The Rise of Felskein [Completed]

Session 17, Part 4

All three creatures launched into the air, their malevolent gazes turning on the group. The largest of them was huge and ugly with bat-like wings. Spines bristled from all over its hairless, mottle-skinned body. The second was definitely a griffin, though this one looked ratty and diseased, its feathers falling off in clumps. The last looked similar to the griffin, but had hooves instead of claws and paws and was slightly smaller. All three wore strange harnesses, studded with purple gems.

Kezzek drew his quor'rel just as the big one whipped its tail and them and hurled a volley of spines. Harold cursed as one embedded in his leg and Kezzek heard one of the others curse as well, but he had no time to look and see who as the griffin dove at him, its foul stench washing over him. It's claws raked his back as he rolled to the side, turning and slashing upwards as he rose back to his feet. The thing reared back away from him as its dark blood sprayed out.

As it did so, another spray of spines from the big one thudded into the area around them, some even striking the griffin. The beast didn't seem to even notice as it lunged at Kezzek again. He swung up his quor'rel and it caught the long handle between his hands in its beak, wrenching the quor'rel free and sending it spinning away.

Kezzek cursed and stumbled back as the griffin loomed over him. It shrieked, a foul, rotting smell emanating from it.

Then Kormak came out of no-where, his feet slamming into the side of the thing's head and knocking it away. Kezzek used the opportunity to scramble to his feet and look around.

Keeper was slamming the head of the hooved one into the rocky ground with sick cracking sounds as Kezzek glanced in Suniel's direction. Its whole body convulsed and it fell to the ground, the purple crystals on its harness shattering. The spined one was facing off against Harold's greatsword.

Kezzek couldn't see his sword anywhere, but he did notice a pit at the back of the metal platform near the strange metal railing.

Dodging through the battle, he ran to the edge of the pit and looked in. His quor'rel was embedded in a large block of metal with strange cables and pulleys and gears all around it. Sparks shot up the blade and arced back into the machine. Kezzek made his way to a ladder, sighed, and climbed into the pit, making his way carefully towards his quor'rel.

He waited until the sparking stopped briefly and snatched his weapon out of the machinery. As he looked the weapon over to be sure it was undamaged, more machinery spun and whirred to life all around him and what the platform above him jerked up a few inches.

It's a second lift, he thought with a curse.

“The platform, get to the platform!” he bellowed, hoping the others could hear him over the din of battle. He ran to the ladder and started to climb when the griffin suddenly slammed into his back, talons rending.

He was hurled back down into the machinery pit, slamming his feet up into the griffin as it lunged at him again, heaving with all his might and shoving the beast back. It reared up and roared and he immediately drove a quor'rel blade into it, ripped the blade out, and dived past the thing, scrambling up the ladder.

He kicked the griffin in the beak as it snapped up at him from the pit, then spun and drove his quor'rel down right between its eyes. Its body fell away and he hauled himself up onto the platform just as the platform jerked up another foot.

Harold already stood on the platform, firing back at the spined beast as it chased Kormak towards the platform. Keeper lifted Suniel from under the corpse of the hooved one and dragged him to the platform as well. The spined one had more arrows in it than spines - and half-a-dozen other wounds besides - when finally one of Harold's arrows dropped it to the ringing tinkle of shattering crystals.

Construct, wizard, and dwarf all pulled themselves up to the platform.

“Dog!” Kormak called. The mutt appeared seemingly out of nowhere and jumped to the platform a split second before it suddenly launched upwards at amazing speed, immense acceleration flattening them to the silver metal surface.

After what might have been a few hundred feet of extreme acceleration, it suddenly stopped. They sailed into the air ten feet before slamming down again in a sprawl.

“Everyone all right?” Suniel said as they slowly stood.

Everyone mumbled replies. Kezzek winced and gently touched the huge talon gouges running across his back as he got to his feet. Kormak gingerly approached the edge of the platform and glanced down. “Bubble surrounds us below too. All I see is mountain and that rail.”

“They all dead?” Harold said. “I got the manticore.”

“That what it was? Keeper finished the hooved... thing,” Kormak said.

They gathered at the center of the platform. “What do you suppose those harnesses they were wearing were?” Kezzek said.

“Well, the crystals they had looked just like the ones from Elorn's ship,” Suniel said. The others all stared at him, his words suddenly reminding everyone of the exchange that had taken place just before the battle.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, Harold cleared his throat. “Well, I think-”

The attack was preceded – barely – by a horrible rotting stench and an unnatural chill that went straight to Kezzek's bones.

***

Harold grunted and quickly pulled himself to his feet, bow flying to his hands as he got to his feet.

The creatures were back, but they had undergone rapid and horrific changes. Much of their fur, feathers, and skin had fallen off, revealing muscle, bone and organs that spilled out from the many wounds that were already inflicted upon them. The manticore had struck first, sending Harold flying with a slap from its tail. The others were furling in their wings and attacking as soon as they hit the platform.

Kormak had slammed his foot into the side of the hooved one, but his leg went straight through its side and the creature simply hurled itself sideways into the platform, pile-driving the dwarf into the hard metal.

Keeper stepped in front of the griffin as it dove in, saving Suniel, but he was sent flying twenty feet across the platform by the re-animated griffin's hugely increased strength. Kezzek leapt at it and cleaved off one of its forearms with a roar but it didn't react except to swing at Kezzek with its other arm.

Harold began unloading into the manticore with arrows as it lumbered towards him. He back away from it as he fired until he sensed open air behind him, just as the manticore was on him. At the last second as it lunged towards him, he dove aside, sending it flying past him and over the edge.

He was already on his feet and firing arrows into it as it sluggishly unfurled its wings and mightily pumped its wings to reach the platform again.

The arrows striking it barely seemed to be slowing it down so he aimed for the joints where the wings met its back. It had almost reached the height of the platform again when he finally put enough arrows into its right wing-joint that its motion became jerky.

Finally, at point-blank range, the wing seized up entirely. The manticore plummeted rapidly and disappeared through the metallic bubble.

He spun, aiming down an arrow just in time to see Suniel blast the rearing griffin backwards off the platform. It died again silently and fell back, trailing a plume of smoke.

Harold lowered his bow and walked over to help the others heave the last corpse over the side.

They stood in the strange, adrenaline-pumped after-battle silence for a minute before Kormak spoke up. “Now what?”

“We're going up,” Keeper said.

“We are?” Kezzek said. They walked towards where the lift met the metal rail or stared at what they could see of the mountainside.

It was slight, but Harold could see the mountainside slowly passing below the lift. “I guess. Anyone see any way to make it move faster?”

Everyone shrugged or shook their heads.

“And how tall is this mountain?” Kormak said.

“Miles,” Suniel said, staring up at the shimmering sphere that encased them.

“Well, good thing I brought my tent,” Kormak said, petting his dog on the head before sliding its saddlebags off. “Might as well get settled in, looks like we're in for a long ride.”

Session 18, Part 1

“So why are you getting involved in all this Greywarden?” Kormak said as he finished propping up his tent. “I thought your kind just roamed the frontiers hunting for criminals."

Kezzek growled as he stared out as the bubble. “Thessalock's Ashen Tower is a criminal state. That wasn't war against Steamport, it was genocide.”

Kormak shrugged. “One half-orc's war is another gnome's genocide. The Greywardens all believe that about the Ashen Tower?”

“I don't know. If you hadn't noticed, we haven't seen any others since we left Northmand,” Kezzek said. “But it doesn't matter. Greywardens are trained to enforce law in areas of lawlessness. That is our creed, our purpose. Sometimes a Greywarden must make hard choices.”

“And you've made yours?”

Kezzek nodded.

“Well, I'm still wondering what Annandor said back in Steamport." Harold said.

"You mean while we were blind?" Kezzek said.

Harold ignored him. "Why would an Ashen Tower assassin say the Crystal Towers was the defense for all of Felskein? Does he believe it or was it just a riddle?”

“You sure he said meant the nation of the Crystal Towers?” Kezzek said.

Harold lifted his hands in front of his body and gave a small shrug. “What else could he have meant?”

“Well, I've never been there, but I'm assuming they've got some sort of towers or something there, right?"

Harold glared at the dwarf.

"I'll take that as a yes. Did you build those towers?” Kormak said.

“No, they were there when the first people crossed the Span to the Crystal Tower's mainland. You think he was talking about them? They haven't done anything at all in the hundreds of years the Crystal Towers has been there, just giant floating crystals on top of massive silver towers. Why?”

“Silver towers? Like the ones in the ruins down there?” Kezzek said.

Harold nodded and tapped his foot and the dull silver of the platform. “It's the same stuff this platform is made out of and the Span. Indestructible. Magic, siege weapons; nothing can so much as scratch them.”

“If you didn't, then who made them?” Kormak said, tapping his knuckles on the cool metal of the lift.

“No one knows.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Well, if the Towers themselves can be used as any sort of weapon, I'm definitely bringing it up to the Magisters when we get there,” Harold said. “Maybe we can end the Ashen Tower's reign once and for all.”

They rode the lift for a while in silence, occasionally glancing at where Suniel sat in meditation, for some reason stripped down to a loincloth. Brutal scars crisscrossed most of his body and Kormak noticed that faint blue runes seemed to shimmer on every inch of his body, but only when seen out of the corner of the eye. When Kormak looked at him directly, he saw only the scars.

Kormak squinted at the elf for a moment, then ducked into his tent, pulling out his book and tapping the tattoo on his arm.

Danovin Au located. Pursuing. Also identified elven wizard Suniel Au as a once-associate of Thessalock.

He glanced outside to be sure no one was nearby, then glanced back at his book.

Danovin Au must die. The father's ties to Thessalock were broken long ago, he is nothing like the threat his son poses. At any cost...

***

Over the course of the approximately two days they spent on the lift, they became accustomed to it's slight but perceptible motion, so when it suddenly stopped, Suniel came out of his trance immediately. He opened his eyes and donned his robe.

Keeper was already staring down at a thin walkway that ran along the side of the mountain to their lift.

The others were waking up as Suniel joined Keeper. “We're not at the top yet,” Keeper said, motioning to the rail that continued up the mountain until it disappeared into the shimmering silver of the bubble above them.

“What's happening? Why are we stopped?” Harold said.

“I don't know. I guess we take this walkway,” Suniel said.

“We don't even know where it goes,” Harold said. “How do we know the lift won't start again when we leave? We'll be stranded half-way up the largest mountain in the world.”

“We don't know,” Suniel said, stepping out onto the walkway. The metal was thin and narrow, barely five feet wide, but Suniel felt comfortable, as if something was pulling him down and keeping him steady on it.

There was some quick discussion behind him. When he reached the bubble-wall, he saw the others were all following behind him.

The shock of cold and wind when he passed through the protective silver membrane dropped him to his knees and he was sure it would have ripped him from the platform but for the pull he had felt earlier. Keeper stepped out a moment later and helped to his feet, but even with his robe wrapped tight, the wind and the bitter cold it carried cut straight through him and the air seemed somehow... thin.

Squinting at the wind and suddenly-visible daylight, he saw a strange tower twisting up the side of the mountain. It looked like a pyramid that some giant had grabbed, stretched tall, and twisted. The thin walkway run to where it sat cantilevered off the side of the Landspear on a spider-web of supports that seemed far to thin to support its weight.

“What is that?” Kezzek shouted in Suniel's ear.

“Our destination, I would guess,” Suniel shouted back and pressed on.

As they made their way to the tower, Suniel glanced down to their right, at the immense drop and the sparkling Landspear Lake stretching off into the distance. From their height, he could even faintly see the far shores of the Landspear Lake and, though it might have been a trick of the eye, he thought he could see tiny ships making their way across its glinting surface.

His view was only obstructed by scattered clouds drifting below him. He guessed they were already a several miles up and still the Landspear stretched up above them until it pierced the clouds high above.

Even with the magnificent view, he was grateful to pass through the narrow archway that led into the tower, to find a reprieve from the wind and chill and, surprisingly, to draw full deep breaths. He stamped his feet, shivering and glancing around as the others filed in behind him.

A giant stone statue of an orc with what looked surprisingly like a quor'rel held in its upraised hand dominated the center of the room, the statue's other hand held low and extended, as if reaching for something. A ramp of the silvery metal ran along the outside wall of the giant hollow tower until it disappeared into the darkness of its heights. Suniel was about to turn to examine the murals that covered every available wall-surface of the inside of the tower when a voice spoke from the darkness above.

“Father, I had hoped you wouldn't follow me,” Danovin's said.

Suniel squinted up at the darkness and could just barely make out his son's cloaked figure and, beside him, the looming silver form of Danovin's metal guardian.

“I've noticed your family has a thing for constructs,” Kormak whispered. "Did you notice that? 'Cause I've noticed that."

“You mean you hoped your unnatural creatures would kill me?” Suniel said, ignoring the dwarf and stepping forward.

His son ignored the comment. “Father, there is still time. We can head to the top of the Landspear together and destroy Thessalock's pet. My offer is still open. Together...”

Suniel's voice was a whisper, but somehow he knew his son could hear. “No.”

“Then you Greywarden," his son said. "Surely you must find Thessalock's actions unlawful. He flaunts the laws of every land he passes through. Nothing means anything to him but his own power.”

“And what guarantee do I have that you are any different?” Kezzek said.

Danovin did not reply, instead moving on to Harold. “Think of it, the Ashen Tower and the Crystal Towers standing together. We can work together once Thessalock falls, when I replace him. Nothing could withstand us.”

“There will never be a day when the Crystal Towers will suffer for the corruption and filth of the Ashen Tower to exist within its sight, much less join with it. As far as I am concerned, you're nothing more than another of Thessalock's Ashen Tower lapdogs,” Harold said.

There was a long silence above and Suniel felt sudden tension.

“I thought as much, though I might have hopped it could be different,” Danovin said. “If you will not join me, so be it!”

Suniel's spell-chant began a fraction of a second behind his son's. Around him, his companions drew weapons and the battle began.

So, if anyone but my players are still reading this thread, I have a few questions. I (mostly) know what my players think of this campaign, but would be interested to know what everyone/anyone else thinks (players feel free to post too, just watch the spoilers ).

Who is your favorite PC?

Which was your favorite fight?

What did you think was the coolest/most surprising/most interseting thing that happened?

How does the world/story come across to you? Gritty, real, fantastic, heroic, anti-heroic, contrived, linear, open-ended, surprising, etc?

Any other comments/suggestions/observations?

I'm also curious to see if anyone can guess what happens next and/or what will happen later in the campaign. Would be interesting to see how people's guesses might line up with what actually happened.

If anyone is up to posting a quick response, I'm really curious to see the answers to some of these questions from someone who wasn't "there". I'm pretty immersed in it and so I can't get any sort of objective view of how it's coming across.

I'd love to hear from anyone!

Have no fear, you have one other reader at least!

My favorite character is a really hard pick. I really liked everyone in the original party (Ming, Ilsa, Harold, and Suniel), though I would have to have said Ming. The group just meshed very well in your writing. Since Ming and Ilsa died, Harold and Suniel are my favorite characters. Don't ask me to choose between the two, I can't.

My favorite fight has been the initial fight between the group and Iron Sky's robotic minions. I thought that was excellent. It could easily have seemed silly, what with robot ninjas falling out of the sky and attacking the party, but it was full of awesome if you ask me. I hope your players enjoyed that session's actual game play as much as I enjoyed reading about it.

The coolest thing that has happened was the scene involving Steamport. It had the potential to feel very rail roadish, but it didn't read like that at all. Again, hopefully your players enjoyed playing it as much as I liked reading it.

The most interesting thing thus far is finally seeing some of Suniel's background come to light. I've been dying to figure out what this Black Carriage thing is all about.

The world strikes me as a bit of a mixture of grit, fantasy, and anti-hero, all blended very well. One of the things that I really like about it is that it feels like the storyline to a well written CRPG, or a Final Fantasy game.

No guesses about what's coming up yet, but if I think of anything, I'll post it. Also, since this campaign has already ended, are you and your group playing another game?

Thanks for all the hard work! This is a great story hour. You and all of your players deserve props for some very interesting reading!

~CE

Thanks for the feedback Crazy Eights.

In response to your question, we do have a current game, 4th edition, run by Sanzuo on these boards (Ming/Kezzek's player). You can read about it here:
Obsidian Portal » Campaigns » Fallen Empire

I'm playing Logan Banner, Suniel's player is playing Lenny Flick. Grok'nar/Kormak's player is playing Elara Silvermoon.

I also tried to do a 4th edition game on fantasy grounds. The marginally-edited session logs for the 4 sessions we got through are here:
www.phoenixempires.com/GatesOfHeaven/Session1.html
www.phoenixempires.com/GatesOfHeaven/Session2.html
www.phoenixempires.com/GatesOfHeaven/Session3.html
www.phoenixempires.com/GatesOfHeaven/Session4.html

I'm brainstorming for the next campaign I'm going to run now. I know it's going to be 4th edition and the characters are going to be larger-than-life greek hero/anime hero types (since that's what 4th edition makes me think of).

I have a few ideas for it and have already solo'd one player for one session as a "prologue" for his character, but won't really have anything solid down until I know who will be playing and what characters they make.

Session 18, Part 2

-Note: Took me forever to get it done, but I said Monday, so Monday it is! Well, it was Monday when I started writing it. Technically, it's Tuesday now.-

Suniel locked up.

High above him, his son's silver guardian was charging down the ramp to kill him, shrugging off the arrows that Harold fired at as if they were sticks thrown by a child. The giant stone orc statue had animated and was taking a swing at the archer. Kezzek was charging towards the ramp and Kormak the statue.

Suniel's counter-spell let him see through his son's arcane veil of invisibility, but now he stood with the final word of a spell on his lips. The word froze on his lips and a few seconds seemed to stretch into eternity.

His son cast another spell and Suniel almost said the final word again, but at the last second he recognized a gesture or a fragment of his son's chant over the rising din of battle. He stood again as his son jumped to the wall and began running up it.

To his companions, his son had probably just disappeared - the giant silver construct now heaving the dwarf off the ramp and the giant stone statue had that just missed Harold and sent tile fragments flying across the room probably seemed more pressing concerns. He was dimly aware of Harold shouting something at him between loosed arrows.

Then Danovin turned down to face him, a new chant springing to his son's lips. Suniel recognized the spell immediately from the first fragment of word and gesture. How many had he killed with the same spell?

Danovin threw his hands wide for the final gesture, eyes gleaming, a snarl on his lips as he locked eyes with his father.

Suniel said a final word and destroyed his son's mind.

***

“Violence breeds violence!” Kezzek shouted as he ripped his blade free from the construct's shoulder and sprung away, landing on the ramp and backpedaling up it a ways.

“What?” Kormak shouted back up at him, ducking between the giant stone statue's legs as it cratered the floor tiles where he had stood a moment earlier.

“The inscription on the statue,” Kezzek yelled. Two more of Harold's arrows stuck shallowly into the construct's silver skin and it turned towards the archer again, looking ready to charge. Kezzek saw the metal of the construct slowly reforming where he'd buried his blade seconds before. “Stop fighting!”

“Easy for you to say!” Kormak rolled to his feet, flew through the air, and slammed his knee into one of the statue's massive arms. Dust and tiny fragments of rock rained down. The dwarf landed in a light crouch and then, in a blur of stone he was sent flying. Twenty feet away he collided with one of the mosaics that lined the wall and crumpled in a rain of colored tiles.

“Harold stop! It's Orcish. The statue only attacks those who attack!” Kezzek shouted.

The archer ignored him and two more arrows shattered against the stone statue's broad side. It turned instantly and only a desperate leap to the side saved Harold from being impaled by a ten-foot long stone quor'rel. Kezzek noticed that Keeper had stopped fighting and was looking up at him. Suniel still stood rooted to the spot he'd been since the fight had started, staring up at the darkness above them.

Kormak was on his feet, looking ready to attack again and Harold was drawing another arrow. With a grunt, Kezzek jumped from the ramp, landed running, then stopped and turned as Danovin's construct diverted from charging Harold and rushed at him.

“This is going to hurt,” Kezzek mumbled to himself, holding his arms out to his side, grimacing, and closing his eyes with a wince as the construct reached him, one huge arm swinging back.

It felt like a horse at full gallop slammed into him. He rolled half-a-dozen times and slid another ten feet on the tile before he came to a stop. The world stopped spinning a second later. His side was a throbbing mass of agony.

He got to his feet slowly, growling at the pain, and looked up.

Giant silver construct fought animate statue in the center of the twisted mosaic pyramid, like a battle between two colossus for the amusement of some tinkering god. Dust and tiny chips of stone fell from the statue with every blow, but didn't so much as crack the stone while the arcane metal of the construct immediately began to reform after every hammering, crumpling blow the statue landed upon it.

For a moment they all stood mesmerized by the strange and terrible battle that raged mindlessly before them. Then Kezzek noticed Suniel already half-way up the ramp that spiraled up into the darkness. The elf walked slowly, tears streaming unnoticed from his face, Keeper following a few steps behind.

Harold and Kormak seemed to notice the wizard at the same time and they all ran to catch up. As they did, Suniel knelt slowly and cradled the empty air. Kezzek growled and glanced at Kormak and Harold.

Kormak nodded to the elf, rolled his eyes and used his finger to trace the he's crazy spiral beside his head. Harold was busy searching the darkness with an nocked arrow. Danovin was no where to be seen. Now and then the whole pyramid shook with the violence of the conflict now far below. Small fragments of mosaic tile tinkled off the metal of the ramp all around them.

Then Suniel made a gesture and Danovin appeared in his cradled arms.

Harold cursed and stepped back, aiming at Danovin. Keeper stepped in front of the archer shaking his head, palm outstretched.

Kezzek looked closer and saw the mad gleam of the younger Au's eyes was gone, replaced by a dull lifelessness.

“He's no threat Harold,” Kezzek said, putting his quor'rel away. Kormak was staring down at Danovin with a strange expression on his face that Kezzek couldn't quite place. Concern? That seems a bit odd coming from Kormak, Kezzek thought.

Then Suniel handed up a small silver amulet, never taking his eyes from his son.

“Here, you can use it to control his guardian,” Suniel said, his soft voice barely audible over the battle.

Kormak took it and held the amulet dramatically high over the near-dizzying fall and the battle below. “Oh machination of silver steel, I command thee to halt. Return thine exalted and shiny presence to, uh, here,” Kormak said, frowning as his jest fell apart.

Almost immediately the tower was quiet but for the surprisingly quiet footfalls of the guardian as it walked up the ramp. Kezzek's side throbbed and the air was filled with dust that tasted like lead and stone. Danovin drooled from the corner of his mouth and groaned.

“What the heck happened to him?” Kormak said. “I guess he spent a little too much time-”

“I destroyed his mind, a mind whose brilliance you could never comprehend” Suniel said, still not looking up. He lightly brushed his son's hair from his face. “Even when he was a child I knew he had a mind that might surpass even mine – in spite of his shorter half-bred lifespan. And now it's gone. I said a word and broke it forever.”

“Well, in your defense, he was kinda trying to murder us a little bit,” Kormak said.

“Is there no way to interrogate him?” Harold said. “I think he might know who the spies are in the Crystal Towers, not to mention all he might know of the inner workings and deployments of the Ashen Tower's forces. If we could just get him to-”

“Look at him!” Kormak said. Danovin's mouth opened and closed randomly, his head lolled from side to side erratically, his eyes staring at nothing. “You'd do better interrogating Dog... Dog! I left Dog on the lift!”

Kezzek shook his head and barely caught the guardian amulet as the dwarf threw it aside and ran down the ramp.

He grabbed Harold's arm and pulled him away from the elf and his son. “Let's give them some room.”

Harold pulled his hand out of Kezzek's grasp and glared at him suspiciously. Kezzek sighed.

“There's more light down there, we can see these mosaics better. I for one am curious to see what this place is about. And we can see more what this does,” Kezzek said, dangling the amulet from its chain. And that statue. I thought my quor'rel was unique, maybe here is a link to my past.

Grudgingly, Harold followed him down the ramp, though not without occasional dark glances up at where Keeper stood over the father cradling his son.

***

“There's a story here,” Kezzek said as he walked back down to the base of the ramp where they'd made a rough camp. Suniel was spoon-feeding a quickly-made gruel to his son while Kormak rummaged through his packs and talked to Dog. Harold still stood staring at the mosaic that depicted one of the Crystal Towers destroying what seemed to be a flying island with a beam of light.

Keeper was staring impassively at the motionless guardian construct, which in turn stared at nothing. That scene took Kezzek aback for a moment with its oddity. He shook his head and quickly got over it.

“Anyway, the mosaics...” he said to no one in particular. “There's a whole history here, maybe the whole history of Felskein. The places where the mosaic tiles are all cracked, burned, and broken into indistinguishable blurs are especially intriguing.”

“What's so interesting about broken mosaic tiles? I broke those when I got thrown into them,” Kormak said, tearing off a big piece of jerky with his teeth and pointing to the spot where he'd smashed into a mural during the fight. The dwarf's jaw dropped open, the jerky that dropped from his open mouth snatched out of the air by Dog before it hit the ground. The once-shattered mosaic was restored as if freshly inlaid.

“Well, that's definitely interesting, but that's not what I'm talking about,” Kezzek said, walking over to a different mosaic. “It's not what's left, it's what's gone. Look at this one, all these figures... elves? They seem to be worshiping this place where the tiles are. Over here, this has to be a throne of some sort, but whatever's on it is indistinguishable.”

“Hm...” Kormak said, following him, seemingly intrigued. “And we know that it's not vandalism from my... demonstration.”

Harold stood nearby, to appearances indifferently looking at the again-dormant and re-posed orc statue, but Kezzek knew he was listening. Suniel seemed wholly absorbed by his son's condition.
“They're all over too, at least on the lower half of the pyramid. They stop appearing at all part-way up.”

Kezzek stopped and turned to Kormak and Harold. “Anyway, I've looked over them a couple times and, as I said before, I think this pyramid, these mosaics hold the entire history of Felskein, maybe even the world. It's imperfect and rough, but here goes.”

Kezzek took a deep breath, walked to the first mosaic beside the door they had entered, and gestured towards it. Even Harold and, perhaps even more surprisingly, Keeper had joined him to listen. “In the beginning...”

As long as you promise to get it done eventually, I suppose I will call off my hit squad of ninja pirate juicers.

Session 18, Part 3

-Note: hmm, either the next Part or the one after it has one of the tag lines from my Story Hour signature promo. Though, I guess this one (Part 3) has many of them in a broader fashion. As of the beginning of this post:

Robots, check, Assassins, check, Hobgoblins, check, the Ashen Tower, check, Land Pirates, check, Gnome Genocide, check, Flying Islands, check, Dying Heroes, check.

That leaves Polite Beholders, the Corpse Ramp, Artifacts, Exploding Zombie Dragons, Blood Feuds, Vanished Races, and the Black City left to go!-

“These people were primitive, look, you can see some sort of crude tools here,” Kezzek said, pointing to one of the first mural past the front door. “I'm not sure how much time is between each of these mosaics, but I have the feeling these few murals represent a long time they spent this way.”

“If I'm not mistaken, this one seems to show them creating a new race. It's hard to tell exactly with their forms all blurred out.”

“Yeah, I see what you're looking at there,” Kormak said. “It looks like they're creating... elves? Huh, that's disappointing, I would have thought dwarves were created first.”

“Dwarves and orcs are over here,” Harold said from half-a-dozen murals down. “And a little further, here's humans.”

“Well, if you look over here past Harold,” Kezzek said, walking past the archer. “This is the interesting one. Or one of the interesting ones anyway.”

Harold and Kormak walked over and joined him, staring at the mural for a minute before Kormak said something.

“It's blank wall, there's nothing here.”

“No, there's tiles here. It's not blank. It must be showing some vast darkness. The tiles wouldn't be laid if there was nothing here. Look, the one before it has one of the burned-out figures holding up a large gem or something. You can see a few tiles of the darkness along the right edge here.”

“The orcs in this one look just like the statue back there,” Harold said from where he'd moved ahead to the front of the ramp. “It looks like an army, all armed with quor'rels. The next one shows a few bloody ones coming back. What were they fighting?”

They looked around at the surrounding murals for a while. “Whatever was in the darkness I guess,” Kezzek said. He glanced between the orcs in the mural and the statue, then to his own quor'rel. “What does it look like the statue is doing to you?”

They turned and examined it. It stood, one hand again holding the quor'rel aloft, the other extending his hand. “As if he's wanting something,” Kezzek said, walking towards the statue.

“Wanting to smash you to paste,” Kormak said. “You know what you're doing?”

“I think I just might,” Kezzek said. Slowly, he unsheathed his quor'rel, half expecting the statue to awaken and attack. It didn't.

He stood before the massive outstretched hand for a minute, then placed his quor'rel in it. Everyone waited expectantly.

“Well, not sure what you thought would happen, but I guess it was worth a - HOLY DAMN!” Kormak said, leaping away as the statue closed its fist around Kezzek's quor'rel.

It raised it above it's head and stone rapidly accreted around the blades. At the same time, it lowered the stone quor'rel held in its other hand and the stone that covered it started to crack and fall away. By the time it was lowered to Kezzek's height, the stone had all fallen away from the blade.

Slowly, almost reverently, Kezzek reached up and took it.

It seemed lighter than his old one, yet more substantial somehow. When he took a few experimental swings, it seemed like the air resisted him; he pushed harder against it and the blade suddenly slashed through the air with tremendous power.

“So, you knew to do that how?” Kormak said, looking at Kezzek's new weapon appreciatively.

“It was a hunch,” Kezzek said.

“This one here,” Harold said, seemingly oblivious to everything that had just happened with the statue as he stared at his favorite mosaic. “This must be the Crystal Tower's Defenses that Annandor mentioned. If we could figure out how to activate them, we could destroy the Ashen Tower in a heartbeat.”

“See, look here,” Harold said, tracing the glowing beam of light from the massive crystal atop one of the Crystal Towers to what seemed to by a floating island in the midst of exploding.

“I see that,” Kezzek said, walking over and putting his new quor'rel in its sheath on his back. “Does it not interest you somewhat that the island is floating?”

“Back here, it has more of the gray figures and the other races placing giant gems or crystals or something into the center of these henges,” Kormak said from a few mosaics further down the ramp.

“What's a henge?” Harold said.

“A ring of stones, usually,” Kezzek said, standing next to the dwarf. “See, notice the jagged black line at the bottom of this one? It's even thicker at Harold's. And here...”

He moved to the next mosaic up the ramp from Kormak's. “This one seems to show these floating islands tearing free and leaving sand behind. The Endless Sands?”

“Even Felskein,” Harold said. “This one has Felskein flying in the center of them, like the hub of a wheel. It's at least fifty times larger than the next one. And if that yellow is the Endless Sands, look at the black tiles woven through it.”

“Even more interesting are these further up,” Kezzek said, walking past Harold. “Those black tiles you noticed are gone in this one and the one after it, it looks like all these floating islands are returning to the Sands.”

“So maybe they all landed and together became Felskein?” Kormak said.

Kezzek shook his head and continued up the ramp. “No, because up here, the darkness seems to be returning. Look, you can see it engulfing some of the islands that are in the Sands. The next one shows them fleeing to the sky again.”

“Interesting,” Kormak said, examining the mosaics before Kezzek intently. “Wait, what's this thing? Is that what I think it is?”

Kezzek leaned down and Harold joined them. Kezzek nodded and motioned them further up the ramp. “Might want to get some light.”

“I don't need it,” Kormak said as Harold lit a torch. “Keen dwarven night-sight and all that.”

They followed Kezzek a little farther up and stopped at a mural that unmistakably showed a Gem-Eye.

After letting it sink in on Kormak and Harold for a moment, he led them to the next panel. “What does this one look like to you?”

They looked at it for a while, then Kormak said, “From what you've told me about them, it looks like Iron Sky constructs marching into the Darkness.”

“No, not just marching,” Harold said. “Look, these are like the ones we fought, the big floating ones and the little fast ones. It looks like they're firing into the Darkness too. They're fighting it.”

“That's what I thought too,” Kezzek said, nodding. “And it looks like they might have succeeded beyond their creator's wildest expectations.”

They followed him further up the ramp, until it narrowed enough that they could see a door at the top of the ramp leading outside. Then Kezzek stopped. “Look at this one.”

“Looks like Iron Sky is killing the gray figures,” Harold said. “Here they're throwing them off the floating islands and here this big one looks like it's standing on a massive mound of gray forms.”

“I'm guessing whoever these slagged gray tiles represent made more than they bargained for when they made Iron Sky,” Kezzek said softly. “They fought off whatever the darkness was, then turned on their masters and destroyed them. This is the last mosaic that has the gray figures in it...”

The others took that in for a moment, then Harold began walking past and Kormak followed the archer a second later. “What about the last ones before the door?”

“Well, those are really interesting, especially the last one, but we're not quite there yet,” Kezzek said, joining the others. “Harold, you remember when Keeper first activated and he told us about Iron Sky's seven 'Skylands'?”

“Vaguely, yes. Why?” Harold said.

“This is why.”

He pointed at a mural depicting Iron Sky constructs attacking a floating islands. “I think Iron Sky had seven. If this is at all accurate, they have at least nine, and I have no idea how long ago this was.”

“Wait, you think all this is real?” Harold said. “For all we know, this is just some story created by some extinct race. Ever heard of propaganda?”

“What sort of propaganda would you put a couple miles up the tallest mountain in the world?” Kormak said. “Not much to convince up here.”

“Well, I believe this is real and I'll show you why in a minute,” Kezzek said, walking on up the ramp. “Ah, lets see. Yes, this one here. They're small, so it's hard to tell, but what do all these specs flying over the Endless Sands look like to you?”

Harold held the torch close to the mosaic and all three examined it closely. “More Gem-Eyes. Hundreds I'd guess,” Harold said.

“Looks like they're searching the desert for something,” Kormak added.

“Any guess as to what that something might be?” Kezzek said.

“They were always looking for those amulets we have stored in Keeper,” Harold said. “Maybe they're hunting for those.”

“Maybe,” Kezzek said. “But remember that one we ran into as we were returning from deposing Neergrog?”

“The broken one? The one that was all excited about... oh.” Harold stared off into the empty space that dropped a hundred feet to the statue below.

“They're searching for Felskein,” Kezzek said. “If you'll remember, at the last mosaic that shows all the islands flying up into the sky, Felskein isn't with them.”

“And Keeper told us when Suniel first brought him to life that Felskein was considered the 'Lost Continent' by the Nexus, whoever or whatever that is,” Harold said.

“So these things are combing the Endless Sands searching for us?” Kormak said. “You'd think something as large as Felskein would be hard to miss. Heck, we're on a mountain that's supposed to be ten miles high. How do you miss something like that?”

“Maybe they call them the Endless Sands for a reason. I don't know really,” Kezzek said. “Based on the interactions we've had with Iron Sky so far, I don't think them finding us would be good news for anyone on Fekskein. It gets stranger though.”

Kezzek walked a little farther and stopped in front of one of the last and most perplexing mosaics. “This one is... well, look.”

Harold and Kormak looked at it for several minutes. “It looks like someone fighting Iron Sky,” Kormak said. “That one you showed us a ways back had a bunch of people fighting Iron Sky as they attacked the Skylands. What's so special about this one?”

“This isn't just someone. Look closer.”

“There's an archer here, and this is some sort of mage. That one is hard to make out, that looks like a Greywarden gauntlet and...” Kormak trailed off.

Harold met Kezzek's eyes.

“So whoever made this is still here,” Harold whispered, hand drifting towards his quiver. “They have to be if they had this information and had time to create this.”

“I doubt it,” Kezzek said, walking towards the door. He stopped at the final mural.

They all stared at it in wonder, even Kezzek who had already spend ten minutes looking at it before.

The final mosaic showed a twisted silver pyramid jutting from the side of a mountain. A silver sphere stuck to a thin rail going up the mountain like a giant opaque soap bubble formed over a string.

Small figures were approaching the lower door to the pyramid along a thin walkway; one figure dressed in robes, one a larger figure with a giant metal gauntlet, one with a bow, and a shorter one following along behind the others, a dog trailing far behind...

-Note: can't get it to post here, so it's in the next post down...-

Session 18, Part 4

<Note: Since I missed last week, here's an extra long one.>

When they awoke from their makeshift camp around the base of the giant orc statue, Danovin Au was dead.

Kezzek stood, waiting impassively for Suniel to release the body he held to his chest so he could examine it. Harold took the news of the death as if Kezzek had said he'd found a weevil in a biscuit and had headed back to his favorite murals of the Crystal Towers. Perhaps the archer thought if he stared at them long enough, he could somehow unlock the secret of the Crystal Towers defenses.

Kormak was busy taking down his tent with brisk efficiency, humming a little tune as he did so. Kezzek was beginning to wonder what had the dwarf in such a good mood when Suniel finally released the body, striding to where Keeper stood gazing at the first Iron Sky mural of Keeper's “kin” marching into the blackness.

Kezzek knelt and gave Danovin's body a quick examination. There wasn't a single wound, but his blackened veins bulged against his skin. There was a faint foul smell about him, almost like a bog...

Suniel pushed Kezzek roughly away, pulled out a small knife, and slit open the veins in his son's arm as Kezzek and Keeper watched.

“Tell me what you know,” Suniel said, pointing at the wound he'd made as he stared back at Keeper.

Keeper knelt and touched the thick, viscous blood that slowly oozed out. The construct raised his hand before his eyes and rubbed the blood between his fingers. “Poison. Tar Blood it is called. Extremely rare.”

Kezzek quirked an eyebrow at Keeper's sudden alchemical knowledge just as the construct glanced up and met his eyes. “So says the Nexus.”

“Poison,” Suniel said. With no change in expression, he walked over to Kormak. “Show me your things, all of them.”

“Say what, your Elfiness?” Kormak said. “You have no right to-”

“Now,” Suniel said. “We found you along the lake not far from where someone killed Captain Elorn with their bare hands. Now my son is dead by poison. Kezzek is a Greywarden and poison is too subtle for Harold. That leaves you.”

“What about him?” Kormak said, pointing at Keeper.

“Rusty metal constructs are, of course, the most excellent silent poisoners,” Keeper said in his flat voice. Kezzek glanced at Keeper wondering again if the thing had a sense of humor hidden away somewhere.

“Show me your things,” Suniel said. “All of them, lay them out here. Now.”

Kormak's brow furrowed as he frowned and stood, shifting slightly into a fighting stance. Keeper and Kezzek stepped forward to Suniel's side immediately, Keeper's eyes sparking and Kezzek reaching for the hilt of his quor'rel.

“Whoa, easy fellas,” Kormak said raising his hands. “Just standing up to go get my things. Jeez, touchy touchy.”

A few minutes later, the dwarf's belongings lay strewn about the floor, the most damning evidence in Suniel's hands.

“What is this?” Suniel said, a sharp tone in his voice. “Explain this away dwarf, I dare you.”

Kormak shrugged. “It's a poison making kit.”

“And this?” Suniel said, holding up a vial with a few drops of liquid in it.

“It's a used poison vial. What's it look like it is?”

Kezzek reached forward and put an restraining hand on Suniel's arm before he blasted the dwarf into cinders. “Wait. Keeper, what type of poison is in the vial?”

He could feel the tension in Suniel's body; the elf was trembling with barely contained fury. Keeper took the vial and poured one of the last drops into his palm. “Blackbark venom,” he said, without hesitation. “It's a moderately rare Fey poison.”

“Are it's effects similar to Tar Blood?” Kezzek said.

The construct shook his head. “No, this would make the subject begin to cough up blood as the lining of the lungs dissolved, soon followed by-”

“Ok, I get it.” Kezzek pointed to the poisoner's kit. “Could Tar Blood be made with the chemicals and reagents in this?”

Keeper shook his head after a mere glance. “You don't make Tar Blood. It's naturally occurring, but only in a rare creature that primarily lives in tropical forests. There are a few varieties of them but all tend to favor the canopy layer and-”

“So, you're saying there's no evidence that Kormak has or was able to create Tar Blood?” Kezzek said.

“No.”

“He could have poisoned him and thrown the vial off the mountain!” Sunial said.

“So could I or Harold or even Keeper,” Kezzek said. "Capability does not mean culpability."

“I'm a poisoner, sure, but why would I want to kill your kid?” Kormak said. “He was practically a vegetable. Heck, my dog is probably smarter than Danovin was by the time you'd-”

“That's enough Kormak,” Kezzek said, stepping between the dwarf and the increasingly livid elf.

“We have no hard evidence here,” he said softly to Suniel. “Suspicion does not translate to guilt. It might be some enchantment Thessalock cast on him to keep him from leaving the Ashen Tower. Besides, I've examined the lift and it seems we must go all the way up before we can go down. We may need every one of us to fight whatever it is that is up there. Take a walk, cool down, Harold wants to be on the lift as soon as possible so we can get underway.”

Suniel stared at the ground, his jaw clenched. When he looked up, his eyes were so cold, it make Kezzek take a step back. The elf turned and knelt over his son again, hands clenched into fists.

Kezzek sighed and headed to gather his own things, glancing back at Kormak as he packed another oddity; an empty book and several dozen loose sheafs of parchment, carefully bound, with no sign of ink or quill among the dwarf's things.

***

The tension was only somewhat abated as they rode the lift up the mountain, again encased in the shimmering metallic bubble. Kormak had spent the two additional days traveling up the side of the mountain sitting in his tent near the edge of the lift with Keeper standing watch over him day and night – or what they guessed day and night were in the near-constant dim glow of the bubble.

There had been a few flare ups between Kormak – demanding that Suniel keep Keeper away from him – and Suniel – countering that maybe Kormak should stop murdering people.

Harold shook his head at it all. Every day the Ashen Tower grew stronger and its threat to the Crystal Towers and the rest of Felskein grew, and they sat squabbling over the death of one of Thessalock's chief servants!

His dark musing were interrupted by a subtle sensation. The lift had stopped. He quickly woke everyone up.

“About time,” Kormak grumbled, with a sidelong glance at Suniel. “I'd rather face Danovin's white beast than spend another hour in here with his father.”

Suniel walked to the edge of the bubble, flanked by both constructs – he had taken to wearing the amulet that controlled Danovin's silver guardian. “Keeper, see what it's like on the other side.”

Keeper complied immediately, disappearing through the silver membrane, only to reappear seconds later covered with frost and snow. “It is five to ten feet tall out there,” Keeper said. “The wind would tear it away in an instant except that it is so cold the snow is more like ice. There is barely enough air for you living things. On the positive side, it looks like there is another large silver bubble only a few hundred feet away.”

“So, the plan is to cross a few hundred feet of snow and ice in a howling gale with no air so we can enter the lair of some unknown white beast that had a lieutenant of the Ashen Tower worried?” Kormak said. “Where do I sign up?”

“Right here,” Suniel said, without looking away from Keeper. “Do you think you and the guardian could clear a path for us?”

“We could, though it will take time and you will still face a certain degree of exposure.”

“Then do it.”

***

Kormak pushed through the membrane, frozen to the bone and gasping for air. Harold was already ahead of him, bow drawn as he surveyed the broken ruins inside the calm of the bubble. Keeper emerged a second later, carrying an unconscious Suniel through and setting him on the bare dirt.

Serves him right, Kormak thought, leaving Kezzek and the constructs to take care of him as he slipped into the remains of what seemed to be a small city, surprisingly not made of silversteel.

They had entered along a wide avenue with a noticeable incline up to a large pedestal with a massive black orb spinning above it. As he watched, the air around the orb seemed to shimmer and then pulse, a wave of barely visible energy shooting out horizontally in all directions from it. When it passed through Kormak, it felt like the rumble of an earthquake, a deep crystalline tone that he felt more than heard and that left his ears aching.

Moving silently through the rubble of the buildings consumed most of his attention, so by the time he crept into the remains of what seemed to be a temple beside the orb-pedestal, the others already stood before it. He glanced around, looking for the white beast Danovin had spoken of. There was no sign.

He was about to join the others when something huge passed less than ten feet over his head.

He hit the ground instinctively, looking up to see it land where the others had been standing, sending them scrambling away. He'd never seen one before, but he knew immediately that it was a dragon.

There was a vicious gleam in it's pure, icy blue eyes, it's white scales shining like jagged sheets of ice. A strange and unfortunately familiar harness was strapped across it's chest, bearing large purple crystals and a few of pale blue.

“What are you doing here?” it said, it's voice booming and breath steaming with cold in spite of the relative mildness inside the dome. “Only Dragons are allowed here, leave immediately.”

Suniel stepped out from behind a broken wall he had dodged behind. “We bear Gilderalin's mark.”

Harold joined the wizard, arrow knocked.

“I don't care if you have the mark of Garnaal or are Gilderalin's long-lost half-breed son, you're not a dragon, so you are not allowed here. Leave. Now.”

“Who is Garnaal?” Kezzek said, joining the others.

“Garnaal is the Dragon currently telling you to leave now or die here.”

“Can you at least tell us-” Suniel said.

“No! Leave, NOW!” Garnaal boomed.

“We were told that orb protected the Ashen Tower. Surely the Dragon Council doesn't-” Harold began.

One second his companions were trying to speak with the dragon that loomed over them, the next they were engulfed in a chill blast of freezing air and razor ice shards.

***

Suniel gasped, staggered, and slipped through the rubble, his left side shredded by shards of ice and numb with cold. He glanced back to see the dragon tear into the guardian, claws slicing through the silver metal of its body like a sharp knife through cheese. Garnaal snarled and spun around as arrows flew at it from the other direction and unleashed another blast of its terrible breath. The arrows stopped.

Suniel halted for a second and threw his most powerful spell at the dragon – the same one he had used so effectively on his son three days before. Garnaal shook it off and turned to scan the ruins in Suniel's direction, keen eyes sweeping the broken and tumbled buildings. It had almost spotted him when Kezzek attacked it from another direction, slashing with his quor'rel.

Suniel took the opportunity to duck low and scramble to a new position, finding a set of partially intact stairs that led to the mostly demolished upper floor of what might have been a barracks. He stepped out onto a crumbling balcony in time to see Kormak tear a handful of scales of the dragon's flank with his bare hands, hammering the spot hard with his knees and elbows.

Garnaal spun and sent him flying with a swipe of his tail and launched into the air, blasting Keeper, Kezzek, and the guardian with another blast of his breath as he rose. Suniel chanted quickly to counter and the air all around the dragon exploded in flame.

It roared and dove upon him before the fire had even cleared, slamming into the balcony and sending Suniel slamming into the ground amidst a rain of rubble. He pulled himself free in time to see the dragon disappear through the shimmering dome that encased them.

“Ready yourselves,” Harold called from somewhere out in the battlefield. “It will return!”

A moment later it did so, meeting a hail of arrows and another blast of fire as it did so. It spotted someone amidst the rubble and scoured another bit of the ruin with its breath then broke off, pumping its huge wings, and rising towards the shimmering silver again.

Arrows flew from two directions now and Suniel saw their intent; arrows pierced or punctured its wings again and again. With a chant and a gesture, Suniel blasted its nearest wing and the dragon tumbled down, crashing into the domed roof of a mostly intact building. The structure shattered into bits of rock and dust, the impact of Garnaal's fall felt even from Suniel's distance.

“It wore a harness, even if it died in the fall, be ready!” Suniel shouted as he half-stumbled, half-ran through the ruins towards where the dragon had fallen.

The dust still swirled about as he neared the shattered structure and he slowed to a cautious walk. He heard the muffled movements of the others somewhere around him, but mostly there was silence, profound after the din of battle and the roars of the dragon.

There was a sudden explosion of movement and he hit the ground just in time as the silver guardian flew through the air past him and slammed into a wall that immediately collapsed upon it. Suniel looked up to see dragon launch up out of the dust, the beat of it'\s wings parting the dust in swirling clouds.

It was Garnaal, but different. The distinct smell of undeath was upon it and already scales began to flake off, like ice breaking off a glacier. Its neck was twisted and contorted, clearly broken by the fall. It rose to the air and hovered for a moment, dead eyes peering down at the figures emerging from the settling dust. It opened its mouth wide, jaw distending grotesquely, pulled in its wings, and dove, heading straight for Suniel.

***

Kezzek buried his quor'rel so deep into the thing's side that a whole section of scaled hide came away, already-blackening organs spilling out all over him, entangling him and causing him to slip. The undead dragon, without even looking, reached back with an arm at an angle that would have been impossible if it had been alive, and slashed him. He swung and cut off several fingers at a joint, only to be caught in a backhand swing that sent him headlong into a wall.

He shook his head to clear it and rolled aside on instinct as its tail powdered some of the bricks he had been lying among and sent fragments of others flying in all directions. A leap and a roll took him over a low wall and he circled around the still-intact corner of another building, looking to approach the monstrosity from another direction. The others shouted and cursed and the occasional fragment of chant or incantation could be heard from Suniel over the din of battle, but the dragon was silent, apart from the thunderous sounds of the destruction it wrought.

Reaching another avenue to the plaza where the fight was currently be waged, Kezzek roared, sprinted, and leapt onto the thing's back. He slashed twice, then held on as it thrashed and twisted to dislodge him. Kormak ran in front of it shouting and it turned on the dwarf long enough for Kezzek to get to his feet. He ran up its back, somehow keeping his footing as scales slipped and tore out under his feet, arrows flew by, and the beast thrashed and turned as it was attacked on all sides. It turned on him as he reached the joints where its wings met it shoulders.

Its terrible lifeless gaze met his and it unfurled its wings around Kezzek, a rasping low hiss escaping from it as its neck turned around at an impossible angle. Kezzek didn't slow, planting one foot on the bony arch of its wing and launching into the air. It's head snapped down, distended jaw slavering blood and ichor, but the bones of its neck cracked, shifted, and locked causing it to snap closed just short of Kezzek.

He brought one point of his quor'rel down into the center of its forehead with both hands, half-fearing the blade would shatter on the reinforced bone of the dragon's heavy brow. Instead, the quor'rel buried into it up to the hilt, his momentum causing its neck to crack and shatter in several places. Kezzek landed hard in the rubble as its body fell heavily beside him, blood and viscera spilling from dozens of wounds.

It spasmed and twitched a few times and lay still.

Kezzek wearily got to his feet and walked to where his quor'rel was still buried in its head. With a jerk and a twist he pulled it free, looking about and nodding to the others that emerged from the wreck and rubble all round. “I think we got it finally,” he said.

“No, the harness, there's-” Suniel shouted, scrambling towards him over a mound of loose debris.

The dragon shuddered and Kezzek spun to face it, too late.

***

Harold could only stare in terrible awe as the dragon's skeleton tore free from its shredded hide, a long wing bone shooting out and impaling the Greywarden.

He cursed and took aim with a sinking feeling, knowing his arrows would do little to the beast in its new form. One arrow sunk into a rib, but two others glanced off bone and the skeletal dragon turned on him, moving with surprising speed, using its now-fleshless wings like an insect's extra legs to propel itself over the rubble. Harold wove and dodged, ducking through alleys and under crumbling archways as it pursued him, turning and firing whenever he could.

At one point, Kormak appeared out of nowhere and shattered one of its rear legs, but it barely slowed. Keeper blasted it with lightning from his eyes and Suniel hurled another small blast of fire that splintered a dozen of its ribs.

Harold took another turn and was suddenly out of the ruins, running headlong towards the shimmering silver of the bubble. Sounds of bone scraping on rock came close behind him and he ran harder, lungs burning. When he was nearly to the shimmering wall, he slid to a stop and spun about and raised his bow, just in time to see the dragon scramble over the last building like some obscene insect. It rose up, swaying, until its empty eye-sockets found Harold.

Debris flew away behind it as it scrabbled off the tumbling walls and launched towards him, but it was met in mid-air by an explosion that sent if flying off course. Chunks of bone and strips of clinging flesh fell as it rolled through the dirt and landed heavily on its back, but even then it didn't stop. Instead, it's arms and legs reversed clumsily and it came at him upside down, using its wings and even its tail like extra legs as it charged.

He held the last arrow knocked, the last few seconds as it hurled towards him seeming to slow to an eternity. There is nothing I can do, he thought numbly. One arrow will do nothing.

Then he saw a black crystal embedded on the inside of its skull, glinting in the reflection of the silver bubble behind him. He took a breath, looked down the arrow shaft, and loosed.

His arrow passed through the empty eye-socket. He took two running steps and leapt out of the way as the thing's head exploded, its breaking, stumbling, and crumbling mass crashing through the space he'd been standing in a second earlier. He hit the ground, rolled, and came to his feet, only to be hurled from his feet again as the dragon's whole body exploded in a whistling cloud of bony splinters...