. “Besides, if I go back to the Temple of Reah now, someone will have to go with me. If Allyssa is watching and she has friends like the poor guy lying here on the floor, then we put ourselves in more jeopardy if we split up. If we search and then go together, then we’ll be more likely to all arrive intact.”

Rhema shot a nasty glance towards Ischarus. She wasn’t very appreciative of his logic; and in terms of his safety she hated being argued with. “Fine, do it your way. But if you die before we get back to the temple I’m going to have one of the temple priests bring your spirit back so I can kill you myself! I might even ask Brandt to do it!”

Semeion tried his best to not laugh at Rhema’s suggestion. A slight snort came out of his mouth and his lips curled up in amusement; but he was able to hold in the rest of his laugh. His look vanished completely when Rhema and Charis both turned to him and glared. Rhema’s look was one of anger. Charis gave Semeion a look that told him to stay out of Rhema’s way.

Rhema turned to the bedroom. “You’ve got an hour. I suggest you use it.” She spun on her heels away from Ischarus and marched into the bedroom. Her pace indicated that she was not pleased about the decision.

Semeion turned back to Ischarus and Charis. “I’ll search the bedroom with Rhema. I don’t think it is safe for either of you two to be in there with her right now. Besides, Charis should stay near you, Ischarus. That way if something does happen she’ll be here.”

Ischarus nodded and watched Semeion leave the room. “Well?”

Charis nodded with an interesting smile upon her lips. “Come here. I found something in the bathroom earlier and I’d like you to see it for yourself.”

Ophee stayed in the main room to search while Ischarus followed Charis into the small bathroom and watched her bend down to the floor. She removed a small gold ring from where it was rest behind the wash basin. “It looks like some kind of token for an organization.”

The ring had a flat face which would rest above the finger. Upon the face of the ring was a very intricate design. The picture presented a small hand reaching into a coin purse. The drawstrings were opened and hanging free from the edge of the purse. The coin purse was currently full, but the implication of the picture was that it was soon to become empty.

Ischarus accepted the ring from Charis and examined it thoroughly. “Do you know what this is? I came across this picture yesterday while I was doing the research on the succubus.”

Charis nodded in full agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. It looked familiar from last night, but I wanted someone else’s opinion before I went wild with the implications. If this is true, then Allyssa could well be a follower of Yrraxea. If that’s true, then who knows what else could follow.”

Ischarus sighed heavily as he thought for a few seconds. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do you know it is Allyssa’s?” He nodded in the direction of the main room where Ophee was currently searching.

Charis pulled back from Ischarus and gave him a disapproving look. “Come on, Ischarus. You can’t be serious. After all she’s been through? No way is she a follower of Yrraxea. It’s Allyssa’s ring.” Her voice lowered to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard easily.

Ischarus nodded in agreement. “I’m just saying, that’s all. We don’t know for certain. I think it’s kind of odd that Allyssa would leave a holy symbol lying behind a washbasin. This looks more forgotten than left behind. People who take their religion seriously aren’t usually forgetful about their holy stuff. This is especially true about holy stuff that is banned in the civilized lands.”

Charis grinned. “Unholy, Ischarus. Yrraxea is evil enough to qualify for being unholy.” She took the ring back and slipped it into a pocket before nodding that they should return to the main room.

In the bedroom, Semeion and Rhema were also making progress in their search. Once they had collected the bed sheets that had been strewn everywhere and then piled them on top of the mattress, they began to find items of interest. When Semeion crouched to the ground to look under the mattress he discovered something shiny and pulled it out.

The object that came out was an interesting looking dagger. The steel blade was bent nearly forty five degrees about eight inches after coming away from the handle. The actual edge of the blade was on the inward side of the blade, indicating that the blade would most likely be used in a slicing motion by a hand moving backwards or in an arc around the body. The outer edge of the blade was wide and flat, and Semeion could see that there were several marks along the edge where the blade had been used to block an attack. “It looks like some kind of dagger. And on each side of the flat of the blade there is an unusual marking.”

Rhema turned towards Semeion and held out a hand in order to ask for the blade. She examined the strange dagger and the delicate carving inscribed twice on the blade. “Ischarus pointed this symbol out to me last night in the library. It is a symbol used by the followers of Yrraxea. It is a hand reaching into the coin purse of another.”

Semeion nodded. “Well, Yrraxea does seem like the greedy type. If it was indeed Ankh-Bahl that we fought, she certainly wasn’t concerned with who she used and destroyed.”

Rhema corrected Semeion. “Not just greed, Semeion, avarice. Someone who is greedy is nothing more than a simple horde collector. The typical evil dragon is greedy, but not all of the evil dragons display true avarice. Avarice takes greed a step further. Avarice is greed without care of whom or what is lost in the process. Anyone can be greedy. Yrraxea takes greed to another level and delights in combining greed with power.”

As she spoke to him, Semeion took another look around the room. “You know, Allyssa left in a hurry. The bedclothes don’t tell me that; they could just indicate that she was messy in her housekeeping. But look over there.” His hand extended to a small pile of papers. Underneath the papers was a delicate golden colored drawstring leading from a cloth bag. “That looks like a coin purse. The more we talk about Yrraxea, the less likely I think someone who follows Yrraxea would leave a coin purse out in the open like that.”

Rhema moved so that she could remove the papers from the coin purse. Semeion cautioned her as she worked. “Careful, it could be trapped.”

Rhema frowned in Semeion’s direction. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I don’t see any traps. I think that you’re right. I think she saw us coming and panicked. She wanted to get out quickly and couldn’t afford to take her valuables with her. I could see the ceremonial dagger being left behind, but the coin purse? That isn’t something becoming of an Yrraxean.”

Semeion nodded. “Yeah, but this dagger has seen action. I don’t think it’s as ceremonial as you think. I think it was left because she couldn’t find it in her rush to leave the apartment.”

Rhema had moved the papers and opened the drawstring of the bag. Nothing happened as she did so, and she reached in to remove some of the contents. She pulled out several gemstones. “No coins, but there is plenty of obsidian in here.” Her left hand held enough obsidian to provide food for several families for half of a year. “She’s obviously not short on money.”

Semeion nodded as he spied the obsidian. “Nor influence, I’d imagine. Are you planning on taking it?”

Rhema knew better than to think Semeion was trying to give her a moral dilemma. “Stealing is stealing, Semeion. But since she did send an assassin after my husband, the least I can do is exact payment for his healing at the temple.”

Semeion reached out and lifted the end of the bag off of Rhema’s hands once she had removed enough money to pay for Ischarus’ healing. “You know, I’d hate for someone else to follow us in here and take this money from her. I think I’ll take possession on her behalf. When we find her tonight, I’ll give it back. Or in the more likely case that we find her and take her to jail, I’ll turn this over to the temple for the benefit of the poor here in Fingerdale.”

Rhema lifted an eyebrow at his words. “Stealing, Semeion?” Her lip curled mischievously. If Semeion wasn’t planning on bringing the moral question into play, then she would do so.

Semeion nodded. “Technically, I agree. This would be stealing. And the fact that she’s an Yrraxean doesn’t make it alright. But this kind of money could sustain her for a while if she slips through our fingers tonight. You can’t tell me that there isn’t wisdom in removing resources, even if it is technically wrong.”

Rhema smiled. There was wisdom in his words, just not pure holiness. “You know what they say about a certain road and good intentions.”

Semeion held up his hands as though he were going to be arrested. The coin purse dangled in midair below his right hand as his fingers held onto the drawstring. “Guilty as charged. But I admit it. Maybe I’ll just do confession and penance with Brandt later so he can atone me for my error.” His voice was teasing just enough that Rhema thought he might seriously be considering it.

Rhema nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. No we’ve got what we need. We can connect Allyssa to an Yrraxean cult and pay for undoing the damage that Allyssa’s assassin did to us. Let’s get out of here.”

In the main room, Ischarus was looking over some documents that Ophee had found in a locked drawer. Ophee had easily managed to pick the lock without destroying it. She had stuffed a few documents into her pockets, and Ischarus was trying to help her decide if there were any other pieces of parchment they needed to take.

Ischarus looked up to Semeion as he carried the coin purse and strange dagger out of the room. “That is a nice kukri, Semeion. Where’d you find that?”

Semeion smirked. “Hidden under the bed. But what’s important about it is that it is Yrraxean. We can tie Allyssa to Yrraxea.”

Charis held up the gold ring. “So can we. And Ophee managed to find some documents with her name on them. They mention the wizard, but they also talk about some other people. We’re reading what we can and leaving the majority behind. That way she hopefully won’t notice the few missing pieces if she returns here.”

Semeion watched as Ophee scanned the last page. “Good. Let’s go, then. We’ve got what we need, and we are going to need a plan for tonight.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 6, 2007)

The party had little trouble finding and paying for healing services at the Temple of Reah.  They paid the healer well for his services and offered a substantial tip from the coin purse that Semeion removed from Allyssa’s apartment.  The money was given as a donation to the poor and needy.  They had also brought Allyssa’s hired assassin to the temple for observation and interrogation and use some of the funds to cover those expenses as well.  

Unfortunately, Brandt was unreachable, and they were unable to share their findings regarding the tie to Yrraxea with their mentor.  They hung around the temple of Reah for most of the day just in case Brandt returned.  While they were able to use the time to plan for the upcoming visit to the docks, Brandt did not surprise them in returning unexpectedly.  An hour before sunset, the five adventurers left the temple and headed to the northern edge of the city.  There they hope to be able to spot Allyssa and follow her to the appropriate section of the docks.

The trip across town was uneventful, and they managed to set up an observation post a half hour before Allyssa was supposed to meet her assassin.  They had used an alleyway to sneak onto a rooftop that overlooked the various entrances to the dock.  They waited in silence until Ophee spotted several forms drawing closer to the docks.

Ophee spoke in a hushed tone.  “That’s Allyssa for sure.  It looks like she’s with four others.”

Ophee pointed over the edge of the flat rooftop at a group of five people heading towards the dock.  Each of the five wore a black traveling cloak, and only Allyssa had pulled her hood down along her back.  The other four walked with their hoods up in a traditional clerical fashion.

The black robes flowed from shoulder to only an inch and a half off of the ground.  They completely concealed clothing as well as any worn arms and armor.  Since the party was on the rooftop well above Allyssa and her associates, they could not even see any feet beneath the robes.  The impression given by the flow of the cloaks was that the five people heading to the dock were floating on air.

Ischarus squinted as they drew closer to the roof.  He caught sight of a common silver medallion worn around each of the necks of the five in black cloaks.  “Yrraxeans.”  His voice spoke in disgust, and it was likely a combination of the identification of the medallion and the fact that he had to keep his voice hushed.  “If I am seeing the engraving and the painting correctly, I see a hand and a coin purse.”

Charis nodded along with Ischarus’ words.  “And they’re wearing the medallions so openly, too.  They don’t seem to be afraid of discovery.”

Rhema countered Charis’ suggestion.  “Perhaps, but would you have known what the symbol for Yrraxea looked like before yesterday?  If I would’ve seen those medallions few days ago I would have thought it to be a sign of a merchant’s guild.”

Charis agreed with Rhema’s counter to her own thought.  “Or some kind of rogues’ or thieves’ guild.”

Allyssa and her four companions took no notice of the party as the walked below them.  They headed straight onto the nearest dock and walked past several moored boats before turning right and boarding a large vessel.  They had a few brief words with the dock guard who had been paid to restrict access to the moored boat.  There was no hesitation or caution in their movement.  They didn’t seem to care who might be following them.

Semeion spoke for the first time since seeing the five followers of Yrraxea.  “They didn’t wait at the docks for the assassin.  My guess is they know that he failed.  That means they may know that we are still alive and pursuing them”

Ischarus noted Semeion’s comment and put the group into motion.  “Good observation.  We’ll need to approach with caution, then.  Let’s go.”

They slipped off the roof and into the alley that had given them access to the roof.  In a matter of minutes they casually entered the main road and began walking towards the docks.  Ischarus was beginning to take the lead and plan his speech to the dock guard when he was surprised by a ring of metal and a voice from behind.

The voice was clearly feminine.  “Allyssa is expecting you.  Good thing you aren’t expecting us!”

Semeion took two quick blows to his back before he could turn around and face the voice.  Rhema had also taken a strike from a blade.  Rhema removed her sword and spun around.  Semeion was not so lucky.  The combination of attacks was enough to catch him off guard and he merely fell to the ground in pain, motionless.

As the party turned at the sound of the voice, they discovered that they had been followed.  They saw three figures dressed in black assassin’s robes.  The female was in the center and she was flanked by two slightly larger men.  Fortunately, Ischarus made a quick check of the blades and could see no indication of poison use.

The party hadn’t considered that Allyssa would have gone to such measures, but it didn’t surprise any of them too much.  They were dealing with an organization that seemed to excel at staying hidden and covering their tracks.  They were skilled at working with assassins, too.

Charis cried out as Semeion fell to the ground, but there was little she could do at the moment.  Before she could draw her own weapon, the three assassins were swarming past Semeion and towards Ischarus and Charis.  The first two assassins missed, but the third assassin landed another blow against Rhema.  She looked to be in a significant amount of pain after the strike.

Ischarus turned his blade over in his hand and faked a strike.  Instead of swinging with his blade, he reached out with his hand and nearly touched the woman leader.  His goal wasn’t to make contact.  He simply needed to gesture in her direction.  “Zysh Egro Umaam.”  The woman was bathed in a dark silhouette and a sudden look of panic spread across her face.  Ischarus prepared his blade for when she would run.

Rhema knew that she didn’t have much time left before she would be overcome and lying helplessly on the ground beside Semeion.  She wasn’t sure how tough her adversaries were, but she knew that she had been hit hard twice in a row.  She mustered her mental powers and launched the most vicious mental strike that she had ever unloaded against another being.  The man’s face grew immediately red as if his mind and body were suddenly under a great amount of stress.  His heart rate increased so rapidly on account of the duress that the man fell of unconscious before he could even crouch down to the ground or grab his head in agony.

Charis knew that she had one of the assassins looking to do the same thing to her as he had done to Semeion.  She twisted the handle of her pick once in her hand and then snapped her wrist forward.  The pick sprung forward and bit into the assassin’s flesh, drawing a fair amount of red blood from the meaty part of his thigh.  The assassin received the blow well and returned the solid blow with one of his own.  Charis winced under the pain, but managed to shrug off the cut and blood with clenched teeth.

Ophee took a swing at the woman assassin, but her blade missed its mark.  She positioned herself defensively so that if the woman would strike out again she would be prepared.  She didn’t realize that Ischarus had made her afraid of him through magic.

The woman assassin fled, much like Ischarus thought that she would.  His spell had convinced her to lower her defenses and move as quickly as she could.  Ischarus swiped at her retreating back as she moved by, but the edge of his blade didn’t catch anything except the air as she moved away.  He turned and focused on the assassin who was looking to harm Charis.  He used the momentum of the turn to drive his blade home.  His blade dug into the back of the assassin’s right shoulder.  As he pulled his blade free, the man slumped to the ground.

Ischarus turned and made eye contact with his wife.  “Rhema, stop her if you can.  Don’t get too close, but use any trick you can to attack her while she’s running away!”

Rhema focused on the retreating leader and unleashed another mental strike.  This blow was not as menacing as the one she had thrown up in defense a moment ago.  The assassin shrieked in pain as she ran away, but Rhema’s attack was not enough to bring her to the ground.  As the woman shrieked, Rhema turned to Charis.  “We’ll take care of her.  You check on Semeion and get him on his feet!  We’ll be back for the others.”

Ischarus stowed his blade and drew his bow as he ran after the fleeing woman.  He knocked an arrow and drew the string back.  He stopped only for a moment to aim and fire.  His arrow missed high and long, barely threatening the retreating woman.

Rhema knew that the woman was very quickly going to be out of range for both her mental strikes and Ischarus’ arrows.  She charged after the woman, hoping to at least keep pace with her until Ischarus’ spell wore off.  As Rhema ran, Ischarus was forced to forego firing again and run with Rhema in order to protect her in case the spell wore off.

As Charis watched her two friends charge after the female assassin, Charis suddenly became suspicious of the area around her.  She rushed to Semeion’s side and checked on his wounds.  She could tell that he had been hit hard, but he was in little danger of dying.  She took a quick look around to make sure that there weren’t any assassins waiting for the party to split up before attacking.  

Once she was sure that she was safe for the moment, Charis dropped her pick beside her husband and removed her left glove.  She knew that the magic would have worked through the leather, but she need to feel his skin after watching him fall limp to the ground.  “Bondras-tol Shintar.”  She stroked his hair for a few seconds until he opened his eyes and let out a light groan.  Charis smiled, knowing that he would be stiff from his injuries.

While Charis had been healing her husband, Ischarus’ spell had managed to wear off.  The female assassin turned around and examined the battlefield.  She could see that her associates were down, but she had managed to split the party up.  If she could attack Rhema and Ischarus before Charis could come to their help, there was a chance for victory still.  She pivoted and charged towards Rhema and Ischarus.

Ischarus did a good job protecting Rhema and getting in the way of the charging assassin.  The assassin took advantage of Ischarus’ obvious defensive positioning and made a delicate strike.  Her blade caught Ischarus in the side and opened up a long gash.  Several streams of blood trickled from the nine inch wound, although the blade hadn’t penetrated nearly far enough to put Ischarus in too much danger.

Ischarus returned the blow with one of his own.  His blade caught the assassin across her arm and dug into the skin.  The woman’s dark clothing darkened even more and clung to her skin as the cloth absorbed the flowing blood.  He smiled as he realized that if they continued to simply exchange blows he would be victorious.

Rhema thought for a moment about charming the woman and trying to interrogate her in case she had any useful information regarding the meeting that was happening on the boat.  However, she assumed that her mental control would have a difficult time overcoming the effects of the current battle.  She opted for another mental strike and in response to the assault the woman howled in pain.  The assassin dropped to one knee and hung her head for a moment.

Ischarus paused for a moment, thinking that the woman was going to surrender or fall unconscious from the mental anguish.  The assassin took advantage of his hesitation and drove upwards in a desperation strike.  The blade of her short sword caught Ischarus in the arm and drew blood again.  The wound was far from fatal.

Ischarus twisted his blade in his hands and brought it down upon the woman.  He caught her cleanly and she sprawled backwards onto the ground.  Her head thumped against the stone road and she passed into unconsciousness.  Ischarus stooped to her side to ensure that she was breathing before looking around for Charis.

By this time, Charis had managed to get Semeion to his feet with Ophee’s help.  They were already making slow progress on their way to meet Ischarus and Rhema.  When Charis saw Ischarus crouch beside the assassin and look up, she called to Rhema.  “Rhema, come help Ophee bring Semeion along.  He’s a little stiff from his wounds.  I’ll come and make sure the assassin isn’t going to die.”

Rhema turned and sprinted to Semeion while Charis ran to Ischarus’ side.  In a matter of minutes the party had managed to secure the assassins in such a way that they weren’t in danger of dying, yet they weren’t able to escape.  There hadn’t been any other sign around the docks of more henchmen working for Allyssa.  It seemed like getting onto the boat was soon to be the next order of business. 

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party had little trouble finding and paying for healing services at the Temple of Reah. They paid the healer well for his services and offered a substantial tip from the coin purse that Semeion removed from Allyssa’s apartment. The money was given as a donation to the poor and needy. They had also brought Allyssa’s hired assassin to the temple for observation and interrogation and use some of the funds to cover those expenses as well. 

Unfortunately, Brandt was unreachable, and they were unable to share their findings regarding the tie to Yrraxea with their mentor. They hung around the temple of Reah for most of the day just in case Brandt returned. While they were able to use the time to plan for the upcoming visit to the docks, Brandt did not surprise them in returning unexpectedly. An hour before sunset, the five adventurers left the temple and headed to the northern edge of the city. There they hope to be able to spot Allyssa and follow her to the appropriate section of the docks.

The trip across town was uneventful, and they managed to set up an observation post a half hour before Allyssa was supposed to meet her assassin. They had used an alleyway to sneak onto a rooftop that overlooked the various entrances to the dock. They waited in silence until Ophee spotted several forms drawing closer to the docks.

Ophee spoke in a hushed tone. “That’s Allyssa for sure. It looks like she’s with four others.”

Ophee pointed over the edge of the flat rooftop at a group of five people heading towards the dock. Each of the five wore a black traveling cloak, and only Allyssa had pulled her hood down along her back. The other four walked with their hoods up in a traditional clerical fashion.

The black robes flowed from shoulder to only an inch and a half off of the ground. They completely concealed clothing as well as any worn arms and armor. Since the party was on the rooftop well above Allyssa and her associates, they could not even see any feet beneath the robes. The impression given by the flow of the cloaks was that the five people heading to the dock were floating on air.

Ischarus squinted as they drew closer to the roof. He caught sight of a common silver medallion worn around each of the necks of the five in black cloaks. “Yrraxeans.” His voice spoke in disgust, and it was likely a combination of the identification of the medallion and the fact that he had to keep his voice hushed. “If I am seeing the engraving and the painting correctly, I see a hand and a coin purse.”

Charis nodded along with Ischarus’ words. “And they’re wearing the medallions so openly, too. They don’t seem to be afraid of discovery.”

Rhema countered Charis’ suggestion. “Perhaps, but would you have known what the symbol for Yrraxea looked like before yesterday? If I would’ve seen those medallions few days ago I would have thought it to be a sign of a merchant’s guild.”

Charis agreed with Rhema’s counter to her own thought. “Or some kind of rogues’ or thieves’ guild.”

Allyssa and her four companions took no notice of the party as the walked below them. They headed straight onto the nearest dock and walked past several moored boats before turning right and boarding a large vessel. They had a few brief words with the dock guard who had been paid to restrict access to the moored boat. There was no hesitation or caution in their movement. They didn’t seem to care who might be following them.

Semeion spoke for the first time since seeing the five followers of Yrraxea. “They didn’t wait at the docks for the assassin. My guess is they know that he failed. That means they may know that we are still alive and pursuing them”

Ischarus noted Semeion’s comment and put the group into motion. “Good observation. We’ll need to approach with caution, then. Let’s go.”

They slipped off the roof and into the alley that had given them access to the roof. In a matter of minutes they casually entered the main road and began walking towards the docks. Ischarus was beginning to take the lead and plan his speech to the dock guard when he was surprised by a ring of metal and a voice from behind.

The voice was clearly feminine. “Allyssa is expecting you. Good thing you aren’t expecting us!”

Semeion took two quick blows to his back before he could turn around and face the voice. Rhema had also taken a strike from a blade. Rhema removed her sword and spun around. Semeion was not so lucky. The combination of attacks was enough to catch him off guard and he merely fell to the ground in pain, motionless.

As the party turned at the sound of the voice, they discovered that they had been followed. They saw three figures dressed in black assassin’s robes. The female was in the center and she was flanked by two slightly larger men. Fortunately, Ischarus made a quick check of the blades and could see no indication of poison use.

The party hadn’t considered that Allyssa would have gone to such measures, but it didn’t surprise any of them too much. They were dealing with an organization that seemed to excel at staying hidden and covering their tracks. They were skilled at working with assassins, too.

Charis cried out as Semeion fell to the ground, but there was little she could do at the moment. Before she could draw her own weapon, the three assassins were swarming past Semeion and towards Ischarus and Charis. The first two assassins missed, but the third assassin landed another blow against Rhema. She looked to be in a significant amount of pain after the strike.

Ischarus turned his blade over in his hand and faked a strike. Instead of swinging with his blade, he reached out with his hand and nearly touched the woman leader. His goal wasn’t to make contact. He simply needed to gesture in her direction. “Zysh Egro Umaam.” The woman was bathed in a dark silhouette and a sudden look of panic spread across her face. Ischarus prepared his blade for when she would run.

Rhema knew that she didn’t have much time left before she would be overcome and lying helplessly on the ground beside Semeion. She wasn’t sure how tough her adversaries were, but she knew that she had been hit hard twice in a row. She mustered her mental powers and launched the most vicious mental strike that she had ever unloaded against another being. The man’s face grew immediately red as if his mind and body were suddenly under a great amount of stress. His heart rate increased so rapidly on account of the duress that the man fell of unconscious before he could even crouch down to the ground or grab his head in agony.

Charis knew that she had one of the assassins looking to do the same thing to her as he had done to Semeion. She twisted the handle of her pick once in her hand and then snapped her wrist forward. The pick sprung forward and bit into the assassin’s flesh, drawing a fair amount of red blood from the meaty part of his thigh. The assassin received the blow well and returned the solid blow with one of his own. Charis winced under the pain, but managed to shrug off the cut and blood with clenched teeth.

Ophee took a swing at the woman assassin, but her blade missed its mark. She positioned herself defensively so that if the woman would strike out again she would be prepared. She didn’t realize that Ischarus had made her afraid of him through magic.

The woman assassin fled, much like Ischarus thought that she would. His spell had convinced her to lower her defenses and move as quickly as she could. Ischarus swiped at her retreating back as she moved by, but the edge of his blade didn’t catch anything except the air as she moved away. He turned and focused on the assassin who was looking to harm Charis. He used the momentum of the turn to drive his blade home. His blade dug into the back of the assassin’s right shoulder. As he pulled his blade free, the man slumped to the ground.

Ischarus turned and made eye contact with his wife. “Rhema, stop her if you can. Don’t get too close, but use any trick you can to attack her while she’s running away!”

Rhema focused on the retreating leader and unleashed another mental strike. This blow was not as menacing as the one she had thrown up in defense a moment ago. The assassin shrieked in pain as she ran away, but Rhema’s attack was not enough to bring her to the ground. As the woman shrieked, Rhema turned to Charis. “We’ll take care of her. You check on Semeion and get him on his feet! We’ll be back for the others.”

Ischarus stowed his blade and drew his bow as he ran after the fleeing woman. He knocked an arrow and drew the string back. He stopped only for a moment to aim and fire. His arrow missed high and long, barely threatening the retreating woman.

Rhema knew that the woman was very quickly going to be out of range for both her mental strikes and Ischarus’ arrows. She charged after the woman, hoping to at least keep pace with her until Ischarus’ spell wore off. As Rhema ran, Ischarus was forced to forego firing again and run with Rhema in order to protect her in case the spell wore off.

As Charis watched her two friends charge after the female assassin, Charis suddenly became suspicious of the area around her. She rushed to Semeion’s side and checked on his wounds. She could tell that he had been hit hard, but he was in little danger of dying. She took a quick look around to make sure that there weren’t any assassins waiting for the party to split up before attacking. 

Once she was sure that she was safe for the moment, Charis dropped her pick beside her husband and removed her left glove. She knew that the magic would have worked through the leather, but she need to feel his skin after watching him fall limp to the ground. “Bondras-tol Shintar.” She stroked his hair for a few seconds until he opened his eyes and let out a light groan. Charis smiled, knowing that he would be stiff from his injuries.

While Charis had been healing her husband, Ischarus’ spell had managed to wear off. The female assassin turned around and examined the battlefield. She could see that her associates were down, but she had managed to split the party up. If she could attack Rhema and Ischarus before Charis could come to their help, there was a chance for victory still. She pivoted and charged towards Rhema and Ischarus.

Ischarus did a good job protecting Rhema and getting in the way of the charging assassin. The assassin took advantage of Ischarus’ obvious defensive positioning and made a delicate strike. Her blade caught Ischarus in the side and opened up a long gash. Several streams of blood trickled from the nine inch wound, although the blade hadn’t penetrated nearly far enough to put Ischarus in too much danger.

Ischarus returned the blow with one of his own. His blade caught the assassin across her arm and dug into the skin. The woman’s dark clothing darkened even more and clung to her skin as the cloth absorbed the flowing blood. He smiled as he realized that if they continued to simply exchange blows he would be victorious.

Rhema thought for a moment about charming the woman and trying to interrogate her in case she had any useful information regarding the meeting that was happening on the boat. However, she assumed that her mental control would have a difficult time overcoming the effects of the current battle. She opted for another mental strike and in response to the assault the woman howled in pain. The assassin dropped to one knee and hung her head for a moment.

Ischarus paused for a moment, thinking that the woman was going to surrender or fall unconscious from the mental anguish. The assassin took advantage of his hesitation and drove upwards in a desperation strike. The blade of her short sword caught Ischarus in the arm and drew blood again. The wound was far from fatal.

Ischarus twisted his blade in his hands and brought it down upon the woman. He caught her cleanly and she sprawled backwards onto the ground. Her head thumped against the stone road and she passed into unconsciousness. Ischarus stooped to her side to ensure that she was breathing before looking around for Charis.

By this time, Charis had managed to get Semeion to his feet with Ophee’s help. They were already making slow progress on their way to meet Ischarus and Rhema. When Charis saw Ischarus crouch beside the assassin and look up, she called to Rhema. “Rhema, come help Ophee bring Semeion along. He’s a little stiff from his wounds. I’ll come and make sure the assassin isn’t going to die.”

Rhema turned and sprinted to Semeion while Charis ran to Ischarus’ side. In a matter of minutes the party had managed to secure the assassins in such a way that they weren’t in danger of dying, yet they weren’t able to escape. There hadn’t been any other sign around the docks of more henchmen working for Allyssa. It seemed like getting onto the boat was soon to be the next order of business.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 8, 2007)

Ischarus turned back to his associates and brandished his sword once more.  “Alright, now it’s time to go and deal with that dock guard.  When we get through him, we’ve got Allyssa trapped on that boat.”

Ophee reached out and placed a gentle hand on Ischarus’ forearm.  “Are you sure you want to do that?  I’m willing to bet that if we approach the boat by way of the dock that he’ll be suspicious and raise the alarm.  After all, he had to have seen some of the armed conflict we just finished.”

Semeion nodded.  “She’s right, Ischarus.  He had to see something.  I’m sure that the only reason he didn’t come and investigate is because either Allyssa or her associates is paying him plenty to stand guard.  But if we come near him, he’ll no doubt sound an alarm.”

Ischarus sheathed his sword and turned back to look at the dock guard.  His back was turned to the party as he spoke softly.  “Then how do we get to Allyssa?  For all we know, she could be in there with the other followers of Yrraxea fulfilling their plan.”

Charis walked up and stood beside Ischarus.  “I agree.  We’ve faced worse odds before.  I mean, you all went after my dragon father when you guys were clearly outclassed.  And you had to keep me from betraying you on top of it.  Surely these odds aren’t as steep as that situation.”

Rhema looked to Semeion and shook her head.  It was clear who the thinkers were in the group.  It was also clear who the ones driven to action were as well.  “Did you see the four people that Allyssa was walking with?  They were priests of Yrraxea, no doubt.  I don’t know how powerful they were, but the fact that they wore those holy symbols outside their cloaks makes me think that they’ve nothing to fear from the city guard.  If they are priests – and powerful ones at that – are you sure you want to take on Allyssa right now?  Sure, maybe they’re nothing to worry about.  But there were four of them.  If even one of them is as strong as Brandt or the wizard of Eberdeen, we’d be in serious trouble.”

Ischarus turned his head away from the side of his body where Charis stood.  He spat quickly upon the ground and responded to his wife’s assertion.  “Then what do we do?  Sit here and wait?  Leave the docks with the assassins and possibly lose Allyssa into the general population of Fingerdale?”

Ophee smiled.  “What about reconnaissance?  If Allyssa doesn’t see us, she can’t really know if her assassin friends were successful.  In fact, she might not even know she was followed.”

Semeion saw the logic in Ophee’s words.  “She’s got a good point, Ischarus.  We’ve got a little window of time here where Allyssa doesn’t know if we’re alive or dead or even here.  If we can get close, we might be able to learn something without risking a direct confrontation.  And Rhema’s right, too.  If we go in there with sword and magic flying, we might be biting off more than we can chew.  But if we sneak aboard and investigate, we can be more informed.”

Ischarus sighed.  They were right.  “Very well.  Charis and I will slip onto the boat through the water in the bay.  We’ll swim up to the boat and climb up either the anchor rope or the mooring lines.”

Semeion began to object to being left out of the plan, but Rhema knew why.  “Yes, and I can certainly influence that dock guard’s senses.  He won’t hear you swimming or climbing, trust me.  Maybe if I am lucky, I can even get him to see things a little my way, too.”  Her face danced flirtatiously and she made a mock kissing motion towards Semeion, who smiled.

Charis continued where Rhema left off.  “Yeah, and Ischarus and I are the most likely to be able to get on and off without help.  If things get ugly, we’re the ones most likely to be able to survive long enough to get back into the water.  Semeion and Ophee can stay here and watch the captives.”

Semeion still wasn’t happy, but he already knew that he was outnumbered.  His objection wouldn’t really matter anyway.  “Fair enough.  But you guys are only going for reconnaissance, right?  When we go after Allyssa, I want in on the action.  I’ve got a score to settle with her.  I need to repay her for what her assassin friends just did to me.”

Charis and Ischarus grinned at each other.  Semeion wasn’t as much of a thinker as he thought.  He wanted as much of the action as they did.  When the time was right to take on Allyssa, Semeion would likely be leading the party into battle.

Ischarus nodded and turned to Rhema.  “Well, it sounds like we’ve got a plan, then.  Are you going to go and try to work your magic on the dock guard before or after we enter the water?”

Rhema studied the dock for a moment and realized how long it would take Ischarus and Charis to swim around the few boats that were moored closer in than the boat that Allyssa had entered.  “Go ahead and lose most of your gear and slip into the water.  I’ll watch you until you get past the first boat.  Then I’ll stroll up to the dock guard and make sure that I am ready for the noises of your swimming.”

Ischarus and Charis didn’t need much more encouragement.  They removed most of the gear that they were carrying.  Ischarus retained his sword while Charis kept her pick.  Everything else they left behind.  They waited for a passing cloud to cover the light of the moon and slipped over the edge of the dock and into the water.

Rhema teased her wavy brown hair and fluffed it a bit in order to give it some body.  While Charis and Ischarus tried to slip through the water as quietly as possible, Rhema took a moment to lace up her boots even tighter.  Just as she saw Ischarus and Charis manage to swim around the first boat, she decided to untie the topmost string that held the neck of her shirt closed.  Even with it untied there was nothing even remotely to be seen.  However, the untied string near her neck hinted enough to her flirtatious nature to be believable.

She walked down the dock, making sure that her low heeled boots clomped hard against the wood planking.  She didn’t have much heel, but her riding boots gave her just enough of a noise to announce her coming to anyone watching the dock.  Of course, at this time of day there were few people up and about on the docks.  Most people were either in the taverns in Fingerdale or below deck.  Rhema was only concerned with the dock guard; and as she approached she knew that she had his attention.  To add to her demeanor, she feigned a few stumbles as she approached.

The dock guard immediately rose to a heightened state of alertness as Rhema approached.  His eyes couldn’t help but admire her delicate yet well toned frame.  His hand slipped to the handle of his sword, but the action was more out of a nervous fidget than a cognitive act of defense.

She smiled as she caught his eyes with her own gaze.  Quickly she tossed her hair with a subtle movement of her head and stepped a few steps closer.  “Begging your pardon, sir, but do you happen to know where the ship from Trappersdale is docked?  I’m afraid your docks here all look alike and I’ve gotten myself a bit lost.  I’d really hate to lose that ship, too.  It’s a long walk back to the eastern coast of Fenneress.  And the thought of going through the obnoxious goodness of Barghost is only slightly more palpable than going through Quehalost, if you know what I mean.  Not only that, but I’d hate to think of what I might have to do to earn enough money for another passage by boat.  So I’ve got to find that ship.”

The dock guard shrugged his shoulders and answered with a low voice.  “Don’t know, ma’am.  I’m just paid to stand here and protect this one, not to know about other boats.  I don’t remember a boat from Fenneress coming in today.  That’s a far voyage.  We don’t get many of them through here, so I’d be sure if one arrived today.”

Rhema smiled and mocked a stumble as she drew another step closer towards the dock guard.  It was time to employ a little charm and use the knowledge that she had just received.  “Well, it has been a few days.  Of course, in a few of your taverns here the days and the nights all blend together after a while.”  She reached out a hand as if to grab the dock guard, but she was too far away.  She feigned missing his arm and stumbled two more steps toward him.  “Oh my, these docks just won’t stay still tonight.”

Rhema knew that her actions told the man that she might be under the influence of a few too many ales from a nearby tavern.  However, her words lacked the slurring that would have indicated total intoxication.  She hoped that he would interpret the mixed signals as being a bit freed by ale but not totally drunk.

Rhema could hear the subtle splashing of Ischarus and Charis as they tried to make their way towards the ship.  They were drawing near, and she could tell by the dock guard’s eyes that he was alerted to the slight noise of the swimming.  She had lost his attention for a moment as he looked to the waterline of the ship moored immediately in front of the ship that Allyssa had boarded.  It was time to use her powers of suggestion.

Rhema reached out once more to rest her hand gently on the dock guard’s forearm.  This time she was close enough to reach him, but she missed intentionally.  She faked a stumble to her right, which gave the impression that she was going to fall off the dock and into the water.  The dock guard instinctively focused on Rhema and reached out with a strong arm and caught her before she could fall.  Once she recognized that he would catch her, Rhema let go of her weight and allowed herself to naturally fall into his grasp.

The dock guard lifted Rhema back to her feet.  “Careful, miss.  Can’t be having to dive in after you should you fall in.”

Rhema leaned into the dock guard’s torso at his embrace.  “You know, you’re stronger than you look.  And a might bit faster in reflex than you look, too.  Are you smarter than average, too?”

The dock guard blushed as she leaned into him, but accepted the compliment well.  “Thank you, miss.  But I think you are being too kind.  If you are interested, though, you’re welcome to sit down on the dock where it is safe.  When I’m relieved of my duty I’ll be sure to help you find what I think you’re looking for.”

Rhema couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely sincere or trying to pass a subtle innuendo.  She continued to lean into him as she spoke once more.  He was ready for her mental suggestion.  “Don’t you just love the way the waves lightly brush against the moored boats?  Between that and the gentle sway of the dock, it’s so peaceful.”

The dock guard no longer heard the subtle swimming motions being employed by Charis and Ischarus.  Instead, his mind interpreted the noise as water lightly lapping against the large keels of the many boats around him.  A smile came across his face.  “Please, ma’am.  You’re welcome to sit and listen if you’d like.  But while I’m on duty here I need to stand guard.  You can sit beside me if you want and listen to the waves against the ships, though.  I like the way that you express it.”

Rhema allowed her body to slip gently through the arms that he had wrapped around her as she leaned into him.  She slid down until she kneeled upon the dock.  In a quick motion she flipped over into a seated position, awkwardly allowing one of the legs to flop over the side of the dock to maintain the disguise of not being in total control.  But she knew that he now heard what she wanted him to hear.  She could use her suggestive input to convince his mind that his ears were hearing something slightly different than what he actually heard.  Instead of two people lightly swimming through the water, the guard heard the light sound of water against the boats.

Rhema sat quietly until she could vaguely make out Ischarus’ form reach the thick rope that connected the heavy iron anchor to the boat.  She waited until she heard the sound of Ischarus’ body sliding up the rope and out of the water.  The sound was faint, but still detectable.  It would need to be disguised.  “Do the docks always creak as they sway?  You’re sure they are safe?”

The dock guard looked down to Rhema.  “They’re unusually noisy tonight, miss.  But I assure you that they’re safe.  They’ve stood for many years, and they’ll stand for many more.”

Rhema smiled as her suggestion masked the climbing noises in the dock guard’s ears.  It wasn’t long before Ischarus and Charis had managed to climb unnoticed onto the moored boat.  She decided to stay at the dock guard’s feet as long as she could without arousing suspicion.  Ischarus and Charis might need their noise disguised again before the night was over.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus turned back to his associates and brandished his sword once more. “Alright, now it’s time to go and deal with that dock guard. When we get through him, we’ve got Allyssa trapped on that boat.”

Ophee reached out and placed a gentle hand on Ischarus’ forearm. “Are you sure you want to do that? I’m willing to bet that if we approach the boat by way of the dock that he’ll be suspicious and raise the alarm. After all, he had to have seen some of the armed conflict we just finished.”

Semeion nodded. “She’s right, Ischarus. He had to see something. I’m sure that the only reason he didn’t come and investigate is because either Allyssa or her associates is paying him plenty to stand guard. But if we come near him, he’ll no doubt sound an alarm.”

Ischarus sheathed his sword and turned back to look at the dock guard. His back was turned to the party as he spoke softly. “Then how do we get to Allyssa? For all we know, she could be in there with the other followers of Yrraxea fulfilling their plan.”

Charis walked up and stood beside Ischarus. “I agree. We’ve faced worse odds before. I mean, you all went after my dragon father when you guys were clearly outclassed. And you had to keep me from betraying you on top of it. Surely these odds aren’t as steep as that situation.”

Rhema looked to Semeion and shook her head. It was clear who the thinkers were in the group. It was also clear who the ones driven to action were as well. “Did you see the four people that Allyssa was walking with? They were priests of Yrraxea, no doubt. I don’t know how powerful they were, but the fact that they wore those holy symbols outside their cloaks makes me think that they’ve nothing to fear from the city guard. If they are priests – and powerful ones at that – are you sure you want to take on Allyssa right now? Sure, maybe they’re nothing to worry about. But there were four of them. If even one of them is as strong as Brandt or the wizard of Eberdeen, we’d be in serious trouble.”

Ischarus turned his head away from the side of his body where Charis stood. He spat quickly upon the ground and responded to his wife’s assertion. “Then what do we do? Sit here and wait? Leave the docks with the assassins and possibly lose Allyssa into the general population of Fingerdale?”

Ophee smiled. “What about reconnaissance? If Allyssa doesn’t see us, she can’t really know if her assassin friends were successful. In fact, she might not even know she was followed.”

Semeion saw the logic in Ophee’s words. “She’s got a good point, Ischarus. We’ve got a little window of time here where Allyssa doesn’t know if we’re alive or dead or even here. If we can get close, we might be able to learn something without risking a direct confrontation. And Rhema’s right, too. If we go in there with sword and magic flying, we might be biting off more than we can chew. But if we sneak aboard and investigate, we can be more informed.”

Ischarus sighed. They were right. “Very well. Charis and I will slip onto the boat through the water in the bay. We’ll swim up to the boat and climb up either the anchor rope or the mooring lines.”

Semeion began to object to being left out of the plan, but Rhema knew why. “Yes, and I can certainly influence that dock guard’s senses. He won’t hear you swimming or climbing, trust me. Maybe if I am lucky, I can even get him to see things a little my way, too.” Her face danced flirtatiously and she made a mock kissing motion towards Semeion, who smiled.

Charis continued where Rhema left off. “Yeah, and Ischarus and I are the most likely to be able to get on and off without help. If things get ugly, we’re the ones most likely to be able to survive long enough to get back into the water. Semeion and Ophee can stay here and watch the captives.”

Semeion still wasn’t happy, but he already knew that he was outnumbered. His objection wouldn’t really matter anyway. “Fair enough. But you guys are only going for reconnaissance, right? When we go after Allyssa, I want in on the action. I’ve got a score to settle with her. I need to repay her for what her assassin friends just did to me.”

Charis and Ischarus grinned at each other. Semeion wasn’t as much of a thinker as he thought. He wanted as much of the action as they did. When the time was right to take on Allyssa, Semeion would likely be leading the party into battle.

Ischarus nodded and turned to Rhema. “Well, it sounds like we’ve got a plan, then. Are you going to go and try to work your magic on the dock guard before or after we enter the water?”

Rhema studied the dock for a moment and realized how long it would take Ischarus and Charis to swim around the few boats that were moored closer in than the boat that Allyssa had entered. “Go ahead and lose most of your gear and slip into the water. I’ll watch you until you get past the first boat. Then I’ll stroll up to the dock guard and make sure that I am ready for the noises of your swimming.”

Ischarus and Charis didn’t need much more encouragement. They removed most of the gear that they were carrying. Ischarus retained his sword while Charis kept her pick. Everything else they left behind. They waited for a passing cloud to cover the light of the moon and slipped over the edge of the dock and into the water.

Rhema teased her wavy brown hair and fluffed it a bit in order to give it some body. While Charis and Ischarus tried to slip through the water as quietly as possible, Rhema took a moment to lace up her boots even tighter. Just as she saw Ischarus and Charis manage to swim around the first boat, she decided to untie the topmost string that held the neck of her shirt closed. Even with it untied there was nothing even remotely to be seen. However, the untied string near her neck hinted enough to her flirtatious nature to be believable.

She walked down the dock, making sure that her low heeled boots clomped hard against the wood planking. She didn’t have much heel, but her riding boots gave her just enough of a noise to announce her coming to anyone watching the dock. Of course, at this time of day there were few people up and about on the docks. Most people were either in the taverns in Fingerdale or below deck. Rhema was only concerned with the dock guard; and as she approached she knew that she had his attention. To add to her demeanor, she feigned a few stumbles as she approached.

The dock guard immediately rose to a heightened state of alertness as Rhema approached. His eyes couldn’t help but admire her delicate yet well toned frame. His hand slipped to the handle of his sword, but the action was more out of a nervous fidget than a cognitive act of defense.

She smiled as she caught his eyes with her own gaze. Quickly she tossed her hair with a subtle movement of her head and stepped a few steps closer. “Begging your pardon, sir, but do you happen to know where the ship from Trappersdale is docked? I’m afraid your docks here all look alike and I’ve gotten myself a bit lost. I’d really hate to lose that ship, too. It’s a long walk back to the eastern coast of Fenneress. And the thought of going through the obnoxious goodness of Barghost is only slightly more palpable than going through Quehalost, if you know what I mean. Not only that, but I’d hate to think of what I might have to do to earn enough money for another passage by boat. So I’ve got to find that ship.”

The dock guard shrugged his shoulders and answered with a low voice. “Don’t know, ma’am. I’m just paid to stand here and protect this one, not to know about other boats. I don’t remember a boat from Fenneress coming in today. That’s a far voyage. We don’t get many of them through here, so I’d be sure if one arrived today.”

Rhema smiled and mocked a stumble as she drew another step closer towards the dock guard. It was time to employ a little charm and use the knowledge that she had just received. “Well, it has been a few days. Of course, in a few of your taverns here the days and the nights all blend together after a while.” She reached out a hand as if to grab the dock guard, but she was too far away. She feigned missing his arm and stumbled two more steps toward him. “Oh my, these docks just won’t stay still tonight.”

Rhema knew that her actions told the man that she might be under the influence of a few too many ales from a nearby tavern. However, her words lacked the slurring that would have indicated total intoxication. She hoped that he would interpret the mixed signals as being a bit freed by ale but not totally drunk.

Rhema could hear the subtle splashing of Ischarus and Charis as they tried to make their way towards the ship. They were drawing near, and she could tell by the dock guard’s eyes that he was alerted to the slight noise of the swimming. She had lost his attention for a moment as he looked to the waterline of the ship moored immediately in front of the ship that Allyssa had boarded. It was time to use her powers of suggestion.

Rhema reached out once more to rest her hand gently on the dock guard’s forearm. This time she was close enough to reach him, but she missed intentionally. She faked a stumble to her right, which gave the impression that she was going to fall off the dock and into the water. The dock guard instinctively focused on Rhema and reached out with a strong arm and caught her before she could fall. Once she recognized that he would catch her, Rhema let go of her weight and allowed herself to naturally fall into his grasp.

The dock guard lifted Rhema back to her feet. “Careful, miss. Can’t be having to dive in after you should you fall in.”

Rhema leaned into the dock guard’s torso at his embrace. “You know, you’re stronger than you look. And a might bit faster in reflex than you look, too. Are you smarter than average, too?”

The dock guard blushed as she leaned into him, but accepted the compliment well. “Thank you, miss. But I think you are being too kind. If you are interested, though, you’re welcome to sit down on the dock where it is safe. When I’m relieved of my duty I’ll be sure to help you find what I think you’re looking for.”

Rhema couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely sincere or trying to pass a subtle innuendo. She continued to lean into him as she spoke once more. He was ready for her mental suggestion. “Don’t you just love the way the waves lightly brush against the moored boats? Between that and the gentle sway of the dock, it’s so peaceful.”

The dock guard no longer heard the subtle swimming motions being employed by Charis and Ischarus. Instead, his mind interpreted the noise as water lightly lapping against the large keels of the many boats around him. A smile came across his face. “Please, ma’am. You’re welcome to sit and listen if you’d like. But while I’m on duty here I need to stand guard. You can sit beside me if you want and listen to the waves against the ships, though. I like the way that you express it.”

Rhema allowed her body to slip gently through the arms that he had wrapped around her as she leaned into him. She slid down until she kneeled upon the dock. In a quick motion she flipped over into a seated position, awkwardly allowing one of the legs to flop over the side of the dock to maintain the disguise of not being in total control. But she knew that he now heard what she wanted him to hear. She could use her suggestive input to convince his mind that his ears were hearing something slightly different than what he actually heard. Instead of two people lightly swimming through the water, the guard heard the light sound of water against the boats.

Rhema sat quietly until she could vaguely make out Ischarus’ form reach the thick rope that connected the heavy iron anchor to the boat. She waited until she heard the sound of Ischarus’ body sliding up the rope and out of the water. The sound was faint, but still detectable. It would need to be disguised. “Do the docks always creak as they sway? You’re sure they are safe?”

The dock guard looked down to Rhema. “They’re unusually noisy tonight, miss. But I assure you that they’re safe. They’ve stood for many years, and they’ll stand for many more.”

Rhema smiled as her suggestion masked the climbing noises in the dock guard’s ears. It wasn’t long before Ischarus and Charis had managed to climb unnoticed onto the moored boat. She decided to stay at the dock guard’s feet as long as she could without arousing suspicion. Ischarus and Charis might need their noise disguised again before the night was over.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 11, 2007)

Once Ischarus and Charis managed to climb up the heavy anchor rope, they quickly took an inventory of the ocean worthy ship and stuck close to the outside rail.  There was enough moonlight and starlight available that the rail provided a thin area of shadow in which they could crouch.  Their movement along the rail was slow, but as wet as they were they were grateful for the need to move slowly and steadily.

They could tell from when they were in the water that this ship was a frigate.  A second fighting deck rose above the first, and its sidewalls had been reinforced against the ramming tactics of the western pirates.  On their way up the anchor rope they discovered several plugs in the mid-ship sidewall that could be removed.  Spikes would be fastened through the holes made by removing the plugs.  These spikes ensured that any ship which attempted to ram it would have its own hull punctured badly.  Many of the punctures would be above the waterline, but in rough seas they would be deadly enough.

The top deck was nearly empty, and this was no surprise for an anchored ship with a posted dock guard.  Two additional guards stood near the archway that led to the steps below deck.  Neither of these guards wore the clerical robes of the men they had seen walking with Allyssa earlier.  Their simple leather told Ischarus and Charis that they were simple sailors pulling a duty shift in port.

The guards still wore their eye patches; it hadn’t been so long since the sun had been lighting the sky.  Ischarus spoke quietly to Charis.  “Those eye patches might give them an edge in the dark light.  If they slide them over so that they cover the exposed eye, the eye that is covered now will already have perfect night vision.”

Charis smiled.  “Good thing that our dragon heritage enables us to have better than average vision in poorly lit conditions, then.”

Ischarus spoke as though he was in thought.  “Yeah, but we don’t know about them.  They could have a lineage like ours or from an elf.  Then they would then have the same benefit.  At least we know that they don’t have the subterranean vision that enables them to see perfectly in the dark.  If they had that, they wouldn’t need the eye patches at all.”

Charis continued to whisper in Ischarus’ direction.  “What are we going to do about them?”  She nodded in the direction of the two guards.  “Too much noise and we alert the dock guard.  Or worse, too much noise and we alert Allyssa and her associates.”

Ischarus smiled.  “I wouldn’t worry about Allyssa below.  This is a big ship, and I can’t imagine that they’ll be meeting right under the staircase.  The creaking of the wood, the narrow passageway below, and the many storage areas below will mask the sounds of battle.  As for the dock guard, hopefully Rhema can continue to handle him.”

The guards suddenly looked in their direction, causing Ischarus and Charis to freeze in the shadow of the ship’s rail.  They had talked enough, and it almost led to giving up their cover.  Ischarus quickly looked at the shadows lying across the ship.  There was no means of getting to the stairway without stepping into the moonlight.  They could crawl a bit closer, but eventually they would need to leave the cover of the railing.

He turned to Charis once the guards had lost interest in their direction.  When she drew near to him he whispered.  “Take a good long look in the direction of the guards.  I’m going to make it difficult on them and us in a few seconds.”

Charis immediately glanced in the direction of the staircase and counted strides.  She knew it would only be about five running strides to meet them in combat.  She listened to the steady barrage of waves lapping at the ship’s hull and used one to disguise her response.  “Fine.”

Ischarus lifted his right hand and pointed towards the guards.  He was careful to keep his arm tight against his body and in the shadows.  “Ehoim nuan Egro.”  An eerie vapor centered on the staircase began to lift off of the deck.  Within seconds both of the guards were covered in the thick mist.

Ischarus heard Charis chanting once the mist rose up from the deck.  “Meion Shintar.”  She could feel the magic flow through her chest and arms.  Her strength increased, and she could feel her ability to give a precise blow with her pick augment as well.  She stood and began to lightly charge into the mist.  She quickly felt her way through the mist in her mind rather than trust her eyes.

Ischarus was not about to be outdone in the magical realm.  He cast his own spell, although the subject of his spell was his sword.  “Thin Zecka Egro.”  Thin sparks of electricity shot from the fingers of his left hand and into the steel blade.  The long sword danced with bright energy as Ischarus followed Charis into the thick vapor.  He assumed that Charis would strike a blow against the guard on the left, so in his mind he imagined a path that would allow him to converge on the rightmost guard.

The guards immediately drew their swords at the appearance of the magical mist.  The guard on the right spoke quickly.  “Is this ship haunted?  First we hear ghostly whispering from the rails and now the mist.”

The guard on the left offered a more rational thought.  “Calm yourself, Jehoi.  I’d rather face an odd mist caused by the winds along the harbor than the wrath of Tindrahk below.  Stay steady.  The mist will pass eventually.  There is enough wind to keep it from lingering.”

The guard’s speech masked the delicate footsteps of Charis and Ischarus until it was too late.  As if they were specters emerging from another dimension, Charis and Ischarus broke through the mist on target.  Rall, the guard on the left, was caught unprepared.  His sword offered up no protection as he watched Charis materialize before him.  He saw her muscular arms swing the pick and drive it deep into his side.  He let out a cry, which Charis quickly muffled with her left hand.

Jehoi heard the sound of Charis’ pick solidly strike his companion and nearly dropped his sword.  To his own amazement, a man strode out of the mist towards him with a ghostly blue sword.  The sword danced with energy as if it had a life of its own.  The mist reflected the blue energy dancing along Ischarus’ sword back onto his face.  Ischarus seemed to glow as if he were an apparition.

Ischarus’ sword sliced through the fog before Jehoi could raise a defense.  The blade dug into Jehoi’s arm as the blue electricity jumped from the blade into Jehoi.  The guard’s eyes opened wide as he jumped backwards from the shock.  A loud electrical snap echoed across the harbor for several seconds as the discharge left the blade and entered Jehoi.

Charis managed to land another swing as Rall struggled against Charis’ left hand.  His nose was free, so he was in little danger of suffocation.  Charis used her position to bring the end of her pick upward into his torso.  The blow was designed to puncture his gut and leave his heart and lungs unharmed.  The force of the blow was enough to knock the wind out of him and he crumpled to the deck.

Ischarus emerged through the mist just in time to see him fall.  “He’s still alive?”

Charis shook her head confidently.  “Oh yeah.  He’s still alive.  He’ll recover in a few minutes or so, although the wound to his midsection will likely hurt for a while.  What about yours?”

Ischarus smiled.  “I think that the guard I struck would’ve wet himself if we would have left him alone in the mist long enough.  He was already terrified.  He went down easily enough.  I’m pretty sure he’s down and out, but not dead.”  He closed his eyes for a moment and released the magical control that he held over the mist.  As quickly as the mist had come, it vanished by rising into the air.

The two guards were easily bound and gagged in their unconscious state.  Charis and Ischarus carried their bodies to the rail near the anchor rope that they had used to gain entrance to the frigate.  They pulled the unconscious men away from the stairway in case they revived before Charis and Ischarus were finished below deck.

Charis reached out and touched the wound on Rall’s abdomen.  “Should I heal him?”

Ischarus looked at Rall for several seconds.  He had seen Charis heal wounds enough to know that healing him would likely revive him immediately.  “Is he in danger of dying in the next hour?”

Charis shook her head.  “No.  He might die in a few days if he doesn’t get it treated.  Infection will inevitably set in.  But the wound itself won’t be enough to kill him, at least not tonight.”

Ischarus turned back to the staircase.  “Then leave him.  We’ll have to come back this way, anyway.  If you want to heal him on our way out, that’s fine with me.”

Charis nodded.  “Well, let’s hope that things go well below.  Shall we?”

Ischarus nodded.  “Yeah.  Let’s head below deck.  And be careful.  There might be guards below deck, too.  We’ll be entering the stairs blind, and most ships don’t give the staircase much protection.  If there are guards below, we’ll have to think fast.”

Charis grinned.  “Quickly and quietly, then?”

As the two approached the staircase, Rhema sat below the dock guard, still acting as though under the influence of ale.  She was still concentrating on making sure the dock guard’s senses were under her subjective control.  “That was a brief crack of thunder.  It doesn’t feel much like rain, though.  You guys get surprise storms from the ocean here?”

The dock guard turned back to the woman at his feet and smiled.  “We do get some storms, but the weather isn’t right for that.  It must have been something weird in the sky.  In the summers we get what I call heat lightning.  But it isn’t hot enough for that tonight.”

Rhema shrugged her shoulders and feigned almost falling off of the edge of the dock once more.  As the guard put out his left hand to catch her shoulder and steady her body, Rhema spoke.  “Oh well.  So long as it doesn’t rain.  This is the only pair of dry clothes I have.  I’d hate to have to sleep in wet clothes tonight on the boat.  Once I find it, that is.  I do hope it hasn’t left the harbor without me.”

The guard smiled, his thoughts taking him elsewhere in his mind.  “Well, it doesn’t feel like rain.  It must have just been a rogue lightning strike.”

Of course, Rhema knew that the noise of electricity was much to quiet to be a lightning strike.  But her control over the guard’s sense confused his perception.  He was none the wiser about the battle that had taken place on board.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Once Ischarus and Charis managed to climb up the heavy anchor rope, they quickly took an inventory of the ocean worthy ship and stuck close to the outside rail. There was enough moonlight and starlight available that the rail provided a thin area of shadow in which they could crouch. Their movement along the rail was slow, but as wet as they were they were grateful for the need to move slowly and steadily.

They could tell from when they were in the water that this ship was a frigate. A second fighting deck rose above the first, and its sidewalls had been reinforced against the ramming tactics of the western pirates. On their way up the anchor rope they discovered several plugs in the mid-ship sidewall that could be removed. Spikes would be fastened through the holes made by removing the plugs. These spikes ensured that any ship which attempted to ram it would have its own hull punctured badly. Many of the punctures would be above the waterline, but in rough seas they would be deadly enough.

The top deck was nearly empty, and this was no surprise for an anchored ship with a posted dock guard. Two additional guards stood near the archway that led to the steps below deck. Neither of these guards wore the clerical robes of the men they had seen walking with Allyssa earlier. Their simple leather told Ischarus and Charis that they were simple sailors pulling a duty shift in port.

The guards still wore their eye patches; it hadn’t been so long since the sun had been lighting the sky. Ischarus spoke quietly to Charis. “Those eye patches might give them an edge in the dark light. If they slide them over so that they cover the exposed eye, the eye that is covered now will already have perfect night vision.”

Charis smiled. “Good thing that our dragon heritage enables us to have better than average vision in poorly lit conditions, then.”

Ischarus spoke as though he was in thought. “Yeah, but we don’t know about them. They could have a lineage like ours or from an elf. Then they would then have the same benefit. At least we know that they don’t have the subterranean vision that enables them to see perfectly in the dark. If they had that, they wouldn’t need the eye patches at all.”

Charis continued to whisper in Ischarus’ direction. “What are we going to do about them?” She nodded in the direction of the two guards. “Too much noise and we alert the dock guard. Or worse, too much noise and we alert Allyssa and her associates.”

Ischarus smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about Allyssa below. This is a big ship, and I can’t imagine that they’ll be meeting right under the staircase. The creaking of the wood, the narrow passageway below, and the many storage areas below will mask the sounds of battle. As for the dock guard, hopefully Rhema can continue to handle him.”

The guards suddenly looked in their direction, causing Ischarus and Charis to freeze in the shadow of the ship’s rail. They had talked enough, and it almost led to giving up their cover. Ischarus quickly looked at the shadows lying across the ship. There was no means of getting to the stairway without stepping into the moonlight. They could crawl a bit closer, but eventually they would need to leave the cover of the railing.

He turned to Charis once the guards had lost interest in their direction. When she drew near to him he whispered. “Take a good long look in the direction of the guards. I’m going to make it difficult on them and us in a few seconds.”

Charis immediately glanced in the direction of the staircase and counted strides. She knew it would only be about five running strides to meet them in combat. She listened to the steady barrage of waves lapping at the ship’s hull and used one to disguise her response. “Fine.”

Ischarus lifted his right hand and pointed towards the guards. He was careful to keep his arm tight against his body and in the shadows. “Ehoim nuan Egro.” An eerie vapor centered on the staircase began to lift off of the deck. Within seconds both of the guards were covered in the thick mist.

Ischarus heard Charis chanting once the mist rose up from the deck. “Meion Shintar.” She could feel the magic flow through her chest and arms. Her strength increased, and she could feel her ability to give a precise blow with her pick augment as well. She stood and began to lightly charge into the mist. She quickly felt her way through the mist in her mind rather than trust her eyes.

Ischarus was not about to be outdone in the magical realm. He cast his own spell, although the subject of his spell was his sword. “Thin Zecka Egro.” Thin sparks of electricity shot from the fingers of his left hand and into the steel blade. The long sword danced with bright energy as Ischarus followed Charis into the thick vapor. He assumed that Charis would strike a blow against the guard on the left, so in his mind he imagined a path that would allow him to converge on the rightmost guard.

The guards immediately drew their swords at the appearance of the magical mist. The guard on the right spoke quickly. “Is this ship haunted? First we hear ghostly whispering from the rails and now the mist.”

The guard on the left offered a more rational thought. “Calm yourself, Jehoi. I’d rather face an odd mist caused by the winds along the harbor than the wrath of Tindrahk below. Stay steady. The mist will pass eventually. There is enough wind to keep it from lingering.”

The guard’s speech masked the delicate footsteps of Charis and Ischarus until it was too late. As if they were specters emerging from another dimension, Charis and Ischarus broke through the mist on target. Rall, the guard on the left, was caught unprepared. His sword offered up no protection as he watched Charis materialize before him. He saw her muscular arms swing the pick and drive it deep into his side. He let out a cry, which Charis quickly muffled with her left hand.

Jehoi heard the sound of Charis’ pick solidly strike his companion and nearly dropped his sword. To his own amazement, a man strode out of the mist towards him with a ghostly blue sword. The sword danced with energy as if it had a life of its own. The mist reflected the blue energy dancing along Ischarus’ sword back onto his face. Ischarus seemed to glow as if he were an apparition.

Ischarus’ sword sliced through the fog before Jehoi could raise a defense. The blade dug into Jehoi’s arm as the blue electricity jumped from the blade into Jehoi. The guard’s eyes opened wide as he jumped backwards from the shock. A loud electrical snap echoed across the harbor for several seconds as the discharge left the blade and entered Jehoi.

Charis managed to land another swing as Rall struggled against Charis’ left hand. His nose was free, so he was in little danger of suffocation. Charis used her position to bring the end of her pick upward into his torso. The blow was designed to puncture his gut and leave his heart and lungs unharmed. The force of the blow was enough to knock the wind out of him and he crumpled to the deck.

Ischarus emerged through the mist just in time to see him fall. “He’s still alive?”

Charis shook her head confidently. “Oh yeah. He’s still alive. He’ll recover in a few minutes or so, although the wound to his midsection will likely hurt for a while. What about yours?”

Ischarus smiled. “I think that the guard I struck would’ve wet himself if we would have left him alone in the mist long enough. He was already terrified. He went down easily enough. I’m pretty sure he’s down and out, but not dead.” He closed his eyes for a moment and released the magical control that he held over the mist. As quickly as the mist had come, it vanished by rising into the air.

The two guards were easily bound and gagged in their unconscious state. Charis and Ischarus carried their bodies to the rail near the anchor rope that they had used to gain entrance to the frigate. They pulled the unconscious men away from the stairway in case they revived before Charis and Ischarus were finished below deck.

Charis reached out and touched the wound on Rall’s abdomen. “Should I heal him?”

Ischarus looked at Rall for several seconds. He had seen Charis heal wounds enough to know that healing him would likely revive him immediately. “Is he in danger of dying in the next hour?”

Charis shook her head. “No. He might die in a few days if he doesn’t get it treated. Infection will inevitably set in. But the wound itself won’t be enough to kill him, at least not tonight.”

Ischarus turned back to the staircase. “Then leave him. We’ll have to come back this way, anyway. If you want to heal him on our way out, that’s fine with me.”

Charis nodded. “Well, let’s hope that things go well below. Shall we?”

Ischarus nodded. “Yeah. Let’s head below deck. And be careful. There might be guards below deck, too. We’ll be entering the stairs blind, and most ships don’t give the staircase much protection. If there are guards below, we’ll have to think fast.”

Charis grinned. “Quickly and quietly, then?”

As the two approached the staircase, Rhema sat below the dock guard, still acting as though under the influence of ale. She was still concentrating on making sure the dock guard’s senses were under her subjective control. “That was a brief crack of thunder. It doesn’t feel much like rain, though. You guys get surprise storms from the ocean here?”

The dock guard turned back to the woman at his feet and smiled. “We do get some storms, but the weather isn’t right for that. It must have been something weird in the sky. In the summers we get what I call heat lightning. But it isn’t hot enough for that tonight.”

Rhema shrugged her shoulders and feigned almost falling off of the edge of the dock once more. As the guard put out his left hand to catch her shoulder and steady her body, Rhema spoke. “Oh well. So long as it doesn’t rain. This is the only pair of dry clothes I have. I’d hate to have to sleep in wet clothes tonight on the boat. Once I find it, that is. I do hope it hasn’t left the harbor without me.”

The guard smiled, his thoughts taking him elsewhere in his mind. “Well, it doesn’t feel like rain. It must have just been a rogue lightning strike.”

Of course, Rhema knew that the noise of electricity was much to quiet to be a lightning strike. But her control over the guard’s sense confused his perception. He was none the wiser about the battle that had taken place on board.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 14, 2007)

Ischarus and Charis quietly crept down the stairs.  They were careful to walk only where the steps joined with the wall.  The immediate support of the wall would minimize any squeaking or groaning protests that the bare wooden steps might offer.  It didn’t take either of them long to leave the open air and descend to the first level below deck.

Ischarus bent low while he was several steps above the floor below the top deck.  In effect, he was looking down the ship’s main hallway from just below the ceiling.  “It appears to be clear.  Perhaps they gave the crew the night off, thinking that the dock guard and the sentries above would be enough.  It doesn’t seem right, though.  Allyssa knew that we were alive.  That’s got to be why she left the surprise just before the docks.  She had to know that we would come after her.  If she knew that we were coming, why such a lightly protected boat?”

Charis whispered in return.  “True, but she’d assume that the assassins would have stopped us.  They were a tough fight given that they surprised us.  Besides, if she’s trying to keep herself and her faith a secret, I’d imagine that posting too many redundant guards would only draw attention from the dock master.  At some point she has to assume that we aren’t going to make it this far without her knowing about it.”

Ischarus nodded and finished descending the staircase.  The hallway was straight, and it appeared that the captain’s quarters were the room at which the hallway terminated on the far end.  Just before the captain’s quarters on the right, there was another doorway leading to a staircase descending to the ship’s main storage area.  Opposite the hall from that staircase was a door that was closed tight.  The rest of the rooms on the ship only had archways and curtains as a means of keeping privacy.

This was the first time in Charis’ life that she was aboard ship.  “Surely there is more crew aboard ship than the archways indicate.”

Ischarus smiled and suppressed the urge to laugh.  “Life aboard ship is never dull, and unless you are the captain it is also never private.  These sleeping quarters are most likely housing hammocks floor to ceiling.  Of course, they’re never full at any one time because on the seas there is always a watch.  But yeah, there are many fewer rooms than actual sailors.  At that’s assuming that this is a legitimate merchant ship.  If this is a ship involved in piracy or smuggling, it’ll have more sailor than that.  After all, you’ve got to sail with enough people so that if you lose a bunch in a boarding party you can still set watches afterward.”

Charis grinned.  “And commandeer the new ship for sale in a nearby harbor, no doubt.”

Ischarus shook his head in the negative.  “Perhaps, but highly unlikely.  After a battle, a good bit of the boarded ship’s hull would be torn apart from the ramming process.  If so, it would only slow the smuggling vessel down.  Not only that, but if it is a local boat, there is a chance that the dock master might recognize that the ship is no longer under the proper administration.  Only if it is seaworthy enough and the captain has enough sailors under him that he can trust will a prize crew be established.”

Charis found this aspect of life fascinating.  Life at the seas would certainly be much different than her old life in Quehalost or even her new life at Iasho’s villa in Huetown.  “So we want the closed door at the end of the hall?”

Ischarus nodded as he moved down the hallway.  He didn’t want to risk speaking any further.  Charis followed him as quietly as she could.  Their lack of equipment certainly made it easier to sneak around the ship.  The subtle swaying of the boat didn’t make it easy to remain quiet, however.

Less than a minute later, Ischarus and Charis flanked the closed door.  Ischarus crouched to the right of the door in the slight depression made by the doorway into the captain’s quarters.  Charis knelt on the opposite side.  They each remained quiet as they listened to the conversation from inside the closed door.

A female was speaking, but it was not the voice of Allyssa.  “You are no doubt aware that we have lost contact with your master?  We have not received direction from Ankh-Bahl recently.  Your master was chosen to be her mouthpiece.”

Allyssa responded.  “Yes, Barrie.  I am aware of this fact.  While the lack of direction at this crucial time bothers me, it does not have me concerned.  We have a job to do, and we will accomplish it.”

A deep male voice followed up Allyssa’s comment.  “Good.  I am glad to hear that you still intend on fulfilling your calling.  With the disappearance of Opheiluka, this post was in jeopardy for several days.  That is, of course, why we were sent here.  If your master was unable to arrange for a replacement, we were going to find a new way to accomplish the plan.”

A second male voice continued the explanation of the first.  “Yes, Gallahn.  That much is obvious.  But assuming that Allyssa can fulfill the desires of the Egoist and the Queen of Avarice herself, there is little need for concern and overanalyzing the situation.”

The sound of a chair sliding backwards across a wooden plank floor echoed down the ship’s hallway.  Gallahn’s voice responded quickly to the one who had followed his speech.  “Yes, Tindrahk.  If you are satisfied with the wizard’s solution in Allyssa then I will offer no complaint.  After all, you are the one who received word from the Egoist to expect Ankh-Bahl.”

Another third male voice spoke, and this voice was easily the highest voice in pitch of the three men.  “If we can assume that Allyssa will fulfill her destiny, what of the rest of the plan?  Ankh-Bahl’s silence is a foreboding omen.  When I tried to contact Yrraxea this afternoon for assurance, I was unable to make contact.  Her fury was acting as a barrier to my appeal.  She is not pleased with our efforts.”

Barrie spoke, and it was clear with her tone that she was speaking through a smile and enjoying the opportunity to poke an insult at the man who had just spoken.  “Tahnet, you always worry!  And your attempts to contact Yrraxea seldom work the way you want them to anyway.  Would you have us stop with the plan because your faith isn’t strong enough to reach out to our queen?”

Ischarus and Charis smiled as they heard Tahnet’s fist slam down on the table.  “You will insult me once more?  Remember your rank!  When I rise in power, it is you who will need to fall.”

Tindrahk let a loud laugh flood over the argument in order to drown out the discussion.  “Priest and priestess, if you will listen to me and my dominant rank.  Yrraxea is pleased at your devotion to personal gain, even at the expense of each other’s dominance.  Your fighting keeps you sharp.  But this is not the time for fighting.  We are in hostile territory.  This port is a stronghold for Reah, and geographically speaking we are not that far from Barghost.  While your arguments are entertaining, let us remember that here in this place we are not each other’s enemy.  There are greater enemies that we must concern ourselves with first.”

Allyssa continued with the argument as Tindrahk paused.  “Such as the pests who ransacked my apartment this morning.  My master was supposed to deal with them.  I do not doubt Ankh-Bahl’s ability to plan and deceive, but for a demonic assassin I was hoping that she would have dealt with this problem already.  To leave it up to us is disgraceful.  Fortunately, you brought along enough minions to take care of them.”

Gallahn again countered Allyssa’s assertion.  “Deal with them?  You are sure that there was a battle?”

A subtle pause in the conversation carried an eerie silence down the hallway.  Ischarus and Charis both fought the urge to flee as the conversation completely died out while speaking about the party.  The only thing that gave Ischarus and Charis the ability to stay put was the lack of footsteps pounding the wooden floor in the direction of the closed door.

After several long seconds, Allyssa’s voice broke the silence.  “You mean that you did not spot them watching us as we boarded the boat?”

Gallahn responded intensely.  “You mean to imply that you did?  Why did you say nothing?  Tindrahk and I alone could have used Yrraxea’s power right then and there to defeat them!  Then we could act in complete confidence!”

Another pause followed, but this one was not quite so long.  Once more, Allyssa broke the silence.  “You would use your dark powers out in the open?  And then what would you do?  Were you not listening to Tindrahk a moment ago?  The town of Fingerdale is a den of followers of Reah.  There temple is strong here, and their priests are in command of significant power because the faith of the people is strong.  If you would have called upon the powers of Yrraxea out in the public, you would have doomed our plan!  If anyone would have observed the act, the priests of Reah would be alerted, and we would have immediately risen to the spot of primary suspect regarding the death of Lord Ironblood.  Use your powers in the open and you doom us all.”

A slight growl seemed to escape Allyssa’s throat as she turned her speech to the leader of the priests of Yrraxea.  “Tindrahk, perhaps Barrie should not descend down as Tahnet suggests.  Perhaps Barrie should ascend and take the place of Gallahn.  Your second shows little ability to understand his impact in the world.  While I could care less for his personal gain or safety, the fact that his rashness could impact my standing displeases me.”

Tindrahk was now in an awkward place.  Allyssa had called upon him to either support her claim or denounce her assertiveness.  He knew that her argument was correct, but if he chastised Gallahn he would be lending credence to Allyssa’s assertion that Barrie should rise in power.  The two were not necessarily as connected as they should be.  Gallahn was being rash, but Allyssa seemed to have a vendetta against Gallahn that he could not ignore.

Instead, he refused to allow himself to become triangulated in between his loyal followers.  Instead, he would chastise Allyssa.  His chair scraped backwards as he rose to a standing position.  He thumped the table hard with his hand and there was anger in his voice.  “Know your place, assassin.  Do not attempt to come between me and those who have sworn loyalty to Yrraxea underneath my temple in Tongra.  You will not inflate egos where they should not be inflated for the purpose of fueling your own vendetta against my second.  Gallahn and Barrie are good servants, and they serve where they serve for a reason.  I will not allow the field assassin of another Yrraxean to drive a nail of jealousy into my command.  They will settle their own hierarchy issues without your envious influence.”

Another uncomfortable pause followed.  Gallahn, Barrie, and Tahnet were not about to speak while their own master was caught in the rage.  Allyssa was also not about to respond and risk feeling the great wrath of an Yrraxean high priest.  Instead, it was Tindrahk who continued the conversation.

As he continued to speak, the anger diffused out of his voice.  “Gallahn, she is right.  Your action would have been rash.  Your devotion and desire is commendable, but your lack of tactics would certainly have doomed us all.  Learn the lesson that you have been taught.  As for you, Allyssa, just do your job.  Kill Lord Ironblood at the appointed time.  And do it with the Ephistaemi daggers as planned.”

Outside the room, Ischarus and Charis exchanged confused glances.  The Yrraxeans were using Ephistaemi daggers in their actions.  That sentence echoed back to the information gleaned from the wizard of Eberdeen.  That information took their minds back to the smoldering remains of the villa in Huetown.

Tahnet was not about to let his name continue in the shame that Barrie had cast it.  “And what of this party?  Your master brought them into the plan by requiring them to go to Quehalost for the Arum Dracunculus.  The drug was necessary so that the Yrraxeans would not be doing the killing and leaving a trace behind in many places.  In fact, the only true Yrraxean to partake in an assassination was in Eberdeen.  The rest of the murders were to be accomplished through the Arum Dracunculus and the Ephistaemi daggers.  But when your master was unable to destroy the party through Opheiluka, much was complicated.  They know enough to be dangerous, and they have not been dealt with to our knowledge.”

Allyssa began to speak, but Tahnet was not finished.  “The fact that you saw them enter the building that your apartment is in does not bode well for us.  The fact that your apartment was ransacked after you sent one of your own assassins in does not bode well, either.”

Tindrahk was growing impatient.  “What are you getting at, Tahnet?”

Tahnet spoke his mind cleanly.  “Most of you think that I have too much dreamer in me.  You think that my imagination is too great.  I can see it in how my warning to you all about Yrraxea’s wrath was dismissed.  But it matters not, really.  I think the wizard of Eberdeen has been compromised.  If they knew to look for Allyssa, then they had to get that information through the wizard.  They had to get that information through Ankh-Bahl.  If they knew to look for Allyssa, then they knew to look for the rest of the servants of Ankh-Bahl as well.  What if the whole mission is compromised?  What if that is the reason why Yrraxea would only shield herself from me with her wrath when I tried to contact her?”

Allyssa chuckled, and she was quickly joined by Tindrahk and Barrie.  After they had laughed for a few seconds, even Gallahn began to laugh.  Allyssa replied to Tahnet’s warning first.  “You think that a bunch of nothing fighters from the backwater village of Huetown could take on Yrraxea’s personal demonic assassin and win?  Oh, come now, Tahnet.  I know that you are a half-breed, but certainly one of parents gave you access to a brain.  Either your human or elf parent had to have taught you some ability to think.  Those freedom fighters from Huetown are nothing but glorified thieves.  They sneak through the tunnels and use guerilla tactics, and that is the only way that they do anything remotely capable of being called winning.”

Ischarus and Charis couldn’t help but smile at the fact that their resourcefulness was being mocked and underestimated.  They knew that Tahnet’s instincts had led him down the path of truth, but the vanity of the others wouldn’t let them listen.  From the perspective of Ischarus and Charis, the conversation had just gotten interesting.

Tahnet objected once more.  “You heard the report from Ankh-Bahl herself through the wizard.  They defeated a red dragon of Quehalost.  That is no small feat.”

Tindrahk chuckled once more.  “Tahnet, don’t embarrass yourself, and don’t embarrass me for choosing you to be a part of this expedition to Fingerdale.  They didn’t defeat the red dragon.  A flight of three virtuous dragons from Barghost flew to their aid.   The dragons battled one another.  If the party had to fight the dragon alone, they would have lost miserably.  And that means that there is no way that they could have taken on the wizard.  Even if they would have found a way to defeat Allyssa’s master, they would not have been able to get past Ankh-Bahl.  They just aren’t that powerful, especially since they would have had to defeat the wizard in a tough battle first.”

Tahnet began to object again.  “There is a reason you brought me, sir.  I can see things.”

Tindrahk paused for a moment and spoke once more with reason in his voice.  “Indeed.  You are a dreamer of dreams and a seer of visions.  But think about it.  This time your imagination has gotten the best of you.  The defeat of Ankh-Bahl at the hands of the puny party from Huetown is ridiculous.  Even you must admit that.”

Tahnet didn’t want to admit it, but he silently nodded.  The nod put him in his place.  He was submissive to Tindrahk.  It was as if he were the omega in a wolf pack that had been forced to expose his vulnerable underbelly.  He had voiced his mind, and when he was challenged he had been forced to submit. 

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus and Charis quietly crept down the stairs. They were careful to walk only where the steps joined with the wall. The immediate support of the wall would minimize any squeaking or groaning protests that the bare wooden steps might offer. It didn’t take either of them long to leave the open air and descend to the first level below deck.

Ischarus bent low while he was several steps above the floor below the top deck. In effect, he was looking down the ship’s main hallway from just below the ceiling. “It appears to be clear. Perhaps they gave the crew the night off, thinking that the dock guard and the sentries above would be enough. It doesn’t seem right, though. Allyssa knew that we were alive. That’s got to be why she left the surprise just before the docks. She had to know that we would come after her. If she knew that we were coming, why such a lightly protected boat?”

Charis whispered in return. “True, but she’d assume that the assassins would have stopped us. They were a tough fight given that they surprised us. Besides, if she’s trying to keep herself and her faith a secret, I’d imagine that posting too many redundant guards would only draw attention from the dock master. At some point she has to assume that we aren’t going to make it this far without her knowing about it.”

Ischarus nodded and finished descending the staircase. The hallway was straight, and it appeared that the captain’s quarters were the room at which the hallway terminated on the far end. Just before the captain’s quarters on the right, there was another doorway leading to a staircase descending to the ship’s main storage area. Opposite the hall from that staircase was a door that was closed tight. The rest of the rooms on the ship only had archways and curtains as a means of keeping privacy.

This was the first time in Charis’ life that she was aboard ship. “Surely there is more crew aboard ship than the archways indicate.”

Ischarus smiled and suppressed the urge to laugh. “Life aboard ship is never dull, and unless you are the captain it is also never private. These sleeping quarters are most likely housing hammocks floor to ceiling. Of course, they’re never full at any one time because on the seas there is always a watch. But yeah, there are many fewer rooms than actual sailors. At that’s assuming that this is a legitimate merchant ship. If this is a ship involved in piracy or smuggling, it’ll have more sailor than that. After all, you’ve got to sail with enough people so that if you lose a bunch in a boarding party you can still set watches afterward.”

Charis grinned. “And commandeer the new ship for sale in a nearby harbor, no doubt.”

Ischarus shook his head in the negative. “Perhaps, but highly unlikely. After a battle, a good bit of the boarded ship’s hull would be torn apart from the ramming process. If so, it would only slow the smuggling vessel down. Not only that, but if it is a local boat, there is a chance that the dock master might recognize that the ship is no longer under the proper administration. Only if it is seaworthy enough and the captain has enough sailors under him that he can trust will a prize crew be established.”

Charis found this aspect of life fascinating. Life at the seas would certainly be much different than her old life in Quehalost or even her new life at Iasho’s villa in Huetown. “So we want the closed door at the end of the hall?”

Ischarus nodded as he moved down the hallway. He didn’t want to risk speaking any further. Charis followed him as quietly as she could. Their lack of equipment certainly made it easier to sneak around the ship. The subtle swaying of the boat didn’t make it easy to remain quiet, however.

Less than a minute later, Ischarus and Charis flanked the closed door. Ischarus crouched to the right of the door in the slight depression made by the doorway into the captain’s quarters. Charis knelt on the opposite side. They each remained quiet as they listened to the conversation from inside the closed door.

A female was speaking, but it was not the voice of Allyssa. “You are no doubt aware that we have lost contact with your master? We have not received direction from Ankh-Bahl recently. Your master was chosen to be her mouthpiece.”

Allyssa responded. “Yes, Barrie. I am aware of this fact. While the lack of direction at this crucial time bothers me, it does not have me concerned. We have a job to do, and we will accomplish it.”

A deep male voice followed up Allyssa’s comment. “Good. I am glad to hear that you still intend on fulfilling your calling. With the disappearance of Opheiluka, this post was in jeopardy for several days. That is, of course, why we were sent here. If your master was unable to arrange for a replacement, we were going to find a new way to accomplish the plan.”

A second male voice continued the explanation of the first. “Yes, Gallahn. That much is obvious. But assuming that Allyssa can fulfill the desires of the Egoist and the Queen of Avarice herself, there is little need for concern and overanalyzing the situation.”

The sound of a chair sliding backwards across a wooden plank floor echoed down the ship’s hallway. Gallahn’s voice responded quickly to the one who had followed his speech. “Yes, Tindrahk. If you are satisfied with the wizard’s solution in Allyssa then I will offer no complaint. After all, you are the one who received word from the Egoist to expect Ankh-Bahl.”

Another third male voice spoke, and this voice was easily the highest voice in pitch of the three men. “If we can assume that Allyssa will fulfill her destiny, what of the rest of the plan? Ankh-Bahl’s silence is a foreboding omen. When I tried to contact Yrraxea this afternoon for assurance, I was unable to make contact. Her fury was acting as a barrier to my appeal. She is not pleased with our efforts.”

Barrie spoke, and it was clear with her tone that she was speaking through a smile and enjoying the opportunity to poke an insult at the man who had just spoken. “Tahnet, you always worry! And your attempts to contact Yrraxea seldom work the way you want them to anyway. Would you have us stop with the plan because your faith isn’t strong enough to reach out to our queen?”

Ischarus and Charis smiled as they heard Tahnet’s fist slam down on the table. “You will insult me once more? Remember your rank! When I rise in power, it is you who will need to fall.”

Tindrahk let a loud laugh flood over the argument in order to drown out the discussion. “Priest and priestess, if you will listen to me and my dominant rank. Yrraxea is pleased at your devotion to personal gain, even at the expense of each other’s dominance. Your fighting keeps you sharp. But this is not the time for fighting. We are in hostile territory. This port is a stronghold for Reah, and geographically speaking we are not that far from Barghost. While your arguments are entertaining, let us remember that here in this place we are not each other’s enemy. There are greater enemies that we must concern ourselves with first.”

Allyssa continued with the argument as Tindrahk paused. “Such as the pests who ransacked my apartment this morning. My master was supposed to deal with them. I do not doubt Ankh-Bahl’s ability to plan and deceive, but for a demonic assassin I was hoping that she would have dealt with this problem already. To leave it up to us is disgraceful. Fortunately, you brought along enough minions to take care of them.”

Gallahn again countered Allyssa’s assertion. “Deal with them? You are sure that there was a battle?”

A subtle pause in the conversation carried an eerie silence down the hallway. Ischarus and Charis both fought the urge to flee as the conversation completely died out while speaking about the party. The only thing that gave Ischarus and Charis the ability to stay put was the lack of footsteps pounding the wooden floor in the direction of the closed door.

After several long seconds, Allyssa’s voice broke the silence. “You mean that you did not spot them watching us as we boarded the boat?”

Gallahn responded intensely. “You mean to imply that you did? Why did you say nothing? Tindrahk and I alone could have used Yrraxea’s power right then and there to defeat them! Then we could act in complete confidence!”

Another pause followed, but this one was not quite so long. Once more, Allyssa broke the silence. “You would use your dark powers out in the open? And then what would you do? Were you not listening to Tindrahk a moment ago? The town of Fingerdale is a den of followers of Reah. There temple is strong here, and their priests are in command of significant power because the faith of the people is strong. If you would have called upon the powers of Yrraxea out in the public, you would have doomed our plan! If anyone would have observed the act, the priests of Reah would be alerted, and we would have immediately risen to the spot of primary suspect regarding the death of Lord Ironblood. Use your powers in the open and you doom us all.”

A slight growl seemed to escape Allyssa’s throat as she turned her speech to the leader of the priests of Yrraxea. “Tindrahk, perhaps Barrie should not descend down as Tahnet suggests. Perhaps Barrie should ascend and take the place of Gallahn. Your second shows little ability to understand his impact in the world. While I could care less for his personal gain or safety, the fact that his rashness could impact my standing displeases me.”

Tindrahk was now in an awkward place. Allyssa had called upon him to either support her claim or denounce her assertiveness. He knew that her argument was correct, but if he chastised Gallahn he would be lending credence to Allyssa’s assertion that Barrie should rise in power. The two were not necessarily as connected as they should be. Gallahn was being rash, but Allyssa seemed to have a vendetta against Gallahn that he could not ignore.

Instead, he refused to allow himself to become triangulated in between his loyal followers. Instead, he would chastise Allyssa. His chair scraped backwards as he rose to a standing position. He thumped the table hard with his hand and there was anger in his voice. “Know your place, assassin. Do not attempt to come between me and those who have sworn loyalty to Yrraxea underneath my temple in Tongra. You will not inflate egos where they should not be inflated for the purpose of fueling your own vendetta against my second. Gallahn and Barrie are good servants, and they serve where they serve for a reason. I will not allow the field assassin of another Yrraxean to drive a nail of jealousy into my command. They will settle their own hierarchy issues without your envious influence.”

Another uncomfortable pause followed. Gallahn, Barrie, and Tahnet were not about to speak while their own master was caught in the rage. Allyssa was also not about to respond and risk feeling the great wrath of an Yrraxean high priest. Instead, it was Tindrahk who continued the conversation.

As he continued to speak, the anger diffused out of his voice. “Gallahn, she is right. Your action would have been rash. Your devotion and desire is commendable, but your lack of tactics would certainly have doomed us all. Learn the lesson that you have been taught. As for you, Allyssa, just do your job. Kill Lord Ironblood at the appointed time. And do it with the Ephistaemi daggers as planned.”

Outside the room, Ischarus and Charis exchanged confused glances. The Yrraxeans were using Ephistaemi daggers in their actions. That sentence echoed back to the information gleaned from the wizard of Eberdeen. That information took their minds back to the smoldering remains of the villa in Huetown.

Tahnet was not about to let his name continue in the shame that Barrie had cast it. “And what of this party? Your master brought them into the plan by requiring them to go to Quehalost for the Arum Dracunculus. The drug was necessary so that the Yrraxeans would not be doing the killing and leaving a trace behind in many places. In fact, the only true Yrraxean to partake in an assassination was in Eberdeen. The rest of the murders were to be accomplished through the Arum Dracunculus and the Ephistaemi daggers. But when your master was unable to destroy the party through Opheiluka, much was complicated. They know enough to be dangerous, and they have not been dealt with to our knowledge.”

Allyssa began to speak, but Tahnet was not finished. “The fact that you saw them enter the building that your apartment is in does not bode well for us. The fact that your apartment was ransacked after you sent one of your own assassins in does not bode well, either.”

Tindrahk was growing impatient. “What are you getting at, Tahnet?”

Tahnet spoke his mind cleanly. “Most of you think that I have too much dreamer in me. You think that my imagination is too great. I can see it in how my warning to you all about Yrraxea’s wrath was dismissed. But it matters not, really. I think the wizard of Eberdeen has been compromised. If they knew to look for Allyssa, then they had to get that information through the wizard. They had to get that information through Ankh-Bahl. If they knew to look for Allyssa, then they knew to look for the rest of the servants of Ankh-Bahl as well. What if the whole mission is compromised? What if that is the reason why Yrraxea would only shield herself from me with her wrath when I tried to contact her?”

Allyssa chuckled, and she was quickly joined by Tindrahk and Barrie. After they had laughed for a few seconds, even Gallahn began to laugh. Allyssa replied to Tahnet’s warning first. “You think that a bunch of nothing fighters from the backwater village of Huetown could take on Yrraxea’s personal demonic assassin and win? Oh, come now, Tahnet. I know that you are a half-breed, but certainly one of parents gave you access to a brain. Either your human or elf parent had to have taught you some ability to think. Those freedom fighters from Huetown are nothing but glorified thieves. They sneak through the tunnels and use guerilla tactics, and that is the only way that they do anything remotely capable of being called winning.”

Ischarus and Charis couldn’t help but smile at the fact that their resourcefulness was being mocked and underestimated. They knew that Tahnet’s instincts had led him down the path of truth, but the vanity of the others wouldn’t let them listen. From the perspective of Ischarus and Charis, the conversation had just gotten interesting.

Tahnet objected once more. “You heard the report from Ankh-Bahl herself through the wizard. They defeated a red dragon of Quehalost. That is no small feat.”

Tindrahk chuckled once more. “Tahnet, don’t embarrass yourself, and don’t embarrass me for choosing you to be a part of this expedition to Fingerdale. They didn’t defeat the red dragon. A flight of three virtuous dragons from Barghost flew to their aid. The dragons battled one another. If the party had to fight the dragon alone, they would have lost miserably. And that means that there is no way that they could have taken on the wizard. Even if they would have found a way to defeat Allyssa’s master, they would not have been able to get past Ankh-Bahl. They just aren’t that powerful, especially since they would have had to defeat the wizard in a tough battle first.”

Tahnet began to object again. “There is a reason you brought me, sir. I can see things.”

Tindrahk paused for a moment and spoke once more with reason in his voice. “Indeed. You are a dreamer of dreams and a seer of visions. But think about it. This time your imagination has gotten the best of you. The defeat of Ankh-Bahl at the hands of the puny party from Huetown is ridiculous. Even you must admit that.”

Tahnet didn’t want to admit it, but he silently nodded. The nod put him in his place. He was submissive to Tindrahk. It was as if he were the omega in a wolf pack that had been forced to expose his vulnerable underbelly. He had voiced his mind, and when he was challenged he had been forced to submit.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 17, 2007)

Ischarus turned to Charis and gave her a slight smile.  It was good to know that their efforts were being underestimated.  Of course, even so what Tindrahk had said was true.  They couldn’t have defeated the wizard or Ankh-Bahl on their own.  Without the help of Masters Brandt and Searthu or even the Wizard’s College guards the party would not have been successful.  Fortunately, it seemed as though the followers of Yrraxea were unaware of the party’s connections to the temple of Reah.

Gallahn turned the conversation within the room away from the youngest of the followers of Yrraxea.  “We are ready with the Ephistaemi deception?”

Neither Ischarus nor Charis could see it, but Allyssa smiled.  There was a certain level of enjoyment in her response.  “Yes, and that is my favorite part.  The deception is absolutely perfect, and it has been the best part of my master’s plan.  I suspect that the plan was actually derived from Ankh-Bahl within him, but either way it is largely brilliant.  Each of the assassins in the seven towns will be equipped with daggers inscribed with the secret Ephistaemi insignia.”

Barrie grinned as she reached across the table.  “May I see it?”

A serious tone overcame Allyssa’s speech.  “Most certainly not.  My master went through a good bit of trouble to discover that insignia.  The fewer people that know about it, the better off the deception will be.”

Tindrahk knew the plan, but he wanted Allyssa to bring his companions into the well crafted plan.  “And the party?  You’re not worried about the fact that they were not destroyed?” 

Allyssa grinned.  “The party?  At first I was dismayed at their ability to show up outside my apartment.  And as I said before, it is a disgrace to Ankh-Bahl that they remained alive.  By now, their presence should be removed in any regard.  But even if they are not, they will only help the deception.  My master and I spoke on this possibility when he was unable to find any remains after Opheiluka was supposed to have destroyed the party.  As far as they know, their villa was destroyed by the Ephistaemi.  Even if they are alive, they will be pulled into the deception.  In my greatest hope, they may even add to the belief of the deception.”

Barrie completed the logic of the plan.  “If they are alive, when they hear of the Ephistaemi dagger found in the murder of Lord Ironblood, they will bring their own evidence to bear.  Again, that is assuming that they somehow survived your surprise at the beginning of the dock.”

Allyssa confirmed the conclusion.  “Actually, if Iasho is as smart as my master assumed him to be, the status of the party is actually irrelevant.”

This information was new to Tindrahk, and he questioned Allyssa on the name.  “Iasho?”

Allyssa grinned at just how detailed the wizard of Eberdeen had been in explaining the plan to her.  “Iasho.  He is Rhema’s father and owner of the villa in Huetown.  In the original plan, he was supposed to be so distraught about his daughter’s death that his inner turmoil would drive him to seeking justice upon discovery of the Ephistaemi plot to kill Lord Ironblood.  If the party is alive, then they play his part in our modified plan.  But if the party was handled by your servants as we approached the dock, his inner angst will be all the more raw and tender.  Either way, the earlier deception in the destruction of Iasho’s villa in Huetown continues to serve our purpose.”

Tahnet was impressed.  “So, the Ephistaemi deception has already given us the Arum Dracunculus for free.  Now, the past deception will only serve to make this deception more realistic.”

Allyssa was pleased.  “Exactly.  When the Ephistaemi daggers show up all over Tongra and the connection is made to the villa in Huetown, the people will have their villainous organization.  The hunt for the mysterious Ephistaemi will be on.  Of course, a leader for that hunt will step forward.  Ankh-Bahl, using the knowledge within my master, will step forward and lead the hunt for the Ephistaemi.  Once Ankh-Bahl obtains her first bits of success, she will have the toehold that she needs.  She can bring Yrraxea to Tongra either subtly or dramatically.”

Outside the room, Ischarus shook his head.  This had been the second time through the explanation of the Yrraxean deception and he still couldn’t believe the incredible chance that it had for success.  Had the assassins not already been intercepted, the Confederacy of Tongra would be on the verge of losing seven of the ten most significant leaders of Tongra.  The three that would remain were hardly powerful enough to stabilize the country.  The areas they governed were already wracked by the battles along the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains.

Tahnet grinned as he allowed his nature to take him down the path of dreaming.  “Once Tongra, then where will our Queen want to master?  Fenneress?  The holy territory of Barghost?  Perhaps she will want a conquest into Quehalost to liberate our trapped brethren?”

Tindrahk chuckled as his younger servant added to the conversation.  “Putting the cart before the horse a bit, aren’t we?  The control for Tongra will take time to evolve.  And once the truth about Yrraxean control does eventually leak out into the public, there will no doubt be an offensive from Barghost, if not Fenneress as well.  To speak of control of Tongra as if it is a foregone conclusion is a bit premature.”

Barrie added an additional opinion to the conversation.  “Of course, that doesn’t even bring to light the additional hidden gatherings of opposing deities brought to power in the land of Quehalost.”

Gallahn jumped onto what he thought was Allyssa’s conclusion.  “Yes.  Once they see the power of Yrraxea, they’ll be forced to capitulate with our greatness and join our cause.”

Allyssa chuckled in obvious amusement.  “Yes, you might think that.  But we are not in league with the followers of other deities from Quehalost except in the rare instance where we are called to defeat those who are strong in Barghost.  The truth is that if we are found out to be in power over Tongra, the hidden followers of other gods and goddesses of Quehalost will no doubt react in anger and jealousy.  They will come against us to take what is ours.”

Tahnet decided to allow his youth to show through and question the older and wiser Yrraxean leaders.  “So even when we control Tongra, we will still have to be wary of a civil war?”

Tindrahk explained even further.  “Of course.  Many will be persuaded to join our ranks when we deliver them from the Ephistaemi threat.  But many will not.  Many will oppose our Queen in spite of the order that we will bring to Tongra.  We will unify the confederacy, but there will be people inside the boundaries of Tongra that simply do not ever accept what we bring to this world.”

Allyssa allowed a tone of sarcasm to be present as she spoke.  “You mean, of course, people like us who have a better plan for Tongra than its current existence?”

Tindrahk chuckled with Allyssa’s assertion.  “Of course.  But few are as driven as we are.”

Allyssa thumped the table hard as she rose up from her chair.  “Of course!  But I feel like we have spoken enough for the night.  Tomorrow I’ll show you that I’m good for my word.  Lord Ironblood will be dead by noon.  And, unless you have anything else for me, I think it’s time for me to be heading towards my apartment.”

Ischarus’ eyes widened with the realization that the meeting was ending rather suddenly.  He turned to look to Charis, but she was already backing away from the door.  With a nod he directed her to head to the top deck.

Before Ischarus had an opportunity to follow, he heard Allyssa stride to the door while Tindrahk officially concluded the meeting.  He didn’t have time to follow Charis up the stairs.  Instead, his head turned to the archway across the hall from the closed door.  It was a fair way down the steps, but there was a chance it might work.  It might be his only chance to avoid detection.

Charis easily reached the top deck and burst out of the staircase and into the moonlight.  She saw that both of the guards were still tied up, and only one of them had regained consciousness.  At this point, she no longer cared much about noise.  She ran across the deck and stopped for a moment beside the guard who was not conscious.

The other guard tried to cry out through his muffled gag, but Charis was in little danger of the gagged guard raising an alarm.  She knelt to the deck and could see that the unconscious guard was in little danger of dying.  She also knew that it didn’t matter.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”

The now conscious man breathed in deeply through his nose as he woke up.  It was then that Charis turned around to look for Ischarus.  She didn’t see him, but she did hear Allyssa’s footsteps at the base of the staircase.  She didn’t have a choice and couldn’t wait any longer. She stood up and dove over the rail of the ship.  She entered the water with a loud splash and tried to swim as far under water as possible before coming to the surface for air.

Rhema knew what the splash meant.  Something had gone wrong aboard the ship and either Charis or Ischarus needed to leave in a hurry.  The dock guard immediately turned towards the splash and began searching the dark water.  Rhema stood up so quickly she almost legitimately fell into the water.  Had the guard not grabbed hold of her once more, Rhema would have entered into the water for sure.

Rhema turned to him and allowed her mental power to flow through her voice once more.  He was already under her influence, so adding to the effect would be rather easy.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for a swim.  I don’t see anyone from the prior splash coming to the surface.  They might need our help.  We’ve got to get in there!”

She turned and jumped head first into the water without waiting for a response.  She had done all that she could to get the guard into the water. If the dock guard stayed, he would likely feel the wrath of Allyssa and the Yrraxeans once they discovered that the ship had been boarded.  If the dock guard followed her, they could at least protect him from their wrath.  She hoped her urgency would help compel the dock guard into action.

The guard did jump head first in order to follow Rhema into the water.  It wasn’t the logical choice, but his brain was no longer working in a logical manner.  He had been sucked into Rhema’s control, and he now acted out of instinct.  Fortunately for him, Rhema was ultimately protecting him.  She was responsible for his safety since her ability to deceive him had put him in jeopardy.  He couldn’t have known what heinous villains were gathering and planning on that ship.

Under the main deck, Allyssa had opened the door only moments after Charis climbed the stairs.  Ischarus had taken two quick steps down into the storage hold when he spotted several ropes tied to the supports that held up the floor from the level that he was just on.  He leapt off of the staircase and grabbed one of the ropes.  As he swung, he reached out and grabbed a second rope in order to reduce as much momentum as he could.  Luck was on his side.  Before Allyssa could enter the hallway, he hung silently from the ropes.  

He listened as Allyssa walked down the hallway.  Her footsteps were the only ones that he heard.  She climbed the stairs, and he slowly let himself down to the floor using both ropes.  He quickly hid once again as he made out Allyssa’s hurried footsteps returning down from the top deck.

She called out and raised the alarm.  “We’ve been boarded!  Two individuals came on board and fled into the water!  The dock guard went with them.  Come, we’ve got to search the water before they escape.”

Tindrahk and his followers quickly moved above deck and searched the water from the ship’s rail.  When they didn’t find anything, Tahnet was left to guard the staircase while the rest moved up the dock to search among the other moored vessels.  They were not successful.

Ischarus couldn’t understand how lucky he was.  He knew that the deck guards were aware that two people had boarded the ship.  He also knew that at most the deck guards could have seen Charis go overboard.  He couldn’t know that Rhema’s quick thinking to enter the water and take the dock guard with her had allowed the deck guards to count the proper number of splashes.  He couldn’t know that from their perspective, three people had entered the water.  He couldn’t know that from the perspective of the deck guards everyone was accounted for.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus turned to Charis and gave her a slight smile. It was good to know that their efforts were being underestimated. Of course, even so what Tindrahk had said was true. They couldn’t have defeated the wizard or Ankh-Bahl on their own. Without the help of Masters Brandt and Searthu or even the Wizard’s College guards the party would not have been successful. Fortunately, it seemed as though the followers of Yrraxea were unaware of the party’s connections to the temple of Reah.

Gallahn turned the conversation within the room away from the youngest of the followers of Yrraxea. “We are ready with the Ephistaemi deception?”

Neither Ischarus nor Charis could see it, but Allyssa smiled. There was a certain level of enjoyment in her response. “Yes, and that is my favorite part. The deception is absolutely perfect, and it has been the best part of my master’s plan. I suspect that the plan was actually derived from Ankh-Bahl within him, but either way it is largely brilliant. Each of the assassins in the seven towns will be equipped with daggers inscribed with the secret Ephistaemi insignia.”

Barrie grinned as she reached across the table. “May I see it?”

A serious tone overcame Allyssa’s speech. “Most certainly not. My master went through a good bit of trouble to discover that insignia. The fewer people that know about it, the better off the deception will be.”

Tindrahk knew the plan, but he wanted Allyssa to bring his companions into the well crafted plan. “And the party? You’re not worried about the fact that they were not destroyed?” 

Allyssa grinned. “The party? At first I was dismayed at their ability to show up outside my apartment. And as I said before, it is a disgrace to Ankh-Bahl that they remained alive. By now, their presence should be removed in any regard. But even if they are not, they will only help the deception. My master and I spoke on this possibility when he was unable to find any remains after Opheiluka was supposed to have destroyed the party. As far as they know, their villa was destroyed by the Ephistaemi. Even if they are alive, they will be pulled into the deception. In my greatest hope, they may even add to the belief of the deception.”

Barrie completed the logic of the plan. “If they are alive, when they hear of the Ephistaemi dagger found in the murder of Lord Ironblood, they will bring their own evidence to bear. Again, that is assuming that they somehow survived your surprise at the beginning of the dock.”

Allyssa confirmed the conclusion. “Actually, if Iasho is as smart as my master assumed him to be, the status of the party is actually irrelevant.”

This information was new to Tindrahk, and he questioned Allyssa on the name. “Iasho?”

Allyssa grinned at just how detailed the wizard of Eberdeen had been in explaining the plan to her. “Iasho. He is Rhema’s father and owner of the villa in Huetown. In the original plan, he was supposed to be so distraught about his daughter’s death that his inner turmoil would drive him to seeking justice upon discovery of the Ephistaemi plot to kill Lord Ironblood. If the party is alive, then they play his part in our modified plan. But if the party was handled by your servants as we approached the dock, his inner angst will be all the more raw and tender. Either way, the earlier deception in the destruction of Iasho’s villa in Huetown continues to serve our purpose.”

Tahnet was impressed. “So, the Ephistaemi deception has already given us the Arum Dracunculus for free. Now, the past deception will only serve to make this deception more realistic.”

Allyssa was pleased. “Exactly. When the Ephistaemi daggers show up all over Tongra and the connection is made to the villa in Huetown, the people will have their villainous organization. The hunt for the mysterious Ephistaemi will be on. Of course, a leader for that hunt will step forward. Ankh-Bahl, using the knowledge within my master, will step forward and lead the hunt for the Ephistaemi. Once Ankh-Bahl obtains her first bits of success, she will have the toehold that she needs. She can bring Yrraxea to Tongra either subtly or dramatically.”

Outside the room, Ischarus shook his head. This had been the second time through the explanation of the Yrraxean deception and he still couldn’t believe the incredible chance that it had for success. Had the assassins not already been intercepted, the Confederacy of Tongra would be on the verge of losing seven of the ten most significant leaders of Tongra. The three that would remain were hardly powerful enough to stabilize the country. The areas they governed were already wracked by the battles along the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains.

Tahnet grinned as he allowed his nature to take him down the path of dreaming. “Once Tongra, then where will our Queen want to master? Fenneress? The holy territory of Barghost? Perhaps she will want a conquest into Quehalost to liberate our trapped brethren?”

Tindrahk chuckled as his younger servant added to the conversation. “Putting the cart before the horse a bit, aren’t we? The control for Tongra will take time to evolve. And once the truth about Yrraxean control does eventually leak out into the public, there will no doubt be an offensive from Barghost, if not Fenneress as well. To speak of control of Tongra as if it is a foregone conclusion is a bit premature.”

Barrie added an additional opinion to the conversation. “Of course, that doesn’t even bring to light the additional hidden gatherings of opposing deities brought to power in the land of Quehalost.”

Gallahn jumped onto what he thought was Allyssa’s conclusion. “Yes. Once they see the power of Yrraxea, they’ll be forced to capitulate with our greatness and join our cause.”

Allyssa chuckled in obvious amusement. “Yes, you might think that. But we are not in league with the followers of other deities from Quehalost except in the rare instance where we are called to defeat those who are strong in Barghost. The truth is that if we are found out to be in power over Tongra, the hidden followers of other gods and goddesses of Quehalost will no doubt react in anger and jealousy. They will come against us to take what is ours.”

Tahnet decided to allow his youth to show through and question the older and wiser Yrraxean leaders. “So even when we control Tongra, we will still have to be wary of a civil war?”

Tindrahk explained even further. “Of course. Many will be persuaded to join our ranks when we deliver them from the Ephistaemi threat. But many will not. Many will oppose our Queen in spite of the order that we will bring to Tongra. We will unify the confederacy, but there will be people inside the boundaries of Tongra that simply do not ever accept what we bring to this world.”

Allyssa allowed a tone of sarcasm to be present as she spoke. “You mean, of course, people like us who have a better plan for Tongra than its current existence?”

Tindrahk chuckled with Allyssa’s assertion. “Of course. But few are as driven as we are.”

Allyssa thumped the table hard as she rose up from her chair. “Of course! But I feel like we have spoken enough for the night. Tomorrow I’ll show you that I’m good for my word. Lord Ironblood will be dead by noon. And, unless you have anything else for me, I think it’s time for me to be heading towards my apartment.”

Ischarus’ eyes widened with the realization that the meeting was ending rather suddenly. He turned to look to Charis, but she was already backing away from the door. With a nod he directed her to head to the top deck.

Before Ischarus had an opportunity to follow, he heard Allyssa stride to the door while Tindrahk officially concluded the meeting. He didn’t have time to follow Charis up the stairs. Instead, his head turned to the archway across the hall from the closed door. It was a fair way down the steps, but there was a chance it might work. It might be his only chance to avoid detection.

Charis easily reached the top deck and burst out of the staircase and into the moonlight. She saw that both of the guards were still tied up, and only one of them had regained consciousness. At this point, she no longer cared much about noise. She ran across the deck and stopped for a moment beside the guard who was not conscious.

The other guard tried to cry out through his muffled gag, but Charis was in little danger of the gagged guard raising an alarm. She knelt to the deck and could see that the unconscious guard was in little danger of dying. She also knew that it didn’t matter. “Bondras-tol Egro.”

The now conscious man breathed in deeply through his nose as he woke up. It was then that Charis turned around to look for Ischarus. She didn’t see him, but she did hear Allyssa’s footsteps at the base of the staircase. She didn’t have a choice and couldn’t wait any longer. She stood up and dove over the rail of the ship. She entered the water with a loud splash and tried to swim as far under water as possible before coming to the surface for air.

Rhema knew what the splash meant. Something had gone wrong aboard the ship and either Charis or Ischarus needed to leave in a hurry. The dock guard immediately turned towards the splash and began searching the dark water. Rhema stood up so quickly she almost legitimately fell into the water. Had the guard not grabbed hold of her once more, Rhema would have entered into the water for sure.

Rhema turned to him and allowed her mental power to flow through her voice once more. He was already under her influence, so adding to the effect would be rather easy. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for a swim. I don’t see anyone from the prior splash coming to the surface. They might need our help. We’ve got to get in there!”

She turned and jumped head first into the water without waiting for a response. She had done all that she could to get the guard into the water. If the dock guard stayed, he would likely feel the wrath of Allyssa and the Yrraxeans once they discovered that the ship had been boarded. If the dock guard followed her, they could at least protect him from their wrath. She hoped her urgency would help compel the dock guard into action.

The guard did jump head first in order to follow Rhema into the water. It wasn’t the logical choice, but his brain was no longer working in a logical manner. He had been sucked into Rhema’s control, and he now acted out of instinct. Fortunately for him, Rhema was ultimately protecting him. She was responsible for his safety since her ability to deceive him had put him in jeopardy. He couldn’t have known what heinous villains were gathering and planning on that ship.

Under the main deck, Allyssa had opened the door only moments after Charis climbed the stairs. Ischarus had taken two quick steps down into the storage hold when he spotted several ropes tied to the supports that held up the floor from the level that he was just on. He leapt off of the staircase and grabbed one of the ropes. As he swung, he reached out and grabbed a second rope in order to reduce as much momentum as he could. Luck was on his side. Before Allyssa could enter the hallway, he hung silently from the ropes. 

He listened as Allyssa walked down the hallway. Her footsteps were the only ones that he heard. She climbed the stairs, and he slowly let himself down to the floor using both ropes. He quickly hid once again as he made out Allyssa’s hurried footsteps returning down from the top deck.

She called out and raised the alarm. “We’ve been boarded! Two individuals came on board and fled into the water! The dock guard went with them. Come, we’ve got to search the water before they escape.”

Tindrahk and his followers quickly moved above deck and searched the water from the ship’s rail. When they didn’t find anything, Tahnet was left to guard the staircase while the rest moved up the dock to search among the other moored vessels. They were not successful.

Ischarus couldn’t understand how lucky he was. He knew that the deck guards were aware that two people had boarded the ship. He also knew that at most the deck guards could have seen Charis go overboard. He couldn’t know that Rhema’s quick thinking to enter the water and take the dock guard with her had allowed the deck guards to count the proper number of splashes. He couldn’t know that from their perspective, three people had entered the water. He couldn’t know that from the perspective of the deck guards everyone was accounted for.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 21, 2007)

Rhema quickly found Charis in the water and feigned helping her to the shore in order to keep the dock guard under her influence.  The disguise of helping her reach solid ground kept the dock guard out of danger from the Yrraxeans for the time being.  As they swam, they could hear the confusion on the ship behind them.

Semeion and Ophee helped get Rhema, Charis, and the dock guard out of the water as quickly as possible.  They had been alerted to the impending danger by the sudden splashes of water.  As he and Ophee helped get their friends out of the water they could hear a few of the Yrraxeans leaving the boat and walking along the dock.  The party hurried to the small storehouse that they had been using as cover for the night.  Rhema was able to convince the dock guard to come with them in case Charis needed assistance.

As they entered the storehouse, Rhema took a look at the assassins that they had managed to defeat earlier this evening.  “We’ll need to keep them quiet until our pursuit looses interest.”

Charis ignored Rhema’s comment and interrupted with her own concern.  “Well, to be honest, it isn’t going to make much difference how quiet we are.  We’ve left a bit of a water trial from the dock.”

Semeion turned to his wife and gave her a bit of a kiss on the forehead.  “I can take care of that.”  He turned back to the water and spoke softly while gesturing a sign of dismissal.  “Pazuhs Umaam.”  The water appeared to vanish as soon as Semeion spoke the words.

Charis turned back to her husband and smiled.  “You know a spell to evaporate water?”

Semeion shook his head.  “No, but I do know a spell that will alter the appearance of small things.  I simply made the dock appear to look dry.  But the water is still actually there.”

Rhema pulled Semeion inside the storehouse and closed the door quietly.  She turned to Charis and a look of panic appeared on her face.  “Okay, so what happened to Ischarus?  Please tell me that he’s safe and alive.”

Charis looked away, knowing that Rhema had done a good job of keeping her composure up until now.  However, it pained her to think of the emotional turmoil that she was about to spring upon her.  “He was alive when I left.  The conversation we were spying on ended much more suddenly than we thought.  I was able to make it to the stairs, but he wasn’t.  Instead of getting to the stairs, he jumped down into the hold of the ship.  Considering that everyone in the room charged up the stairs after me, I’m assuming that they didn’t know that he was down there.”

Rhema didn’t offer up a response.  Her face paled as she thought of Ischarus trapped aboard the ship.  She turned to the dock guard and mustered as much charm as she could offer.  “Thanks for looking out for me.  The thing is that the people aboard that ship are planning some pretty evil things.  To keep you from getting implicated in their plan and spending the rest of your life in jail, I wanted to bring you here and keep you safe.  I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to you if you didn’t know what you were getting into.”

The dock guard looked a bit confused as the sudden revelation seemed to blindside his life, but Rhema’s mental charm continued to work on him.  He didn’t respond, but he did sit down upon the ground and stare at the tied up assassins.  He nervously smiled at the rest of the party, wondering about his own fate.

Semeion turned back to Rhema.  “You know, if we wait out the Yrraxeans, we could return to the temple.  We’ve made good use of the rings of teleportation before.  I don’t see why we couldn’t use them one more time to get into the hold of the ship.  We could be in and out without them knowing about it.”

Rhema breathed in slowly.  She was clearly unhappy with the situation.  “Unless they have the ship protected.”

Charis smiled and gave Rhema a loving embrace.  “They won’t.  They don’t know about our tactics.  They didn’t even know that the wizard in Eberdeen had been destroyed.  We’ll get him, so long as he is willing to stay put and not try anything heroic.”

They stayed in the storehouse for several hours, keeping everyone quiet.  They hadn’t heard the Yrraxeans pass by their location, which was for the best.  Had the Yrraxeans passed near their hiding spot, they might have stepped on the wet spots and potentially ruined Semeion’s illusion.  As it was, they remained undiscovered.

After several hours, the party decided to head back to the temple.  They decided to leave the assassins in the storehouse while they made their way back to the temple.  If the assassins were discovered, it wouldn’t hurt their situation.  If they weren’t discovered, they would return for them the next day after they had apprehended Allyssa.

When they returned to the temple, Brandt gave Rhema two of the gold rings.  “Go and get him.  There’s no point sending all of you in.  If he’s there, you can give him the spare.  If they’re expecting you because they’ve discovered him, it’ll be easier to rescue two of you than four.”

Rhema snatched the rings from Brandt’s hand and slipped one on her finger. She didn’t need any explanation on how they worked; she’d used them enough before.  She twisted the ring and immediately thought of the ship’s hold.  Since she was able to bring up a vivid image of the ship, the ring’s magic worked perfectly.  A second later she appeared in the cargo hold.

The hold was darker than the outside world on a starless and moonless night.  There was no light whatsoever flooding into the hold from the floor above where Ischarus and Charis had crouched outside the doorway.  However, Rhema’s biology didn’t require her to have light to see in the dark. She could make out several stacks of boxes, although her ability to see them only allowed her to see them in a light shade of gray.  

Even though she could see, Rhema didn’t want to risk making any noise by stumbling around in the ship’s hold.  She simply whispered in the dark.  “Ischarus?”

The hold was silent for several seconds, so she spoke a little louder.  “Ischarus, it’s Rhema.  I’ve got a ring that will get us out of here.  Are you still down here?”

She waited several more seconds before she heard a soft noise from the other end of the ship.  “Rhema?  I can’t see you!  Where are you?”

Rhema swallowed hard.  It sounded like Ischarus, but she realized that it could easily be a trick.  With her heightened vision, she scanned the room again but couldn’t see anyone struggling in the dark.  She decided to risk shedding a bit of light into the hold so that Ischarus could find her.  She reached into her pocket and removed a match.  With a single strike, she caused the match to flare up in flame.

She could hear Ischarus chuckle, and then whisper.  “I’ll need a bit more light than a match, Rhema.”

Rhema was now beginning to doubt his voice.  He should have known that she could see in the dark.  She smiled and focused her thoughts on the flame before it burned the whole way down to the end.  The flame increased in size until it rivaled the size of a flame dancing upon the end of a torch.

Rhema heard a bit of movement from the direction of Ischarus’ voice.  She used her mind control to cause the flame to leave the match and float through the air in the direction of the noise.  As soon as the flame moved, she saw Ischarus’ head pop around one of the crates in the ship’s hold.  There could be no doubt that it was her husband.

Out of excitement, Rhema forgot about the flame as soon as she saw Ischarus’ head.  Since the flame had been feeding off of her mental energy and not the wood of the match, it winked out of existence as soon as Rhema stopped focusing on the flame.  The hold of the ship was bathed in complete darkness once again.

Ischarus stopped short and whispered once more.  “Rhema, I need light to come to you.”

Rhema walked cautiously towards Ischarus, trying to make as little noise as possible.  “True.  But I don’t need it to find you.  Stay put.”  Within seconds Rhema had met up with Ischarus.

Ischarus received her into his arms as she reached him.  After they hugged for several seconds, Rhema pulled back and slipped a gold ring into his right palm.  She gave him a simple piece of advice.  “Put this on and think about Brandt’s office.”

Ischarus didn’t need any more help than that.  He slipped the ring on and gave it a twist.  Rhema watched his gray form vanish and gave her own ring a twist.  In a matter of seconds the party was once more reunited in the temple of Reah. Ischarus stood with his hands over his eyes.  After several hours in the darkness of the ship’s hull, his eyes couldn’t take the brilliance of Brandt’s office.

Brandt smiled.  “Well done.  I doubt they even knew that you were there in that short of time.”

Ischarus smiled.  “Well, I’m just glad that’s over.  I wondered how long I was going to be in the hold of that ship.  I didn’t want to leave, because I didn’t know if I would have to fight my way off.”

Brandt motioned to the seating area in his office that was becoming like a second home to the party.  “Care to sit down and tell me what you all learned?”

The party wandered over to the chairs, but the truth was that they were tired after the activity of the day.  Charis began to tell the tale.  “Well, the truth is that we don’t know much.  We know that there is going to be an attempt on Lord Ironblood’s life tomorrow.”

Brandt looked to Charis.  “That’s all that you learned?”

Charis continued, noting that Ischarus was still a little overcome with the experience.  “Yeah.  We confirmed a bunch of things that we had already guessed.  And we learned that they really don’t know what happened to the wizard.  And we know that it is the Yrraxeans that are behind the attempt.  But as far as the immediate plan, all we know is that at some point tomorrow Allyssa is going to assassinate Lord Ironblood with an Ephistaemi dagger.  Their hope is that the Ephistaemi are going to be blamed so that the Yrraxeans can come into power.  But that part at the end we learned from the wizard.”

Semeion shrugged.  “Well, then, it seems like we don’t have much choice.  We have to follow Lord Ironblood around tomorrow and hope we get lucky.  We already fell for the Ephistaemi dagger rouse, and we fell for it hard.  I’d expect the people of Tongra to do the same.”

Rhema shook her head.  “No, there is something else we can do.  If we can convince Lord Ironblood to allow himself to be replaced with a doppelganger then we might be able to do a bit more.”

Charis wrinkled her forehead as she tried to make sense of Rhema’s suggestion.  “Doppleganger?  But we don’t have access to that kind of resource, do we?”

Rhema laughed.  “Well, if you mean someone who can quite literally change their appearance flawlessly, then not that I am aware of.  But we can use a little magic to make an effective disguise.”

Brandt nodded.  “I think that may be our best choice.  If we can get Lord Ironblood and his people to agree to the plan, it is likely going to be our best chance at ensuring no harm comes to the lord.  I’ll handle those details while you all prepare yourself for the morning.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Rhema quickly found Charis in the water and feigned helping her to the shore in order to keep the dock guard under her influence. The disguise of helping her reach solid ground kept the dock guard out of danger from the Yrraxeans for the time being. As they swam, they could hear the confusion on the ship behind them.

Semeion and Ophee helped get Rhema, Charis, and the dock guard out of the water as quickly as possible. They had been alerted to the impending danger by the sudden splashes of water. As he and Ophee helped get their friends out of the water they could hear a few of the Yrraxeans leaving the boat and walking along the dock. The party hurried to the small storehouse that they had been using as cover for the night. Rhema was able to convince the dock guard to come with them in case Charis needed assistance.

As they entered the storehouse, Rhema took a look at the assassins that they had managed to defeat earlier this evening. “We’ll need to keep them quiet until our pursuit looses interest.”

Charis ignored Rhema’s comment and interrupted with her own concern. “Well, to be honest, it isn’t going to make much difference how quiet we are. We’ve left a bit of a water trial from the dock.”

Semeion turned to his wife and gave her a bit of a kiss on the forehead. “I can take care of that.” He turned back to the water and spoke softly while gesturing a sign of dismissal. “Pazuhs Umaam.” The water appeared to vanish as soon as Semeion spoke the words.

Charis turned back to her husband and smiled. “You know a spell to evaporate water?”

Semeion shook his head. “No, but I do know a spell that will alter the appearance of small things. I simply made the dock appear to look dry. But the water is still actually there.”

Rhema pulled Semeion inside the storehouse and closed the door quietly. She turned to Charis and a look of panic appeared on her face. “Okay, so what happened to Ischarus? Please tell me that he’s safe and alive.”

Charis looked away, knowing that Rhema had done a good job of keeping her composure up until now. However, it pained her to think of the emotional turmoil that she was about to spring upon her. “He was alive when I left. The conversation we were spying on ended much more suddenly than we thought. I was able to make it to the stairs, but he wasn’t. Instead of getting to the stairs, he jumped down into the hold of the ship. Considering that everyone in the room charged up the stairs after me, I’m assuming that they didn’t know that he was down there.”

Rhema didn’t offer up a response. Her face paled as she thought of Ischarus trapped aboard the ship. She turned to the dock guard and mustered as much charm as she could offer. “Thanks for looking out for me. The thing is that the people aboard that ship are planning some pretty evil things. To keep you from getting implicated in their plan and spending the rest of your life in jail, I wanted to bring you here and keep you safe. I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to you if you didn’t know what you were getting into.”

The dock guard looked a bit confused as the sudden revelation seemed to blindside his life, but Rhema’s mental charm continued to work on him. He didn’t respond, but he did sit down upon the ground and stare at the tied up assassins. He nervously smiled at the rest of the party, wondering about his own fate.

Semeion turned back to Rhema. “You know, if we wait out the Yrraxeans, we could return to the temple. We’ve made good use of the rings of teleportation before. I don’t see why we couldn’t use them one more time to get into the hold of the ship. We could be in and out without them knowing about it.”

Rhema breathed in slowly. She was clearly unhappy with the situation. “Unless they have the ship protected.”

Charis smiled and gave Rhema a loving embrace. “They won’t. They don’t know about our tactics. They didn’t even know that the wizard in Eberdeen had been destroyed. We’ll get him, so long as he is willing to stay put and not try anything heroic.”

They stayed in the storehouse for several hours, keeping everyone quiet. They hadn’t heard the Yrraxeans pass by their location, which was for the best. Had the Yrraxeans passed near their hiding spot, they might have stepped on the wet spots and potentially ruined Semeion’s illusion. As it was, they remained undiscovered.

After several hours, the party decided to head back to the temple. They decided to leave the assassins in the storehouse while they made their way back to the temple. If the assassins were discovered, it wouldn’t hurt their situation. If they weren’t discovered, they would return for them the next day after they had apprehended Allyssa.

When they returned to the temple, Brandt gave Rhema two of the gold rings. “Go and get him. There’s no point sending all of you in. If he’s there, you can give him the spare. If they’re expecting you because they’ve discovered him, it’ll be easier to rescue two of you than four.”

Rhema snatched the rings from Brandt’s hand and slipped one on her finger. She didn’t need any explanation on how they worked; she’d used them enough before. She twisted the ring and immediately thought of the ship’s hold. Since she was able to bring up a vivid image of the ship, the ring’s magic worked perfectly. A second later she appeared in the cargo hold.

The hold was darker than the outside world on a starless and moonless night. There was no light whatsoever flooding into the hold from the floor above where Ischarus and Charis had crouched outside the doorway. However, Rhema’s biology didn’t require her to have light to see in the dark. She could make out several stacks of boxes, although her ability to see them only allowed her to see them in a light shade of gray. 

Even though she could see, Rhema didn’t want to risk making any noise by stumbling around in the ship’s hold. She simply whispered in the dark. “Ischarus?”

The hold was silent for several seconds, so she spoke a little louder. “Ischarus, it’s Rhema. I’ve got a ring that will get us out of here. Are you still down here?”

She waited several more seconds before she heard a soft noise from the other end of the ship. “Rhema? I can’t see you! Where are you?”

Rhema swallowed hard. It sounded like Ischarus, but she realized that it could easily be a trick. With her heightened vision, she scanned the room again but couldn’t see anyone struggling in the dark. She decided to risk shedding a bit of light into the hold so that Ischarus could find her. She reached into her pocket and removed a match. With a single strike, she caused the match to flare up in flame.

She could hear Ischarus chuckle, and then whisper. “I’ll need a bit more light than a match, Rhema.”

Rhema was now beginning to doubt his voice. He should have known that she could see in the dark. She smiled and focused her thoughts on the flame before it burned the whole way down to the end. The flame increased in size until it rivaled the size of a flame dancing upon the end of a torch.

Rhema heard a bit of movement from the direction of Ischarus’ voice. She used her mind control to cause the flame to leave the match and float through the air in the direction of the noise. As soon as the flame moved, she saw Ischarus’ head pop around one of the crates in the ship’s hold. There could be no doubt that it was her husband.

Out of excitement, Rhema forgot about the flame as soon as she saw Ischarus’ head. Since the flame had been feeding off of her mental energy and not the wood of the match, it winked out of existence as soon as Rhema stopped focusing on the flame. The hold of the ship was bathed in complete darkness once again.

Ischarus stopped short and whispered once more. “Rhema, I need light to come to you.”

Rhema walked cautiously towards Ischarus, trying to make as little noise as possible. “True. But I don’t need it to find you. Stay put.” Within seconds Rhema had met up with Ischarus.

Ischarus received her into his arms as she reached him. After they hugged for several seconds, Rhema pulled back and slipped a gold ring into his right palm. She gave him a simple piece of advice. “Put this on and think about Brandt’s office.”

Ischarus didn’t need any more help than that. He slipped the ring on and gave it a twist. Rhema watched his gray form vanish and gave her own ring a twist. In a matter of seconds the party was once more reunited in the temple of Reah. Ischarus stood with his hands over his eyes. After several hours in the darkness of the ship’s hull, his eyes couldn’t take the brilliance of Brandt’s office.

Brandt smiled. “Well done. I doubt they even knew that you were there in that short of time.”

Ischarus smiled. “Well, I’m just glad that’s over. I wondered how long I was going to be in the hold of that ship. I didn’t want to leave, because I didn’t know if I would have to fight my way off.”

Brandt motioned to the seating area in his office that was becoming like a second home to the party. “Care to sit down and tell me what you all learned?”

The party wandered over to the chairs, but the truth was that they were tired after the activity of the day. Charis began to tell the tale. “Well, the truth is that we don’t know much. We know that there is going to be an attempt on Lord Ironblood’s life tomorrow.”

Brandt looked to Charis. “That’s all that you learned?”

Charis continued, noting that Ischarus was still a little overcome with the experience. “Yeah. We confirmed a bunch of things that we had already guessed. And we learned that they really don’t know what happened to the wizard. And we know that it is the Yrraxeans that are behind the attempt. But as far as the immediate plan, all we know is that at some point tomorrow Allyssa is going to assassinate Lord Ironblood with an Ephistaemi dagger. Their hope is that the Ephistaemi are going to be blamed so that the Yrraxeans can come into power. But that part at the end we learned from the wizard.”

Semeion shrugged. “Well, then, it seems like we don’t have much choice. We have to follow Lord Ironblood around tomorrow and hope we get lucky. We already fell for the Ephistaemi dagger rouse, and we fell for it hard. I’d expect the people of Tongra to do the same.”

Rhema shook her head. “No, there is something else we can do. If we can convince Lord Ironblood to allow himself to be replaced with a doppelganger then we might be able to do a bit more.”

Charis wrinkled her forehead as she tried to make sense of Rhema’s suggestion. “Doppleganger? But we don’t have access to that kind of resource, do we?”

Rhema laughed. “Well, if you mean someone who can quite literally change their appearance flawlessly, then not that I am aware of. But we can use a little magic to make an effective disguise.”

Brandt nodded. “I think that may be our best choice. If we can get Lord Ironblood and his people to agree to the plan, it is likely going to be our best chance at ensuring no harm comes to the lord. I’ll handle those details while you all prepare yourself for the morning.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 24, 2007)

*Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION*

The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste.  She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus.  Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons.  Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.

As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise.  For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood.  The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see.  If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion.  While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure.  With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people.  Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need. 

Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise.  Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood.  Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring.  Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.

None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more.  The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her.  He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.

Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body.  The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress.  After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed.  She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her.  Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.

The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt.  When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards.  Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself.  “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist.  I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”

Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees.  The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards.  The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt.  She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp.  She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.

Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror.  She breathed in deeply and muttered some more.  “Well, let’s get this day over with.  Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.”  She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk.  Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.

Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement.  “Wow!  Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”

Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly.  “Don’t you dare!  If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up.  It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry.  Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want.  But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”

Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face.  It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either.  He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction.  It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.

Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard.  As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis.  They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee.  Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise.  She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.

Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply.  “You guys look simply amazing!”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions.  She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience.  She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain.  “He’ll be fine, Rhema.  Brandt has it under control.”

Rhema turned back to Brandt.  “Really?  I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies.  How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”

Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner.  “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him.  She is the goddess of justice.  Do not kid yourself.  If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”

Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema.  Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust.  The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.

Brandt continued.  “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day.  I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life.  But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable.  But rest in Reah’s justice.”

Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words.  She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone.  “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”

Ischarus growled underneath the make-up.  “Rhema!”  Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection.  He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.

Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger.  “The truth?  Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.”  There was little sympathy on his face.

The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger.  However, Brandt had meant it to hurt.  He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along.  Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger.  “Think about it, Rhema.  By using Ischarus, it makes a statement.  It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah.  We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans.  By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot.  It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”

Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through.  “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?”  The venom in her voice was obvious.

Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently.  “They aren’t using me.  I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah.  It is my religion, too.”  His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.

Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger.  As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband.  “Stay out of this!  This is between me and Brandt!”

When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said.  She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either.  They were selfish.  They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people.  She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.

Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally.  Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go.  Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister.  Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean.  “I’ll trust Reah.”

Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket.  She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice.  There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant.  Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt.  She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic.  Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.

Now she had found a new depth inside of her.  She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do.  In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her.  She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own.  She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying.  From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid.  It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands.  On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.

On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense.  The people needed something to believe in.  It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought.  The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in.  They needed life to be about more than themselves.  They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others.  They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security.  This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.

Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do.  Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act.  She needed help getting over her selfish worldview.  She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer.  She needed Reah.

Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears.  Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding.  Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words.  Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her.  Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.

After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face.  She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still.  Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.

Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence.  “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others.  I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost.  But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness.  It felt good to help them.  It felt good knowing that I was making a difference.  But even in my words I betray my selfishness.  Doing good things for other people was still about me.  Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life.  But it was still about me on a very significant level.”

She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing.  “But this is something totally different.  Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus.  It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day.  Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow.  It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it.  It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not.  It isn’t about my role, it is about their result.  Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”

Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love.  A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up.  Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started.  Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus.  They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.  

As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them.  The time for sacrifice was upon them.  It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
*Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION*

The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.

As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need. 

Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.

None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.

Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.

The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”

Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.

Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.

Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”

Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”

Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.

Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.

Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”

Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”

Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”

Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.

Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”

Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”

Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.

Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.

The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”

Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.

Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.

Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”

When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.

Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”

Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.

Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.

On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.

Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.

Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.

After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.

Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”

She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”

Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves. 

As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 28, 2007)

It wasn’t long into the day before Allyssa made her presence known.  The first activity of Lord Ironblood’s day was his morning viewing.  Each day Lord Ironblood appeared on a large porch that overlooked a public garden on the palace estate.  The palace guards allowed a certain number of poor citizens access to the garden each day, and Lord Ironblood used the captive audience to spread his personal propaganda and a few coins.  Of course, not all of his propaganda was false.  Much of it was a means of bringing the common people to an understanding of his goals for the region of Tongra that was under his influence.

There was a healthy suspicion that this would be the event for the day that Allyssa would use for the assassination.  There were a number of reasons that this timetable was believed.  First, this was the largest public event on the lord’s schedule, so if Allyssa was looking for an event to spread the most amount of public panic this would be the natural choice.  Second, an assassination in the morning would provide the maximum amount of time for gossip and panic to set in throughout Lord Ironblood’s region.  Finally, the morning was a likely time for public appearances across the entire region.  There was little doubt that the assassins assumed that word would spread quickly of an assassination attempt.  The attempts would need to be timed accordingly so that they all had an equal chance for success.  The morning hours and the rising of the sun provided a natural timetable.  Of course, Allyssa couldn’t have known that her attempt was to be the only one.

This particular morning, Ischarus wrapped himself in the traditional robes that Lord Ironblood wore to make his balcony address.  He gathered a few of Lord Ironblood’s coins and put them into his pockets.  The coins would each amount to enough money for a family to eat for a week.  Compared to the taxes that Lord Ironblood demanded for protection, however, this money was only a small portion.  For the poor, the coins were a godsend.  For the merchants and nobles, the coin was little more than a trifle.

He turned to the balcony and spotted Master Brandt standing in the wings.  Brandt wouldn’t make an appearance, but he was waiting just in case.  Ischarus smiled and nodded in the direction of the priest of Reah as the time for the appearance drew close.  He breathed in deeply and prepared to step forward.

Semeion and Rhema mingled with the people in the midst of the crowd gathered below.  They were dressed as palace guards and were busy searching the people.  They knew that all of the people had been subjected to a search before entering the palace grounds, but Semeion and Rhema weren’t searching for weapons.  Their eyes jumped from one face to the next in a search to recognize Allyssa.  They knew that she would likely be disguised so that access would be more easily granted.  As they meandered through the crowd, they did not see Allyssa.

It was actually Charis who spotted Allyssa.  Rather than meandering through the crowd, Charis stood directly below the balcony on the top of a short set of raised stairs.  Her placement made her appear to be a guard for the door that opened directly beneath the balcony.  However, she really cared less about the protection of the door.  Instead, she used her elevated position to search above the heads of the gathered poor people and out into the public garden beyond them.  As her eyes slowly scanned the grounds, she spotted a subtle movement in the shadows of several four-foot shrubs.

Allyssa had chosen her position wisely.  She knelt in the middle of a U-shaped formation of red berry shrubs.  The dark green leaves that filled in the shrub formation almost completely blocked her from sight.  It was only the slight movement of the tip of a bow that caught Charis’ attention.  Had she not been at the right angle, it would have looked like a swaying branch in the wind.

Charis wanted to charge Allyssa immediately.  She fought her instinct because she knew that at this point Allyssa could only be charged with conspiracy.  If they wanted to put a significant nail in the Yrraxeans’ plan she would have to wait until her motivation was proven.  She knew to wait for the assassination attempt before charging Allyssa.  It was a dangerous game to play, but it was necessary.

Charis slowly made eye contact with Semeion and Rhema.  Her look informed them that she had spotted their mark.  She glanced in the general direction of Allyssa.  Neither Semeion nor Rhema could make out the shrub formation through the crowd, but they could tell by Charis’ glance that Allyssa was not in the crowd.  Both Semeion and Rhema moved to the back of the gathered poor as inconspicuously as possible.  Once they were behind the people, Charis’ glance led them once more in the direction of the shrubs.  They couldn’t see Allyssa, but they knew that the location made sense.  It was going to be a waiting game.

Ischarus stepped up to edge of the balcony.  The crowd below began to cheer, and Ischarus smiled at them.  The disguise was working.  As Ischarus looked down, he read the position of Semeion and Rhema accurately.  The threat wasn’t going to come from up close.  The fact that Semeion and Rhema stood at the back of the people meant that the attack was going to come from far off and likely on the tip of an arrow.

After making eye contact with several off the poor below the balcony, Ischarus lifted his hands in an open gesture.  Lord Ironblood had informed him to wait until the very last moment before dropping the gold.  The poor were already trained that if they wanted the gold they would need to listen politely to what Lord Ironblood had to say.  As Ischarus’ arms drew wide open, the gathered crowd below him became silent.  Their eyes fixed upon him, waiting for any sign of coin falling from above.

Ischarus began to speak with a confident tone.  “People of Tongra.”

Those would be his only three words.  Allyssa was no fool as well.  She knew that the people would all be looking to Lord Ironblood at the beginning of the speech.  The time to attack with the most potential was in the beginning of the address.  A grim smile appeared on her dark lips.  She heard the bowstring snap and felt the small breeze from the string sending the arrow skyward.  It was a perfect shot.

Ischarus didn’t see the arrow splitting the air as it rushed towards him.  For the sake of the disguise, it was fortunate that he was not aware of the arrow coming towards him.  Had he seen the arrow, instinct would have forced him to dodge the incoming blow.  As a result, Ischarus made no attempt to move out of the way.

The arrow stuck in Ischarus’ throat as he tried to finish the opening of the address.  The blow caught him so cleanly that the air from his lungs that was supposed to form speech slipped out around the shaft of the arrow instead.  The pain bit him hard, and he immediately dropped to his knees.  He looked up to the sky and realized that the brilliant blue sky was quickly fading from blue to gray and then to black.  He didn’t realize that he had slipped from his knees to a position of lying upon his chest.  The force of the fall pushed the arrow shaft deeper through his throat and bent his head at an odd angle.

Brandt charged from where he was waiting.  He knew the sign.  The way Ischarus’ head snapped back was not a good sign.  The green poison that dripped from the wound onto the ground was also not a good sign.  He bent down and only a few moments later rose to his feet.  “Guards!  Our lord is dead!  Find the assassin and bring her to me alive!”

Rhema knew that those words were the command to get Allyssa.  But there was certain seriousness on his face that she had not expected.  Something was wrong with Ischarus, and she knew it.  She forced her eyes away from Brandt and toward the shrubs that Charis had indicated.  As she ran, she spoke under her breath.  “You had better not fail me, Reah.  You had better not fail Ischarus.”

Rhema and Semeion led the charge away from the palace balcony.  The attack was strategic.  They had assumed that the people would begin to scatter upon the declaration that their lord had been assassinated.  In the panic, the palace guards would stay to protect the palace, specifically the palace balcony and the doors below it that gave access to the staging room above.  The capture of the assassin would be up to Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion.

Rhema made the short sprint between the balcony and the shrub formation before Allyssa could fully extract herself.  In truth, Rhema was surprised that Allyssa was not using teleportation magic.  However, she realized that Allyssa was likely counting on the fact that the guards would not know where to find the assassin until she began to flee.  Fortunately for Semeion, Rhema, and Charis this was indeed the case.

The back of Allyssa’s head popped out of the shrub formation just enough for Rhema to see it as she closed the distance between them.  Rhema’s rage surged through her mind and for an instant her eyes rolled back.  She forced her anger into a mental strike and pushed it in the direction of Allyssa.

Allyssa shrieked in pain, but followed the shriek with a loud growl.  She spun around and faced Rhema.  The look on her face confirmed what Rhema already knew.  Allyssa had shrugged off the mental attack.  It had no effect upon her.

Semeion was right behind Charis.  He called upon the magic deep within him.  “Thin Zhendahl quas Fashiir!”  Allyssa saw a mischievous grin cross his lips as he opened his mouth to expel something growing deep within his chest.  A burst of freezing air blew out of his lungs and shot straight through the protective shrub hedge.  The pine needles upon the shrub collected a thin layer of frost as Semeion’s breath passed through them.  Allyssa’s skin felt the chill of the breath beat upon her skin.

Charis was not about to be outdone in the category of magical effects.  “Daancrah Egro Teos!”  She was quick to follow up the magical command with a tactical assertion.  “Tinko and Hubrah, prevent her retreat!”  Semeion smiled when he heard the names.  He knew what to expect.

Rhema also knew what to expect.  Wordlessly Rhema focused once more onto Allyssa.  This time, Allyssa was not subjected to one of Rhema’s stabbing mental attacks.  With this new assault, Allyssa merely vanished into thin air.

Semeion and Charis both stopped in their pursuit.  Neither of them was aware that Rhema had caused Allyssa to vanish.  Semeion spoke first out of his confusion.  “Did we just lose her?  I didn’t see her do anything that could have provoked a teleportation.”

Rhema spun around on her heels with a wide grin on her face.  “I sent her forward in time a few seconds.  Semeion, that draconic breath you just fired needs a bit of time to recharge, right?  And Charis, the servants of Bemme that you just summoned will need a bit of time to get here?  I just bought us that time.  Be prepared, because when she reappears she won’t know that she was sent forward.”

Semeion waited for Charis’ summoned servants to appear and moved into a position so that his magical draconic breath attack wouldn’t affect them.  Rhema also moved into a new position so that she might catch Allyssa by surprise.  Charis waited until her summoned friends arrived from their service at Bemme’s side.  She then positioned each of the divinely inspired giant beetles so that they would block Allyssa’s retreat.  Allyssa would now need to banish them or fight her way through the shrubs.  Either of those options would take time.

Allyssa reappeared in a matter of seconds.  Semeion was waiting for her to reappear and he unleashed another fearsome blast of cold air from within his lungs as soon as he saw Allyssa take form.  More frost gathered upon the needles of the shrubs, and Allyssa’s protective armor began to crack under the sudden chill.  It was trying to shrink under the sudden temperature change.

Charis directed the beetles.  “Attack her, my brothers!  She serves Yrraxea and is our sworn enemy!”  Each of the beetles nipped at Allyssa’s ankles, but she was able to evade their less than subtle attacks.  However, they had served their purpose.  They had distracted Allyssa long enough.

Rhema took full advantage of Allyssa’s distraction.  She launched another one of her mental assaults in Allyssa’s direction.  This assault brutalized Allyssa’s mind and she crumpled to her knees.  Through the use of clever tactics, Allyssa had been brought to her knees without ever allowing her to retaliate.  Rhema stood and glared at Allyssa before glancing in the direction of the balcony.

Charis quickly went to work.  “Thank you for you service, Tinko and Hubrah.  Give my regards to Bemme when you return.”  The giant beetles vanished as Charis dismissed the magic that had brought them from Bemme’s existence in the heavens to her side.  Charis quickly knelt down to bind Allyssa.

Semeion approached from behind.  “You had better check for any magical trinkets she might have been carrying.  I wouldn’t want her suddenly teleporting out of custody because we missed a ring.”

Charis nodded at her husband’s suggestion and began removing as much jewelry as she could.  There would be no harm in removing the jewelry; the prison guards at the city jail would only do the same.  Charis looked up to Semeion, and only then did she notice that Semeion wasn’t really watching her.  He was watching Rhema.

Rhema had waited only long enough for Charis to demonstrate that Allyssa was under her control.  Once she was sure that she was no longer needed, Rhema ran towards the palace.  She called out to the healer as she ran.  “Brandt?  How is Ischarus?”  She got no reply.

Rhema was allowed access to the doorway underneath the balcony.  She burst through the doors and quickly turned to the stairs.  She took the stairs two at a time as she ran up them.  She cursed as her eyes took in the scene.  “Reah, I trusted you!”

Brandt and Ischarus were no longer present.  The only evidence that they had been present on the balcony was in the process of being cleaned by the palace servants.  A small puddle of green poison had been mixed in with Ischarus’ blood.  Rhema watched as a servant dragged the head of a mop over the area several times.  The marble soon looked as though it had never been covered in blood and poison.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
It wasn’t long into the day before Allyssa made her presence known. The first activity of Lord Ironblood’s day was his morning viewing. Each day Lord Ironblood appeared on a large porch that overlooked a public garden on the palace estate. The palace guards allowed a certain number of poor citizens access to the garden each day, and Lord Ironblood used the captive audience to spread his personal propaganda and a few coins. Of course, not all of his propaganda was false. Much of it was a means of bringing the common people to an understanding of his goals for the region of Tongra that was under his influence.

There was a healthy suspicion that this would be the event for the day that Allyssa would use for the assassination. There were a number of reasons that this timetable was believed. First, this was the largest public event on the lord’s schedule, so if Allyssa was looking for an event to spread the most amount of public panic this would be the natural choice. Second, an assassination in the morning would provide the maximum amount of time for gossip and panic to set in throughout Lord Ironblood’s region. Finally, the morning was a likely time for public appearances across the entire region. There was little doubt that the assassins assumed that word would spread quickly of an assassination attempt. The attempts would need to be timed accordingly so that they all had an equal chance for success. The morning hours and the rising of the sun provided a natural timetable. Of course, Allyssa couldn’t have known that her attempt was to be the only one.

This particular morning, Ischarus wrapped himself in the traditional robes that Lord Ironblood wore to make his balcony address. He gathered a few of Lord Ironblood’s coins and put them into his pockets. The coins would each amount to enough money for a family to eat for a week. Compared to the taxes that Lord Ironblood demanded for protection, however, this money was only a small portion. For the poor, the coins were a godsend. For the merchants and nobles, the coin was little more than a trifle.

He turned to the balcony and spotted Master Brandt standing in the wings. Brandt wouldn’t make an appearance, but he was waiting just in case. Ischarus smiled and nodded in the direction of the priest of Reah as the time for the appearance drew close. He breathed in deeply and prepared to step forward.

Semeion and Rhema mingled with the people in the midst of the crowd gathered below. They were dressed as palace guards and were busy searching the people. They knew that all of the people had been subjected to a search before entering the palace grounds, but Semeion and Rhema weren’t searching for weapons. Their eyes jumped from one face to the next in a search to recognize Allyssa. They knew that she would likely be disguised so that access would be more easily granted. As they meandered through the crowd, they did not see Allyssa.

It was actually Charis who spotted Allyssa. Rather than meandering through the crowd, Charis stood directly below the balcony on the top of a short set of raised stairs. Her placement made her appear to be a guard for the door that opened directly beneath the balcony. However, she really cared less about the protection of the door. Instead, she used her elevated position to search above the heads of the gathered poor people and out into the public garden beyond them. As her eyes slowly scanned the grounds, she spotted a subtle movement in the shadows of several four-foot shrubs.

Allyssa had chosen her position wisely. She knelt in the middle of a U-shaped formation of red berry shrubs. The dark green leaves that filled in the shrub formation almost completely blocked her from sight. It was only the slight movement of the tip of a bow that caught Charis’ attention. Had she not been at the right angle, it would have looked like a swaying branch in the wind.

Charis wanted to charge Allyssa immediately. She fought her instinct because she knew that at this point Allyssa could only be charged with conspiracy. If they wanted to put a significant nail in the Yrraxeans’ plan she would have to wait until her motivation was proven. She knew to wait for the assassination attempt before charging Allyssa. It was a dangerous game to play, but it was necessary.

Charis slowly made eye contact with Semeion and Rhema. Her look informed them that she had spotted their mark. She glanced in the general direction of Allyssa. Neither Semeion nor Rhema could make out the shrub formation through the crowd, but they could tell by Charis’ glance that Allyssa was not in the crowd. Both Semeion and Rhema moved to the back of the gathered poor as inconspicuously as possible. Once they were behind the people, Charis’ glance led them once more in the direction of the shrubs. They couldn’t see Allyssa, but they knew that the location made sense. It was going to be a waiting game.

Ischarus stepped up to edge of the balcony. The crowd below began to cheer, and Ischarus smiled at them. The disguise was working. As Ischarus looked down, he read the position of Semeion and Rhema accurately. The threat wasn’t going to come from up close. The fact that Semeion and Rhema stood at the back of the people meant that the attack was going to come from far off and likely on the tip of an arrow.

After making eye contact with several off the poor below the balcony, Ischarus lifted his hands in an open gesture. Lord Ironblood had informed him to wait until the very last moment before dropping the gold. The poor were already trained that if they wanted the gold they would need to listen politely to what Lord Ironblood had to say. As Ischarus’ arms drew wide open, the gathered crowd below him became silent. Their eyes fixed upon him, waiting for any sign of coin falling from above.

Ischarus began to speak with a confident tone. “People of Tongra.”

Those would be his only three words. Allyssa was no fool as well. She knew that the people would all be looking to Lord Ironblood at the beginning of the speech. The time to attack with the most potential was in the beginning of the address. A grim smile appeared on her dark lips. She heard the bowstring snap and felt the small breeze from the string sending the arrow skyward. It was a perfect shot.

Ischarus didn’t see the arrow splitting the air as it rushed towards him. For the sake of the disguise, it was fortunate that he was not aware of the arrow coming towards him. Had he seen the arrow, instinct would have forced him to dodge the incoming blow. As a result, Ischarus made no attempt to move out of the way.

The arrow stuck in Ischarus’ throat as he tried to finish the opening of the address. The blow caught him so cleanly that the air from his lungs that was supposed to form speech slipped out around the shaft of the arrow instead. The pain bit him hard, and he immediately dropped to his knees. He looked up to the sky and realized that the brilliant blue sky was quickly fading from blue to gray and then to black. He didn’t realize that he had slipped from his knees to a position of lying upon his chest. The force of the fall pushed the arrow shaft deeper through his throat and bent his head at an odd angle.

Brandt charged from where he was waiting. He knew the sign. The way Ischarus’ head snapped back was not a good sign. The green poison that dripped from the wound onto the ground was also not a good sign. He bent down and only a few moments later rose to his feet. “Guards! Our lord is dead! Find the assassin and bring her to me alive!”

Rhema knew that those words were the command to get Allyssa. But there was certain seriousness on his face that she had not expected. Something was wrong with Ischarus, and she knew it. She forced her eyes away from Brandt and toward the shrubs that Charis had indicated. As she ran, she spoke under her breath. “You had better not fail me, Reah. You had better not fail Ischarus.”

Rhema and Semeion led the charge away from the palace balcony. The attack was strategic. They had assumed that the people would begin to scatter upon the declaration that their lord had been assassinated. In the panic, the palace guards would stay to protect the palace, specifically the palace balcony and the doors below it that gave access to the staging room above. The capture of the assassin would be up to Rhema, Ischarus, and Semeion.

Rhema made the short sprint between the balcony and the shrub formation before Allyssa could fully extract herself. In truth, Rhema was surprised that Allyssa was not using teleportation magic. However, she realized that Allyssa was likely counting on the fact that the guards would not know where to find the assassin until she began to flee. Fortunately for Semeion, Rhema, and Charis this was indeed the case.

The back of Allyssa’s head popped out of the shrub formation just enough for Rhema to see it as she closed the distance between them. Rhema’s rage surged through her mind and for an instant her eyes rolled back. She forced her anger into a mental strike and pushed it in the direction of Allyssa.

Allyssa shrieked in pain, but followed the shriek with a loud growl. She spun around and faced Rhema. The look on her face confirmed what Rhema already knew. Allyssa had shrugged off the mental attack. It had no effect upon her.

Semeion was right behind Charis. He called upon the magic deep within him. “Thin Zhendahl quas Fashiir!” Allyssa saw a mischievous grin cross his lips as he opened his mouth to expel something growing deep within his chest. A burst of freezing air blew out of his lungs and shot straight through the protective shrub hedge. The pine needles upon the shrub collected a thin layer of frost as Semeion’s breath passed through them. Allyssa’s skin felt the chill of the breath beat upon her skin.

Charis was not about to be outdone in the category of magical effects. “Daancrah Egro Teos!” She was quick to follow up the magical command with a tactical assertion. “Tinko and Hubrah, prevent her retreat!” Semeion smiled when he heard the names. He knew what to expect.

Rhema also knew what to expect. Wordlessly Rhema focused once more onto Allyssa. This time, Allyssa was not subjected to one of Rhema’s stabbing mental attacks. With this new assault, Allyssa merely vanished into thin air.

Semeion and Charis both stopped in their pursuit. Neither of them was aware that Rhema had caused Allyssa to vanish. Semeion spoke first out of his confusion. “Did we just lose her? I didn’t see her do anything that could have provoked a teleportation.”

Rhema spun around on her heels with a wide grin on her face. “I sent her forward in time a few seconds. Semeion, that draconic breath you just fired needs a bit of time to recharge, right? And Charis, the servants of Bemme that you just summoned will need a bit of time to get here? I just bought us that time. Be prepared, because when she reappears she won’t know that she was sent forward.”

Semeion waited for Charis’ summoned servants to appear and moved into a position so that his magical draconic breath attack wouldn’t affect them. Rhema also moved into a new position so that she might catch Allyssa by surprise. Charis waited until her summoned friends arrived from their service at Bemme’s side. She then positioned each of the divinely inspired giant beetles so that they would block Allyssa’s retreat. Allyssa would now need to banish them or fight her way through the shrubs. Either of those options would take time.

Allyssa reappeared in a matter of seconds. Semeion was waiting for her to reappear and he unleashed another fearsome blast of cold air from within his lungs as soon as he saw Allyssa take form. More frost gathered upon the needles of the shrubs, and Allyssa’s protective armor began to crack under the sudden chill. It was trying to shrink under the sudden temperature change.

Charis directed the beetles. “Attack her, my brothers! She serves Yrraxea and is our sworn enemy!” Each of the beetles nipped at Allyssa’s ankles, but she was able to evade their less than subtle attacks. However, they had served their purpose. They had distracted Allyssa long enough.

Rhema took full advantage of Allyssa’s distraction. She launched another one of her mental assaults in Allyssa’s direction. This assault brutalized Allyssa’s mind and she crumpled to her knees. Through the use of clever tactics, Allyssa had been brought to her knees without ever allowing her to retaliate. Rhema stood and glared at Allyssa before glancing in the direction of the balcony.

Charis quickly went to work. “Thank you for you service, Tinko and Hubrah. Give my regards to Bemme when you return.” The giant beetles vanished as Charis dismissed the magic that had brought them from Bemme’s existence in the heavens to her side. Charis quickly knelt down to bind Allyssa.

Semeion approached from behind. “You had better check for any magical trinkets she might have been carrying. I wouldn’t want her suddenly teleporting out of custody because we missed a ring.”

Charis nodded at her husband’s suggestion and began removing as much jewelry as she could. There would be no harm in removing the jewelry; the prison guards at the city jail would only do the same. Charis looked up to Semeion, and only then did she notice that Semeion wasn’t really watching her. He was watching Rhema.

Rhema had waited only long enough for Charis to demonstrate that Allyssa was under her control. Once she was sure that she was no longer needed, Rhema ran towards the palace. She called out to the healer as she ran. “Brandt? How is Ischarus?” She got no reply.

Rhema was allowed access to the doorway underneath the balcony. She burst through the doors and quickly turned to the stairs. She took the stairs two at a time as she ran up them. She cursed as her eyes took in the scene. “Reah, I trusted you!”

Brandt and Ischarus were no longer present. The only evidence that they had been present on the balcony was in the process of being cleaned by the palace servants. A small puddle of green poison had been mixed in with Ischarus’ blood. Rhema watched as a servant dragged the head of a mop over the area several times. The marble soon looked as though it had never been covered in blood and poison.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Aug 30, 2007)

Semeion and Charis managed to bring Allyssa back to consciousness and get her to her feet.  Allyssa struggled against the captivity, but despite her struggles she soon was positioned underneath the balcony.  As they moved, Allyssa hurled nasty insults towards Semeion and Charis regarding the idiocy of Lord Ironblood’s guard.  Neither Semeion nor Charis were impressed.

The guard who had shared a post with Charis smiled as they approached the staircase underneath the balcony.  “It sounds to me like you have a nasty one there.  Tell me, is there bite to her bark or have her fangs been filed off already?”

Allyssa didn’t wait to give a response even though she knew the question wasn’t directed at her.  “You had better hope that I don’t get loose, for I’ll be happy to show you how sharp my fangs are.  I’ll disembowel you while you’re still alive to see it.  Then you’ll know how sharp my fangs are!”  The palace guard delivered a backhanded slap to Allyssa’s mouth, spraying blood as Allyssa’s head jerked towards Charis from the assault.  

Charis wiped some of the blood spatter away from her own face and gave the guard a disapproving glare.  “There’s no need to beat a bound prisoner, sir.  You can’t expect that she’ll actually be able to fight back; and you can’t expect that she’ll take kindly to insults, either.  Besides, her words are nothing more than the dung spread from her dark religion.”

Allyssa laughed.  “Dung?  You will see what dung I spread, you Bemme and Reah loving princess!  If you think that you can keep me in this bondage, you have another thing coming!  You will see just how powerful my faith is.  Yrraxea will not leave me here alone.”

Semeion smiled at the comment.  “I do believe that the city jail has a few cells within it that prohibits magic from working.  In fact, we have experience with them!  Once you go into that prison, you aren’t coming out.”

Allyssa grinned and spoke slowly.  “Heed my warning, mage.  Yrraxea will come to my aid.  Even in Tongra, Yrraxea will come.”

Charis didn’t like her tone, and Allyssa’s facial expression weren’t growing on Charis either.  “I thought that was the point of stopping you?  Oh, and just so we can set the record straight I should also add something very important.  We’ve already stopped the other assassins.  We captured and detained them a few days ago.”

Allyssa looked shocked for a moment before allowing a calm look to spread over her face.  “It is no matter.  You stole Opheiluka from the service of the Queen of Avarice.  I replaced her.  I have no doubt that other replacements have been found already.  In fact, the assassination attempts will likely already be accomplished!”

Charis felt better after hearing Allyssa’s words.  It didn’t sound like she really knew just what the party had been able to accomplish with Brandt and Master Searthu.  “Oh?  I imagine that Ankh-Bahl will have trouble finding recruits from the pit that we banished her into.  By the time she is able to climb out of wherever she came from in the first place, you’ll be old and gray.”

Semeion quickly followed up on Charis’ explanation.  “What you don’t know is that the wizard in Eberdeen who had been working for the service of Yrraxea has been dismissed.  The evil succubus dwelling inside of him has also been dismissed.  With your capture, all the assassins have been caught.  With the wizard and his master destroyed, that doesn’t leave much left of your plan, does it?”

Allyssa didn’t let the words have any effect upon her.  Since her earlier lapse, her face had become as if it were made of stone.  “Does it matter?  I serve the Queen of Avarice.  All things will eventually be hers; there is nothing you can do to stop her advance.  And I still doubt that you can hold me, much less stop my Queen.”

Semeion shook his head at Allyssa’s overstretched confidence.  “We shall see.”

Allyssa allowed the grin to return to her face.  “Indeed.”

Charis wasn’t about to let Allyssa’s dark confidence overshadow the victory that they had just accomplished.  “Indeed.”  She turned to the palace guard.  “I assume that you have a detention center on the premises until she can be housed in until arrangements can be made with Warden Farette?  I’m talking preferably about a jail with magical defenses?”

The palace guard nodded in the affirmative.  “We have both, ma’am.  We’ll take her from here.”

Allyssa remained oddly quiet through this stretch of the conversation.  Her eyes still followed the flow of the conversation, but she didn’t interrupt the communication any longer.  Charis noticed a slight curling of Allyssa’s lips.  She was approving of the conversation.

Charis nodded slowly.  “Very good.  But be careful.  She seems confident, much too confident.”

The guard smiled politely.  “We can handle her, ma’am.  She’s already bound, and we’ll likely just keep her bound until the city jailors arrive.  There’s really nothing to fear.”

Semeion pursed his lips and offered one more suggestion.  “Keep from beating her, too.  She’s all but defenseless and beaten already.  There is no sense making a cornered dog even angrier.”

The guard nodded and the door opened behind him.  The opening of the door startled him, and he spun around in a defensive posture.  He was met by Rhema coming through the other side, and she was as startled to see him as he was to see her.

Rhema laughed once the initial start had passed through her.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t think that you all would be this close to the door.”  She looked to Allyssa and then to Charis and Semeion.  “Are you all about ready to get back to the temple?  Brandt and Ischarus are gone, and if you don’t mind I’d like to get there.”

Allyssa grinned as she heard the concern in Rhema’s voice.  “Oh, don’t worry.  The poison on the arrow has likely killed him already.”  She had already begun to understand that her assassination attempt here had been foiled by an intricate deception.

Rhema bristled at the thought, and Charis was quick to divert her concentration.  She spoke to the guard to bring the conversation back under control.  “If you can take her from here, we’ll be on our way.”

The guard nodded and took control of the bonds that had her tied in the back.  He pushed her in the back to get her to climb the steps in front of her.  When they had passed through the door, Rhema closed it from the outside.  As the door clicked shut, she turned back to her friends.

Rhema was clearly unsettled by Allyssa’s assertion.  “Shall we?  I know Brandt is a great healer and we were expecting poison.  But I’ll just feel better once we get there.”

Charis and Semeion both flanked Rhema and embraced her.  Charis decided that she would risk speaking out of her faith.  “Ischarus is fine, remember?  You left him in Reah’s care.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and began to walk down the steps.  Semeion and Charis remained at her side and kept the pace that Rhema set.  It wouldn’t take them too long to get from the palace to the center of town where the temple sat.

When they reached the edge of the palace garden, the guard at the gate smiled and let them through.  “I understand that the lord’s life was saved today.  Thank you all.”

Rhema smiled half-heartedly.  She hoped that the sacrifice hadn’t been too much.  However, it was Semeion who answered.  “A life was saved, but the greatest implication has yet to be announced.  Fingerdale is safe today, and with any luck the lack of news on this day will be the only thank-you that we need.”

They passed through the gate and walked about ten feet before the guard called to them again.  “Sir!  Madams!”

The trio slowly turned back around to face the guard at the gate.  He gestured backwards and pointed toward the palace.  A guard was running to meet up with what was currently left of the party.  Semeion motioned for Rhema and Charis to stay where they were.

Semeion walked back to the gate and gripped the iron bars that now kept him out.  When the guard who was running towards them approached the gate, he slowed and took a moment to catch his breath.  “Sir, There’s been an incident.”

Semeion was displeased.  They had just taken care of the last of Yrraxea’s threats and he wanted to enjoy to peace that came from that knowledge.  “What kind of incident?”

The guard looked straight towards Semeion and spoke hurriedly.  “The captive tried to escape her bonds and was successful for a short amount of time.  She managed to steal one of the guard’s blades and a quick battle ensued.  One of our guards is dead, but the captive was killed as well.  I thought you should know.”

Semeion cursed slightly.  They had wanted Allyssa alive for purposes of interrogation.  He turned to Charis.  “Why don’t you take Rhema back to the temple?  She deserves to go to her husband after all the stress of today.  If Allyssa is dead, there’s no threat to me here anymore.  I’ll stay, investigate, and then meet up with you both back at the temple.”

Charis nodded and directed Rhema to come with her.  Rhema readily accepted, happy to head towards the temple.  Charis turned around once more to see the guard closing the iron door that only moments ago had kept Semeion apart from the guards.  She turned back towards the direction she was walking as the door clicked back into its place of security.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion and Charis managed to bring Allyssa back to consciousness and get her to her feet. Allyssa struggled against the captivity, but despite her struggles she soon was positioned underneath the balcony. As they moved, Allyssa hurled nasty insults towards Semeion and Charis regarding the idiocy of Lord Ironblood’s guard. Neither Semeion nor Charis were impressed.

The guard who had shared a post with Charis smiled as they approached the staircase underneath the balcony. “It sounds to me like you have a nasty one there. Tell me, is there bite to her bark or have her fangs been filed off already?”

Allyssa didn’t wait to give a response even though she knew the question wasn’t directed at her. “You had better hope that I don’t get loose, for I’ll be happy to show you how sharp my fangs are. I’ll disembowel you while you’re still alive to see it. Then you’ll know how sharp my fangs are!” The palace guard delivered a backhanded slap to Allyssa’s mouth, spraying blood as Allyssa’s head jerked towards Charis from the assault. 

Charis wiped some of the blood spatter away from her own face and gave the guard a disapproving glare. “There’s no need to beat a bound prisoner, sir. You can’t expect that she’ll actually be able to fight back; and you can’t expect that she’ll take kindly to insults, either. Besides, her words are nothing more than the dung spread from her dark religion.”

Allyssa laughed. “Dung? You will see what dung I spread, you Bemme and Reah loving princess! If you think that you can keep me in this bondage, you have another thing coming! You will see just how powerful my faith is. Yrraxea will not leave me here alone.”

Semeion smiled at the comment. “I do believe that the city jail has a few cells within it that prohibits magic from working. In fact, we have experience with them! Once you go into that prison, you aren’t coming out.”

Allyssa grinned and spoke slowly. “Heed my warning, mage. Yrraxea will come to my aid. Even in Tongra, Yrraxea will come.”

Charis didn’t like her tone, and Allyssa’s facial expression weren’t growing on Charis either. “I thought that was the point of stopping you? Oh, and just so we can set the record straight I should also add something very important. We’ve already stopped the other assassins. We captured and detained them a few days ago.”

Allyssa looked shocked for a moment before allowing a calm look to spread over her face. “It is no matter. You stole Opheiluka from the service of the Queen of Avarice. I replaced her. I have no doubt that other replacements have been found already. In fact, the assassination attempts will likely already be accomplished!”

Charis felt better after hearing Allyssa’s words. It didn’t sound like she really knew just what the party had been able to accomplish with Brandt and Master Searthu. “Oh? I imagine that Ankh-Bahl will have trouble finding recruits from the pit that we banished her into. By the time she is able to climb out of wherever she came from in the first place, you’ll be old and gray.”

Semeion quickly followed up on Charis’ explanation. “What you don’t know is that the wizard in Eberdeen who had been working for the service of Yrraxea has been dismissed. The evil succubus dwelling inside of him has also been dismissed. With your capture, all the assassins have been caught. With the wizard and his master destroyed, that doesn’t leave much left of your plan, does it?”

Allyssa didn’t let the words have any effect upon her. Since her earlier lapse, her face had become as if it were made of stone. “Does it matter? I serve the Queen of Avarice. All things will eventually be hers; there is nothing you can do to stop her advance. And I still doubt that you can hold me, much less stop my Queen.”

Semeion shook his head at Allyssa’s overstretched confidence. “We shall see.”

Allyssa allowed the grin to return to her face. “Indeed.”

Charis wasn’t about to let Allyssa’s dark confidence overshadow the victory that they had just accomplished. “Indeed.” She turned to the palace guard. “I assume that you have a detention center on the premises until she can be housed in until arrangements can be made with Warden Farette? I’m talking preferably about a jail with magical defenses?”

The palace guard nodded in the affirmative. “We have both, ma’am. We’ll take her from here.”

Allyssa remained oddly quiet through this stretch of the conversation. Her eyes still followed the flow of the conversation, but she didn’t interrupt the communication any longer. Charis noticed a slight curling of Allyssa’s lips. She was approving of the conversation.

Charis nodded slowly. “Very good. But be careful. She seems confident, much too confident.”

The guard smiled politely. “We can handle her, ma’am. She’s already bound, and we’ll likely just keep her bound until the city jailors arrive. There’s really nothing to fear.”

Semeion pursed his lips and offered one more suggestion. “Keep from beating her, too. She’s all but defenseless and beaten already. There is no sense making a cornered dog even angrier.”

The guard nodded and the door opened behind him. The opening of the door startled him, and he spun around in a defensive posture. He was met by Rhema coming through the other side, and she was as startled to see him as he was to see her.

Rhema laughed once the initial start had passed through her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you all would be this close to the door.” She looked to Allyssa and then to Charis and Semeion. “Are you all about ready to get back to the temple? Brandt and Ischarus are gone, and if you don’t mind I’d like to get there.”

Allyssa grinned as she heard the concern in Rhema’s voice. “Oh, don’t worry. The poison on the arrow has likely killed him already.” She had already begun to understand that her assassination attempt here had been foiled by an intricate deception.

Rhema bristled at the thought, and Charis was quick to divert her concentration. She spoke to the guard to bring the conversation back under control. “If you can take her from here, we’ll be on our way.”

The guard nodded and took control of the bonds that had her tied in the back. He pushed her in the back to get her to climb the steps in front of her. When they had passed through the door, Rhema closed it from the outside. As the door clicked shut, she turned back to her friends.

Rhema was clearly unsettled by Allyssa’s assertion. “Shall we? I know Brandt is a great healer and we were expecting poison. But I’ll just feel better once we get there.”

Charis and Semeion both flanked Rhema and embraced her. Charis decided that she would risk speaking out of her faith. “Ischarus is fine, remember? You left him in Reah’s care.”

Rhema breathed in deeply and began to walk down the steps. Semeion and Charis remained at her side and kept the pace that Rhema set. It wouldn’t take them too long to get from the palace to the center of town where the temple sat.

When they reached the edge of the palace garden, the guard at the gate smiled and let them through. “I understand that the lord’s life was saved today. Thank you all.”

Rhema smiled half-heartedly. She hoped that the sacrifice hadn’t been too much. However, it was Semeion who answered. “A life was saved, but the greatest implication has yet to be announced. Fingerdale is safe today, and with any luck the lack of news on this day will be the only thank-you that we need.”

They passed through the gate and walked about ten feet before the guard called to them again. “Sir! Madams!”

The trio slowly turned back around to face the guard at the gate. He gestured backwards and pointed toward the palace. A guard was running to meet up with what was currently left of the party. Semeion motioned for Rhema and Charis to stay where they were.

Semeion walked back to the gate and gripped the iron bars that now kept him out. When the guard who was running towards them approached the gate, he slowed and took a moment to catch his breath. “Sir, There’s been an incident.”

Semeion was displeased. They had just taken care of the last of Yrraxea’s threats and he wanted to enjoy to peace that came from that knowledge. “What kind of incident?”

The guard looked straight towards Semeion and spoke hurriedly. “The captive tried to escape her bonds and was successful for a short amount of time. She managed to steal one of the guard’s blades and a quick battle ensued. One of our guards is dead, but the captive was killed as well. I thought you should know.”

Semeion cursed slightly. They had wanted Allyssa alive for purposes of interrogation. He turned to Charis. “Why don’t you take Rhema back to the temple? She deserves to go to her husband after all the stress of today. If Allyssa is dead, there’s no threat to me here anymore. I’ll stay, investigate, and then meet up with you both back at the temple.”

Charis nodded and directed Rhema to come with her. Rhema readily accepted, happy to head towards the temple. Charis turned around once more to see the guard closing the iron door that only moments ago had kept Semeion apart from the guards. She turned back towards the direction she was walking as the door clicked back into its place of security.

[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Sep 3, 2007)

Semeion jogged with the palace guard back to the doorway below the porch.  They quickly entered the palace and briskly walked down the hallway to where the battle had taken place.  Blood smeared the walls and floor, but there was no other evidence of the struggle.  The hallway had been cleared of people.

The guard turned to Semeion and spoke.  He was explaining the obvious lack of people in an attempt to assume Semeion’s question.  “Those who were injured in the battle were taken to the infirmary.  Allyssa was no doubt taken to a storeroom where her body could rest until the gravediggers could prepare a proper grave.  No special grave, mind you.  But even criminals deserve a proper burial.”

Semeion smiled.  “No doubt.  What else would we do with a body?  Can you find out where Allyssa was taken for certain?  I’d like to examine her body.”

The guard nodded.  “Well, we’ll head down to the infirmary anyway, then.  It’s my guess that those who were taken there will know where we should look.”

Semeion followed the guard down the hall until the came across an intersection.  The pair turned right into the more narrow side hallway.  After passing several doorways, the guard motioned for Semeion to enter into a doorway to the right.  As Semeion opened the door, the smell of alcohol and herbal rubs assaulted his nose.

The guard entered and breathed in deeply.  “I’ve always loved the smell of mint, menthol, and cleansing alcohol rubs.  It cleans the nose and makes it easier to breathe.”

Semeion nodded, but internally he didn’t agree.  Surely he’d take the infirmary over that of a dank and musty cellar, but he much preferred the smell of a library filled with old books, parchment, and vellum.  A slight smile passed over his face as he imagined his old master’s study where he first became acquainted with his favorite smell.

The guard turned to the physician on duty.  He was busy preparing a bandage for one of the wounded guards.  “Excuse me, but can you tell me where the body of the assassin ended up?  This man here wants to inspect the body.”

The physician didn’t look up from the bandage that he was preparing.  “She’s in the storeroom at the end of the hall.  She’s furthest out of the way there and nearest to the back entrance for pick-up.”

Semeion addressed the physician, breathing as shallowly as possible.  “And the guard that she killed?  Will we find him there as well?”

This time, the physician did look up.  He must not have recognized Semeion’s voice.  Once he looked upon Semeion and knew the face of the man that he was addressing, the physician finished folding the bandage.  He answered Semeion’s question as he approached one of the wounded guards.  “No, sir.  We kept the guard here in the cold room.  His body will be preserved and buried honorably.”

Semeion nodded and turned to the guard.  “Well, then I suggest we start with the woman before she smells too much of death.”

The physician motioned for the patient to hold onto the bandage and then he stood up.  He crossed over to his bench and rifled his fingers through the contents of a glass jar.  He removed two small cloth pouches that were about one inch square.  “Depending on how long you all are planning on being in there, these pouches might help.  Hold them under your nose and it’ll help keep your nose from noticing the smell of death.”

The guard took the pouches from the physician, but it was Semeion who spoke.  “Thank you, but I doubt that we’ll be that long.”

Semeion and the guard turned and left the physician’s workroom.  Semeion appreciated the lessoning of the alcohol and herbal smells once they arrived in the hallway.  The guard turned him in the proper direction and they marched down the hall to the store room.  The guard slipped his hand into the heavy metal handle and pulled it straight out from the wall.  Once the lock was released, the guard lifted the handle up towards the ceiling.  “They probably put her up near the front.  The grave boys will be by before too long.  They won’t want the smell infecting the rest of the stuff stored here in the room.”

Semeion walked in and spotted a red stained sheet.  The light yellow hue of the sheet spoke of its faded and well used nature.  Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows and stopped in the middle of the doorway as he looked to the sheet.  It wasn’t laying right.  “It’s too flat.”

The guard wasn’t ready for him to stop in the doorway, and he nearly ran into him.  “What?”

Semeion shook his head.  “The sheet, or rather, the body.  There isn’t enough room there to have a body underneath it.”

Semeion slowly approached the sheet and rested his hand upon it.  Sure enough, Semeion’s hand compressed the sheet until he felt the small stack of boxes upon which she had been laid.  “She’s gone.  The body is gone!”

The guard popped his head into the room and double checked Semeion’s claim.  “Someone took the body?”

Semeion smiled as he looked back to the guard.  “Perhaps.”  He enjoyed any attempt to use his magic.  “Thizzle Sooth.”

Semeion began to look at the world with a newer understanding.  The area just above and below the sheet appeared to glow as Semeion studied the sheet.  There were two distinct auras that his eyes were picking up.

Semeion talked his way through his observation.  “Two distinct magical spells have been cast here.  One of the spells was clearly stronger than the other.  From the auras left behind, I can see that one of them was quite a powerful aura.  In fact,” Semeion’s voice paused as his mind considered the information that his eyes were seeing.  “One of them is teleportation magic, I’m sure of it.  I need to get back to the temple and talk to Brandt.”

The guard stopped Semeion.  “Now, wait a minute.  What do I say to my superiors?”

Semeion looked over the guard’s shoulder, wishing that he was already walking down the hall.  “Tell them exactly what happened.  Tell them that the body has been magically removed.  And tell them that if they need a person to collaborate your story that they can find me at the Temple of Reah.  Tell them to ask for Master Brandt.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and speak to that same man about what I saw here.”

The guard heard the urgency in Semeion’s words.  “Very well.  You’ll be at the Temple of Reah?  Is Brandt the man that was here this morning?”

Semeion nodded and brushed past the guard, who allowed him to pass.  Before long, Semeion had exited Lord Ironblood’s palace estate.  He knew the way back to the temple and took no time in returning.  When he had climbed the steps to the temple and opened the door, he nodded politely to the acolyte that moved to greet him.  “I know the way to Master Brandt’s office, thank you.”

Semeion hurried down the hallway, knowing that the information he possessed needed to be sorted through.  He knocked solidly upon the door and waited for Brandt to open it.  To his surprise, it was actually Ischarus who opened the door.  

Semeion glanced at the scar left on his neck from Allyssa’s attack.  “Ischarus!  Good to see that the arrow didn’t do you in!”  He embraced his friend in as strong of a hug as he could muster.

Ischarus returned the hug and explained what had happened to him.  “Reah was with me the whole time, and Brandt made sure that I was in good care.  He saw the evidence of the poison immediately, and he used the magic that Reah had given to him to counteract the poison.  Brandt knew that I was still very wounded, so he teleported me here to the care of the healers.  They fixed me up before the wound could get any worse, although they say I might always bear a scar to remind me of the attack.”

Rhema slid around the door and slipped her arm inside of Ischarus’ elbow.  “Reah was with him, and all of us.  And I’ve been kidding him for a while know that he’d look good in a beard.  Maybe now he’ll grow one and cover over any scar that’s left.”

Semeion smiled and stepped into Brandt’s office.  Charis looked up to him and returned his smile.  “Well?  Is she dead?”

Semeion shook his head.  “No, I think that she’s quite alive.  Not only that, but she’s gone completely.”

Ischarus turned sharply to look at Semeion.  “What?  After all that we went through?”

Brandt smacked the top of his desk with his clenched fist.  “Of course!  The bumbling fools.  They forgot to look for magic.  I was bothered by the fact that Allyssa didn’t seem concerned that we were getting too close.  I was even concerned that the assassination attempt was actually happening when she knew that we were onto her.  With all of those Yrraxean priests around, she had to have magical protection guarding her.  In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had some sort of spell that was designed to revive her and teleport her away should she be killed.”

Charis turned and looked to Brandt.  “Revive her?  You mean, of course, to resurrect her?”

Brandt nodded.  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.  She likely had a contingent spell to resurrect her and transport her away.”

Semeion looked confused.  “Resurrection?  Why would a god or goddess allow that to happen?  I mean, if a follower of Reah dies, then they go to Reah and leave this world behind them.  Why would they want to come back here?  And why would Yrraxea give up her hold on a person once they have died and gone to the pit of her dark realm?”

Brandt nodded, and noticed that Rhema was paying particularly close attention.  He also noticed that Ophee was listening hard for his reply as well.  “You’re right, Semeion.  Resurrections never happen with true followers of good gods and goddesses.  Once you’ve passed on to paradise, what could convince you to come back?  But the evil gods and goddesses enable the power to exist within the world as a bargaining chip.  The gods and goddesses of evil are willing to make bargains in trade for worship.  They allow loved ones to return under the exchange that when both the loved one and the one who bargained for their return die again the god or goddess retains possession of both.  You can see why they would be interested in the release of their own dead.  If releasing one dead now assures the return of two worshippers in the future, it really is just a matter of economics.”

Charis was still slightly confused by the explanation.  “If that’s true, then why doesn’t Reah give that kind of deal?  Think about all the loyal followers who might come to Reah under the agreement of having a loved one back?”

Brandt nodded and smiled.  “I’ve often thought like that.  It makes sense to us from our current position.  But think about it from the perspective of the dead.  What kind of act pulls someone away from absolute paradise and perfection only to return to this life?  It is an act of selfishness on behalf of those of us who are still alive.  We want the loved one back for our sake.  If we were truly concerned about what is best for the loved one, we’d know that we want them to stay in paradise with their god or goddess.  When I die, I want to stay with Reah and await the companionship of my loved ones from there.”

Rhema frowned, but secretly understood the expression.  So long as people were following the paths of the good gods and goddesses, resurrection was a truly selfish act.  She decided it was time to change the conversation.  “So what of Allyssa?  Someone bargained away their own life so that she could live again.  Why would they want her alive, especially since she botched the assassination?”

A pale look formed over Ischarus’ face.  “What if we have the wrong assassination?  If they went to the extreme of putting a spell upon the assassin in case she died, could they have also put a spell on her that would immediately take them to another place where one of the assassinations failed?”

Brandt and Semeion both nodded, but Brandt was the one who spoke.  “It’s certainly possible.”

Semeion followed up Brandt’s confirmation.  “But which one?  Thanks to us, they all failed!”

The party was surprised that it was Ophee who figured it out first.  “King Rupert.  That is the most important one.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Semeion jogged with the palace guard back to the doorway below the porch. They quickly entered the palace and briskly walked down the hallway to where the battle had taken place. Blood smeared the walls and floor, but there was no other evidence of the struggle. The hallway had been cleared of people.

The guard turned to Semeion and spoke. He was explaining the obvious lack of people in an attempt to assume Semeion’s question. “Those who were injured in the battle were taken to the infirmary. Allyssa was no doubt taken to a storeroom where her body could rest until the gravediggers could prepare a proper grave. No special grave, mind you. But even criminals deserve a proper burial.”

Semeion smiled. “No doubt. What else would we do with a body? Can you find out where Allyssa was taken for certain? I’d like to examine her body.”

The guard nodded. “Well, we’ll head down to the infirmary anyway, then. It’s my guess that those who were taken there will know where we should look.”

Semeion followed the guard down the hall until the came across an intersection. The pair turned right into the more narrow side hallway. After passing several doorways, the guard motioned for Semeion to enter into a doorway to the right. As Semeion opened the door, the smell of alcohol and herbal rubs assaulted his nose.

The guard entered and breathed in deeply. “I’ve always loved the smell of mint, menthol, and cleansing alcohol rubs. It cleans the nose and makes it easier to breathe.”

Semeion nodded, but internally he didn’t agree. Surely he’d take the infirmary over that of a dank and musty cellar, but he much preferred the smell of a library filled with old books, parchment, and vellum. A slight smile passed over his face as he imagined his old master’s study where he first became acquainted with his favorite smell.

The guard turned to the physician on duty. He was busy preparing a bandage for one of the wounded guards. “Excuse me, but can you tell me where the body of the assassin ended up? This man here wants to inspect the body.”

The physician didn’t look up from the bandage that he was preparing. “She’s in the storeroom at the end of the hall. She’s furthest out of the way there and nearest to the back entrance for pick-up.”

Semeion addressed the physician, breathing as shallowly as possible. “And the guard that she killed? Will we find him there as well?”

This time, the physician did look up. He must not have recognized Semeion’s voice. Once he looked upon Semeion and knew the face of the man that he was addressing, the physician finished folding the bandage. He answered Semeion’s question as he approached one of the wounded guards. “No, sir. We kept the guard here in the cold room. His body will be preserved and buried honorably.”

Semeion nodded and turned to the guard. “Well, then I suggest we start with the woman before she smells too much of death.”

The physician motioned for the patient to hold onto the bandage and then he stood up. He crossed over to his bench and rifled his fingers through the contents of a glass jar. He removed two small cloth pouches that were about one inch square. “Depending on how long you all are planning on being in there, these pouches might help. Hold them under your nose and it’ll help keep your nose from noticing the smell of death.”

The guard took the pouches from the physician, but it was Semeion who spoke. “Thank you, but I doubt that we’ll be that long.”

Semeion and the guard turned and left the physician’s workroom. Semeion appreciated the lessoning of the alcohol and herbal smells once they arrived in the hallway. The guard turned him in the proper direction and they marched down the hall to the store room. The guard slipped his hand into the heavy metal handle and pulled it straight out from the wall. Once the lock was released, the guard lifted the handle up towards the ceiling. “They probably put her up near the front. The grave boys will be by before too long. They won’t want the smell infecting the rest of the stuff stored here in the room.”

Semeion walked in and spotted a red stained sheet. The light yellow hue of the sheet spoke of its faded and well used nature. Semeion wrinkled his eyebrows and stopped in the middle of the doorway as he looked to the sheet. It wasn’t laying right. “It’s too flat.”

The guard wasn’t ready for him to stop in the doorway, and he nearly ran into him. “What?”

Semeion shook his head. “The sheet, or rather, the body. There isn’t enough room there to have a body underneath it.”

Semeion slowly approached the sheet and rested his hand upon it. Sure enough, Semeion’s hand compressed the sheet until he felt the small stack of boxes upon which she had been laid. “She’s gone. The body is gone!”

The guard popped his head into the room and double checked Semeion’s claim. “Someone took the body?”

Semeion smiled as he looked back to the guard. “Perhaps.” He enjoyed any attempt to use his magic. “Thizzle Sooth.”

Semeion began to look at the world with a newer understanding. The area just above and below the sheet appeared to glow as Semeion studied the sheet. There were two distinct auras that his eyes were picking up.

Semeion talked his way through his observation. “Two distinct magical spells have been cast here. One of the spells was clearly stronger than the other. From the auras left behind, I can see that one of them was quite a powerful aura. In fact,” Semeion’s voice paused as his mind considered the information that his eyes were seeing. “One of them is teleportation magic, I’m sure of it. I need to get back to the temple and talk to Brandt.”

The guard stopped Semeion. “Now, wait a minute. What do I say to my superiors?”

Semeion looked over the guard’s shoulder, wishing that he was already walking down the hall. “Tell them exactly what happened. Tell them that the body has been magically removed. And tell them that if they need a person to collaborate your story that they can find me at the Temple of Reah. Tell them to ask for Master Brandt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and speak to that same man about what I saw here.”

The guard heard the urgency in Semeion’s words. “Very well. You’ll be at the Temple of Reah? Is Brandt the man that was here this morning?”

Semeion nodded and brushed past the guard, who allowed him to pass. Before long, Semeion had exited Lord Ironblood’s palace estate. He knew the way back to the temple and took no time in returning. When he had climbed the steps to the temple and opened the door, he nodded politely to the acolyte that moved to greet him. “I know the way to Master Brandt’s office, thank you.”

Semeion hurried down the hallway, knowing that the information he possessed needed to be sorted through. He knocked solidly upon the door and waited for Brandt to open it. To his surprise, it was actually Ischarus who opened the door. 

Semeion glanced at the scar left on his neck from Allyssa’s attack. “Ischarus! Good to see that the arrow didn’t do you in!” He embraced his friend in as strong of a hug as he could muster.

Ischarus returned the hug and explained what had happened to him. “Reah was with me the whole time, and Brandt made sure that I was in good care. He saw the evidence of the poison immediately, and he used the magic that Reah had given to him to counteract the poison. Brandt knew that I was still very wounded, so he teleported me here to the care of the healers. They fixed me up before the wound could get any worse, although they say I might always bear a scar to remind me of the attack.”

Rhema slid around the door and slipped her arm inside of Ischarus’ elbow. “Reah was with him, and all of us. And I’ve been kidding him for a while know that he’d look good in a beard. Maybe now he’ll grow one and cover over any scar that’s left.”

Semeion smiled and stepped into Brandt’s office. Charis looked up to him and returned his smile. “Well? Is she dead?”

Semeion shook his head. “No, I think that she’s quite alive. Not only that, but she’s gone completely.”

Ischarus turned sharply to look at Semeion. “What? After all that we went through?”

Brandt smacked the top of his desk with his clenched fist. “Of course! The bumbling fools. They forgot to look for magic. I was bothered by the fact that Allyssa didn’t seem concerned that we were getting too close. I was even concerned that the assassination attempt was actually happening when she knew that we were onto her. With all of those Yrraxean priests around, she had to have magical protection guarding her. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had some sort of spell that was designed to revive her and teleport her away should she be killed.”

Charis turned and looked to Brandt. “Revive her? You mean, of course, to resurrect her?”

Brandt nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. She likely had a contingent spell to resurrect her and transport her away.”

Semeion looked confused. “Resurrection? Why would a god or goddess allow that to happen? I mean, if a follower of Reah dies, then they go to Reah and leave this world behind them. Why would they want to come back here? And why would Yrraxea give up her hold on a person once they have died and gone to the pit of her dark realm?”

Brandt nodded, and noticed that Rhema was paying particularly close attention. He also noticed that Ophee was listening hard for his reply as well. “You’re right, Semeion. Resurrections never happen with true followers of good gods and goddesses. Once you’ve passed on to paradise, what could convince you to come back? But the evil gods and goddesses enable the power to exist within the world as a bargaining chip. The gods and goddesses of evil are willing to make bargains in trade for worship. They allow loved ones to return under the exchange that when both the loved one and the one who bargained for their return die again the god or goddess retains possession of both. You can see why they would be interested in the release of their own dead. If releasing one dead now assures the return of two worshippers in the future, it really is just a matter of economics.”

Charis was still slightly confused by the explanation. “If that’s true, then why doesn’t Reah give that kind of deal? Think about all the loyal followers who might come to Reah under the agreement of having a loved one back?”

Brandt nodded and smiled. “I’ve often thought like that. It makes sense to us from our current position. But think about it from the perspective of the dead. What kind of act pulls someone away from absolute paradise and perfection only to return to this life? It is an act of selfishness on behalf of those of us who are still alive. We want the loved one back for our sake. If we were truly concerned about what is best for the loved one, we’d know that we want them to stay in paradise with their god or goddess. When I die, I want to stay with Reah and await the companionship of my loved ones from there.”

Rhema frowned, but secretly understood the expression. So long as people were following the paths of the good gods and goddesses, resurrection was a truly selfish act. She decided it was time to change the conversation. “So what of Allyssa? Someone bargained away their own life so that she could live again. Why would they want her alive, especially since she botched the assassination?”

A pale look formed over Ischarus’ face. “What if we have the wrong assassination? If they went to the extreme of putting a spell upon the assassin in case she died, could they have also put a spell on her that would immediately take them to another place where one of the assassinations failed?”

Brandt and Semeion both nodded, but Brandt was the one who spoke. “It’s certainly possible.”

Semeion followed up Brandt’s confirmation. “But which one? Thanks to us, they all failed!”

The party was surprised that it was Ophee who figured it out first. “King Rupert. That is the most important one.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 6, 2007)

Brandt nodded.  “Of course.  But even if the teleportation wasn’t to King Rupert and Eberdeen, he’s the one that we need to investigate first.”

Ischarus agreed.  “Yeah.  We need to make sure the king is safe before we check on all the other barons, lords, earls, and counts of Tongra.  If the king is safe, other damage will be secondary and easier to overcome.”

Rhema lifted a finger to indicate that she was on the verge of thinking something through.  “Wait a minute, here.  The wizard’s chamber was a part of the Wizard’s College, and that was in Eberdeen.  Since Allyssa was in the service of the wizard, is it possible that she went back to the college after her death and apparent resurrection?”

Semeion shook his head.  “But, the Wizard’s College has special protection against teleportations.  Remember, we couldn’t teleport directly into the Wizard’s College with Ophee.  That’s why we had to meet the wizard outside one time and force our way in during the second.”

Ophee shook her head and smiled.  “Actually, if the wizard was the originator of the spell, and by that I mean that if it was his magic, then it would circumvent the protective barrier.  My former master used that trick on me many times.  For that matter, if Allyssa had a ring created by my former master’s magic it would probably work.”

Ischarus pivoted so that he was facing Ophee.  “Oh?  Even with the wizard dead and his demonic possessor banished?”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders.  “I don’t know.  I suppose it would depend on how long it took the Wizard’s College security organization to remove the wizard’s signature magic from the list of accepted mages.  I’m just guessing here.”

Charis turned back to Semeion for answers regarding the realm of magic.  “If she tried to use the teleportation magic and it was refused, would it work to ant extent?”

Semeion shrugged his shoulders and looked to Brandt.  “It wouldn’t let her through, that’s for certain.”

Brandt picked up the explanation where Semeion had left it off.  “There are a number of possibilities, depending on how the Wizard’s College has their anti-teleportation magic designed.  If Allyssa did try to teleport into the Wizard’s College she could be delayed in a sort of stasis until released.  Of course, that would give the Wizard’s College time to prepare for her arrival.  This would be the most involved solution, and the solution that I would least expect.  The maintenance for such a system would be incredibly involved.  Every attempt to teleport in would have to be handled - and likely in various locations, too.”

Brandt paused for a moment to breathe before continuing.  “Their defense could outright reject the magic from occurring.  But I doubt that this answer is likely as well.  It wouldn’t allow the Wizard’s College security to have the ability to know who is trying to gain access to their location.  My guess is that their protective magic is really just a form of diversion.  Anyone or anything that is not approved that teleports into a protected area is automatically diverted to a special room.  In that way, the security can be relatively contained and managed.  If I were designing a protective barrier, I would choose the one that redirects incoming teleportations.  That would allow for a combination of the least amount of variation but the most amount of information gained.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt and replied.  “So, if Allyssa tried to teleport, then we may be able to contact the Wizard’s College and see if they intercepted her?”

Brandt grinned.  “Better yet, how about I just teleport you to all to Eberdeen and you can question the Wizard’s College guard yourself?  It may take time to communicate via magic, but good old fashioned knocking on their front door will always work.  And, since you won’t be teleporting directly into the College, they should receive you well.”

Ischarus and the rest of the party nodded at Brandt’s suggestion.  “And you will bring us back?”

Brandt nodded.  “Well, I could give you the rings, again.  That way you could bring yourself back when you want.”

Ischarus nearly agreed before Charis cut off his speech.  “Actually, sir, I’d personally feel more comfortable if you teleported us and simply gave us a means to communicate with you.  If we run into more trouble than Allyssa in Eberdeen, I’d like to know that you can be reached.  I’d hate to think that we overlooked something and might be facing a squadron of Yrraxeans gathered in Eberdeen.  This is especially true if they are upset that their planned assassinations haven’t taken place as planned.”

Brandt nodded.  “Sounds reasonable enough to me.  I can give Semeion a scroll that when the magic is called upon it will alert me that you are ready.  You’ll be able to send a simple enough message through to me.  I’ll come to you and teleport you all back with me.”

Ischarus gave a pleasant look to Charis before returning his focus upon Brandt.  “Fair enough.  It makes sense to have a means of communication anyway.  Shall we get going, then?”

Brandt nodded.  “I’ll need a little time to prepare the spells required, but I should have you safely to Eberdeen in less than a half hour.”

Semeion looked to the follower of Reah.  “I can help you, and take some of the burden of the magic off of your shoulders.  We’ll be able to leave more quickly, then.”

Brandt nodded, accepting Semeion’s offer to help.  In fifteen minutes, largely with help from Semeion, Ischarus, and Ophee, the foursome was headed to Eberdeen.  Ophee decided that she should stay behind in Fingerdale rather than get mixed up in Eberdeen.  If things went well, Brandt would be going to Eberdeen and transporting five people back to Fingerdale with himself.  Transporting a total of six people would tax his power enough; there was little reason to make Brandt have to teleport another person.

When the party arrived in Eberdeen, they saw that Brandt had teleported them just outside of the Wizard’s College.  Semeion and Charis entered the bottom level of the Wizard’s College and asked to speak with security.  To their surprise, security was already on their way to intercept the party.  The college had registered the teleport and were dispatched to intercept the party.

Fortunately, the Wizard’s College security was put on ease with respect to the party.  When they discovered that Semeion and his friends had little interest of forcing their way deeper into the college they were willing to talk.  Once they discovered that it was the same people who had an agreement with security regarding the hunt for their own renegade wizard’s forces, they were even willing to cooperate.  Unfortunately, Allyssa had not tried to gain access to the Wizard’s College.  Semeion and his friends learned nothing from the Wizard’s College security.

They were able to find out from the security forces that King Rupert was scheduled to do a noon conversation with the general population in the public gardens.  They were also able to learn that nothing had happened to the king so far in the day.  They knew that the gardens wouldn’t be difficult to find and they left the Wizard’s College behind them in search of the gardens.

The party arrived at the gardens as a few workmen were still setting up the stage in the middle of the amphitheater that had been carved out of the ground.  A fair crowd had already gathered in anticipation of the king’s public address.  Ischarus pointed to the crowd and shook his head from side to side.

Semeion spoke in response to Ischarus’ gesture.  “If she’s in there, we’ll find her.  Don’t worry.”

Rhema knew her husband’s gesture better than Semeion.  “No, Semeion.  She won’t be in there.  Look at the people closely.  What kind of people are they?”

Charis spoke before Semeion could respond.  “Merchants and nobles, by the look of them.  Not the poor like we saw earlier at Lord Ironblood’s palace.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement with Charis.  “Yeah, exactly.  Not the kind of people that an armed assassin is going to blend in easily with.  The poor and the disheveled are one thing.  But if Allyssa gets too close and someone discovers her, they’ll be able to put two and two together and do something about it.  She won’t risk it.  I’d look for her around the perimeter, just like at the palace.”

Rhema had an immediate flashback to the morning’s earlier events.  A shudder ran up her spine and out the nerves of her arm.  “Yeah, but this time the target is real.  And Brandt isn’t going to be there to protect him.”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace.  “We’ll manage.  We’ll get her again.”

Ischarus turned in a slow circle around where the party stood.  “We should take a walk around.  If we split up, we might be less noticeable.”

Semeion slipped his hand inside Charis’ own hand.  “Good.  I can always use any excuse to walk around a park and enjoy the company of my wife.”

Ischarus took Semeion’s lead and wrapped his arm over Rhema’s shoulder.  “I like the way that you think.”

Rhema turned Ischarus away from the direction that Charis and Semeion faced.  “We’ll go east, you two go west.  We’ll see you on the other side.”

The pair split up, and it was about a third of the way around that Charis spotted Allyssa.  She was casually sitting in the lawn seeming to enjoy her lunch, and her tools of the trade were nowhere in sight.  Charis squeezed Semeion’s hand and pulled it lightly in the direction to look.  “Let’s just keep walking until we meet up with Ischarus and Rhema.  We’ll get to them before King Rupert takes the stage.”

The foursome met up on the opposite side of the amphitheater than where they started.  Ischarus shook his head, but it was Charis who spoke softly of success.  “She’s on the northwest lawn.  She must have stashed her bow and arrows nearby so that she could sit in the lawn without worrying about discovery.”

A voice spoke from the center of the stage.  “Ladies and gentlemen, King Rupert will be making his address momentarily.”

The foursome turned back to the stage.  Charis slipped a glance over to where Allyssa had been sitting.  She was on the move.  Charis tugged at Semeion’s sleeve to point out the movement.

Semeion kissed his wife on the forehead once he saw what Charis had noticed.  He spoke soft enough so that only his three companions could here him.  “Ladies and gentleman, take your places.  The show is about to get interesting.”  His three friends turned to him and noticed a broad grin on his face.  He was enjoying the thought running through his head.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Brandt nodded. “Of course. But even if the teleportation wasn’t to King Rupert and Eberdeen, he’s the one that we need to investigate first.”

Ischarus agreed. “Yeah. We need to make sure the king is safe before we check on all the other barons, lords, earls, and counts of Tongra. If the king is safe, other damage will be secondary and easier to overcome.”

Rhema lifted a finger to indicate that she was on the verge of thinking something through. “Wait a minute, here. The wizard’s chamber was a part of the Wizard’s College, and that was in Eberdeen. Since Allyssa was in the service of the wizard, is it possible that she went back to the college after her death and apparent resurrection?”

Semeion shook his head. “But, the Wizard’s College has special protection against teleportations. Remember, we couldn’t teleport directly into the Wizard’s College with Ophee. That’s why we had to meet the wizard outside one time and force our way in during the second.”

Ophee shook her head and smiled. “Actually, if the wizard was the originator of the spell, and by that I mean that if it was his magic, then it would circumvent the protective barrier. My former master used that trick on me many times. For that matter, if Allyssa had a ring created by my former master’s magic it would probably work.”

Ischarus pivoted so that he was facing Ophee. “Oh? Even with the wizard dead and his demonic possessor banished?”

Ophee shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on how long it took the Wizard’s College security organization to remove the wizard’s signature magic from the list of accepted mages. I’m just guessing here.”

Charis turned back to Semeion for answers regarding the realm of magic. “If she tried to use the teleportation magic and it was refused, would it work to ant extent?”

Semeion shrugged his shoulders and looked to Brandt. “It wouldn’t let her through, that’s for certain.”

Brandt picked up the explanation where Semeion had left it off. “There are a number of possibilities, depending on how the Wizard’s College has their anti-teleportation magic designed. If Allyssa did try to teleport into the Wizard’s College she could be delayed in a sort of stasis until released. Of course, that would give the Wizard’s College time to prepare for her arrival. This would be the most involved solution, and the solution that I would least expect. The maintenance for such a system would be incredibly involved. Every attempt to teleport in would have to be handled - and likely in various locations, too.”

Brandt paused for a moment to breathe before continuing. “Their defense could outright reject the magic from occurring. But I doubt that this answer is likely as well. It wouldn’t allow the Wizard’s College security to have the ability to know who is trying to gain access to their location. My guess is that their protective magic is really just a form of diversion. Anyone or anything that is not approved that teleports into a protected area is automatically diverted to a special room. In that way, the security can be relatively contained and managed. If I were designing a protective barrier, I would choose the one that redirects incoming teleportations. That would allow for a combination of the least amount of variation but the most amount of information gained.”

Semeion turned back to Brandt and replied. “So, if Allyssa tried to teleport, then we may be able to contact the Wizard’s College and see if they intercepted her?”

Brandt grinned. “Better yet, how about I just teleport you to all to Eberdeen and you can question the Wizard’s College guard yourself? It may take time to communicate via magic, but good old fashioned knocking on their front door will always work. And, since you won’t be teleporting directly into the College, they should receive you well.”

Ischarus and the rest of the party nodded at Brandt’s suggestion. “And you will bring us back?”

Brandt nodded. “Well, I could give you the rings, again. That way you could bring yourself back when you want.”

Ischarus nearly agreed before Charis cut off his speech. “Actually, sir, I’d personally feel more comfortable if you teleported us and simply gave us a means to communicate with you. If we run into more trouble than Allyssa in Eberdeen, I’d like to know that you can be reached. I’d hate to think that we overlooked something and might be facing a squadron of Yrraxeans gathered in Eberdeen. This is especially true if they are upset that their planned assassinations haven’t taken place as planned.”

Brandt nodded. “Sounds reasonable enough to me. I can give Semeion a scroll that when the magic is called upon it will alert me that you are ready. You’ll be able to send a simple enough message through to me. I’ll come to you and teleport you all back with me.”

Ischarus gave a pleasant look to Charis before returning his focus upon Brandt. “Fair enough. It makes sense to have a means of communication anyway. Shall we get going, then?”

Brandt nodded. “I’ll need a little time to prepare the spells required, but I should have you safely to Eberdeen in less than a half hour.”

Semeion looked to the follower of Reah. “I can help you, and take some of the burden of the magic off of your shoulders. We’ll be able to leave more quickly, then.”

Brandt nodded, accepting Semeion’s offer to help. In fifteen minutes, largely with help from Semeion, Ischarus, and Ophee, the foursome was headed to Eberdeen. Ophee decided that she should stay behind in Fingerdale rather than get mixed up in Eberdeen. If things went well, Brandt would be going to Eberdeen and transporting five people back to Fingerdale with himself. Transporting a total of six people would tax his power enough; there was little reason to make Brandt have to teleport another person.

When the party arrived in Eberdeen, they saw that Brandt had teleported them just outside of the Wizard’s College. Semeion and Charis entered the bottom level of the Wizard’s College and asked to speak with security. To their surprise, security was already on their way to intercept the party. The college had registered the teleport and were dispatched to intercept the party.

Fortunately, the Wizard’s College security was put on ease with respect to the party. When they discovered that Semeion and his friends had little interest of forcing their way deeper into the college they were willing to talk. Once they discovered that it was the same people who had an agreement with security regarding the hunt for their own renegade wizard’s forces, they were even willing to cooperate. Unfortunately, Allyssa had not tried to gain access to the Wizard’s College. Semeion and his friends learned nothing from the Wizard’s College security.

They were able to find out from the security forces that King Rupert was scheduled to do a noon conversation with the general population in the public gardens. They were also able to learn that nothing had happened to the king so far in the day. They knew that the gardens wouldn’t be difficult to find and they left the Wizard’s College behind them in search of the gardens.

The party arrived at the gardens as a few workmen were still setting up the stage in the middle of the amphitheater that had been carved out of the ground. A fair crowd had already gathered in anticipation of the king’s public address. Ischarus pointed to the crowd and shook his head from side to side.

Semeion spoke in response to Ischarus’ gesture. “If she’s in there, we’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

Rhema knew her husband’s gesture better than Semeion. “No, Semeion. She won’t be in there. Look at the people closely. What kind of people are they?”

Charis spoke before Semeion could respond. “Merchants and nobles, by the look of them. Not the poor like we saw earlier at Lord Ironblood’s palace.”

Ischarus nodded in agreement with Charis. “Yeah, exactly. Not the kind of people that an armed assassin is going to blend in easily with. The poor and the disheveled are one thing. But if Allyssa gets too close and someone discovers her, they’ll be able to put two and two together and do something about it. She won’t risk it. I’d look for her around the perimeter, just like at the palace.”

Rhema had an immediate flashback to the morning’s earlier events. A shudder ran up her spine and out the nerves of her arm. “Yeah, but this time the target is real. And Brandt isn’t going to be there to protect him.”

Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace. “We’ll manage. We’ll get her again.”

Ischarus turned in a slow circle around where the party stood. “We should take a walk around. If we split up, we might be less noticeable.”

Semeion slipped his hand inside Charis’ own hand. “Good. I can always use any excuse to walk around a park and enjoy the company of my wife.”

Ischarus took Semeion’s lead and wrapped his arm over Rhema’s shoulder. “I like the way that you think.”

Rhema turned Ischarus away from the direction that Charis and Semeion faced. “We’ll go east, you two go west. We’ll see you on the other side.”

The pair split up, and it was about a third of the way around that Charis spotted Allyssa. She was casually sitting in the lawn seeming to enjoy her lunch, and her tools of the trade were nowhere in sight. Charis squeezed Semeion’s hand and pulled it lightly in the direction to look. “Let’s just keep walking until we meet up with Ischarus and Rhema. We’ll get to them before King Rupert takes the stage.”

The foursome met up on the opposite side of the amphitheater than where they started. Ischarus shook his head, but it was Charis who spoke softly of success. “She’s on the northwest lawn. She must have stashed her bow and arrows nearby so that she could sit in the lawn without worrying about discovery.”

A voice spoke from the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, King Rupert will be making his address momentarily.”

The foursome turned back to the stage. Charis slipped a glance over to where Allyssa had been sitting. She was on the move. Charis tugged at Semeion’s sleeve to point out the movement.

Semeion kissed his wife on the forehead once he saw what Charis had noticed. He spoke soft enough so that only his three companions could here him. “Ladies and gentleman, take your places. The show is about to get interesting.” His three friends turned to him and noticed a broad grin on his face. He was enjoying the thought running through his head.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 9, 2007)

Charis grinned at Semeion’s smile.  “You have something planned.”

Semeion nodded, and his eyes told Charis that he was still working through the details.  “Yeah, and I think that it will be pretty easy to pull off considering that we have the advantage.  We know her game and how she is going to attack.  To our knowledge, she doesn’t even know that we are here.”

Ischarus turned back to the stage in the center of the amphitheater.  The man who had just done the announcement was stepping off the marble floor.  King Rupert would take the stage soon.  “So, how do you envision the next three minutes passing by?”

Semeion turned back to Ischarus.  “Leave the protection of the king up to me.  I can ensure his safety, and I planned my magic earlier for just this moment.  Charis, you’ll need to use your powers to keep Allyssa busy until you and Ischarus can close on her and take her down.  Rhema, anything you can do to convince Allyssa’s mind that either she is defeated or what she is seeing is more powerful than it actually is would be appreciated.”

Ischarus added further wisdom to Semeion’s plan.  “And do it from a distance, Rhema.  Between Charis and me, we can get up close and physical.  There is no need for you to risk getting any closer to an assassin than you need to perform your mind control.”

Rhema glared at Ischarus at first.  She felt like he was treating her as a child.  As she looked to him, the image of an arrow sinking deep through the scar on his neck flooded her mind.  Allyssa was dangerous, even from range.  She decided that Ischarus was not treating her like a child after all.  He knew the level of her danger.  If Allyssa could almost kill him with one shot, Rhema knew that she didn’t stand a chance.  “I understand.  You can trust me in that so long as you and Charis aren’t in danger of dying that I’ll stay back.”

Charis noticed the king making his way to the center of the stage.  A quick glance towards Allyssa’s direction showed that she had largely gone into hiding up a tree.  Her bow was drawn, but the arrow wasn’t nocked.  “One more thing.  Watch out for Yrraxeans, Rhema.  With Semeion concentrating on the protection of the king and Ischarus and me focusing on Allyssa, you’ll need to be the eyes in the back of our heads.  There might not be anyone else here, but you never know.  They’ve had enough time to realize the other assassinations didn’t happen, either.”

Rhema nodded, and she knew Charis was right.  This might not turn out to be a four on one battle.  This might turn out to be a large group of evil Yrraxean cultists against the four of them.  And there would be no telling how the king’s guard would react to Semeion’s magic, either.

The king stopped in the center of the marble and cleared his throat.  The corners of Semeion’s mouth lifted in pleasure.  “Ehoim Egro nuan Fashiir.”  Once his magic began to appear around the king, he turned to his friends.  “Go, now.  Get her.”

Allyssa didn’t hear Semeion’s magical command.  All she saw was a mild mist collecting around the king’s feet.  The appearance of the mist caused her to pause for a second as she drew back her arrow.  “Interesting.  Nobody can see me, though.  It is irrelevant.”  She drew the arrow, but by the time she was able to take her final aim, the king was completely covered by a thick fog.

She released her arrow as several of the king’s guards came to protect the king in the midst of the mist.  The arrow shot straight into the cloud and did not come out the other side.  Allyssa watched as King Rupert stumbled backwards out of the cloud.  Her poisoned arrow was stuck deep in his chest.  He clutched the arrow and shrieked out loud before collapsing backwards upon the marble stone.  He was dead.

Semeion also saw the arrow enter the cloud.  His mind sprang into action and the magical plan that he had devised easily came to the forefront of his thoughts.  “Allay Egro.”  Once he was sure that the magic had found its mark, he spoke quietly.  “Do no leave the cloud.  I am a mage named Semeion, and your protection depends upon you staying in the cloud.  You will not be harmed, and you must convince your guards to stay in the cloud with you.”

He knew that he couldn’t receive a reply from the king, so he assumed that the king would obey his instructions.  His magical words came once again.  “Ythan Shintar.”  A smile appeared on his face as he directed the illusion that Allyssa had thought was real.  The illusion was that of the king backing out of the cloud and into his dying throes.  He hoped that if Allyssa could be convinced that the king was dead that she would forget about him and allow herself to be completely absorbed by the challenge of Ischarus and Charis.  His only hope was that his illusion wouldn’t fool Charis, Ischarus, or Rhema into thinking the king was actually dead.

Charis saw the arrow leave Allyssa’s bow as she charged across the top of the ground above the amphitheater.  Once more she called the servants of Bemme to her aid.  “Daancrah Shintar Teos!”  She called out the magical words so loudly that a few nearby to her turned and looked in her direction.  A giant bee popped into existence about halfway between herself and the tree that held Allyssa.  She called out to the flying holy avenger.  “Arash, keep the one in the tree busy!”

The ring of Ischarus’ sword caught Allyssa’s attention as he and Charis charged towards the tree.  She focused on the pair, but caught sight of the angry holy bee zipping its way through the air towards her.  She deftly pulled out another arrow and let it fly from the midst of the tree.  Had the arrow struck its mark, it would have been a brilliant strategy.  As it were, the arrow split through the air and the bee pirouetted in midair to allow the arrow to pass by it unharmed.

Allyssa watched as the arrow shot past the bee and lodged itself in the arm of an innocent onlooker.  “Too bad I didn’t have time to taint that one with poison.”  Allyssa looked to the ground and knew that a straight fall could result in a broken leg.  Instead, she let go of the trunk of the tree with her arms and used the arches of her shoes to grip the bark of the tree on her way down.  Fortunately, she was in one of the lowest limbs and didn’t need to worry about lower branches.  She landed on the ground and stood up as quickly as she could.

Rhema focused on Allyssa’s mind and decided to give her friends a boost.  She gave Allyssa another false image to see while her two friends charged towards the assassin.  She smiled as Allyssa’s body language told her that the assassin believed the image.

Allyssa saw Charis trip and stumble on a root that broke the surface of the ground.  As she stumbled, her arm flailed around and caught Ischarus’ legs and forced him to the ground.  The assassin smiled as she now thought she had enough time to focus on the giant bee buzzing towards her.  She nocked another arrow and drew her bow back.  The arrow shot through the air and glanced off of the tough hide of the bee.

Charis and Ischarus couldn’t understand why Allyssa had seemingly ignored their approach and instead focused on the bee.  They both slowed in their approach in order to focus on offense and defense against the assassin.  They each swung with their respective weapons but missed their mark.  

The bee dove in to strike at Allyssa, but she used the end of her bow to poke the angry flying insect away.  The assassin had been surprised to see the attacks come from people that she had assumed would still be picking themselves up from the ground, but their ill timed strikes allowed her a moment to recover.  She simply dropped her bow to the ground and drew a pair of short swords.  Green oil collected along the serrated edge of the blade in her left hand.

Allyssa used both swords in a strike against Ischarus.  However, Ischarus was able to fend of both attacks with a quick maneuver of the shield strapped to his left hand.  None of the deadly green poison found its way on to Ischarus’ skin.

Ischarus pivoted his sword quickly from a defensive posture to an offensive one.  “Thin Zecka Egro.”  The familiar spell he used as a platform for assault came to his lips with ease.  Magical sparks leapt down his arm and surrounded his blade.  His sword was poised to release a deadly electrical force upon impact.

Ischarus spoke as he swung.  “Surrender now and I’ll guarantee that you do not die.”  His sword floated through the air with a deadly precision.  A split second before the blade hit home the stored electrical energy jumped from his blade across the minute gap and into Allyssa’s body.  The steel followed the strike quickly, and Allyssa felt the burn of the electricity meet the tearing pain of Ischarus’ sharp blade.

Charis swung again, but her attack missed its mark once more.  Her summons, Arash, found better success.  The giant holy bee was able to latch onto Allyssa’s arm and drive its stinger home.  Allyssa had now managed to have been assaulted from both sides and both arms were in burning agony.

Allyssa looked once more towards the center of the amphitheater.  She saw the illusion that Semeion had presented.  The magical mystical cloud had been offered up, but to her perception of the events the cloud had been ineffective.  The king lay dead and her arrow had found its home in spite of the magical mist.  As she took in the sight, a smile came across her face.

The smile caused Ischarus and Charis to pause.  It was an unusual smile that clearly had a dark meaning behind it.  “Death is no fear of mine.  I have accomplished my mission where others have failed.  The Queen of Avarice will welcome me into her midst!  I will rule over those who have failed her this day!”

Allyssa dropped the blade in her right hand and turned the poisoned sword around in her left hand so that the point extended downward from the pinky finger side of her grip instead of upward from her thumb side.  Before Ischarus or Charis could react, Allyssa gripped the pommel of the sword in both hands and drove the poisoned blade into her own chest.  The blade sunk deep into her heart, puncturing it badly before also puncturing her left lung.  A smile of relief crossed her lips as she spoke for the last time.  “You will not have the victory over me that you hoped.  I have succeeded and will be welcomed by my queen.  You cannot keep me from her.”

Charis turned in horror to Ischarus as Allyssa died between them.  Ischarus held out a hand, stopping Charis from healing her.  “She chose this path of death for herself, Charis.  What would healing her now accomplish?”

Charis didn’t listen to Ischarus’ gesture.  She knelt beside Allyssa and spoke the words of healing that had always dwelled inside of her.  “Bondras-tol Egro.”  The yellow healing magic collected on her fingertips, causing them to glow.  As she extending them over Allyssa’s chest and touched her skin just above the entry wound for the blade, the yellow healing magic left her fingers and passed into Allyssa’s body.

Allyssa’s body refused to be healed, however.  Charis had never had her magic return to her unused until now.  The yellow glow lifted out of Allyssa’s chest and returned to Charis’ fingers.  “She’s already dead?”

Rhema had approached, and she was followed by a growing crowd of interested bystanders.  She stood behind Charis and rested a hand on her shoulder.  “You can’t heal everyone, Charis.  Allyssa took her own life and wanted to meet her queen.  In spirit, she was already dead when she found herself trapped and surrounded.  When she missed with her first assault and Ischarus retaliated with a decisive blow, she must have decided that she didn’t want to risk capture and imprisonment.  She wanted to be with her queen.”

Semeion also spoke.  He had gathered with the crowd and had brought a few of the king’s royal guard with him.  “Too bad she was wrong.  The king’s just fine.  She didn’t accomplish any part of her objective.  Lord Ironblood and King Rupert live unscathed.  I do not think that her queen will be as pleased to see her as she thinks.”

Several guards pushed forward through the crowd and took their place over the body.  The one near Allyssa’s head spoke with a stern voice.  “Make way, people.  The king’s guard will begin an investigation and anyone interfering in that investigation will open themselves up to further inquiry.  If you want to observe, I’d recommend that all of you take about twenty steps back and make a path between here and the amphitheater.  Anyone not following this order will be arrested and questioned regarding their role in the assassination attempt.”

The crowd immediately moved, except for Semeion, Charis, Ischarus, and Rhema.  Ischarus looked the guard directly in the eye and spoke quietly.  He hoped his words would go unheard by the crowd.  “Sir, we intercepted her because we were on her trail.  We were only aware of the realistic severity of this attempt moments before the king took the stage, which is why your men could not be informed.  But we are investigating the cult from which she comes.  Might we have a moment to search her body before she is taken away?  I promise to share anything we find with your guard, of course.”

The guard looked at the crowd.  They were largely obeying and posing no threat.  “Well, you did save the king’s life.  You may proceed, but I want to see all that you find.”

Ischarus nodded and knelt down to the ground.  He reached through several of her pockets and found only a single scrap of paper.  As he unfolded the paper he read the message aloud.  “Allyssa, meet us in Shiftedburg after the assassinations.  There is much we must discuss.  Pahk.”

Rhema’s face drew pale.  “Shiftedburg!  Why, that’s a suburb of Fingerdale on the complete opposite side of the city as Huetown!”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Charis grinned at Semeion’s smile. “You have something planned.”

Semeion nodded, and his eyes told Charis that he was still working through the details. “Yeah, and I think that it will be pretty easy to pull off considering that we have the advantage. We know her game and how she is going to attack. To our knowledge, she doesn’t even know that we are here.”

Ischarus turned back to the stage in the center of the amphitheater. The man who had just done the announcement was stepping off the marble floor. King Rupert would take the stage soon. “So, how do you envision the next three minutes passing by?”

Semeion turned back to Ischarus. “Leave the protection of the king up to me. I can ensure his safety, and I planned my magic earlier for just this moment. Charis, you’ll need to use your powers to keep Allyssa busy until you and Ischarus can close on her and take her down. Rhema, anything you can do to convince Allyssa’s mind that either she is defeated or what she is seeing is more powerful than it actually is would be appreciated.”

Ischarus added further wisdom to Semeion’s plan. “And do it from a distance, Rhema. Between Charis and me, we can get up close and physical. There is no need for you to risk getting any closer to an assassin than you need to perform your mind control.”

Rhema glared at Ischarus at first. She felt like he was treating her as a child. As she looked to him, the image of an arrow sinking deep through the scar on his neck flooded her mind. Allyssa was dangerous, even from range. She decided that Ischarus was not treating her like a child after all. He knew the level of her danger. If Allyssa could almost kill him with one shot, Rhema knew that she didn’t stand a chance. “I understand. You can trust me in that so long as you and Charis aren’t in danger of dying that I’ll stay back.”

Charis noticed the king making his way to the center of the stage. A quick glance towards Allyssa’s direction showed that she had largely gone into hiding up a tree. Her bow was drawn, but the arrow wasn’t nocked. “One more thing. Watch out for Yrraxeans, Rhema. With Semeion concentrating on the protection of the king and Ischarus and me focusing on Allyssa, you’ll need to be the eyes in the back of our heads. There might not be anyone else here, but you never know. They’ve had enough time to realize the other assassinations didn’t happen, either.”

Rhema nodded, and she knew Charis was right. This might not turn out to be a four on one battle. This might turn out to be a large group of evil Yrraxean cultists against the four of them. And there would be no telling how the king’s guard would react to Semeion’s magic, either.

The king stopped in the center of the marble and cleared his throat. The corners of Semeion’s mouth lifted in pleasure. “Ehoim Egro nuan Fashiir.” Once his magic began to appear around the king, he turned to his friends. “Go, now. Get her.”

Allyssa didn’t hear Semeion’s magical command. All she saw was a mild mist collecting around the king’s feet. The appearance of the mist caused her to pause for a second as she drew back her arrow. “Interesting. Nobody can see me, though. It is irrelevant.” She drew the arrow, but by the time she was able to take her final aim, the king was completely covered by a thick fog.

She released her arrow as several of the king’s guards came to protect the king in the midst of the mist. The arrow shot straight into the cloud and did not come out the other side. Allyssa watched as King Rupert stumbled backwards out of the cloud. Her poisoned arrow was stuck deep in his chest. He clutched the arrow and shrieked out loud before collapsing backwards upon the marble stone. He was dead.

Semeion also saw the arrow enter the cloud. His mind sprang into action and the magical plan that he had devised easily came to the forefront of his thoughts. “Allay Egro.” Once he was sure that the magic had found its mark, he spoke quietly. “Do no leave the cloud. I am a mage named Semeion, and your protection depends upon you staying in the cloud. You will not be harmed, and you must convince your guards to stay in the cloud with you.”

He knew that he couldn’t receive a reply from the king, so he assumed that the king would obey his instructions. His magical words came once again. “Ythan Shintar.” A smile appeared on his face as he directed the illusion that Allyssa had thought was real. The illusion was that of the king backing out of the cloud and into his dying throes. He hoped that if Allyssa could be convinced that the king was dead that she would forget about him and allow herself to be completely absorbed by the challenge of Ischarus and Charis. His only hope was that his illusion wouldn’t fool Charis, Ischarus, or Rhema into thinking the king was actually dead.

Charis saw the arrow leave Allyssa’s bow as she charged across the top of the ground above the amphitheater. Once more she called the servants of Bemme to her aid. “Daancrah Shintar Teos!” She called out the magical words so loudly that a few nearby to her turned and looked in her direction. A giant bee popped into existence about halfway between herself and the tree that held Allyssa. She called out to the flying holy avenger. “Arash, keep the one in the tree busy!”

The ring of Ischarus’ sword caught Allyssa’s attention as he and Charis charged towards the tree. She focused on the pair, but caught sight of the angry holy bee zipping its way through the air towards her. She deftly pulled out another arrow and let it fly from the midst of the tree. Had the arrow struck its mark, it would have been a brilliant strategy. As it were, the arrow split through the air and the bee pirouetted in midair to allow the arrow to pass by it unharmed.

Allyssa watched as the arrow shot past the bee and lodged itself in the arm of an innocent onlooker. “Too bad I didn’t have time to taint that one with poison.” Allyssa looked to the ground and knew that a straight fall could result in a broken leg. Instead, she let go of the trunk of the tree with her arms and used the arches of her shoes to grip the bark of the tree on her way down. Fortunately, she was in one of the lowest limbs and didn’t need to worry about lower branches. She landed on the ground and stood up as quickly as she could.

Rhema focused on Allyssa’s mind and decided to give her friends a boost. She gave Allyssa another false image to see while her two friends charged towards the assassin. She smiled as Allyssa’s body language told her that the assassin believed the image.

Allyssa saw Charis trip and stumble on a root that broke the surface of the ground. As she stumbled, her arm flailed around and caught Ischarus’ legs and forced him to the ground. The assassin smiled as she now thought she had enough time to focus on the giant bee buzzing towards her. She nocked another arrow and drew her bow back. The arrow shot through the air and glanced off of the tough hide of the bee.

Charis and Ischarus couldn’t understand why Allyssa had seemingly ignored their approach and instead focused on the bee. They both slowed in their approach in order to focus on offense and defense against the assassin. They each swung with their respective weapons but missed their mark. 

The bee dove in to strike at Allyssa, but she used the end of her bow to poke the angry flying insect away. The assassin had been surprised to see the attacks come from people that she had assumed would still be picking themselves up from the ground, but their ill timed strikes allowed her a moment to recover. She simply dropped her bow to the ground and drew a pair of short swords. Green oil collected along the serrated edge of the blade in her left hand.

Allyssa used both swords in a strike against Ischarus. However, Ischarus was able to fend of both attacks with a quick maneuver of the shield strapped to his left hand. None of the deadly green poison found its way on to Ischarus’ skin.

Ischarus pivoted his sword quickly from a defensive posture to an offensive one. “Thin Zecka Egro.” The familiar spell he used as a platform for assault came to his lips with ease. Magical sparks leapt down his arm and surrounded his blade. His sword was poised to release a deadly electrical force upon impact.

Ischarus spoke as he swung. “Surrender now and I’ll guarantee that you do not die.” His sword floated through the air with a deadly precision. A split second before the blade hit home the stored electrical energy jumped from his blade across the minute gap and into Allyssa’s body. The steel followed the strike quickly, and Allyssa felt the burn of the electricity meet the tearing pain of Ischarus’ sharp blade.

Charis swung again, but her attack missed its mark once more. Her summons, Arash, found better success. The giant holy bee was able to latch onto Allyssa’s arm and drive its stinger home. Allyssa had now managed to have been assaulted from both sides and both arms were in burning agony.

Allyssa looked once more towards the center of the amphitheater. She saw the illusion that Semeion had presented. The magical mystical cloud had been offered up, but to her perception of the events the cloud had been ineffective. The king lay dead and her arrow had found its home in spite of the magical mist. As she took in the sight, a smile came across her face.

The smile caused Ischarus and Charis to pause. It was an unusual smile that clearly had a dark meaning behind it. “Death is no fear of mine. I have accomplished my mission where others have failed. The Queen of Avarice will welcome me into her midst! I will rule over those who have failed her this day!”

Allyssa dropped the blade in her right hand and turned the poisoned sword around in her left hand so that the point extended downward from the pinky finger side of her grip instead of upward from her thumb side. Before Ischarus or Charis could react, Allyssa gripped the pommel of the sword in both hands and drove the poisoned blade into her own chest. The blade sunk deep into her heart, puncturing it badly before also puncturing her left lung. A smile of relief crossed her lips as she spoke for the last time. “You will not have the victory over me that you hoped. I have succeeded and will be welcomed by my queen. You cannot keep me from her.”

Charis turned in horror to Ischarus as Allyssa died between them. Ischarus held out a hand, stopping Charis from healing her. “She chose this path of death for herself, Charis. What would healing her now accomplish?”

Charis didn’t listen to Ischarus’ gesture. She knelt beside Allyssa and spoke the words of healing that had always dwelled inside of her. “Bondras-tol Egro.” The yellow healing magic collected on her fingertips, causing them to glow. As she extending them over Allyssa’s chest and touched her skin just above the entry wound for the blade, the yellow healing magic left her fingers and passed into Allyssa’s body.

Allyssa’s body refused to be healed, however. Charis had never had her magic return to her unused until now. The yellow glow lifted out of Allyssa’s chest and returned to Charis’ fingers. “She’s already dead?”

Rhema had approached, and she was followed by a growing crowd of interested bystanders. She stood behind Charis and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t heal everyone, Charis. Allyssa took her own life and wanted to meet her queen. In spirit, she was already dead when she found herself trapped and surrounded. When she missed with her first assault and Ischarus retaliated with a decisive blow, she must have decided that she didn’t want to risk capture and imprisonment. She wanted to be with her queen.”

Semeion also spoke. He had gathered with the crowd and had brought a few of the king’s royal guard with him. “Too bad she was wrong. The king’s just fine. She didn’t accomplish any part of her objective. Lord Ironblood and King Rupert live unscathed. I do not think that her queen will be as pleased to see her as she thinks.”

Several guards pushed forward through the crowd and took their place over the body. The one near Allyssa’s head spoke with a stern voice. “Make way, people. The king’s guard will begin an investigation and anyone interfering in that investigation will open themselves up to further inquiry. If you want to observe, I’d recommend that all of you take about twenty steps back and make a path between here and the amphitheater. Anyone not following this order will be arrested and questioned regarding their role in the assassination attempt.”

The crowd immediately moved, except for Semeion, Charis, Ischarus, and Rhema. Ischarus looked the guard directly in the eye and spoke quietly. He hoped his words would go unheard by the crowd. “Sir, we intercepted her because we were on her trail. We were only aware of the realistic severity of this attempt moments before the king took the stage, which is why your men could not be informed. But we are investigating the cult from which she comes. Might we have a moment to search her body before she is taken away? I promise to share anything we find with your guard, of course.”

The guard looked at the crowd. They were largely obeying and posing no threat. “Well, you did save the king’s life. You may proceed, but I want to see all that you find.”

Ischarus nodded and knelt down to the ground. He reached through several of her pockets and found only a single scrap of paper. As he unfolded the paper he read the message aloud. “Allyssa, meet us in Shiftedburg after the assassinations. There is much we must discuss. Pahk.”

Rhema’s face drew pale. “Shiftedburg! Why, that’s a suburb of Fingerdale on the complete opposite side of the city as Huetown!”

[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 11, 2007)

The party strode into Shiftedburg an hour before the sun was to make its disappearance from the sky.  It had been a long day since Allyssa’s suicide.  There had been many stages in the attempt to track down Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg.

They had left Allyssa’s dead body with the king’s guard and had given them specific instructions regarding the care of the body.  The party warned them that the last time Allyssa had died she had reappeared alive in Eberdeen.  Once they were sure that the king’s guard would take her dead body a seriously as necessary, they used the spell that Brandt had given Semeion to indicate that they were ready to return.

Brandt was not happy to hear of Allyssa’s death, but he did not hold the event against anyone in the party.  She was a formidable opponent, and the use of the poison on herself indicated that she was serious about the choice of death over capture.  Brandt consoled Charis over the fact that her healing magic could not penetrate through Allyssa’s death, although he admitted that even his healing magic can’t penetrate the barrier of death.

The party spent the rest of the time in the afternoon with Master Searthu trying to discern Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg.  In spite of Master Searthu’s ability to magically observe different locations across the Confederacy of Tongra, they were unable to pinpoint Pahk’s hiding place.  Master Searthu concluded that Pahk’s location must be protected by magical viewing.  He also hypothesized that if this was the case, Pahk may be concealing more than himself.  Yrraxea herself may be lending Pahk the power to conceal even more cultists.

As the party passed into the largest of Fingerdale’s suburbs, they knew that their task was going to be difficult.  While Shiftedburg was only slightly more than a sixth of Fingerdale’s population, it was still well over a thousand occupants.  It had outgrown the farming mentality of the smaller suburbs and had already begun to develop its own cultural centers apart from Fingerdale.  Shiftedburg had several taverns, inns, and diners.  They also had their own town square, which was really more like that of a community park.

The party decided to head into a few of the taverns and began to subtly ask around if anyone had noticed Pahk’s arrival in the past few days.  They struck out after spending a half hour in the first tavern, but managed to find a lead in the second tavern.  The lead hadn’t gone well, and that was what had alerted the party to the possible connection.  The bartender reacted suspiciously to the question, so they decided to pay special attention to him.  It wasn’t long before they noticed the bartender excusing himself for a few minutes and slipping out the back door.

The party waited until the barkeeper had exited.  They left some money on the table before heading to the front door.  They quickly exited the building and split up.  Charis and Semeion took the right side of the building while Rhema and Ischarus took the left side of the building.  Neither group found the barkeep until they emerged into the alley that ran behind the tavern.  The barkeep was hurrying down the alley to the left and had already passed the backs of several buildings.

They followed as quickly as they could, but they also didn’t want to get too close and alert the barkeep.  Shortly after they began following him down the alley he turned to the left.  This allowed the party the opportunity to move quickly in their pursuit.  Ischarus approached the corner where the barkeep turned and peeked around the corner.  The barkeeper was gone.

The party fled down the space between the buildings and back out onto the main road that passed in front of the tavern.  Just as they emerged onto the main road, they saw the barkeep turn a corner and head between a pair of buildings on the opposite side of the road.  They moved quickly to pick up his trail and just as they reached the corners of the buildings they saw him turn down another alleyway.

This process of moving down alleys and behind buildings continued for nearly a minute, and more than once the barkeeper passed across the main street and used the alleys to loop back on his path.  He was trying to move in a manner to either lose anyone following him or to come upon them from behind as he looped back around on his trail.

Eventually the barkeeper slipped into the back door of a warehouse.  Ischarus smiled as he made note of the proper door.  “Now we’ve got him.  Just watch out for traps.”

As they approached the door, Rhema held out a hand to stop Ischarus from opening it.  “Let me scan the minds of the people inside, assuming that they are in range.  I can get a hint of their state of mind.”

The other three relaxed for a moment as Rhema focused her thoughts inside.  She smiled and reported her findings.  “There are too many minds in there to focus intently on one, but I can say that none of them are concerned about us coming through the door right now.  They seem to be frantically worried about their space.”

Ischarus smiled.  “Then we’ll go in.  The door can’t be trapped, we just saw the barkeeper go through it.”

Charis lifted the handle of her pick off of her belt and moved to the door.  “Use it if you got it!”  Her left hand touched the center of her forehead and she spoke a few magical words.  “Meion Shintar.”  The muscles in her arms and legs swelled, giving her greater strength.  With a swift kick of her leg she split the door away from the doorjamb that held it in place.  A few splinters flew into the warehouse, but largely the door simply swung in on its hinges.

Ischarus hefted his sword out of its scabbard and charged into the room behind Charis.  What he saw before him was a small group of Yrraxean cultists.  Most of them looked to be simple folk who had been duped by the powerful Pahk, who stood in the center of the group.  Ischarus extended his hand in the direction of Pahk and called upon his magic.  “Ythan Egro poisse Umaam.” 

A dazzling display of colors burst forth from his extended palm and shot towards a large section of the cultist.  The green, red, yellow, blue, and purple colors swirled among themselves as they passed over the people in their path like waves crashing against a rocky beach.  Three of the six Yrraxeans trapped in the colors immediately crumpled to the ground.

Ischarus called out to Charis.  “The ones on the ground will be unconscious for some time.  Start with Pahk!”

Several of the Yrraxeans who were not caught in Ischarus’ spell dropped whatever was in their hands and began to flee for the front door to the party’s right.  Pahk stood strong and drew a dagger.  The other two Yrraxeans who were caught in Ischarus’ spell but not affected turned to Pahk for guidance.  The lead Yrraxean smiled and commanded them.  “Fight or die!  Running from followers of Reah will earn you no sympathy from your queen!”

Charis moved to intercept Pahk, but not before the Yrraxean could manage to get off a spell.  “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath!”  He pointed directly at Charis as he released the magical energy.

Semeion knew that the spell was going to hurt.  His mind quickly deciphered the magical command and knew to expect a powerful ball of fire.  His knowledge gave him no ability to alter the spell, however.  The fire exploded upon Charis and quickly filled a quarter of the warehouse in addition to blasting out of the doorway and into the alleyway where Rhema and Semeion still stood.

Semeion and Rhema were blown back by the powerful explosion.  Rhema was lucky and several crates in the alleyway shielded her from the flames once the force of the explosion had blown her back.  Semeion was not so lucky and he quickly found himself wrapped in a cloud of fire.

Several of the Yrraxeans who had initially moved to the door to the party’s right were also caught in the explosion.  Many of them were blown off of their feet and badly burned as the fire spread across the warehouse floor.  Several stacks of boxes caught fire and threatened to come crashing down to the ground above the fallen Yrraxeans.

Charis was blown forward by the assault, but she managed to keep her feet.  The fire scorched her exposed skin and hair, but she continued to charge towards Pahk.  She met him and easily landed a serious blow across his face.  Blood streamed out of his mouth as he called the remaining Yrraxeans to his defense.

Rhema recovered from Pahk’s spell and charged into the warehouse.  She quickly scanned the battlefield and knew that she could influence some control.  Her mind focused on the battle between Pahk and Charis and a circular wall of ice sprang from the ground and encircled their battle.  The air outside the wall immediately lowered in temperature and frost collected in the sweaty hair of the Yrraxeans who had been standing close to Pahk.  The sweat on their skin began to freeze.  

Charis and Pahk were unaffected by the cold inside the ring of ice.  Rhema saw that her spell was affective and she called out Ischarus.  “I’ve sealed the two of them inside the ice!  You’ll need to take care of the rest of the cultists!”

The two Yrraxeans outside of the cold ring quickly moved away from the chilled air.  They drew their swords and attempted to attack Ischarus, but his skill with his own sword was measurably greater.  He easily deflected their attacks with his own sword.

Semeion collected himself and moved into the warehouse as Ischarus was attacked.  He turned and ran along the wall inside the warehouse until he was able to cast a spell against the Yrraxeans fighting against Ischarus without actually catching Ischarus in the line of the spell.  His mind focused on the swords that the Yrraxeans were using and he uttered his magical command.  “Thin Zhendahl quas Bukrol.”

The weapons that the Yrraxeans were using shattered, as did several of the empty wooden crates behind where the Yrraxeans were standing.  The exploding steel swords left minor wounds on the Yrraxeans and Ischarus, but the largest effect was the surprise impression that Semeion’s spell left on the Yrraxeans.  The young mage yelled to the Yrraxeans who had come to Pahk’s defense. “Some of your brethren have chosen to flee and confess that Reah has dominated over Yrraxea.  If you flee now, your lives will be spared!”

Ischarus simply grinned at the two Yrraxeans who were now weaponless.  He nodded, but made no aggressive move towards them.  They glanced back to Pahk, but he was busy inside the wall of ice and could offer them no direction.  They turned back to Ischarus and took advantage of Semeion’s offer.  They fled to the far entrance of the warehouse, avoiding as many of the smoking crates as possible.

Inside the ring of ice, Pahk turned to Charis and cast another spell.  “Thin Zhentahl nienne Kelath.”  A ring of fire sprang up around Pahk and encircled him.  As the fire circled around Pahk, it leapt out and burned Charis’ arm.  The pain was intense, but not significant.

Charis responded with a magical assault of her own.  “Thin Zhendahl gat Teos.” Her hand extended towards Pahk, but she was wary of getting too close.  She didn’t want to allow the fiery ring to have another chance to strike her.  A ray of blinding energy burst forth from her palm and struck Pahk in the chest.  Charis added insult to the injury.  “You will find that Bemme is more powerful than Yrraxea.”

Pahk spat blood and spittle upon the ground and spoke while he planned his next assault.  “You serve Bemme?  While you are obviously misguided, my quarrel is not with you.  Stand aside and I will let you live!”  Pahk swung his dagger half-heartedly at Charis.  Although his assault missed, the ring of fire circling him drew close enough to blast Charis with another strike.

Charis replied to Pahk’s religious assertion.  “While Bemme has no official quarrel against Yrraxea, you are self-serving.  Bemme’s love is charitable, and all those who seek to lift themselves above the community must be stopped.”

Pahk shrugged and smiled.  “So be it!  Thin Shintar tok Arash.”  Pahk used a spell that Charis had seen Ischarus use a time or two.  The knowledge did not help her avoid Pahk’s effect, however.  A green arrow coated with acid emerged from each of Pahk’s hands and shot forward to strike Charis.  Both arrows slammed into Charis’ chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

Charis had enough of trading magical blows.  It was clear that Pahk was much more of a capable spell caster than most of the Wizard’s College guards had assumed.  If she were going to defeat him, it would not be in a magical exchange.  She lifted her shield defensively and swung hard with her pick.  The pointed end struck hard and penetrated Pahk’s flimsy clothing.  A pool of blood quickly formed in the clothing around his shoulder.

Pahk fell to his knees and looked up to Charis in anger.  Magical words began to form on his lips as his shoulder oozed blood and plasma.  Charis turned the pick a quarter turn and swung hard in an upward blow.  The flat side of the pick caught Pahk under the chin and flipped him onto his back.  He lay motionless on the ground.

Rhema released the ring of ice as soon as she saw Pahk fall to the ground.  With her mind no longer providing the energy for the ice to exist, it dissipated quickly and the warehouse lost its cool spot.  She turned and walked towards Semeion, who was trying to extinguish the flames among the wooden storage crates caused by Pahk’s earlier spell.

Ischarus had let Semeion handle the flames while he stood guard over one of the Yrraxeans who had tried to flee but instead got caught in the blast from Pahk’s fiery explosion.  As the Yrraxean returned to consciousness, he was startled to see Ischarus standing over him.  He quickly looked around and realized that except for Pahk the rest of his cult had fled.  Pahk lay motionless on the ground, defeated.

Ischarus scowled and knelt down, holding his blade under the chin of the Yrraxean.  “I’m going to assume that you got involved in this cult as a mistake.  If that’s true, then your mistake can be forgiven.  And if you want forgiveness, you had better explain what was happening here.”

The Yrraxean continued to sweat, and drips of his sweat ran down his face and pooled on the flat of Ischarus’ blade.  “We were waiting for Allyssa.  Pahk said something about the plan failing miserably.  Allyssa was sent to Eberdeen.  She was to return here and we were going to move to a new country.”

Ischarus smiled.  “You speak vaguely, Yrraxean.  What do you know of Allyssa’s mission?”

The Yrraxean shook his head slowly from side to side.  “I know nothing, really.  Pahk and Allyssa told us that if we supported them we would find ourselves in a new status in a few days. They promised us power and prestige.”

Ischarus looked at the Yrraxean as though he were disappointed.  “Power and prestige?  Where would this come from?”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard.  “There are many who know that Lord Ironblood only thinks of himself.  We assumed that they were planning something to remove him from power.  But honestly, we were never told as much.  We were simply promised power and prestige for our assistance.”

Ischarus chuckled once more.  “Let’s just say that you guess is not far from home.  But, they planned it to be much bigger.  They planned to assassinate the king and all the leaders in Tongra.  And they almost succeeded.  You almost played a part in that plan.  You almost played a part in the assassination of all the leaders of Tongra.”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard, obviously disturbed by Ischarus’ revelation.  “But, I had no idea.  I swear!”

Charis called to Ischarus and interrupted his interrogation.  “I found a communiqué on Pahk.”

Rhema called from another area of the warehouse.  “Read it, Charis.”

Charis nodded and replied.  “Pahk.  The plan is in ruins.  No assassinations have occurred.  We are sailing for Fenneress, where we will return to Quehalost and wait for the Queen to summon our might again.  Wait for Allyssa to return and report on her assassination attempt.  If she failed, rendezvous with us in Fenneress.  If she succeeded, stay in Tongra and contact us.  We may still succeed at revolution.”

The Yrraxean underneath Ischarus’ sword called out.  “I knew nothing of it, I swear!”

Ischarus smiled.  “I pray that is true, for your sake.  It may mean the difference between jail and a stay at a temple for some education in the truth.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The party strode into Shiftedburg an hour before the sun was to make its disappearance from the sky. It had been a long day since Allyssa’s suicide. There had been many stages in the attempt to track down Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg.

They had left Allyssa’s dead body with the king’s guard and had given them specific instructions regarding the care of the body. The party warned them that the last time Allyssa had died she had reappeared alive in Eberdeen. Once they were sure that the king’s guard would take her dead body a seriously as necessary, they used the spell that Brandt had given Semeion to indicate that they were ready to return.

Brandt was not happy to hear of Allyssa’s death, but he did not hold the event against anyone in the party. She was a formidable opponent, and the use of the poison on herself indicated that she was serious about the choice of death over capture. Brandt consoled Charis over the fact that her healing magic could not penetrate through Allyssa’s death, although he admitted that even his healing magic can’t penetrate the barrier of death.

The party spent the rest of the time in the afternoon with Master Searthu trying to discern Pahk’s location in Shiftedburg. In spite of Master Searthu’s ability to magically observe different locations across the Confederacy of Tongra, they were unable to pinpoint Pahk’s hiding place. Master Searthu concluded that Pahk’s location must be protected by magical viewing. He also hypothesized that if this was the case, Pahk may be concealing more than himself. Yrraxea herself may be lending Pahk the power to conceal even more cultists.

As the party passed into the largest of Fingerdale’s suburbs, they knew that their task was going to be difficult. While Shiftedburg was only slightly more than a sixth of Fingerdale’s population, it was still well over a thousand occupants. It had outgrown the farming mentality of the smaller suburbs and had already begun to develop its own cultural centers apart from Fingerdale. Shiftedburg had several taverns, inns, and diners. They also had their own town square, which was really more like that of a community park.

The party decided to head into a few of the taverns and began to subtly ask around if anyone had noticed Pahk’s arrival in the past few days. They struck out after spending a half hour in the first tavern, but managed to find a lead in the second tavern. The lead hadn’t gone well, and that was what had alerted the party to the possible connection. The bartender reacted suspiciously to the question, so they decided to pay special attention to him. It wasn’t long before they noticed the bartender excusing himself for a few minutes and slipping out the back door.

The party waited until the barkeeper had exited. They left some money on the table before heading to the front door. They quickly exited the building and split up. Charis and Semeion took the right side of the building while Rhema and Ischarus took the left side of the building. Neither group found the barkeep until they emerged into the alley that ran behind the tavern. The barkeep was hurrying down the alley to the left and had already passed the backs of several buildings.

They followed as quickly as they could, but they also didn’t want to get too close and alert the barkeep. Shortly after they began following him down the alley he turned to the left. This allowed the party the opportunity to move quickly in their pursuit. Ischarus approached the corner where the barkeep turned and peeked around the corner. The barkeeper was gone.

The party fled down the space between the buildings and back out onto the main road that passed in front of the tavern. Just as they emerged onto the main road, they saw the barkeep turn a corner and head between a pair of buildings on the opposite side of the road. They moved quickly to pick up his trail and just as they reached the corners of the buildings they saw him turn down another alleyway.

This process of moving down alleys and behind buildings continued for nearly a minute, and more than once the barkeeper passed across the main street and used the alleys to loop back on his path. He was trying to move in a manner to either lose anyone following him or to come upon them from behind as he looped back around on his trail.

Eventually the barkeeper slipped into the back door of a warehouse. Ischarus smiled as he made note of the proper door. “Now we’ve got him. Just watch out for traps.”

As they approached the door, Rhema held out a hand to stop Ischarus from opening it. “Let me scan the minds of the people inside, assuming that they are in range. I can get a hint of their state of mind.”

The other three relaxed for a moment as Rhema focused her thoughts inside. She smiled and reported her findings. “There are too many minds in there to focus intently on one, but I can say that none of them are concerned about us coming through the door right now. They seem to be frantically worried about their space.”

Ischarus smiled. “Then we’ll go in. The door can’t be trapped, we just saw the barkeeper go through it.”

Charis lifted the handle of her pick off of her belt and moved to the door. “Use it if you got it!” Her left hand touched the center of her forehead and she spoke a few magical words. “Meion Shintar.” The muscles in her arms and legs swelled, giving her greater strength. With a swift kick of her leg she split the door away from the doorjamb that held it in place. A few splinters flew into the warehouse, but largely the door simply swung in on its hinges.

Ischarus hefted his sword out of its scabbard and charged into the room behind Charis. What he saw before him was a small group of Yrraxean cultists. Most of them looked to be simple folk who had been duped by the powerful Pahk, who stood in the center of the group. Ischarus extended his hand in the direction of Pahk and called upon his magic. “Ythan Egro poisse Umaam.” 

A dazzling display of colors burst forth from his extended palm and shot towards a large section of the cultist. The green, red, yellow, blue, and purple colors swirled among themselves as they passed over the people in their path like waves crashing against a rocky beach. Three of the six Yrraxeans trapped in the colors immediately crumpled to the ground.

Ischarus called out to Charis. “The ones on the ground will be unconscious for some time. Start with Pahk!”

Several of the Yrraxeans who were not caught in Ischarus’ spell dropped whatever was in their hands and began to flee for the front door to the party’s right. Pahk stood strong and drew a dagger. The other two Yrraxeans who were caught in Ischarus’ spell but not affected turned to Pahk for guidance. The lead Yrraxean smiled and commanded them. “Fight or die! Running from followers of Reah will earn you no sympathy from your queen!”

Charis moved to intercept Pahk, but not before the Yrraxean could manage to get off a spell. “Thin Zhendahl nuan Kelath!” He pointed directly at Charis as he released the magical energy.

Semeion knew that the spell was going to hurt. His mind quickly deciphered the magical command and knew to expect a powerful ball of fire. His knowledge gave him no ability to alter the spell, however. The fire exploded upon Charis and quickly filled a quarter of the warehouse in addition to blasting out of the doorway and into the alleyway where Rhema and Semeion still stood.

Semeion and Rhema were blown back by the powerful explosion. Rhema was lucky and several crates in the alleyway shielded her from the flames once the force of the explosion had blown her back. Semeion was not so lucky and he quickly found himself wrapped in a cloud of fire.

Several of the Yrraxeans who had initially moved to the door to the party’s right were also caught in the explosion. Many of them were blown off of their feet and badly burned as the fire spread across the warehouse floor. Several stacks of boxes caught fire and threatened to come crashing down to the ground above the fallen Yrraxeans.

Charis was blown forward by the assault, but she managed to keep her feet. The fire scorched her exposed skin and hair, but she continued to charge towards Pahk. She met him and easily landed a serious blow across his face. Blood streamed out of his mouth as he called the remaining Yrraxeans to his defense.

Rhema recovered from Pahk’s spell and charged into the warehouse. She quickly scanned the battlefield and knew that she could influence some control. Her mind focused on the battle between Pahk and Charis and a circular wall of ice sprang from the ground and encircled their battle. The air outside the wall immediately lowered in temperature and frost collected in the sweaty hair of the Yrraxeans who had been standing close to Pahk. The sweat on their skin began to freeze. 

Charis and Pahk were unaffected by the cold inside the ring of ice. Rhema saw that her spell was affective and she called out Ischarus. “I’ve sealed the two of them inside the ice! You’ll need to take care of the rest of the cultists!”

The two Yrraxeans outside of the cold ring quickly moved away from the chilled air. They drew their swords and attempted to attack Ischarus, but his skill with his own sword was measurably greater. He easily deflected their attacks with his own sword.

Semeion collected himself and moved into the warehouse as Ischarus was attacked. He turned and ran along the wall inside the warehouse until he was able to cast a spell against the Yrraxeans fighting against Ischarus without actually catching Ischarus in the line of the spell. His mind focused on the swords that the Yrraxeans were using and he uttered his magical command. “Thin Zhendahl quas Bukrol.”

The weapons that the Yrraxeans were using shattered, as did several of the empty wooden crates behind where the Yrraxeans were standing. The exploding steel swords left minor wounds on the Yrraxeans and Ischarus, but the largest effect was the surprise impression that Semeion’s spell left on the Yrraxeans. The young mage yelled to the Yrraxeans who had come to Pahk’s defense. “Some of your brethren have chosen to flee and confess that Reah has dominated over Yrraxea. If you flee now, your lives will be spared!”

Ischarus simply grinned at the two Yrraxeans who were now weaponless. He nodded, but made no aggressive move towards them. They glanced back to Pahk, but he was busy inside the wall of ice and could offer them no direction. They turned back to Ischarus and took advantage of Semeion’s offer. They fled to the far entrance of the warehouse, avoiding as many of the smoking crates as possible.

Inside the ring of ice, Pahk turned to Charis and cast another spell. “Thin Zhentahl nienne Kelath.” A ring of fire sprang up around Pahk and encircled him. As the fire circled around Pahk, it leapt out and burned Charis’ arm. The pain was intense, but not significant.

Charis responded with a magical assault of her own. “Thin Zhendahl gat Teos.” Her hand extended towards Pahk, but she was wary of getting too close. She didn’t want to allow the fiery ring to have another chance to strike her. A ray of blinding energy burst forth from her palm and struck Pahk in the chest. Charis added insult to the injury. “You will find that Bemme is more powerful than Yrraxea.”

Pahk spat blood and spittle upon the ground and spoke while he planned his next assault. “You serve Bemme? While you are obviously misguided, my quarrel is not with you. Stand aside and I will let you live!” Pahk swung his dagger half-heartedly at Charis. Although his assault missed, the ring of fire circling him drew close enough to blast Charis with another strike.

Charis replied to Pahk’s religious assertion. “While Bemme has no official quarrel against Yrraxea, you are self-serving. Bemme’s love is charitable, and all those who seek to lift themselves above the community must be stopped.”

Pahk shrugged and smiled. “So be it! Thin Shintar tok Arash.” Pahk used a spell that Charis had seen Ischarus use a time or two. The knowledge did not help her avoid Pahk’s effect, however. A green arrow coated with acid emerged from each of Pahk’s hands and shot forward to strike Charis. Both arrows slammed into Charis’ chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

Charis had enough of trading magical blows. It was clear that Pahk was much more of a capable spell caster than most of the Wizard’s College guards had assumed. If she were going to defeat him, it would not be in a magical exchange. She lifted her shield defensively and swung hard with her pick. The pointed end struck hard and penetrated Pahk’s flimsy clothing. A pool of blood quickly formed in the clothing around his shoulder.

Pahk fell to his knees and looked up to Charis in anger. Magical words began to form on his lips as his shoulder oozed blood and plasma. Charis turned the pick a quarter turn and swung hard in an upward blow. The flat side of the pick caught Pahk under the chin and flipped him onto his back. He lay motionless on the ground.

Rhema released the ring of ice as soon as she saw Pahk fall to the ground. With her mind no longer providing the energy for the ice to exist, it dissipated quickly and the warehouse lost its cool spot. She turned and walked towards Semeion, who was trying to extinguish the flames among the wooden storage crates caused by Pahk’s earlier spell.

Ischarus had let Semeion handle the flames while he stood guard over one of the Yrraxeans who had tried to flee but instead got caught in the blast from Pahk’s fiery explosion. As the Yrraxean returned to consciousness, he was startled to see Ischarus standing over him. He quickly looked around and realized that except for Pahk the rest of his cult had fled. Pahk lay motionless on the ground, defeated.

Ischarus scowled and knelt down, holding his blade under the chin of the Yrraxean. “I’m going to assume that you got involved in this cult as a mistake. If that’s true, then your mistake can be forgiven. And if you want forgiveness, you had better explain what was happening here.”

The Yrraxean continued to sweat, and drips of his sweat ran down his face and pooled on the flat of Ischarus’ blade. “We were waiting for Allyssa. Pahk said something about the plan failing miserably. Allyssa was sent to Eberdeen. She was to return here and we were going to move to a new country.”

Ischarus smiled. “You speak vaguely, Yrraxean. What do you know of Allyssa’s mission?”

The Yrraxean shook his head slowly from side to side. “I know nothing, really. Pahk and Allyssa told us that if we supported them we would find ourselves in a new status in a few days. They promised us power and prestige.”

Ischarus looked at the Yrraxean as though he were disappointed. “Power and prestige? Where would this come from?”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard. “There are many who know that Lord Ironblood only thinks of himself. We assumed that they were planning something to remove him from power. But honestly, we were never told as much. We were simply promised power and prestige for our assistance.”

Ischarus chuckled once more. “Let’s just say that you guess is not far from home. But, they planned it to be much bigger. They planned to assassinate the king and all the leaders in Tongra. And they almost succeeded. You almost played a part in that plan. You almost played a part in the assassination of all the leaders of Tongra.”

The Yrraxean swallowed hard, obviously disturbed by Ischarus’ revelation. “But, I had no idea. I swear!”

Charis called to Ischarus and interrupted his interrogation. “I found a communiqué on Pahk.”

Rhema called from another area of the warehouse. “Read it, Charis.”

Charis nodded and replied. “Pahk. The plan is in ruins. No assassinations have occurred. We are sailing for Fenneress, where we will return to Quehalost and wait for the Queen to summon our might again. Wait for Allyssa to return and report on her assassination attempt. If she failed, rendezvous with us in Fenneress. If she succeeded, stay in Tongra and contact us. We may still succeed at revolution.”

The Yrraxean underneath Ischarus’ sword called out. “I knew nothing of it, I swear!”

Ischarus smiled. “I pray that is true, for your sake. It may mean the difference between jail and a stay at a temple for some education in the truth.”
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Sep 13, 2007)

*Chapter Fourteen: PROMISING RESPITE*

Semeion and Charis woke up early the following morning.  They had slept restlessly back in Iasho’s partially completed villa in Huetown.  Much of the structure of the house was built and many of the rooms were defined with walls, doors, and windows.  In spite of the state of the construction, it didn’t feel like home to Semeion and Charis.  It felt too barren to be a home.

It was Charis’ fidgeting that ultimately had woken Semeion, but Semeion was glad to be roused from his own restless sleep.  The disturbing activity involving the discovery of the cultists and their plans of the last few days had given him troubling dreams.  When Charis decided to get out of bed for the morning, Semeion woke up and decided that her decision made good sense for him as well.

The pair headed downstairs and stoked the fire in the stone and mortar chimney.  Charis gathered a few thick pieces of wood from the stack outside while Semeion sorted the warm coals from the cool ones.  By the time Charis returned with the wood, Semeion had a small pile of red coals waiting for the opportunity to ignite more wood.  Charis arranged the wood in a simple structure that resembled a lean-to shelter.  The wood smoldered for several minutes before igniting.  Soon the wood crackled and gave forth its warmth.

Ischarus’ voice caught the pair by surprise from behind.  “Coffee?”

Both Semeion and Charis jumped at the sound of the voice.  Semeion turned around and smiled.  “I think you enjoyed that.”  He paused for a second to nod in favor of Ischarus’ suggestion before taking the conversation in a new direction.  “Didn’t you sleep well either?”

Ischarus smiled.  “No, not particularly.  Too many nights on the road, I guess.  I never sleep well the first couple of nights back in Huetown.  I guess my body just gets used to sleeping lightly and I struggle to get a good night’s sleep.”

Charis smiled compassionately.  “I found the house a little disturbing.  It’s just too empty to feel right.”

Ischarus approved of Charis’ comment.  “Yeah, but you can’t really blame Iasho for keeping the house as bare as possible until the construction is completed in full.”  Ischarus grabbed a thick metal pot and headed outside.  He was going for the water.  Iasho hadn’t had time to install a water tank so that they could have a reservoir of water inside.

Semeion tended the fire while Charis walked over to a cabinet hanging on the wall.  She opened a large burlap bag and pulled out a handful of roasted coffee beans.  She lifted a small marble mortar and pestle off of a shelf and began to grind the beans into a rough powder.  By the time Ischarus had returned with the pot of water, Rhema was ready with the beans.  She dumped them straight into the water.

Iasho moved to the stone and mortar chimney and hung the pot from a nail that had been secured between a pair of large stones.  The bottom of the pot hung only inches above the flames and in a prime position to absorb direct heat from the fire as well as indirect heat reflecting off of the interior of the chimney.

The smell of the brewing coffee woke several of the servants.  As was Iasho’s tradition, the servants remained in the kitchen and waited for their morning coffee before heading out to work in the fields while breakfast was being prepared.  If the weather behaved, several of the servants would continue to work on the house while the rest tried to work in the field with the crops that had been replanted.

Once the servants had departed and the trio had their coffee to sip, Ischarus sat down on the floor atop a cushion.  “The crops look good, considering.  You know we never really found out how the damage was done.”

Semeion shrugged.  “I doubt we’ll ever know the whole truth.  Pahk certainly demonstrated that he has control over fire.  The wizard of Eberdeen certainly could have sent him here to accomplish that fact.”

A twinkle sparkled in Charis eye as she enjoyed a sip of the warm brew.  “Personally, I’m thinking that it was dragon.  I know that it would be hard for a fire breathing lizard to get this far north undetected, but they could have come over the sea and down from the north.”

Semeion countered his wife’s suggestion, too.  “Possible, although that would be a long flight for a dragon.  To come from Quehalost and over the mountains would be a feat for a fire breather.  They wouldn’t like the cold temperature of the altitude.  Then, I doubt they would enjoy flying over that much water, either.  But it is possible, should the payoff have been worth it.”

Ischarus chimed in with his own dragon knowledge.  “I suppose it could have been a breather of lightning as well.  After all, natural lightning can be a deadly fire starter.  However, I can’t see a dragon who breathes lightning enjoying a flight over all that water that much either.”

Charis turned back to Ischarus.  “Well, I obviously put my money on the dragon who swoops in to do a wizard of Yrraxea’s bidding.  Neither of you two seems to think it very possible.  Semeion thinks it was a magical fire.  What do you say, Ischarus?”

Ischarus shrugged.  “Honestly?  For all I know it could have been Darkbringer and a series of matches and flammable liquid.  It could have been something powerful like a dragon or something magical.  But it could be a mundane source, too.  I think Semeion is right.  I doubt that we’ll ever truly know.”

Charis accepted what she knew was the truth.  “So, are we staying around the villa today and helping rebuild?  That would be a nice change considering the past couple of weeks of action.”

Ischarus smiled.  He thought of his wife still sleeping in the upstairs bedroom.  “For Rhema’s sake and for Iasho, I’d really like to stick around.  We’ve been running all over the Confederacy of Tongra when our hearts really wanted to be here for Rhema and Iasho.  I think it would do us good to stick around.”

Semeion looked a little disappointed.  “I wouldn’t mind going it to see Brandt and making sure the business is settled.  But I certainly can’t object to staying around here.

Charis reached over and put her arm around Semeion’s shoulders.  “Brandt knows where to find us.  In fact, Brandt’s shared a meal or two with us around the cooking pits.  If something comes up, he’ll let us know.  But most of the Yrraxeans in Shiftedburg will scatter, and hopefully give up their faith for a more acceptable one.  Many of the other Yrraxeans have fled the country for Quehalost, as unsettling as that thought might be.  We should be safe for a while.”

Semeion settled back into Charis’ embrace with a smile on his face.  Ischarus chuckled at Charis’ assertion.  “Famous last words, Charis.  I hope that you’re right, but I fear that you just jinxed us!  Either way, though, can you imagine sailing the whole way to Fenneress knowing that your home destination is Quehalost?”

Charis nodded.  That was the point to which she was trying to get.  “Yeah, I understand.  I lived there for a few decades, and I’m glad to be on this side of the mountains.  Life in Quehalost is so physically dangerous.  I mean, here we have dangers, but seldom are they ever totally life or death.  In Quehalost, almost every day can be life or death.”

A silence fell over the trio.  Charis had been with them for so long now that Ischarus and Semeion had forgotten how closely Charis would still remember her life in Quehalost.  When she reminded her husband and Ischarus, it placed the conversation in a new perspective.  The three adventurers, who were gathered around the fire and seated on cushions on the floor, each sipped their coffee while deep in thought.  It was a good morning to relax deep in thought.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
*Chapter Fourteen: PROMISING RESPITE*

Semeion and Charis woke up early the following morning. They had slept restlessly back in Iasho’s partially completed villa in Huetown. Much of the structure of the house was built and many of the rooms were defined with walls, doors, and windows. In spite of the state of the construction, it didn’t feel like home to Semeion and Charis. It felt too barren to be a home.

It was Charis’ fidgeting that ultimately had woken Semeion, but Semeion was glad to be roused from his own restless sleep. The disturbing activity involving the discovery of the cultists and their plans of the last few days had given him troubling dreams. When Charis decided to get out of bed for the morning, Semeion woke up and decided that her decision made good sense for him as well.

The pair headed downstairs and stoked the fire in the stone and mortar chimney. Charis gathered a few thick pieces of wood from the stack outside while Semeion sorted the warm coals from the cool ones. By the time Charis returned with the wood, Semeion had a small pile of red coals waiting for the opportunity to ignite more wood. Charis arranged the wood in a simple structure that resembled a lean-to shelter. The wood smoldered for several minutes before igniting. Soon the wood crackled and gave forth its warmth.

Ischarus’ voice caught the pair by surprise from behind. “Coffee?”

Both Semeion and Charis jumped at the sound of the voice. Semeion turned around and smiled. “I think you enjoyed that.” He paused for a second to nod in favor of Ischarus’ suggestion before taking the conversation in a new direction. “Didn’t you sleep well either?”

Ischarus smiled. “No, not particularly. Too many nights on the road, I guess. I never sleep well the first couple of nights back in Huetown. I guess my body just gets used to sleeping lightly and I struggle to get a good night’s sleep.”

Charis smiled compassionately. “I found the house a little disturbing. It’s just too empty to feel right.”

Ischarus approved of Charis’ comment. “Yeah, but you can’t really blame Iasho for keeping the house as bare as possible until the construction is completed in full.” Ischarus grabbed a thick metal pot and headed outside. He was going for the water. Iasho hadn’t had time to install a water tank so that they could have a reservoir of water inside.

Semeion tended the fire while Charis walked over to a cabinet hanging on the wall. She opened a large burlap bag and pulled out a handful of roasted coffee beans. She lifted a small marble mortar and pestle off of a shelf and began to grind the beans into a rough powder. By the time Ischarus had returned with the pot of water, Rhema was ready with the beans. She dumped them straight into the water.

Iasho moved to the stone and mortar chimney and hung the pot from a nail that had been secured between a pair of large stones. The bottom of the pot hung only inches above the flames and in a prime position to absorb direct heat from the fire as well as indirect heat reflecting off of the interior of the chimney.

The smell of the brewing coffee woke several of the servants. As was Iasho’s tradition, the servants remained in the kitchen and waited for their morning coffee before heading out to work in the fields while breakfast was being prepared. If the weather behaved, several of the servants would continue to work on the house while the rest tried to work in the field with the crops that had been replanted.

Once the servants had departed and the trio had their coffee to sip, Ischarus sat down on the floor atop a cushion. “The crops look good, considering. You know we never really found out how the damage was done.”

Semeion shrugged. “I doubt we’ll ever know the whole truth. Pahk certainly demonstrated that he has control over fire. The wizard of Eberdeen certainly could have sent him here to accomplish that fact.”

A twinkle sparkled in Charis eye as she enjoyed a sip of the warm brew. “Personally, I’m thinking that it was dragon. I know that it would be hard for a fire breathing lizard to get this far north undetected, but they could have come over the sea and down from the north.”

Semeion countered his wife’s suggestion, too. “Possible, although that would be a long flight for a dragon. To come from Quehalost and over the mountains would be a feat for a fire breather. They wouldn’t like the cold temperature of the altitude. Then, I doubt they would enjoy flying over that much water, either. But it is possible, should the payoff have been worth it.”

Ischarus chimed in with his own dragon knowledge. “I suppose it could have been a breather of lightning as well. After all, natural lightning can be a deadly fire starter. However, I can’t see a dragon who breathes lightning enjoying a flight over all that water that much either.”

Charis turned back to Ischarus. “Well, I obviously put my money on the dragon who swoops in to do a wizard of Yrraxea’s bidding. Neither of you two seems to think it very possible. Semeion thinks it was a magical fire. What do you say, Ischarus?”

Ischarus shrugged. “Honestly? For all I know it could have been Darkbringer and a series of matches and flammable liquid. It could have been something powerful like a dragon or something magical. But it could be a mundane source, too. I think Semeion is right. I doubt that we’ll ever truly know.”

Charis accepted what she knew was the truth. “So, are we staying around the villa today and helping rebuild? That would be a nice change considering the past couple of weeks of action.”

Ischarus smiled. He thought of his wife still sleeping in the upstairs bedroom. “For Rhema’s sake and for Iasho, I’d really like to stick around. We’ve been running all over the Confederacy of Tongra when our hearts really wanted to be here for Rhema and Iasho. I think it would do us good to stick around.”

Semeion looked a little disappointed. “I wouldn’t mind going it to see Brandt and making sure the business is settled. But I certainly can’t object to staying around here.

Charis reached over and put her arm around Semeion’s shoulders. “Brandt knows where to find us. In fact, Brandt’s shared a meal or two with us around the cooking pits. If something comes up, he’ll let us know. But most of the Yrraxeans in Shiftedburg will scatter, and hopefully give up their faith for a more acceptable one. Many of the other Yrraxeans have fled the country for Quehalost, as unsettling as that thought might be. We should be safe for a while.”

Semeion settled back into Charis’ embrace with a smile on his face. Ischarus chuckled at Charis’ assertion. “Famous last words, Charis. I hope that you’re right, but I fear that you just jinxed us! Either way, though, can you imagine sailing the whole way to Fenneress knowing that your home destination is Quehalost?”

Charis nodded. That was the point to which she was trying to get. “Yeah, I understand. I lived there for a few decades, and I’m glad to be on this side of the mountains. Life in Quehalost is so physically dangerous. I mean, here we have dangers, but seldom are they ever totally life or death. In Quehalost, almost every day can be life or death.”

A silence fell over the trio. Charis had been with them for so long now that Ischarus and Semeion had forgotten how closely Charis would still remember her life in Quehalost. When she reminded her husband and Ischarus, it placed the conversation in a new perspective. The three adventurers, who were gathered around the fire and seated on cushions on the floor, each sipped their coffee while deep in thought. It was a good morning to relax deep in thought.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 17, 2007)

Iasho was the second to last to wake in the house.  It was unusual for him to sleep so long after his servants had woken for the morning.  By the time he rose from his bed and joined the trio in the great room below they were on their second pot of boiled coffee.  The trio nodded to him as he descended the stairs from above.

Ischarus looked to his father-in-law.  “Your daughter is sleeping late, Iasho.  Later than you on this day!”  The light humor in the morning was met with a smile as Ischarus handed a mug to Iasho.  The mug had been warming by the fire so that when coffee was poured into it the drink wouldn’t cool so fast.

Iasho accepted the mug and allowed a slight yawn to slip through his lips.  “Thank you, Ischarus.  I never sleep well when you all are away from the villa.  When you return safely, I think I finally relax.  Some of the best nights of sleeping I’ve ever had are the nights that you all come home.”

Charis gave Iasho an appreciative smile, but Semeion hid his appreciation in a joke.  “Are you telling us that we need to leave more often so that we can return more often and you can sleep well?”

The four people in the room laughed, and Ischarus reached for the warm pot in order to pour Iasho some coffee.  Charis caught Iasho’s earlier yawn and accepted the fact that it made her need to yawn as well.  Once she had completed the yawn, she continued the conversation.  “As for me, I felt restless.  I’m not sure that it was newness of the house as much as the stress of the last few days.”

Iasho looked out a window to the servants toiling in the fields.  “Nothing that a hard day’s work in the sun won’t fix, Charis.  I always raised Rhema to believe that the best way to relieve stress and anxiety is to go and work with the ground.  If you spend enough time on your hands and knees pulling out weeds, your mind will forget almost everything that seeks to distract it.”

Charis smiled at the sentiment.  It was a subtle clue, but not officially directed in her direction.  Iasho always welcomed the party’s help with the work of the villa, but it was never demanded.  They helped out in their own ways.  However, Charis also knew that many of the servants remaining on the villa were spawn of a dragon like herself.  The weeds that she pulled wouldn’t matter in the long run.  The teaching, compassion, and conversation that occurred as she spent time with the servants in the field would matter.

Iasho turned to Ischarus as he grabbed a large skillet from a hook where it hung.  “When Rhema wakes, and she’ll wake once she smells breakfast, would the two of you go to the butcher in Huetown and purchase a few chickens?  I’ve not bought much meat from the butcher in a few weeks, and he could use the money.  Besides, I’d like to use the roasting pit again.  It is time to warm the hearts of the servants.  Perhaps I’ll give them some time off this afternoon in preparation for a feast.”

Ischarus accepted the task with pleasure.  “Of course, Iasho.  Would you like me to start a fire to warm the stones so that the roasting pit is warmed while we’re away?”

Iasho cracked open two eggs on the side of the skillet, and his back was to Ischarus.  “If you have the time, that would be ideal.”  He reached for two more eggs.  The amount of food that would be needed to feed the family and the servants would be imposing for the skillet.

Ischarus listened to the crack of the eggs on the side of the skillet and he was reminded of the spirit of Iasho’s words.  The eggs were raised here by Iasho, and he had plenty of chickens to spare.  He could have easily sent Ischarus out to catch a few of them on the villa and clean them.  There was no real need to buy the chickens from the butcher other than to find a way to get the butcher some money.  He smiled at yet another subtle way in which Iasho cared for the people around him.  Ischarus was lucky to have been led here so many years ago.  He had found Rhema, of course, but he had managed to learn quite a bit from her father as well.

Ischarus stood and began to walk towards the door when he heard the sound of footsteps upon the stairs behind him.  There was only one person who hadn’t come down, so he decided to stop and wait for his wife to join them.  When she appeared in the great room, she looked groggy, as if she had slept hard and woke suddenly.  She smiled half-heartedly and crossed the room to where Ischarus stood.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk her head into his chest.  She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell of her husband.

Ischarus returned the embrace by putting his own arms around her.  “I was about to go and light a fire to warm some stones during breakfast.  Then we’ll get the roasting pit warming and head off to buy a few chickens from the butcher.”

Rhema nodded, refusing to open her eyes again.  Ischarus hugged her tightly and then released her, indicating that it was time that she released him as well.  She complied, and Ischarus kissed her on her forehead.  “Coffee is in the fire in the chimney, and there are warm mugs beside the fire.  I’ll see you for breakfast.”

Rhema turned and walked groggily towards the fire and poured herself a mug of coffee.  When she had sipped it to make sure that the taste was satisfying, she found the pillow that had been used by Ischarus and settled upon it.  She was content for now to let the coffee rouse her from her sleepy haze.  She was enjoying the spreading smell of the eggs and onion cooking in the skillet.

Charis stood up and walked past Rhema.  She ruffled her hair in a greeting as she moved by her.  “Iasho, can I put out some fruit for breakfast?”

Iasho nodded.  “Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes.  You can set out a basket of fruit if you’d like.  Sort it, though, so that the ripest fruit is first.”

Charis grinned as Iasho gave her instructions as though she were a child.  It wasn’t his fault.  Part of running the villa meant that his servants would need training in most aspects of civilized life on the villa, and Iasho gave instruction out of habit rather than feeling it necessary for the situation.  Charis replied with a tease in her voice.  “As always.”

Rhema turned back to Semeion.  “Any word from Brandt, yet?”

Semeion sipped a bit of coffee and leaned backwards.  “Nothing, but it is still early.  The king’s men were sent to search for the Yrraxeans, but the Yrraxeans did have a head start.  We might not hear from Brandt for a few days.”

Rhema nodded and sipped a few more times.  As the coffee brought her into a better state of awareness, she rose up and walked over to a window to check on Ischarus.  The fire was nearly built and ready to be lit.  Ischarus had even gathered up the stones for burial in the roasting pit.  Rhema rested her mug on a shelf beside the fire and grabbed a torch.  She held the torch head in the flames for a few seconds until the oil soaked cloth caught fire.  She strutted outside with the torch.

She caught Ischarus’ eye as she exited the building and he smiled at her.  Rhema returned the smile.  “Breakfast is almost ready, and I’ve brought you a firestarter.  You looked about ready for it.”

Ischarus gestured to the fire.  “Be my guest!  The fire’s ready, and the stones will warm up while we eat, then.”

Rhema stuck the lighted end of the torch to the base of the fire and the kindling was quick to catch.  Soon, the fire burned brightly, warming the roasting stones.  Rhema turned the torch over and almost thrust it into a pail of sand.  The sand was there to smother the flames safely and extinguish the fire.  She hesitated for a moment and smiled.  She turned the torch back to an upright position and looked to the flame.  Through a force of will she focused on flickering.  For no apparent physical reason, the flames on the torch extinguished themselves and a thin wisp of smoke curled upwards into the air.

Ischarus smiled and nodded to the door.  Iasho appeared and rang the first bell.  Breakfast would be ready in a few minutes.  It was time for the servants to come in from the fields.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Iasho was the second to last to wake in the house. It was unusual for him to sleep so long after his servants had woken for the morning. By the time he rose from his bed and joined the trio in the great room below they were on their second pot of boiled coffee. The trio nodded to him as he descended the stairs from above.

Ischarus looked to his father-in-law. “Your daughter is sleeping late, Iasho. Later than you on this day!” The light humor in the morning was met with a smile as Ischarus handed a mug to Iasho. The mug had been warming by the fire so that when coffee was poured into it the drink wouldn’t cool so fast.

Iasho accepted the mug and allowed a slight yawn to slip through his lips. “Thank you, Ischarus. I never sleep well when you all are away from the villa. When you return safely, I think I finally relax. Some of the best nights of sleeping I’ve ever had are the nights that you all come home.”

Charis gave Iasho an appreciative smile, but Semeion hid his appreciation in a joke. “Are you telling us that we need to leave more often so that we can return more often and you can sleep well?”

The four people in the room laughed, and Ischarus reached for the warm pot in order to pour Iasho some coffee. Charis caught Iasho’s earlier yawn and accepted the fact that it made her need to yawn as well. Once she had completed the yawn, she continued the conversation. “As for me, I felt restless. I’m not sure that it was newness of the house as much as the stress of the last few days.”

Iasho looked out a window to the servants toiling in the fields. “Nothing that a hard day’s work in the sun won’t fix, Charis. I always raised Rhema to believe that the best way to relieve stress and anxiety is to go and work with the ground. If you spend enough time on your hands and knees pulling out weeds, your mind will forget almost everything that seeks to distract it.”

Charis smiled at the sentiment. It was a subtle clue, but not officially directed in her direction. Iasho always welcomed the party’s help with the work of the villa, but it was never demanded. They helped out in their own ways. However, Charis also knew that many of the servants remaining on the villa were spawn of a dragon like herself. The weeds that she pulled wouldn’t matter in the long run. The teaching, compassion, and conversation that occurred as she spent time with the servants in the field would matter.

Iasho turned to Ischarus as he grabbed a large skillet from a hook where it hung. “When Rhema wakes, and she’ll wake once she smells breakfast, would the two of you go to the butcher in Huetown and purchase a few chickens? I’ve not bought much meat from the butcher in a few weeks, and he could use the money. Besides, I’d like to use the roasting pit again. It is time to warm the hearts of the servants. Perhaps I’ll give them some time off this afternoon in preparation for a feast.”

Ischarus accepted the task with pleasure. “Of course, Iasho. Would you like me to start a fire to warm the stones so that the roasting pit is warmed while we’re away?”

Iasho cracked open two eggs on the side of the skillet, and his back was to Ischarus. “If you have the time, that would be ideal.” He reached for two more eggs. The amount of food that would be needed to feed the family and the servants would be imposing for the skillet.

Ischarus listened to the crack of the eggs on the side of the skillet and he was reminded of the spirit of Iasho’s words. The eggs were raised here by Iasho, and he had plenty of chickens to spare. He could have easily sent Ischarus out to catch a few of them on the villa and clean them. There was no real need to buy the chickens from the butcher other than to find a way to get the butcher some money. He smiled at yet another subtle way in which Iasho cared for the people around him. Ischarus was lucky to have been led here so many years ago. He had found Rhema, of course, but he had managed to learn quite a bit from her father as well.

Ischarus stood and began to walk towards the door when he heard the sound of footsteps upon the stairs behind him. There was only one person who hadn’t come down, so he decided to stop and wait for his wife to join them. When she appeared in the great room, she looked groggy, as if she had slept hard and woke suddenly. She smiled half-heartedly and crossed the room to where Ischarus stood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk her head into his chest. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell of her husband.

Ischarus returned the embrace by putting his own arms around her. “I was about to go and light a fire to warm some stones during breakfast. Then we’ll get the roasting pit warming and head off to buy a few chickens from the butcher.”

Rhema nodded, refusing to open her eyes again. Ischarus hugged her tightly and then released her, indicating that it was time that she released him as well. She complied, and Ischarus kissed her on her forehead. “Coffee is in the fire in the chimney, and there are warm mugs beside the fire. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

Rhema turned and walked groggily towards the fire and poured herself a mug of coffee. When she had sipped it to make sure that the taste was satisfying, she found the pillow that had been used by Ischarus and settled upon it. She was content for now to let the coffee rouse her from her sleepy haze. She was enjoying the spreading smell of the eggs and onion cooking in the skillet.

Charis stood up and walked past Rhema. She ruffled her hair in a greeting as she moved by her. “Iasho, can I put out some fruit for breakfast?”

Iasho nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes. You can set out a basket of fruit if you’d like. Sort it, though, so that the ripest fruit is first.”

Charis grinned as Iasho gave her instructions as though she were a child. It wasn’t his fault. Part of running the villa meant that his servants would need training in most aspects of civilized life on the villa, and Iasho gave instruction out of habit rather than feeling it necessary for the situation. Charis replied with a tease in her voice. “As always.”

Rhema turned back to Semeion. “Any word from Brandt, yet?”

Semeion sipped a bit of coffee and leaned backwards. “Nothing, but it is still early. The king’s men were sent to search for the Yrraxeans, but the Yrraxeans did have a head start. We might not hear from Brandt for a few days.”

Rhema nodded and sipped a few more times. As the coffee brought her into a better state of awareness, she rose up and walked over to a window to check on Ischarus. The fire was nearly built and ready to be lit. Ischarus had even gathered up the stones for burial in the roasting pit. Rhema rested her mug on a shelf beside the fire and grabbed a torch. She held the torch head in the flames for a few seconds until the oil soaked cloth caught fire. She strutted outside with the torch.

She caught Ischarus’ eye as she exited the building and he smiled at her. Rhema returned the smile. “Breakfast is almost ready, and I’ve brought you a firestarter. You looked about ready for it.”

Ischarus gestured to the fire. “Be my guest! The fire’s ready, and the stones will warm up while we eat, then.”

Rhema stuck the lighted end of the torch to the base of the fire and the kindling was quick to catch. Soon, the fire burned brightly, warming the roasting stones. Rhema turned the torch over and almost thrust it into a pail of sand. The sand was there to smother the flames safely and extinguish the fire. She hesitated for a moment and smiled. She turned the torch back to an upright position and looked to the flame. Through a force of will she focused on flickering. For no apparent physical reason, the flames on the torch extinguished themselves and a thin wisp of smoke curled upwards into the air.

Ischarus smiled and nodded to the door. Iasho appeared and rang the first bell. Breakfast would be ready in a few minutes. It was time for the servants to come in from the fields.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 18, 2007)

After breakfast was finished, Ischarus and Rhema headed into the small village of Huetown in order to seek out the butcher and purchase a healthy stock of poultry for the roasting pit.  There was to be a festival now that the foursome was planning on staying home for some time to recuperate.

Iasho had decided to give the workers half of the afternoon off in preparation of the festival, and the mere mention of the ease of work lifted the spirits of all.  When breakfast was over, the workers once more went into the fields, but their burden of work was lifted by the promised rest.  Granted, the workers all knew that Iasho was not a hard master to serve, but they also knew that it would be nice to not have to spend all day in the sun as well.

Charis decided that she would join the workers in the field for the rest of the morning and the afternoon.  Iasho’s earlier comment had convinced her that she needed to be with the people.  Many of those working on the villa looked up to her since she was one of them.  Like them, she had been rescued from Quehalost and brought into freedom.  She had to learn a new language and a new lifestyle.  She had to learn how to handle freedom and accountability.  She had to learn how to cast off oppression forever.  She knew what it was like to go through what the workers were learning.

Of course, Charis knew all of the workers by name.  Those who were left on the villa had been to Ausaphaborishan’s Valley for the wedding.  These were the ones who had returned after the celebration and began the process of replanting and rebuilding.  It had been a harder summer than most, and Charis loved these workers all the more for it.

Charis stood at the edge of the field and looked as the workers spread out down the rows.  She turned back to the house, but Semeion hadn’t joined her.  He was more interested in the academics of rebuilding the villa.  He wanted to oversee portions of the building process and help where he could.  Charis turned back to the field and found the woman that she was looking for.

Charis walked across the dirt of the field.  Earlier in the summer, she would have sunk into the rich soil.  However, the sun and the footsteps of the many workers had since compressed the tilled soil into solid walking paths.  The woman looked up to Charis as she approached.  Although Charis had approached from the woman’s back, the woman was aware of her approach through the subtle vibrations in the soil.  Soft soil would have disguised Charis’ approach, but the compacted dirt transferred small sensations to the woman’s fingers and legs as she knelt on the ground and worked with the plants.

Charis greeted the woman.  “Tija, I’m glad I found you.”

The woman nodded and smiled brightly.  Although her face was muddied from where Tija had used her dirty fingers to wipe sweat away, her teeth shined brightly in the sun.  “And I am glad to see you safe and returned, Provenience.”

Charis winced at the title.  Most of the workers on the villa had stopped using it in reference to her, but Tija refused to quit.  Charis was grateful that Semeion had stayed near the house, because the use of the title didn’t make him happy.  To someone born in Tongra or any of the other free lands, the title only reminded them of the cruel bondage of Quehalost.  However, Charis knew that to Tija it was a means of constantly thanking Charis for coming back to free them.  Charis nodded politely once she had recovered from the use of the name.  “Tija, you are free now.  You are learning how to live in a world where you make the decisions and you are accountable for your actions.  You do not need to call me Provenience.  I have no power over you.”

Tija turned back to the plant that she was working on.  “I hear that you and your friends have once more stopped a power of Quehalost from taking control.  You deserve honor.”

Charis blushed at the praise and knelt beside her.  They were being listened to by many of the workers around them.  She knew that these were the conversations that Iasho valued.  The weeds that she pulled would be one thing, but they would eventually grow back.  The values that Charis could teach to the villa workers would never fail.  She thrust her index finger into the ground and lifted a weed out.  “I seem to have forgotten a weed bag, Tija.  May I use yours?”

Tija smiled.  Charis always forgot a weed bag.  It was almost as though she did it intentionally.  “Certainly, Provenience.”

Charis dropped the weed into the burlap sack that Tija shifted to rest between them.  “We vindicated the villa and were the voice of love and justice in Tongra.  You are correct in that, Tija.  But that does not make us heroes.”

Tija paused and looked to Charis.  “There are some who say that a few days ago you helped to slay a demon and a powerful wizard.  You also played a part in slaying our dragon father.  You traveled to Tongra and returned to Quehalost for us.  In fact, there are other people who say that you have since been to Quehalost to battle a dark druid.  What about each of those events does not make you a hero?”

Charis plucked another weed from beneath around the base of a stalk of corn.  “Great actions do not make a hero, Tija.  Many people do many great things, but not many of them are heroes.  In fact, you could say that I was merely doing my job.”

Tija smirked.  “If that is your job, then I am grateful to have the simple job of plucking weeds from the ground.”

Charis waited until she caught Tija’s eyes and then smiled at her.  “And that is why you are one of my heroes.  I know what it is like to be freed from the grips of our dragon father.  But so do you.  I know how hard it is to make the transition from being a slave to being a freed servant.  But so do you.  You work to improve your life every day.  The people around you do the same.  You are learning every day.  You do not give up regardless of the adversity.”

Tija looked back to the ground, not understanding.  “But this is a gift to me and our people.  How could we not embrace this new freedom?”

Charis also turned back to the ground, noting how quiet the fields had gotten.  More and more were listening to what she had to say.  “You are free, yet you stay loyal to what Iasho has to teach you.  When the villa burned, you all knew that the summer would be hard.  Yet none of you left.  Every day you toil against the ground knowing that the ground is both your ally and your enemy.  The very nutrients in the soil necessary for the crops also give birth to the weeds that want to choke out the crops of the fields.  You labor hard and seldom complain against Iasho.”

Tija yanked hard at a weed and it broke at the surface level.  The root was still buried in the dirt.  “But, Iasho is good to us.  He asks only that we labor and learn, and he treats us well.  You all treat us well, Provenience.”

Charis laughed.  “The situation is really irrelevant, Tija.  In some ways, you are like the weed that just snapped off at the ground level.  The weed can only be thankful for the good situation that it has been given to grow in.  It has the choice to grow strong or weak.  It chose to grow strong, and in so doing it planted its roots to make it able to resist being pulled out.  It worked hard to give itself the best chance that it could to live.”

Tija’s hands closed around the root of the weed that was still in the ground.  “But, it is just a weed.”

Charis smiled.  “It is.  But it is a weed that chose to work hard and make the best of what it was given.  And if you were to leave the roots where they are, what would happen to it?”

Tija shrugged.  “It would grow back, probably.  And it would likely grow back stronger than before.”

Charis smiled broadly.  She loved it when she was able to make the servants of the villa teach themselves.  “That is precisely my point.  Slaying a demon does not make me a hero.  Playing my part in stopping cultists does not make me a hero, either.  Refusing to buckle under adversity makes you a hero.  Taking what life gives you and working hard to make the best of it makes you a hero.  You could have given up and accepted the tragedy of the destruction of the villa.  But none of you quit and none of you abandoned Iasho.  You accepted the harder labor of the summer and have overcome your adversity.  You think what we did was tough?  We have labored for only a few days.  You all that live here on the villa have labored every day without complaint.  You have all worked hard to improve your condition but also out of concern for Iasho and the community that he helps support.  That makes you a hero in my eyes.”

Tija yanked hard at the root that had snapped off earlier.  The root came, but not before breaking off deeper in the ground.  “I wanted to leave the root there, but it is my job.”

Charis laughed.  “It was only an analogy, Tija.  Pull the root.  But realize that a person’s greatness is not measured by how awesome the high points of their life are.  A person’s greatness is measured by what they do with their life.  It isn’t how big they are, but how far reaching the effects of their goodness has on their life and the lives around them.  A hero takes greatness and uses it to make the world around them better. They are concerned about the world around them more than themselves.  Personally, I’d rather be friends with someone that I know will come and help me rebuild my villa than someone who makes a big deal about slaying demons and stopping cultists.”

Tija blushed at the compliment.  “Then you too are a hero, Provenience.”

Charis paused for a moment and used her dirty right hand to push her hair back over her shoulder.  With her hair removed, she could see Tija out of the corner of her eye.  “Oh?”

Tija smiled and nodded.  “You are a hero because you do not forget the workers of the field.  You certainly deserve to be exalted, but you would rather praise us and teach us.”  A sudden look of understanding passed over her face and she smiled as though she were pleased by her thought.  “You are a hero to me, Provenience.  Although you are given awesomely high points in your life, you would rather return and dwell in the normal valleys with the rest of the world.”

Charis blushed, and Tija continued to speak.  “I understand that you do not want to be called a hero for slaying a demon or stopping cultists.  But you will always be a hero in my eyes because you sacrifice your life for those around you.  You didn’t have to come back for us, but you did.  You brought us into freedom, and you still haven’t abandoned us.  If I am a hero for not abandoning Iasho in his time of need, then you are a hero for not abandoning your people in their time of need.  In fact, I think now more than ever you are deserving of the title Provenience.”

Charis smiled.  Tija had gotten the point of her lesson.  But, she had also gotten Tija’s point.  “Then it  will be our little secret.  My title will be a reminder that you are a hero, too.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
After breakfast was finished, Ischarus and Rhema headed into the small village of Huetown in order to seek out the butcher and purchase a healthy stock of poultry for the roasting pit. There was to be a festival now that the foursome was planning on staying home for some time to recuperate.

Iasho had decided to give the workers half of the afternoon off in preparation of the festival, and the mere mention of the ease of work lifted the spirits of all. When breakfast was over, the workers once more went into the fields, but their burden of work was lifted by the promised rest. Granted, the workers all knew that Iasho was not a hard master to serve, but they also knew that it would be nice to not have to spend all day in the sun as well.

Charis decided that she would join the workers in the field for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. Iasho’s earlier comment had convinced her that she needed to be with the people. Many of those working on the villa looked up to her since she was one of them. Like them, she had been rescued from Quehalost and brought into freedom. She had to learn a new language and a new lifestyle. She had to learn how to handle freedom and accountability. She had to learn how to cast off oppression forever. She knew what it was like to go through what the workers were learning.

Of course, Charis knew all of the workers by name. Those who were left on the villa had been to Ausaphaborishan’s Valley for the wedding. These were the ones who had returned after the celebration and began the process of replanting and rebuilding. It had been a harder summer than most, and Charis loved these workers all the more for it.

Charis stood at the edge of the field and looked as the workers spread out down the rows. She turned back to the house, but Semeion hadn’t joined her. He was more interested in the academics of rebuilding the villa. He wanted to oversee portions of the building process and help where he could. Charis turned back to the field and found the woman that she was looking for.

Charis walked across the dirt of the field. Earlier in the summer, she would have sunk into the rich soil. However, the sun and the footsteps of the many workers had since compressed the tilled soil into solid walking paths. The woman looked up to Charis as she approached. Although Charis had approached from the woman’s back, the woman was aware of her approach through the subtle vibrations in the soil. Soft soil would have disguised Charis’ approach, but the compacted dirt transferred small sensations to the woman’s fingers and legs as she knelt on the ground and worked with the plants.

Charis greeted the woman. “Tija, I’m glad I found you.”

The woman nodded and smiled brightly. Although her face was muddied from where Tija had used her dirty fingers to wipe sweat away, her teeth shined brightly in the sun. “And I am glad to see you safe and returned, Provenience.”

Charis winced at the title. Most of the workers on the villa had stopped using it in reference to her, but Tija refused to quit. Charis was grateful that Semeion had stayed near the house, because the use of the title didn’t make him happy. To someone born in Tongra or any of the other free lands, the title only reminded them of the cruel bondage of Quehalost. However, Charis knew that to Tija it was a means of constantly thanking Charis for coming back to free them. Charis nodded politely once she had recovered from the use of the name. “Tija, you are free now. You are learning how to live in a world where you make the decisions and you are accountable for your actions. You do not need to call me Provenience. I have no power over you.”

Tija turned back to the plant that she was working on. “I hear that you and your friends have once more stopped a power of Quehalost from taking control. You deserve honor.”

Charis blushed at the praise and knelt beside her. They were being listened to by many of the workers around them. She knew that these were the conversations that Iasho valued. The weeds that she pulled would be one thing, but they would eventually grow back. The values that Charis could teach to the villa workers would never fail. She thrust her index finger into the ground and lifted a weed out. “I seem to have forgotten a weed bag, Tija. May I use yours?”

Tija smiled. Charis always forgot a weed bag. It was almost as though she did it intentionally. “Certainly, Provenience.”

Charis dropped the weed into the burlap sack that Tija shifted to rest between them. “We vindicated the villa and were the voice of love and justice in Tongra. You are correct in that, Tija. But that does not make us heroes.”

Tija paused and looked to Charis. “There are some who say that a few days ago you helped to slay a demon and a powerful wizard. You also played a part in slaying our dragon father. You traveled to Tongra and returned to Quehalost for us. In fact, there are other people who say that you have since been to Quehalost to battle a dark druid. What about each of those events does not make you a hero?”

Charis plucked another weed from beneath around the base of a stalk of corn. “Great actions do not make a hero, Tija. Many people do many great things, but not many of them are heroes. In fact, you could say that I was merely doing my job.”

Tija smirked. “If that is your job, then I am grateful to have the simple job of plucking weeds from the ground.”

Charis waited until she caught Tija’s eyes and then smiled at her. “And that is why you are one of my heroes. I know what it is like to be freed from the grips of our dragon father. But so do you. I know how hard it is to make the transition from being a slave to being a freed servant. But so do you. You work to improve your life every day. The people around you do the same. You are learning every day. You do not give up regardless of the adversity.”

Tija looked back to the ground, not understanding. “But this is a gift to me and our people. How could we not embrace this new freedom?”

Charis also turned back to the ground, noting how quiet the fields had gotten. More and more were listening to what she had to say. “You are free, yet you stay loyal to what Iasho has to teach you. When the villa burned, you all knew that the summer would be hard. Yet none of you left. Every day you toil against the ground knowing that the ground is both your ally and your enemy. The very nutrients in the soil necessary for the crops also give birth to the weeds that want to choke out the crops of the fields. You labor hard and seldom complain against Iasho.”

Tija yanked hard at a weed and it broke at the surface level. The root was still buried in the dirt. “But, Iasho is good to us. He asks only that we labor and learn, and he treats us well. You all treat us well, Provenience.”

Charis laughed. “The situation is really irrelevant, Tija. In some ways, you are like the weed that just snapped off at the ground level. The weed can only be thankful for the good situation that it has been given to grow in. It has the choice to grow strong or weak. It chose to grow strong, and in so doing it planted its roots to make it able to resist being pulled out. It worked hard to give itself the best chance that it could to live.”

Tija’s hands closed around the root of the weed that was still in the ground. “But, it is just a weed.”

Charis smiled. “It is. But it is a weed that chose to work hard and make the best of what it was given. And if you were to leave the roots where they are, what would happen to it?”

Tija shrugged. “It would grow back, probably. And it would likely grow back stronger than before.”

Charis smiled broadly. She loved it when she was able to make the servants of the villa teach themselves. “That is precisely my point. Slaying a demon does not make me a hero. Playing my part in stopping cultists does not make me a hero, either. Refusing to buckle under adversity makes you a hero. Taking what life gives you and working hard to make the best of it makes you a hero. You could have given up and accepted the tragedy of the destruction of the villa. But none of you quit and none of you abandoned Iasho. You accepted the harder labor of the summer and have overcome your adversity. You think what we did was tough? We have labored for only a few days. You all that live here on the villa have labored every day without complaint. You have all worked hard to improve your condition but also out of concern for Iasho and the community that he helps support. That makes you a hero in my eyes.”

Tija yanked hard at the root that had snapped off earlier. The root came, but not before breaking off deeper in the ground. “I wanted to leave the root there, but it is my job.”

Charis laughed. “It was only an analogy, Tija. Pull the root. But realize that a person’s greatness is not measured by how awesome the high points of their life are. A person’s greatness is measured by what they do with their life. It isn’t how big they are, but how far reaching the effects of their goodness has on their life and the lives around them. A hero takes greatness and uses it to make the world around them better. They are concerned about the world around them more than themselves. Personally, I’d rather be friends with someone that I know will come and help me rebuild my villa than someone who makes a big deal about slaying demons and stopping cultists.”

Tija blushed at the compliment. “Then you too are a hero, Provenience.”

Charis paused for a moment and used her dirty right hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. With her hair removed, she could see Tija out of the corner of her eye. “Oh?”

Tija smiled and nodded. “You are a hero because you do not forget the workers of the field. You certainly deserve to be exalted, but you would rather praise us and teach us.” A sudden look of understanding passed over her face and she smiled as though she were pleased by her thought. “You are a hero to me, Provenience. Although you are given awesomely high points in your life, you would rather return and dwell in the normal valleys with the rest of the world.”

Charis blushed, and Tija continued to speak. “I understand that you do not want to be called a hero for slaying a demon or stopping cultists. But you will always be a hero in my eyes because you sacrifice your life for those around you. You didn’t have to come back for us, but you did. You brought us into freedom, and you still haven’t abandoned us. If I am a hero for not abandoning Iasho in his time of need, then you are a hero for not abandoning your people in their time of need. In fact, I think now more than ever you are deserving of the title Provenience.”

Charis smiled. Tija had gotten the point of her lesson. But, she had also gotten Tija’s point. “Then it will be our little secret. My title will be a reminder that you are a hero, too.”
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 18, 2007)

Ischarus and Rhema returned promptly and with Iasho’s help they prepared the chicken.  Ischarus removed the sand from above the roasting pit and smiled when the earth grew warmer as he dug.  “The ground is warm.  The oven is more than ready for the bounty that we’ve purchased.”  In a minute Ischarus had the warm oven unearthed, removed from the ground, and brushed free of sand.

Six hours later, after smoking underground on a low heat, the chicken had been roasted and it was pulled out of the ground.  The sun had already set and the evening chill was beginning to set in.  Some of the workers of the field had husked corn and prepared an old fashioned corn boil with peppers, onions, and potatoes as well.  The feast was ready, and Iasho stood before the food in order to give a proper speech welcoming his daughter and the rest of the party home.  “Family.”

He only got the one word out before he was interrupted.  There was a gasp in the crowd as two figures appeared near Iasho’s location.  Ischarus immediately drew his sword and jumped between Iasho and the figures.  Fortunately, Ischarus had never bothered to remove his sword from his afternoon excursion into Huetown.

The taller of the figures began to laugh as he pulled back his hood.  “Ischarus, there is no need for violence.  Put down your blade.”  The voice was Brandt’s, and the man next to him began to chuckle with Brandt.

Ischarus stowed his blade with a smile once he heard the familiar voice.  “There are ways to crash a party that don’t provoke armed responses, you know.  A more traditional approach, like walking up the path to the house, might be a bit less intense.”  There was amusement in Ischarus’ voice demonstrating that he was not particularly upset.

The man beside Brandt spoke as he too lowered his hood.  “You were right, Brandt.  Teleporting with our hoods up to conceal our identity was more fun.”  The voice was Master Searthu’s, and he was clearly enjoying the joke.  “Good thing Ischarus didn’t run you through, though.”

Ischarus nodded to Master Searthu.  “Good thing we have a policy against killing.”  He smiled brightly and the humorous tone in his voice was easy to notice.  “I wouldn’t recommend doing what you did to the Wizard’s College, though.”

Brandt motioned for Master Searthu to have a seat as he spoke. “No, indeed not.”  He turned to Iasho and bowed slightly.  “I believe, sir, that you were about to begin a discourse.  Forgive us for interrupting.  There apparently is a bit of a time lag in Master Searthu’s spying devices.”  He winked to Master Searthu as he sat beside him.

Iasho cleared his throat again and began to speak.  “Family, and honored friends.”  He nodded and bowed slightly to Brandt and Master Searthu.  “I was about to say that the last time we gathered together like this for a feast of this magnitude we were gathered among ruins.  We were a mourning people, set on rebuilding.  I know now that this statement would have been in error, but thanks to the appearance of Masters Brandt and Searthu it is now true.  We are now more complete than we were then.  Master Searthu has joined us in addition to Master Brandt, and all of my family of servants have come back to gather under the protective nature of this villa.  We are indeed more complete now than before.”

He paused a moment to look as many of his servants in the eye as possible.  For the time being, he avoided looking at the followers of Reah or the foursome.  “Look at what our community has done.  Together we have rebuilt what was stolen from us.  Together we have replanted and the earth has given its bounty in honor of our care of the ground.  Our community has protected the Confederacy of Tongra from invaders.  Our community has grown in spiritual matters as well.  Look at how far we have come as a community, and know that we could not have come this far alone.  Feast on this bounty, and learn what community means.  We support each other, always.”

Several of his servants began to clap in response.  They were quickly joined by Brandt and Master Searthu.  Rhema stood to reflect the speech back on her father as their leader, but Iasho knew her intentions and motioned for her to sit back down.  This was not his night; it was the entire villa’s night for glory.

Iasho stepped to the roasting oven and uncovered it.  He stepped behind the large pot that had been used for the corn boil and lifted a ladle.  His intent was clear to everyone.  He intended to serve them.  “Come and eat.  Take some chicken and I will give you a portion of potatoes, onion, peppers, and corn.”

Several of the servants rose, but the party motioned for Brandt and Master Searthu to go first.  Once the followers of Reah had gone first, the party allowed the servants to go before them.  It was a gesture of honor that didn’t go unnoticed.

Over dinner, most of the servants talked among themselves at various tables and seated throughout the villa’s lawn.  Masters Brandt and Searthu were joined by the party, who were eager to hear what the followers of Reah had found out about the fleeing Yrraxeans.  For the time being, however, the followers or Reah controled the flow of the discussion and they were being tight lipped about that particular piece of information.

Master Brandt spoke to Rhema while Iasho picked out his own chicken and joined them.  “The villa looks great, and construction should easily finish before the winter by the look of it.”

Rhema nodded and didn’t respond because she was too busy chewing a chunk of her own chicken.  Iasho handled the question as he sat down.  “It should be finished by then.  We’ve decided to rebuild the central house as it stood, but we’re hoping to take proper time and increase the servant housing.  We hope to give each of the servants a bit more space, but also to raise the number of servants that we can handle here at the villa.”

Ischarus chuckled.  “Iasho is concerned that we’re going to be defeating dragons with every trip into Quehalost.  He wants to be able to handle more people freed from the oppression.  After all, Ausaphaborishan, Llywessiar, or any of the Virtuous Dragons cannot be expected to always have room.”

Iasho spoke with much more seriousness than Ischarus.  “We must all be ready to do our part.”

Brandt nodded, honoring Iasho’s sentiment.  Master Searthu turned back to Iasho.  “Do you think the efforts of your villa will be so productive?”

Semeion thought about all of the trouble that they almost got into over the attempt to bring Charis’ clan through the mountains.  “While it would be nice, I can’t imagine being able to accomplish that feat every time.”

Iasho wouldn’t hear of it.  “But we must be prepared.  The villa can function with more training facilities and living space.  And if we are already in the rebuilding process, we might as well plan ahead.  After all, if we only rebuild what we had, we’ll have no room for growth.  If we rebuild bigger, then we at least give ourselves the opportunity to be more successful.”

Brandt was amused.  “I certainly can’t fault you for your optimism, sir.  And I also cannot fault you on your ability to provide a feast.  This food is simply excellent!”

Iasho smiled at the compliment.  “Ischarus makes an excellent spiced chicken.  And many of my servants here on the villa have become quite skilled at cooking for crowds.  It is quite simple to cook a delicious feast when you have so many skilled people around you.  It is a gift, really.  It is a gift each of our stomachs has come to appreciate!”

Brandt grinned as he stuck his fork through a chunk of potato.  It was clear that he had every intention of enjoying it.  Everyone at the table watched the joy on his face as he enjoyed the potato.

Rhema waited for Brandt to take the time to chew and she decided to change the topic.  She addressed the follower of Reah that she thought would mind being interrupted the least.  “Master Searthu, what is the news of Ophee?”

Master Searthu replied with an upbeat tone.  “She has stayed at the temple for training and a bit more deprogramming.  We think that her mind is free from the wizard’s influence, but she is not so convinced.  She wants to be sure.  And, she has taken to Reah.  In fact, she has taken to both Reah and Bemme.  We’ll be glad to keep her so long as she desires.  If she wants, she’ll soon be ready to be accepted into the ranks of the acolytes.  She’ll be older than most, but that will only mean that she’ll progress through the ranks more quickly on account of her maturity.”

Semeion accepted the response and decided to change the conversation even more.  Brandt appeared to still be enjoying his food, so Semeion continued to question Master Searthu.  “Master Searthu, have you heard anything from the king’s guard about the status of the fleeing Yrraxeans?”

Master Searthu shook his head.  “Soon enough, Semeion.  Have patience, and we’ll get you that information.”  His eyes shifted around the area, indicating that he was unwilling to speak about such sensitive matters while so many people were around.

Semeion nodded, accepting the delay.  Charis pushed the issue a bit more.  “Well, then.  Can we assume that the fact that both of you have come has something to do with it?  After all,” she continued with a hint of playfulness in her voice, “we are often blessed with Brandt’s presence at the villa but not so often blessed with yours.”

Master Searthu joined Brandt at smiling in response to the comment.  “Charis, you’ll get the answer to that question after you get the answer to Semeion’s question.  For now, let me simply assert that the two are related, but not necessarily completely related.”  Master Searthu finished his comment with a wink in Charis’ direction.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Ischarus and Rhema returned promptly and with Iasho’s help they prepared the chicken. Ischarus removed the sand from above the roasting pit and smiled when the earth grew warmer as he dug. “The ground is warm. The oven is more than ready for the bounty that we’ve purchased.” In a minute Ischarus had the warm oven unearthed, removed from the ground, and brushed free of sand.

Six hours later, after smoking underground on a low heat, the chicken had been roasted and it was pulled out of the ground. The sun had already set and the evening chill was beginning to set in. Some of the workers of the field had husked corn and prepared an old fashioned corn boil with peppers, onions, and potatoes as well. The feast was ready, and Iasho stood before the food in order to give a proper speech welcoming his daughter and the rest of the party home. “Family.”

He only got the one word out before he was interrupted. There was a gasp in the crowd as two figures appeared near Iasho’s location. Ischarus immediately drew his sword and jumped between Iasho and the figures. Fortunately, Ischarus had never bothered to remove his sword from his afternoon excursion into Huetown.

The taller of the figures began to laugh as he pulled back his hood. “Ischarus, there is no need for violence. Put down your blade.” The voice was Brandt’s, and the man next to him began to chuckle with Brandt.

Ischarus stowed his blade with a smile once he heard the familiar voice. “There are ways to crash a party that don’t provoke armed responses, you know. A more traditional approach, like walking up the path to the house, might be a bit less intense.” There was amusement in Ischarus’ voice demonstrating that he was not particularly upset.

The man beside Brandt spoke as he too lowered his hood. “You were right, Brandt. Teleporting with our hoods up to conceal our identity was more fun.” The voice was Master Searthu’s, and he was clearly enjoying the joke. “Good thing Ischarus didn’t run you through, though.”

Ischarus nodded to Master Searthu. “Good thing we have a policy against killing.” He smiled brightly and the humorous tone in his voice was easy to notice. “I wouldn’t recommend doing what you did to the Wizard’s College, though.”

Brandt motioned for Master Searthu to have a seat as he spoke. “No, indeed not.” He turned to Iasho and bowed slightly. “I believe, sir, that you were about to begin a discourse. Forgive us for interrupting. There apparently is a bit of a time lag in Master Searthu’s spying devices.” He winked to Master Searthu as he sat beside him.

Iasho cleared his throat again and began to speak. “Family, and honored friends.” He nodded and bowed slightly to Brandt and Master Searthu. “I was about to say that the last time we gathered together like this for a feast of this magnitude we were gathered among ruins. We were a mourning people, set on rebuilding. I know now that this statement would have been in error, but thanks to the appearance of Masters Brandt and Searthu it is now true. We are now more complete than we were then. Master Searthu has joined us in addition to Master Brandt, and all of my family of servants have come back to gather under the protective nature of this villa. We are indeed more complete now than before.”

He paused a moment to look as many of his servants in the eye as possible. For the time being, he avoided looking at the followers of Reah or the foursome. “Look at what our community has done. Together we have rebuilt what was stolen from us. Together we have replanted and the earth has given its bounty in honor of our care of the ground. Our community has protected the Confederacy of Tongra from invaders. Our community has grown in spiritual matters as well. Look at how far we have come as a community, and know that we could not have come this far alone. Feast on this bounty, and learn what community means. We support each other, always.”

Several of his servants began to clap in response. They were quickly joined by Brandt and Master Searthu. Rhema stood to reflect the speech back on her father as their leader, but Iasho knew her intentions and motioned for her to sit back down. This was not his night; it was the entire villa’s night for glory.

Iasho stepped to the roasting oven and uncovered it. He stepped behind the large pot that had been used for the corn boil and lifted a ladle. His intent was clear to everyone. He intended to serve them. “Come and eat. Take some chicken and I will give you a portion of potatoes, onion, peppers, and corn.”

Several of the servants rose, but the party motioned for Brandt and Master Searthu to go first. Once the followers of Reah had gone first, the party allowed the servants to go before them. It was a gesture of honor that didn’t go unnoticed.

Over dinner, most of the servants talked among themselves at various tables and seated throughout the villa’s lawn. Masters Brandt and Searthu were joined by the party, who were eager to hear what the followers of Reah had found out about the fleeing Yrraxeans. For the time being, however, the followers or Reah controled the flow of the discussion and they were being tight lipped about that particular piece of information.

Master Brandt spoke to Rhema while Iasho picked out his own chicken and joined them. “The villa looks great, and construction should easily finish before the winter by the look of it.”

Rhema nodded and didn’t respond because she was too busy chewing a chunk of her own chicken. Iasho handled the question as he sat down. “It should be finished by then. We’ve decided to rebuild the central house as it stood, but we’re hoping to take proper time and increase the servant housing. We hope to give each of the servants a bit more space, but also to raise the number of servants that we can handle here at the villa.”

Ischarus chuckled. “Iasho is concerned that we’re going to be defeating dragons with every trip into Quehalost. He wants to be able to handle more people freed from the oppression. After all, Ausaphaborishan, Llywessiar, or any of the Virtuous Dragons cannot be expected to always have room.”

Iasho spoke with much more seriousness than Ischarus. “We must all be ready to do our part.”

Brandt nodded, honoring Iasho’s sentiment. Master Searthu turned back to Iasho. “Do you think the efforts of your villa will be so productive?”

Semeion thought about all of the trouble that they almost got into over the attempt to bring Charis’ clan through the mountains. “While it would be nice, I can’t imagine being able to accomplish that feat every time.”

Iasho wouldn’t hear of it. “But we must be prepared. The villa can function with more training facilities and living space. And if we are already in the rebuilding process, we might as well plan ahead. After all, if we only rebuild what we had, we’ll have no room for growth. If we rebuild bigger, then we at least give ourselves the opportunity to be more successful.”

Brandt was amused. “I certainly can’t fault you for your optimism, sir. And I also cannot fault you on your ability to provide a feast. This food is simply excellent!”

Iasho smiled at the compliment. “Ischarus makes an excellent spiced chicken. And many of my servants here on the villa have become quite skilled at cooking for crowds. It is quite simple to cook a delicious feast when you have so many skilled people around you. It is a gift, really. It is a gift each of our stomachs has come to appreciate!”

Brandt grinned as he stuck his fork through a chunk of potato. It was clear that he had every intention of enjoying it. Everyone at the table watched the joy on his face as he enjoyed the potato.

Rhema waited for Brandt to take the time to chew and she decided to change the topic. She addressed the follower of Reah that she thought would mind being interrupted the least. “Master Searthu, what is the news of Ophee?”

Master Searthu replied with an upbeat tone. “She has stayed at the temple for training and a bit more deprogramming. We think that her mind is free from the wizard’s influence, but she is not so convinced. She wants to be sure. And, she has taken to Reah. In fact, she has taken to both Reah and Bemme. We’ll be glad to keep her so long as she desires. If she wants, she’ll soon be ready to be accepted into the ranks of the acolytes. She’ll be older than most, but that will only mean that she’ll progress through the ranks more quickly on account of her maturity.”

Semeion accepted the response and decided to change the conversation even more. Brandt appeared to still be enjoying his food, so Semeion continued to question Master Searthu. “Master Searthu, have you heard anything from the king’s guard about the status of the fleeing Yrraxeans?”

Master Searthu shook his head. “Soon enough, Semeion. Have patience, and we’ll get you that information.” His eyes shifted around the area, indicating that he was unwilling to speak about such sensitive matters while so many people were around.

Semeion nodded, accepting the delay. Charis pushed the issue a bit more. “Well, then. Can we assume that the fact that both of you have come has something to do with it? After all,” she continued with a hint of playfulness in her voice, “we are often blessed with Brandt’s presence at the villa but not so often blessed with yours.”

Master Searthu joined Brandt at smiling in response to the comment. “Charis, you’ll get the answer to that question after you get the answer to Semeion’s question. For now, let me simply assert that the two are related, but not necessarily completely related.” Master Searthu finished his comment with a wink in Charis’ direction.
[/Sblock]


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## Nonlethal Force (Sep 19, 2007)

The conversation continued for some time, and eventually a fire was built to keep away much of the evening chill.  Brandt and Master Searthu showed considerable patience as the evening passed on.  They were waiting for a proper time to address the party regarding the news of the Yrraxeans.  A few hours after the meal, many of the servants excused themselves and headed to their quarters to rest.  They were grateful for the relaxing day and evening, but they also knew that their day of rest would need to be made up for the next day.  Many offered words of appreciation to Iasho before leaving the festivities and turning in for the night.

When most of the people had departed, Brandt leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.  “Now, I believe that there was the question of the Yrraxeans?”  He smiled, knowing that he was finally giving the party what they wanted.

Each of the party members smiled and leaned forward, showing obvious interest in the change of direction for the conversation.  Brandt continued explaining the situation.  “We were able to find several of the Yrraxean ships out on the open water.  By the time we were able to locate them through a magical means, however, they had already sailed beyond the coastal waters of Tongra.”

Ischarus frowned.  “South, no doubt?”

Brandt nodded.  “Of course.  Even sailing to Fenneress they would choose to head south first.”

Charis turned to Semeion and whispered to him.  She didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the conversation.  “Why is south the obvious direction of sailing?  Aren’t the winds predominantly from the west?”

Semeion nodded, but it was Master Searthu who answered the question with a smile.  “Heading west would give them the fastest escape from Tongra, of course. The winds would carry them away quite fast.  However, sailing west from Tongra leads them directly into the coastal waters of Barghost.  If they thought Tongra gave them a poor welcome then they’d be surely disappointed by the official reaction in Barghost.  The worship of Yrraxea would bring a fierce and swift reaction.  They wouldn’t want to risk being caught in the territory of Barghost.  And they would know that Barghost would willingly respond to a summons for help by King Rupert.”

Charis nodded.  “And, heading south takes them around Quehalost.  There aren’t any ports along the mountainous shoreline, but there won’t likely be pursuit coming ahead of them, either.”

Brandt nodded.  “Well, not unless we can work something out with the nation of Fenneress, anyway.  But they’ll be safe for a while and they’ll know that.”

Ischarus turned back to Brandt.  “The king’s ships cannot catch them?”

Brandt shook his head.  “It is unlikely.  If we would have been able to locate them quickly they might have had a chance.  But it took too long.  Once we were able to find them we noticed that they had paid well for their passage.  The ships that they bought passage upon were fast.  The only hope we would have is if a storm would come and force them to anchor.  And any storm coming along would hamper our efforts as well.”

Rhema agreed with Brandt’s sentiment.  “Yeah.  The only other thing that we could hope for is a dead calm.  But again, that would be just as bad for the pursuit as for the Yrraxeans.”

Master Searthu nodded and continued the discussion.  “Exactly.  There was no simple way to catch them.  Plus, when you consider that a few of them on board must wield some pretty strong magic it might not even be safe to send the king’s men after them.  Who knows what power Yrraxea may give to them to enable them to escape?”

Semeion question the logic regarding magical offense.  “You’re not trying to tell me that the king doesn’t have the kind of resources to counter any magic that could come out of Quehalost, surely?  I mean, we’ve been able to best the Yrraxeans, even Ankh Bahl.”

Brandt agreed with the premise, but had problems with the implication of Semeion’s conclusion.  “Well, I think it would have been a different story had the Yrraxeans tried to flee by way of the land.  But magic over the water becomes completely more unreliable.  The boat is capable of being attacked and horrible creatures can be summoned from the depths of the sea.  But what is truly worse is that is that the defense of the boat would have to be the primary focus of the king’s magicians.  For if in the midst of an offensive flurry they let go of their defense, then they are suddenly sunk without the hope of friendly land to which they can try and make it.  Sure, the magicians could save themselves, but in a battle over water they have to be concerned with the crew as well.  Magical battles over the water are quite deadly.  On land, the removal of the possibility of sinking really does simplify things quite a bit.”

Semeion nodded, accepting the answer.  He didn’t really agree with it, but he also had very little experience on the water.  “So, at this point we are just handing things over to the government of Fenneress?”

Brandt shrugged and nodded.  “What else can we do?  We can’t catch them, and when they do make land they’ll be in a different country.  The people of Fenneress are like the people of Tongra.  There’ll not be many there that give them quarter.  But, they must have some means arranged because they left here with intent to make it to Fenneress and go into Quehalost from there.”

Rhema looked puzzled.  “The one thing about all of this that I don’t quite get is why they simply didn’t teleport to Quehalost directly.  I mean, if many of the powerful agents of Yrraxea were from Quehalost to begin with, they shouldn’t have too much difficulty returning, right?”

Master Searthu responded.  “Certainly.  The magic should have been reliable.  The only real question is whether or not the leaders would be powerful enough to move all of the people that needed to be moved.  This plan has been in the works for a long time, apparently.  They may have made a number of converts.  If this is true, the leaders might have teleported and the followers may be on the boats.”

Semeion returned to the question of magic.  “If that’s the case, then the ships might not be hard to capture with magical means.”

Brandt replied to Semeion’s assertion.  “True.  But we don’t know that is the case.  If they have access to teleportation the leaders might not be on the boats.  But for all we know Pahk and the wizard in Eberdeen may have been their only access to teleportation magic.  With them removed, their ability to teleport might have been crippled.  After all, you did have to board the ship that the Yrraxeans sent to influence Fingerdale had used.  They didn’t use teleportation magic to get here, apparently.  We just don’t know.”

Master Searthu continued Brandt’s point for him.  “In either case, the simple solution is to just be patient and hand the matter over to the authorities of Fenneress.  They can bring the ships into custody as they approach the land.  It is the solution that puts the fewest people at risk and has the highest chance of success.  That is why the king opted to allow the problem to transfer under the authority of the Alliance of Fenneress.  We’ll offer to assist, of course.”

Charis looked into the fire.  “So that’s it, then?  We just sit back and watch evil sail into the sunset?  We have to be pleased with what we’ve accomplished but forced to accept that they got away?”

Brandt nodded.  “Not quite.  Even if we’d have managed to catch them off guard and trap them here in Tongra, the evil of Yrraxea would still exist in Quehalost.  Ankh Bahl would still be looking for a way to return and avenge her banishment.  The only real and true victory is to eradicate Yrraxea’s influence on the world.”

Ischarus and Brandt shared a hearty laugh.  Ischarus drew Brandt’s assertion to the illogical conclusion that Brandt’s words led them to understand.  “Yeah.  Eradicate the influence of avarice on the world?  There is nothing like trying to separate the people in this land from their greed and desire for personal gain.”

Master Searthu shrugged and joined the answer in his own words.  “That’s pretty much it.  So long as avarice is a goal of some, Yrraxea will always have a foothold in the land – even the civilized lands of Tongra and Fenneress.  Granted, her foothold will always be strongest in Quehalost where there are no laws or ethical standards which govern her influence.”

Charis frowned.  “Well, if that isn’t enough to deflate the celebratory end of a hard struggle, then I don’t know what is.  We’ve won, but only temporarily.  The land is safe, for now.”

Rhema leaned over and put her hand on the back of Charis’ hand.  “That’s all it ever is, isn’t it?  We do what we can, but we’re only mortal.  We can’t change the fundamental shape of the world and the powers at work in it.  We can only choose which side with which we want to fight and how hard we want to fight with that particular side.  We can affect the here and now.  If we’re lucky, we can make an impression that lasts into the future.  But the likelihood of causing Yrraxea to lose complete influence over the land is unlikely.  People will continue to seek after their own personal gain – many of them at the expense of others.  For now, we work with what we can and do what we can.  We influence what we can, and be thankful for the changes and safety that we can provide.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The conversation continued for some time, and eventually a fire was built to keep away much of the evening chill. Brandt and Master Searthu showed considerable patience as the evening passed on. They were waiting for a proper time to address the party regarding the news of the Yrraxeans. A few hours after the meal, many of the servants excused themselves and headed to their quarters to rest. They were grateful for the relaxing day and evening, but they also knew that their day of rest would need to be made up for the next day. Many offered words of appreciation to Iasho before leaving the festivities and turning in for the night.

When most of the people had departed, Brandt leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Now, I believe that there was the question of the Yrraxeans?” He smiled, knowing that he was finally giving the party what they wanted.

Each of the party members smiled and leaned forward, showing obvious interest in the change of direction for the conversation. Brandt continued explaining the situation. “We were able to find several of the Yrraxean ships out on the open water. By the time we were able to locate them through a magical means, however, they had already sailed beyond the coastal waters of Tongra.”

Ischarus frowned. “South, no doubt?”

Brandt nodded. “Of course. Even sailing to Fenneress they would choose to head south first.”

Charis turned to Semeion and whispered to him. She didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the conversation. “Why is south the obvious direction of sailing? Aren’t the winds predominantly from the west?”

Semeion nodded, but it was Master Searthu who answered the question with a smile. “Heading west would give them the fastest escape from Tongra, of course. The winds would carry them away quite fast. However, sailing west from Tongra leads them directly into the coastal waters of Barghost. If they thought Tongra gave them a poor welcome then they’d be surely disappointed by the official reaction in Barghost. The worship of Yrraxea would bring a fierce and swift reaction. They wouldn’t want to risk being caught in the territory of Barghost. And they would know that Barghost would willingly respond to a summons for help by King Rupert.”

Charis nodded. “And, heading south takes them around Quehalost. There aren’t any ports along the mountainous shoreline, but there won’t likely be pursuit coming ahead of them, either.”

Brandt nodded. “Well, not unless we can work something out with the nation of Fenneress, anyway. But they’ll be safe for a while and they’ll know that.”

Ischarus turned back to Brandt. “The king’s ships cannot catch them?”

Brandt shook his head. “It is unlikely. If we would have been able to locate them quickly they might have had a chance. But it took too long. Once we were able to find them we noticed that they had paid well for their passage. The ships that they bought passage upon were fast. The only hope we would have is if a storm would come and force them to anchor. And any storm coming along would hamper our efforts as well.”

Rhema agreed with Brandt’s sentiment. “Yeah. The only other thing that we could hope for is a dead calm. But again, that would be just as bad for the pursuit as for the Yrraxeans.”

Master Searthu nodded and continued the discussion. “Exactly. There was no simple way to catch them. Plus, when you consider that a few of them on board must wield some pretty strong magic it might not even be safe to send the king’s men after them. Who knows what power Yrraxea may give to them to enable them to escape?”

Semeion question the logic regarding magical offense. “You’re not trying to tell me that the king doesn’t have the kind of resources to counter any magic that could come out of Quehalost, surely? I mean, we’ve been able to best the Yrraxeans, even Ankh Bahl.”

Brandt agreed with the premise, but had problems with the implication of Semeion’s conclusion. “Well, I think it would have been a different story had the Yrraxeans tried to flee by way of the land. But magic over the water becomes completely more unreliable. The boat is capable of being attacked and horrible creatures can be summoned from the depths of the sea. But what is truly worse is that is that the defense of the boat would have to be the primary focus of the king’s magicians. For if in the midst of an offensive flurry they let go of their defense, then they are suddenly sunk without the hope of friendly land to which they can try and make it. Sure, the magicians could save themselves, but in a battle over water they have to be concerned with the crew as well. Magical battles over the water are quite deadly. On land, the removal of the possibility of sinking really does simplify things quite a bit.”

Semeion nodded, accepting the answer. He didn’t really agree with it, but he also had very little experience on the water. “So, at this point we are just handing things over to the government of Fenneress?”

Brandt shrugged and nodded. “What else can we do? We can’t catch them, and when they do make land they’ll be in a different country. The people of Fenneress are like the people of Tongra. There’ll not be many there that give them quarter. But, they must have some means arranged because they left here with intent to make it to Fenneress and go into Quehalost from there.”

Rhema looked puzzled. “The one thing about all of this that I don’t quite get is why they simply didn’t teleport to Quehalost directly. I mean, if many of the powerful agents of Yrraxea were from Quehalost to begin with, they shouldn’t have too much difficulty returning, right?”

Master Searthu responded. “Certainly. The magic should have been reliable. The only real question is whether or not the leaders would be powerful enough to move all of the people that needed to be moved. This plan has been in the works for a long time, apparently. They may have made a number of converts. If this is true, the leaders might have teleported and the followers may be on the boats.”

Semeion returned to the question of magic. “If that’s the case, then the ships might not be hard to capture with magical means.”

Brandt replied to Semeion’s assertion. “True. But we don’t know that is the case. If they have access to teleportation the leaders might not be on the boats. But for all we know Pahk and the wizard in Eberdeen may have been their only access to teleportation magic. With them removed, their ability to teleport might have been crippled. After all, you did have to board the ship that the Yrraxeans sent to influence Fingerdale had used. They didn’t use teleportation magic to get here, apparently. We just don’t know.”

Master Searthu continued Brandt’s point for him. “In either case, the simple solution is to just be patient and hand the matter over to the authorities of Fenneress. They can bring the ships into custody as they approach the land. It is the solution that puts the fewest people at risk and has the highest chance of success. That is why the king opted to allow the problem to transfer under the authority of the Alliance of Fenneress. We’ll offer to assist, of course.”

Charis looked into the fire. “So that’s it, then? We just sit back and watch evil sail into the sunset? We have to be pleased with what we’ve accomplished but forced to accept that they got away?”

Brandt nodded. “Not quite. Even if we’d have managed to catch them off guard and trap them here in Tongra, the evil of Yrraxea would still exist in Quehalost. Ankh Bahl would still be looking for a way to return and avenge her banishment. The only real and true victory is to eradicate Yrraxea’s influence on the world.”

Ischarus and Brandt shared a hearty laugh. Ischarus drew Brandt’s assertion to the illogical conclusion that Brandt’s words led them to understand. “Yeah. Eradicate the influence of avarice on the world? There is nothing like trying to separate the people in this land from their greed and desire for personal gain.”

Master Searthu shrugged and joined the answer in his own words. “That’s pretty much it. So long as avarice is a goal of some, Yrraxea will always have a foothold in the land – even the civilized lands of Tongra and Fenneress. Granted, her foothold will always be strongest in Quehalost where there are no laws or ethical standards which govern her influence.”

Charis frowned. “Well, if that isn’t enough to deflate the celebratory end of a hard struggle, then I don’t know what is. We’ve won, but only temporarily. The land is safe, for now.”

Rhema leaned over and put her hand on the back of Charis’ hand. “That’s all it ever is, isn’t it? We do what we can, but we’re only mortal. We can’t change the fundamental shape of the world and the powers at work in it. We can only choose which side with which we want to fight and how hard we want to fight with that particular side. We can affect the here and now. If we’re lucky, we can make an impression that lasts into the future. But the likelihood of causing Yrraxea to lose complete influence over the land is unlikely. People will continue to seek after their own personal gain – many of them at the expense of others. For now, we work with what we can and do what we can. We influence what we can, and be thankful for the changes and safety that we can provide.”
[/Sblock]


----------



## Nonlethal Force (Sep 19, 2007)

Master Searthu leaned forward and lowered his voice.  “I’m glad you feel that way, Rhema.  Now that you have the answer to your first question, I think that it is time to give you an answer to the other big question of the night.”  He smiled and leaned back.

The party exchanged puzzled looks.  By this time in the night, they had forgotten about Charis’ question relating to the presence of Master Searthu.  When they glanced back to Master Searthu, they only received a face that was seemingly enjoying the confusion of his cryptic comment.

Master Searthu continued.  “Have I become so commonplace over the course of this evening that you are no longer curious as to why both Brandt and I were required to attend to pass along the rather mundane information regarding the Yrraxeans?”

Each of the party members grinned and sat back in their chairs.  Semeion began to chuckle.  “Oh.  I remember now.  Charis asked why you were here and if your presence was related to the Yrraxean threat.”

Master Searthu couldn’t help but yawn.  It had been a long day of taxing magic, and the cool night by the warm fire was beginning to make him tired.  “Exactly.  And if you remember, I offered up the answer that my presence did have something to do with the Yrraxeans, but it was not completely tied to them.”

The party and Iasho agreed with Master Searthu’s recollection.  Brandt continued the conversation.  “We have a proposition for you, but before we give it to you we must ask for permission.  The permission is going to sound rather strange, but this is where you’ll need to trust us.  If you five do not think that you can trust us, then you need to be honest right now and we’ll return to Fingerdale.”

Iasho and Rhema exchanged confused glances while Semeion answered Brandt’s challenge.  “Trust?  How can we answer that question until we know what you are asking?”

Charis joined her husband in his words.  “Seriously.  I mean, you both have never failed us before.  But at the same time we cannot make any agreements until we know what we are getting ourselves into.  If nothing else, I think that was a lesson that we were supposed to have learned from our trouble with the wizard in Eberdeen.  I think you told us yourself that we shouldn’t make an agreement until we understand the ramifications of the agreement.  So spill the beans, and then we’ll tell you what we think.”

Brandt chuckled at Charis’ assertive nature.  “Well, it’s never good to hear your words turned around on you, but I suppose it does demonstrate that you have learned from your situation.  So I’ll tell you half of it.  And if you all can meet me halfway then we’ll talk.”

Each of the party shrugged and nodded, acknowledging that they were ready to listen.  Brandt paused for a moment before continuing.  “I’ll need permission from each of you ahead of time before we go further.  What we need permission to do is to erase this conversation from your minds should you not find it agreeable.  And, that is where the trust comes into play.  We have an interesting conversation ahead of us, but it is a conversation of the utmost secrecy.  Should you be agreeable, there will be nothing done to any of you.  Should you decline upon hearing what we have to say, then we will erase the knowledge of the conversation from your mind.  Only that information will be erased.  You’ll have to trust us on that regard.”

A tone of seriousness had fallen across the party, Iasho, and the two followers of Reah.  Suddenly, Brandt and Master Searthu were talking about the realm of mind control.  The fire crackled in silence for nearly a minute as each person was lost in their own thoughts.

It was Rhema who spoke first.  “I know mind control, and I understand its effectiveness.  But, I also know that I can trust myself.  What can we do to guarantee that trust is held on both sides?”

Master Searthu inhaled deeply before answering.  “Since you understand mind control, what if I allowed you to remain alert while the rest of the minds were blanked.  Once they were safely through the process and you are satisfied, then I’ll work the process on you with your friends to oversee it.  Is that acceptable?”

Brandt smiled and leaned forward.  “Remember, we are agents of Reah and agents of justice.  We will keep our word.  And the memory blanking would only be necessary if you five are not approving of what we have to offer.  Our offer is tempting enough that we hope you are agreeable, but we must have your word that if you are not agreeable then we can remove any knowledge that you will gain through our offer.”

Semeion looked deeply in Brandt’s eyes.  Brandt had become a mentor to him in matters arcane.  Up until this very moment, Semeion had never doubted the follower of Reah.  Now he found a slight doubt creeping into his mind.

Rhema chased the doubt away from Semeion’s mind.  “I’m agreeable to that.  I’m willing to listen and be the party’s advocate if we are not in agreement.  Once they are through the procedure, then I’ll willingly submit myself.”

Rhema’s confidence was enough to stimulate the rest of the group out of their contemplation.  One by one, they each agreed to Brandt’s proposal.  So long as they wouldn’t undergo the procedure alone, it seemed worth the risk.

Master Searthu leaned back once the party and Iasho had agreed to the proposal.  “Master Brandt was not entirely forthcoming earlier.”

Semeion grinned, fighting off the desire to worry.  “This is not beginning well for a pair of people who just asked to be trusted.”

Brandt held out a hand and smiled.  “Patience, Semeion.  Master Searthu will explain what he means.”

Master Searthu continued his speech.  “Yes.  You see, Master Brandt and I are followers of Reah first and foremost.  But we are also members of an organization called the Eiss Nukti.”

Iasho spoke in shock.  “But, that organization is a fairy tale told by the oppressed to bring hope to their situation!”

Brandt grinned.  “Yes, and there are no doubt people in Quehalost who thought that you all were a simple fairy tale as well.  But, you proved them to be wrong by freeing a whole tribe of oppressed people.  We are legendary.  We are absolutely impossible to discover.  But we are more real than fairy tales.”

Master Searthu continued, amused by Brandt’s descriptions of the organization.  “We exist only within other organizations.  We are a secret police, unknown even to the authorities of the land.  We have agents in all of the civilized lands.  As you no doubt have guessed, we are both personally assigned to watch over the area of Fingerdale and report any interesting findings to the Eiss Nukti commanders.”

Charis raised her left eyebrow as a question formed in her mind.  “So your place in the Temple of Reah is only a disguise?”

Rhema was struck by the question.  She looked at Master Searthu, suddenly much more interested in his answer.  “Yeah.  Your position is a cover?”

Brandt spoke harshly.  “No.  Our faith is most certainly real, and it would never be compromised by the Eiss Nukti.  In truth, Master Searthu was the one who invited me to join with him in service to the Eiss Nukti.  I was a member of the Temple of Reah far before I joined the Eiss Nukti.  The Eiss Nukti is merely an additional tool that I have at my disposal for the fighting of evil.  And believe me when I tell you that it is not the other way around.  I serve Reah first, and the Eiss Nukti helps me to that very end.”

Master Searthu was pleased with Brandt’s answer and he continued the explanation.  “The Eiss Nukti are primarily known for providing aide spontaneously and without being asked. Help is often only received when an Eiss Nukti member perceives a need and acts upon it out of a feeling of charity or compulsion to fight against evil.  Many in the order are highly religious and worship any of the charitable gods, although being religious is certainly not a prerequisite.  What is a prerequisite is the desire to fight against evil.”

Master Searthu could tell that he had caught the party’s attention and that Rhema had been satisfied with Brandt’s earlier answer.  “Of course, because you are being told about the Eiss Nukti implies that you are being invited to join.  We have a need that you all are capable of fulfilling.  Actually, if I can be honest I should add that you all brought your ability to meet our need yourself.  Some of our members have expressed interest in entering Quehalost and taking the fight against evil to them.  Many have tried, and a few have succeeded.  But we are always looking to add loyal soldiers to our ranks.”

Ischarus frowned.  “We already go into Quehalost.  What do you offer beyond that?”

Master Searthu nodded, deferring to Brandt.  Brandt smiled politely and spoke.  “Besides our support?  You have already benefited from the support of the Eiss Nukti.  Normally, the Temple of Reah would not be so interested in helping a group of adventurers jump across the land.  Most of the assistance that you received was because we were impressed by your quests and wished to hone your skills as agents of charity and justice.  I promise that our assistance was given freely, but that is what the Eiss Nukti is all about.  We do not ask much of our members other than they fight evil and oppression – as well as be willing to lean on each other for support.  These are things that you all do very well already.”

Ischarus smiled and squeezed the hand of his wife.  “Yes, we do.  Thanks for the compliment, for what it’s worth.  But if you all exist within another organization, how would we fit in?  What would be our role?”

Brandt smiled.  “In my dealings with King Rupert, I have become aware of the fact that he was impressed by your efforts the other day.  There is an organization called the Contra Vili, which is a sub-group of the king’s army.  They are special agents within the army.  They are paid to patrol the Quehalost-Tongra border.  At my suggestion, King Rupert has shown interest in adding your skills to his ranks.  You would be free to make any excursions that you desire.  The king’s arsenal would be at your disposal within reason, of course.  And, the king is willing to pay you through very official channels.  If nothing else, I do believe that the pay would help defray the costs of operating in Lord Ironblood’s region?”

Iasho nodded.  “The money would be helpful, as would being tied to King Rupert through very official channels.  But I won’t tell my daughter and her associates where to place her allegiance.”

Semeion asked a very important question.  “And, we will be at the king’s disposal as he beckons?”

Brandt nodded.  “Agents of the Contra Vili are under no specific orders except to patrol the border and make excursions into Quehalost as needed.  The only time that those orders are lifted is in the time of invasion.  With Barghost to our east, invasion is likely to only come from one direction.  That direction will be Quehalost, and you’ll already be in service through that area.  It is unlikely that you’ll be called anywhere else at any time during your service.  Very little will change for you and your missions, you will be better compensated for your efforts, and in exchange you will provide a service to the Eiss Nukti as experienced agents into a land that is notoriously rough.”

The party and the followers of Reah exchanged several more rounds of questions before Ischarus leaned forward and looked his wife, Charis, and Semeion each in the eye.  “Well, these gentlemen have come for an answer.  I suppose it is time we should give them one.”

Semeion turned to Charis and then looked back to Ischarus.  “Well, it does sound like an interesting proposition.”  He leaned back in his chair and smiled.

THE END​
[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Master Searthu leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’m glad you feel that way, Rhema. Now that you have the answer to your first question, I think that it is time to give you an answer to the other big question of the night.” He smiled and leaned back.

The party exchanged puzzled looks. By this time in the night, they had forgotten about Charis’ question relating to the presence of Master Searthu. When they glanced back to Master Searthu, they only received a face that was seemingly enjoying the confusion of his cryptic comment.

Master Searthu continued. “Have I become so commonplace over the course of this evening that you are no longer curious as to why both Brandt and I were required to attend to pass along the rather mundane information regarding the Yrraxeans?”

Each of the party members grinned and sat back in their chairs. Semeion began to chuckle. “Oh. I remember now. Charis asked why you were here and if your presence was related to the Yrraxean threat.”

Master Searthu couldn’t help but yawn. It had been a long day of taxing magic, and the cool night by the warm fire was beginning to make him tired. “Exactly. And if you remember, I offered up the answer that my presence did have something to do with the Yrraxeans, but it was not completely tied to them.”

The party and Iasho agreed with Master Searthu’s recollection. Brandt continued the conversation. “We have a proposition for you, but before we give it to you we must ask for permission. The permission is going to sound rather strange, but this is where you’ll need to trust us. If you five do not think that you can trust us, then you need to be honest right now and we’ll return to Fingerdale.”

Iasho and Rhema exchanged confused glances while Semeion answered Brandt’s challenge. “Trust? How can we answer that question until we know what you are asking?”

Charis joined her husband in his words. “Seriously. I mean, you both have never failed us before. But at the same time we cannot make any agreements until we know what we are getting ourselves into. If nothing else, I think that was a lesson that we were supposed to have learned from our trouble with the wizard in Eberdeen. I think you told us yourself that we shouldn’t make an agreement until we understand the ramifications of the agreement. So spill the beans, and then we’ll tell you what we think.”

Brandt chuckled at Charis’ assertive nature. “Well, it’s never good to hear your words turned around on you, but I suppose it does demonstrate that you have learned from your situation. So I’ll tell you half of it. And if you all can meet me halfway then we’ll talk.”

Each of the party shrugged and nodded, acknowledging that they were ready to listen. Brandt paused for a moment before continuing. “I’ll need permission from each of you ahead of time before we go further. What we need permission to do is to erase this conversation from your minds should you not find it agreeable. And, that is where the trust comes into play. We have an interesting conversation ahead of us, but it is a conversation of the utmost secrecy. Should you be agreeable, there will be nothing done to any of you. Should you decline upon hearing what we have to say, then we will erase the knowledge of the conversation from your mind. Only that information will be erased. You’ll have to trust us on that regard.”

A tone of seriousness had fallen across the party, Iasho, and the two followers of Reah. Suddenly, Brandt and Master Searthu were talking about the realm of mind control. The fire crackled in silence for nearly a minute as each person was lost in their own thoughts.

It was Rhema who spoke first. “I know mind control, and I understand its effectiveness. But, I also know that I can trust myself. What can we do to guarantee that trust is held on both sides?”

Master Searthu inhaled deeply before answering. “Since you understand mind control, what if I allowed you to remain alert while the rest of the minds were blanked. Once they were safely through the process and you are satisfied, then I’ll work the process on you with your friends to oversee it. Is that acceptable?”

Brandt smiled and leaned forward. “Remember, we are agents of Reah and agents of justice. We will keep our word. And the memory blanking would only be necessary if you five are not approving of what we have to offer. Our offer is tempting enough that we hope you are agreeable, but we must have your word that if you are not agreeable then we can remove any knowledge that you will gain through our offer.”

Semeion looked deeply in Brandt’s eyes. Brandt had become a mentor to him in matters arcane. Up until this very moment, Semeion had never doubted the follower of Reah. Now he found a slight doubt creeping into his mind.

Rhema chased the doubt away from Semeion’s mind. “I’m agreeable to that. I’m willing to listen and be the party’s advocate if we are not in agreement. Once they are through the procedure, then I’ll willingly submit myself.”

Rhema’s confidence was enough to stimulate the rest of the group out of their contemplation. One by one, they each agreed to Brandt’s proposal. So long as they wouldn’t undergo the procedure alone, it seemed worth the risk.

Master Searthu leaned back once the party and Iasho had agreed to the proposal. “Master Brandt was not entirely forthcoming earlier.”

Semeion grinned, fighting off the desire to worry. “This is not beginning well for a pair of people who just asked to be trusted.”

Brandt held out a hand and smiled. “Patience, Semeion. Master Searthu will explain what he means.”

Master Searthu continued his speech. “Yes. You see, Master Brandt and I are followers of Reah first and foremost. But we are also members of an organization called the Eiss Nukti.”

Iasho spoke in shock. “But, that organization is a fairy tale told by the oppressed to bring hope to their situation!”

Brandt grinned. “Yes, and there are no doubt people in Quehalost who thought that you all were a simple fairy tale as well. But, you proved them to be wrong by freeing a whole tribe of oppressed people. We are legendary. We are absolutely impossible to discover. But we are more real than fairy tales.”

Master Searthu continued, amused by Brandt’s descriptions of the organization. “We exist only within other organizations. We are a secret police, unknown even to the authorities of the land. We have agents in all of the civilized lands. As you no doubt have guessed, we are both personally assigned to watch over the area of Fingerdale and report any interesting findings to the Eiss Nukti commanders.”

Charis raised her left eyebrow as a question formed in her mind. “So your place in the Temple of Reah is only a disguise?”

Rhema was struck by the question. She looked at Master Searthu, suddenly much more interested in his answer. “Yeah. Your position is a cover?”

Brandt spoke harshly. “No. Our faith is most certainly real, and it would never be compromised by the Eiss Nukti. In truth, Master Searthu was the one who invited me to join with him in service to the Eiss Nukti. I was a member of the Temple of Reah far before I joined the Eiss Nukti. The Eiss Nukti is merely an additional tool that I have at my disposal for the fighting of evil. And believe me when I tell you that it is not the other way around. I serve Reah first, and the Eiss Nukti helps me to that very end.”

Master Searthu was pleased with Brandt’s answer and he continued the explanation. “The Eiss Nukti are primarily known for providing aide spontaneously and without being asked. Help is often only received when an Eiss Nukti member perceives a need and acts upon it out of a feeling of charity or compulsion to fight against evil. Many in the order are highly religious and worship any of the charitable gods, although being religious is certainly not a prerequisite. What is a prerequisite is the desire to fight against evil.”

Master Searthu could tell that he had caught the party’s attention and that Rhema had been satisfied with Brandt’s earlier answer. “Of course, because you are being told about the Eiss Nukti implies that you are being invited to join. We have a need that you all are capable of fulfilling. Actually, if I can be honest I should add that you all brought your ability to meet our need yourself. Some of our members have expressed interest in entering Quehalost and taking the fight against evil to them. Many have tried, and a few have succeeded. But we are always looking to add loyal soldiers to our ranks.”

Ischarus frowned. “We already go into Quehalost. What do you offer beyond that?”

Master Searthu nodded, deferring to Brandt. Brandt smiled politely and spoke. “Besides our support? You have already benefited from the support of the Eiss Nukti. Normally, the Temple of Reah would not be so interested in helping a group of adventurers jump across the land. Most of the assistance that you received was because we were impressed by your quests and wished to hone your skills as agents of charity and justice. I promise that our assistance was given freely, but that is what the Eiss Nukti is all about. We do not ask much of our members other than they fight evil and oppression – as well as be willing to lean on each other for support. These are things that you all do very well already.”

Ischarus smiled and squeezed the hand of his wife. “Yes, we do. Thanks for the compliment, for what it’s worth. But if you all exist within another organization, how would we fit in? What would be our role?”

Brandt smiled. “In my dealings with King Rupert, I have become aware of the fact that he was impressed by your efforts the other day. There is an organization called the Contra Vili, which is a sub-group of the king’s army. They are special agents within the army. They are paid to patrol the Quehalost-Tongra border. At my suggestion, King Rupert has shown interest in adding your skills to his ranks. You would be free to make any excursions that you desire. The king’s arsenal would be at your disposal within reason, of course. And, the king is willing to pay you through very official channels. If nothing else, I do believe that the pay would help defray the costs of operating in Lord Ironblood’s region?”

Iasho nodded. “The money would be helpful, as would being tied to King Rupert through very official channels. But I won’t tell my daughter and her associates where to place her allegiance.”

Semeion asked a very important question. “And, we will be at the king’s disposal as he beckons?”

Brandt nodded. “Agents of the Contra Vili are under no specific orders except to patrol the border and make excursions into Quehalost as needed. The only time that those orders are lifted is in the time of invasion. With Barghost to our east, invasion is likely to only come from one direction. That direction will be Quehalost, and you’ll already be in service through that area. It is unlikely that you’ll be called anywhere else at any time during your service. Very little will change for you and your missions, you will be better compensated for your efforts, and in exchange you will provide a service to the Eiss Nukti as experienced agents into a land that is notoriously rough.”

The party and the followers of Reah exchanged several more rounds of questions before Ischarus leaned forward and looked his wife, Charis, and Semeion each in the eye. “Well, these gentlemen have come for an answer. I suppose it is time we should give them one.”

Semeion turned to Charis and then looked back to Ischarus. “Well, it does sound like an interesting proposition.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled.

THE END​[/Sblock]


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