The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Realms #213] The Big Squeeze

"Cursed Aphyx!" Ruze spat from the rear. "More tentacles!"

Finian grunted in pain and reversed his grip on his sword in order to stab downward at the tentacle. Before he could do so, however, Ixin took a step to the side and gestured passed Ledare's right shoulder.

"Hesjingacid!" she growled and a dollop iridescent green flew from the mage's clawed fingertips. Her aim was off, however, and the missile splashed down three feet shy of the tentacle; its acid hissed on the stone at Draelond's feet.

The Archer saw none of this, of course. He was doing his best to prevent himself from being dragged down into the filth below while at the same time trying to sever the gripping limb with his sword. He succeeded in neither regard. The barbed tentacle continued to swell upward, wrapping itself snuggly around the half-elf's waist and only the fact that the hole was too small for Finian to fit though prevented him from disappearing into the dark recesses of the under chamber.

"Draelond, mighten you have a flame bomb from Rhem's you can-" the Battleguard started to ask, but the big warrior darted forward with his hands gripping Ravager tightly.

"Hold still!" he bellowed and swung the bastard sword at the writhing tentacle. His attack was more restrained than was his norm, but in his effort to avoid damaging Finian, he missed the tentacle as well.

"Dammit!" Ledare cursed and stepped to the right, putting her into a flanking position with Draelond. Her sword sought an opening, but found none. Finian felt the bones in his leg and pelvis groan in protest as the tentacle continued to constrict.

"Ledare! Wait!" Ruze cried. "Let me tie a rope around your waist!" But it was too late for that, and it wasn't Ledare that needed to worry. A second tentacle snaked up from another nearby hole and flailed at Draelond, but fortunately found no purchase on the man's chain hauberk.

Ixin repeated her invocation and flicked her arm outward at the tentacle that had reared up behind the big fighter. Although Acid Splash was an old spell and one that she had cast countless times during her years stuck amongst the greens in the Duchy of Bluffside, she somehow managed to stumble over the last syllable of the verbal component. Consequently, the acid droplet appeared on the tips of her fingers but didn't go anywhere; the noxious smell of Ixin's burning flesh blossomed amidst the general reek of the chamber.

Finian tried his longsword again, but he just couldn't manage to strike the tentacle. Dark spots were forming in front of his eyes.

Grumbling about the lack of planning and poor listening skills of his companions, Ruze moved in to help Finian. He latched his strong hands onto the throbbing tentacle and managed to loosen it momentarily - long enough for Finian to take in a ragged gasp of air.

Draelond twirled Ravager in his hands and brought it to bare on the limb that swayed in the air above him. It seemed that Lukane was frowning on his actions however; the bastard sword flew from his practiced hands as if the grip had been coated in butter. It clanged to the cave floor a few feet away.

Ledare's sword again flashed in, seeking a solid blow against the limb of their unseen opponent, but found only air. Fortunately for Draelond, the tentacle that hunted for him was having no better luck than his Janissary Companion. He felt the thing part the air beside his head as he darted after his fallen weapon.

Finian cried out as the tentacle squeezed him again, turning his guts to paste despite the Battleguard's help.

"We need to get out of here for Io's sake!!!!" Ixin hissed, but instead of retreating, she darted forward to add her not-insignificant strength to Ruze's. But her hand was slick with blood where the acid had burned her and she couldn't get a grip on the tentacle. The Battleguard's help was enough, it seemed. Finian was able to muscle his way free of the coils and regain his feet although the pain in his stomach and leg was enormous.

At once, Ruze released his grip on the tentacle and scooped up Finian as he had once scooped up Ledare in the collapsing temple of Aphyx. In the process, he presented the flailing limb with an opportunity to strike at him - which it did, wrapping itself around him as snuggly as it had the Archer. The cleric tried in vain to swear an oath, but the constricting limb forced the air from his lungs.

While Draelond fumbled in the darkness for his dropped sword, Ledare once again moved into a flanking position, this time opposite Finian and Ixin. She slashed at the tentacle but missed for a third time. This time, however, she was alone in her misfortune; no sooner had Draelond's fingers closed around Ravager's familiar black walnut handle then the second tentacle found him. He felt the barbs that lined the tentacle's underside rake against his left thigh, but was able to muscle the limb aside before it could successfully grapple him.

Ruze, who was already firmly gripped within the other tentacle's coils could do nothing but fight back a scream as the taste of his own blood bubbled up in the back of his throat. He dimly felt himself hauled into the air.

"Hold on, holy man!" Ixin said as she looked up into the cleric's rapidly-purpling face. She renewed her efforts to grip the tentacle and this time she managed to latch onto it solidly. She wrenched backward with all the draconic strength in her limbs and the Battleguard was able to suck in a single breath of air.

Finian gritted his teeth and drew his dagger. His twin blades licked out at the barbed coils that restrained the cleric. His longsword missed by a wide margin, but his dagger opened a line of blood along the tentacle and they heard a squeal of pain echo up from somewhere below. Momentarily heartened, Ruze strained against the limb that was doing its best to crush his ribs, but it was to no avail. The thing's grip was too powerful.

With Ravager in hand once more, Draelond felt a good deal better about his chances of survival and he threw everything he had into the sword. It sliced through the tentacle that was harrying him, severing it four feet from its barbed tip. An agonized roar filled their ears and the stump of flesh retreated below, leaving the majority of the tentacle to writhe around at Draelond's feet.

Ledare tried desperately to replicate her companion's success, but she couldn't seem to land a telling blow. Her sword struck the tentacle binding Ruze, but skittered off the thick hide without causing any damage. And the thick limb then gave the Battleguard another squeeze that caused his eyes to bulge in their sockets. Ropes of swollen veins stood out along his face and neck and he sprayed a gout of blood from his mouth before going limp in the thing's coils.

"Holy man!" Ixin roared and slashed at the tentacles ineffectually with her claws.

Finian lunged in again with both sword and dagger and this time it was his longsword that scored a hit, skewering the tentacle momentarily before the Archer removed the blade, sending the creature's blood spraying in two directions. Again their was a squeal from below and the coils unwrapped from around the cleric whipping back down through the hole in the floor.

The Battleguard fell unceremoniously onto the hard stone floor.

"Rereat! Now!" Ledare barked as she sheathed her sword. She grabbed Ruze's limp arm with her free hand and dragged him back into the narrow 'staircase' away from the holes where she lowered him gently to the ground. She stepped away from him, giving Finian room to examine the fallen cleric. "Is he-?" she asked afraid to give voice to her fears.

The Archer bent down, feeling the Battleguard's throat for a lifebeat with one hand even as he fished in his herb satchel with the other. "He's alive. But just barely," Finian said grimly. "Give me some room to work."

Ledare stepped back and pointed at Draelond. "You be ready if that thing decides to try again," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the dark chamber where they had just done battle. As the warrior reluctantly took up his position, the Janissary spotted Ixin's yellow eyes regarding her from the shadows.

"I am confused about what is going on here," Ixin told the half-elf. "I had agreed to try to save the girl, Nilia, because I thought she had been taken by humans or humanoids. In my opinion, we are in over our heads."

"I didn't ask for your opinion and I don't much care what it is at this point," Ledare told her coldly and she heard Draelond suck in his breath with surprise. He turned and her lowlight vision had no trouble picking out the disapproving scowl on his face.

"Ixin is right, Ledare," he said. "We are in greater jeopardy every moment we stay in this evil place."

"And what of Kirnoth?" the Janissary asked, her voice sounding very small in the darkness. "What danger does he now face?"

"Trust me Ledare, I understand as well as anyone your desire to find Kirnoth, but at what cost?" he asked. "If Ruze is lost but we find Kirnoth is the price sufficient? If we find him dead? If we find him as a wererat?"

"I need confirmation that he could no longer be saved by us," the Janissary replied. "I can't leave him without proof of that."

"I respect the very little I know of your mission to find your friend, but I am not very comfortable blindly running headlong into my death," Ixin said bluntly and Draelond nodded.

"If he will have us back, let us retreat to Rherram's and regroup," the warrior said. "Perhaps if Kirnoth is alive he can find his way back to that place as well."

"I've done all I can for him," Finian said as the Archer got painfully to his feet. "He's stabilized, but he won't be much use to us in his present state."

"What say you, Ledare?" Draelond asked. "I shall follow your lead, but my suggestion has been gi-" The man's words ended in a startled grunt as an arrowhead appeared with a spurt just below his collarbone. Draelond stared at it uncomprehendingly as he pitched forward against the stone wall.

Two more shafts launched themselves out of the darkness of the foul-smelling chamber and clattered against the tunnel wall. A fourth dinged off of Ledare's steel shield.

[Realms #114] Blinded By the Light

"Draelond!" Ledare shouted in dismay as the warrior fell to the cold stone floor.

"Retreat!" Finian called from the rear. "Grab Draelond and let's get out of here!"

Before anyone could react to do anything of the sort, two leathery shapes flew from the darkness with swords flashing. Their attack was sudden and savage, but Ledare's heavy armor protected her and her sword and shield blocked the narrow fissure rather completely, preventing them from advancing further into the 'staircase'. Draelond was exposed on the ground at the Janissary's feet, but the flying things showed little interest in him.

Lying uncomfortably on the stairs, Ruze swallowed back on the coppery taste of his own blood and grabbed his holy symbol with both hands. "My Queen, I am close to you now. I can see you," he intoned in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "But I know now is not my time. I have not completed my mission here yet. I beg for more time to rid the Realms of the foul taint of chaos. Rain your tears upon me - heal me, my Queen, so I may continue to do thy bidding." The narrow tunnel was lit momentarily with moonlight and the cleric smiled as his aches and pains abated.

Ledare held the line at the foot of the stairs even as a third assailant appeared in the dark chamber behind the first two. She had a moment to glimpse its slavering, inhuman face filled with long fangs and surmounted by enormous pointed ears before she was forced to turn her full attention back to defense. She batted aside a blow with her shield and as she opened herself up, the third attacker's shortsword licked in and opened a gash on Ledare's left forearm. Her own sword stabbed outward, lightning quick, sinking into the furry meat of the creatures bicep. She felt the blade slice across bone, severing a major artery and causing the creature to fall backward in pain.

Ixin reached around the Janissary's feet and grabbed Draelond's left hand in both of hers. Heaving with all her might, she was able to drag him backward behind the protection of Ledare's blockade. The mage was little skilled in the matters of healing, but it was plain to her that the fighter was losing a lot of blood. His chainmail was painted with the stuff like a crimson tabbard.

Finian, meanwhile, had been fishing in his gear for the alchemical items that Rherram had given them when they'd set out earlier. He pulled forth the vial of alchemist's fire, the smokestick, and one of the flashpellets. Using the first was out of the question and he had no fire with which to light the second. He settled on using the last and drew back his arm.

"Cover your eyes!" he shouted and threw the pellet. It flew unerringly over Ixin's back and beneath Ledare's swordarm, striking one of the Janissary's hirsute opponents in the abdomen. The pellet exploded on impact, flooding the stairwell and the chamber in a white-hot burst of light.

Finian knew when to avert his eyes and was uneffected by the dazzling brilliance. Ruze and Ixin were both able to react in time to shield their own faces from the blast of light and likewise suffered no ill-effects. Ledare, however, who was engaged in melee with two opponents could do little to avoid the blinding light. She cried out as spots of purple, blue and black exploded and swam across her field of vision.

And to make matters worse, it seemed that neither of her attackers had been fazed in the least by the light.

more to come...

[Realms #214] Blinded by the Light

The inhuman creatures pressed their advantage against the dazzled Janissary. Shortswords flickered out expertly and only Ledare's half plate armor saved her from a pair of grievous wounds. Her enemies attacked with abandon and came in close. She retaliated with a blind upward slash that drew her blade along one of the creatures furry wrist. It let out a high-pitched, keening wail of pain that gratified Ledare more than she cared to admit.

Ruze scrambled to his feet and moved forward to bend over Draelond. Even the cleric's poor human eyesight couldn't miss the ashen color of the man's face and the pool of blood that was collecting beneath him. Clutching his holy symbol he laid a hand on the man's chest. "It's not much but it's the best I can do," he apologized as silver light blossomed beneath his palm. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the crossbow bolt from the man's chest and watched as the blood stopped flowing. His patient lingered near death, but Shahrizod had heard the Battleguard's orison and Draelond was no longer bound this day for Myrkul's dark realm.

Ruze stood and addressed Ixin in a hurried whisper. "Get Draelond out of here. I'll see to Ledare."

The mage nodded and immediately grabbed Draelond under the arms. She began to struggle ineffectually up the stairs with his weight.

"Who's got the tanglefoot bag?" Finian asked as he caught Ixin's eye.

"What?" she grunted.

"The tanglefoot bag that Rherram gave us! Where is it?!" His tone was exasperated.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she answered then added, "Help me get him out of here. I can't do it alone."

The spots in front of her eyes were thankfully diminishing, and Ledare managed to block another shortsword blade with her shield through sheer luck. The second stabbed into her abdomen, parting the chainmail there and biting deeply into the flesh beneath. The blow doubled her over momentarily before her knees unhinged and she dropped to the ground with a clatter.

Ruze's scimitars hissed free of their scabbards, all plans to convince Ledare to retreat put momentarily on hold as he sought instead to keep such a retreat possible. His first blow was turned aside by a shortsword. His second came in high, slashing across the toothy snout of the thing on his left. It let out a squeal so high and piercing that Ruze thought his teeth might vibrate out of his head. They struck back, but the cleric didn't even make an effort to block the attack, relying on his scalemail to protect him. Instead he focused on his own attack and thrust outward with both blades simultaneously. They pierced the creatures' hairy chests and erupted between their leathery wings. They fell to the ground and lay still.

Ruze lay his blades down beside Ledare and put his hand on her stomach. "Take the Queens' graces, Ledare," he prayed and her wounds stopped bleeding. "This is my last healing; let's not waste it."

He gathered up his swords and slung Ledare across his shoulders before huffing up the stairs toward the surface. Behind him he could hear a distant otherworldly keening sound echo against naked stone.

[Realms #215] The Better Part of Valor

The ranger was hunched over Draelond in the clearing outside the cave. Finian's hands worked feverishly to apply herbs and bind the fallen man's various wounds. Ixin stood beside him holding the Archer's longsword so that its pale blue glow played across the warrior's body. She glanced over fearfully at the sound of Ruze huffing out of the cave shouldering Ledare's steel-plated frame. After the stench of the lower caves, the night air smelled particularly sweet to the Battleguard.

"Lay her down here," Ixin suggested. "Finian can-"

"No," Ruze panted as he continued moving as quickly as he could toward the trail at the western edge of the clearing. "They're right behind-"

His last words were drowned out as a cloud of bats exploded from the cave mouth in a flurry of leathery flapping and high-pitched shrieks. They surged outward, enveloping the group and momentarily blotting out the meager light from Finian's sword. Then they took to the cloud-covered sky, circling overhead but making no overtly threatening actions. Their squeals and whistles were maddening.

Finian scrambled to shove his healing supplies back into their satchel. "Come on!" he said to Ixin. "Help me get him out of here!"



The bats showed no signs of following them and once they'd followed the dried riverbed a ways southward from the caves, they stopped long enough for Finian and Ruze to dress both Draelond's and Ledare's injuries. While they worked, Ixin had Martivir survey the area nearby from the air to make sure they weren't being followed.

"Don't worry yourself, Finian," Ruze said as they worked. "I think that was a good plan to throw the blinding things. Who would have known it would not have affected the bat creatures?"

"Thank you for your support," Finian said without looking up. Whether he felt responsible for their situation or not showed not at all in his voice. "It was a good idea, but it was too 'spontaneous' and in too close quarters."

Ixin's familiar drifted silently down from the cloudy sky and settled on the mage's broad shoulder. The owl hooted softly to the woman and she thanked him before turning to the others. "Marty says that we're alone apart from some 'food' - squirrels and the like."

"Good," Finian said, taking his waterskin and splashing its contents in Draelond's face. The warrior sputtered and stared around groggily. "Let's get moving. We should return to Rherram's with great haste and in the quickest manner possible."



Of course, with two comrades as injured as Draelond and Ledare, there was little hasty or quick about their journey. They picked their way along the trail with the warrior and the Janissary barely able to maintain a pace half as fast as the others. Martivir ranged ahead while everyone else stayed close to one another. The owl reported back that the three undead that Ruze had turned away with Shaharizod's power had returned to the clearing where they had first encountered them. The group wisely elected to bypass the clearing and return to Rherram's by a route further to the north.

Before they had exited the sparse woodland, it began to rain. The cold drizzle did nothing to improve the group's spirits and by the time they mounted the long slope at the edge of Rherram's property, they were soaked to the skin.

The courtyard in front of the healer's house was filled with miserable-looking people. Many of them were ordinary folk, who were enduring the rain and the hour dressed in shabby wet clothes, but their was a cluster of men in their midst dressed in splint mail armor and wielding longspears. Finian recognized them from his last visit to Strenchburg Junction as members of the Watch. The Watchmen stood around the door to Rherram's infirmary where two men were arguing.

"And I say again!" the larger of the two men shouted over the rain, "if you had gotten off your lazy arse and done something about those guild thieves when they first started-"

"There is no thieves guild in Strenchburg Junction!" the other man interrupted. His voice was strong and commanding and it carried clearly to the back of the crowd where the Companions stood uncertainly. Finian easily recognized the voice of Constable Boralle.

"No thieves guild that you are willing to break up, you mean!" the first man countered and there was a murmur of approval from the mob of men and women who stood watching the exchange. His voice was just as powerful as the Constable's and he was working the crowd. Ixin recognized him as the man she had met earlier that day at the tavern; it was he who had convinced her to venture out to find the kidnapped girl, Nilia.

"Are you accusing me of something, Tobrannon?" the Contable barked, his tone as sharp and deadly as a bear trap. "Because if you don't like the way the law works in the Junction, you're welcome to use another caravanserai!"

"I don't think that Mikal was accusing you of anything, Constable," a third man said from the doorway behind Tobrannon. The bearded man moved his bulk aside to reveal the speaker. Ledare's first thought was that the man was Mendel and her hand went unconsciously to the handle of her sword. But this man was taller and younger with a full head of lank hair.

"You don't speak for me, Gurnie," Tobrannon growled but before the argument could progress any further, someone in the crowd spotted the haggard Companions and gave a shout. In an instant, all eyes were on them.

Mikal Tobrannon's keen gaze spied Ixin and he began moving toward her. The crowd parted before his massive form like water at the prow of a sailing ship. "Ah! My champion!" he said loudly, gesturing at the tall woman. "What news do you bring of Nilia? Has she been found?" He looked about the group as if expecting the girl to be hiding behind one of them.

"Not yet," the mage replied. "But I-" Her voice faltered as murmurs and curses drifted through the crowd at Tobrannon's back.

"And what of this lot?" the big man wagged his beard at the Grey Companions. "Are they the ones responsible for these foul deeds?"

"Don't make yourself more the fool Tobrannon!" Constable Boralle spat as he forced his way to the larger man's side. The Constable studied the group with a shrewd eye. "Do you not recognize one of the king's own Janissaries when you see one." He indicated Ledare's worn tabbard which bore the symbol of The Realms beneath its many blood stains. Another murmur arose from the crowd at this new revelation.

Tobrannon seemed flummoxed; he clearly hadn't been expecting to find Ixin in the company of one of the King's elite fighters. He blustered for a moment and then managed, "What about the girl?"

Finian eyed the crowd and the two men in front of them. "Perhaps that's a tale best saved for inside," he suggested. "We are in need of Rherram's services."



"Carrion crawler brain juice," Rherram explained as he tended the group's wounds. "There are no lasting ill effects. It's pretty cheap as poisons go and easy enough to make if you've got the raw materials on hand."

"Over the years some of the local hunters have reported carrion crawlers in the woods southwest of town," the Constable added. From the description of the creatures, the group realized that the tentacled worms they had faced outside the cave were carrion crawlers.

"Even if it weren't magic what did me. It still weren't natural the way they just appeared like they did; like they just dropped down naked outta the sky," the lean man muttered from Tobrannon's side. His name was Den Lent - he and several others had been paralyzed during the raid that had seen Nilia kidnapped. She was the man's daughter and from the way that he clutched his steel-shod quarterstaff he planned to enact some measure of vengeance on whoever had taken her.

"Perhaps she was taken by these bat creatures we encountered," Ledare suggested. "They could certainly have flown over the walls of the caravanserai." Lent shook his head.

"What I seen before I went down weren't bats, missy," the man said. "It were men an' women naked as the day they was born 'ceptin' for the swords they carried on a belt 'round their waists.

"And it doesn't account for the undead," Gurnie reminded with a shudder.

"Yes," Constable Boralle admitted as he scratched his stubbly chin. "There does seem to be more to these goings on than a simple kidnapping. I'll notify the Baron and in the morning we'll look into it more closely." Tobrannon shook his balding head at the Constable's words and Den Lent's eyes flared with anger.

"Tomorrow?!" the man roared. "My daughter is still out there! What of her?!"

The Constable shook his head. "It is too dangerous for me to send my men out tonight - what with undead and who knows what all else ranging afield under cover of darkness. No, we'll look into it at first light and not before."

"Coward," Lent said as he turned and headed for the door. "I'll find her myself if I have to."

"I won't stop you," Boralle answered matter-of-factly. "But my duty is to the people of Strenchburg Junction. It won't serve them if their Watchmen are slaughtered on some ill-conceived attempt to rescue an outsider." Tobrannon sneered openly at Boralle and turned to follow Lent out.

"Every caravan that is extorted by thieves in town knows how much value you place on the well-being of outsiders, Constable," the man said and Boralle merely huffed in reply.

Fat Gurnie, looking uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed by the whole situation, wrung his hands and turned to follow the two men. He looked nervously at Ixin before stepping out into the rain. "Wha- Where are you staying tonight, m'lady?" he stammered, blinking his eyes several times. "There's plenty of room at my cottage if you..." His voice trailed off as his face suffused with color.

"Thank you, Gurnie," Ixin said with a smile that seemed to brighten the room. "But I think I'll be staying with the healer tonight."

"Oh," the man's face seemed to fall but he recovered quickly and waved it away. "Of course you will. You're hurt. How stupid of me to suggest- I mean where else would you stay? That makes perfect sense to me!" He hurried out the door after adding, "You know where I live, m'lady. My door is always open to you."

"You seem to have an admirer," the Constable said as the door closed behind Fat Gurnie. He regarded Ixin's vestigial horns and brilliant yellow eyes critically. The mage developed a bemused smile and shrugged her broad shoulders.

"It happens a lot," she admitted.

"Of course it does," Constable Boralle said. The tone of his voice seemed to suggest that Ixin's hold over members of the opposite sex might have more to do with witchery than it did with her inhuman beauty, but he quickly changed the subject rather than dwell on the implication. "I'm glad to see that you've made your way back to the Junction, Archer of the Green. The Baron will be pleased," he told Finian as he too crossed the room toward the door. There, he paused. "And one more thing," he began, "I'll be presenting the facts to Baron Wicaop. In the meantime, don't leave Strenchburg Junction until you get my say so."

[Realms #215a] Conspiracy Theories

"If I want to leave, I will leave," Finian said after the door had closed on the Constable. Ledare regarded the Archer quizzically.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"I think he was talking to all of you, Janissary," Rherram explained without looking up from his patient. He was working on the crossbow wound to Draelond's chest, and the warrior looked very pale as the healer slathered the puncture with salve. Ledare considered the man's words for a moment and then nodded.

"That could be," she admitted before turning her penetrating, if a little bleary, gaze on Ixin. "Why was that man, Tobrannon, surprised to see a Janissary, Ixin? Is there more to this than you are telling us?"

"No!" the mage asserted. "At least I don't think so... I only met the man for the first time earlier today."

"Not to butt in," Rherram interrupted, "but we don't see many Janissaries in Strenchburg Junction. Passing through, certainly, but not wandering around in the rain in the middle of the night. I could be wrong, but that may have contributed to Goodman Tobrannon's surprise."

Ledare thought on this possibility, all the while studying Ixin for any sign that the woman was lying. Ixin, for her part, seemed to honestly be going over the details that she knew for anything pertinent that she hadn't shared with the others. After a moment of this uncomfortable silence, Finian spoke up. "Perhaps the girl's father and the guard will want to go back to the caves with us tomorrow." he suggested then added, "I am concerned he will not wait."

"A valid fear given his apparent state of mind," Ruze said as he stripped off the last of his scale mail and let it fall heavily to the floor. "Why not go and try talking some sense into him?" The Archer nodded and turned to the Janissary.

"Ledare, come and help me," he said bounding to his feet and moving toward the door. "You can explain that we will help them tomorrow much better than I can."

"I am in no shape to do anything other than to find a soft bed, and rest," the half-elf told him with a wince of pain. She clutched her stomach. "Well, maybe a warm meal first... I feel like Ruze!"

The Battleguard chuckled wearily. "I don't think I'd make a very good meal just now, kitten," he jested. "Although I daresay that I've been tenderized quite thoroughly this night."

Finian hesitated at the door, ignoring the cleric's attempt at levity. "I want to stop Lent and tell him that we'll go back with him once we're healed," he said, his face conflicted. "I understand if he does not want to wait, but we should at least offer."

"Oh sh*t!" Ixin cursed suddenly and moved toward the door in a flurry. As she passed Finian she added, "Come on! We've got to try to stop him!" They disappeared out into the rain and as the door slammed shut behind them, Ledare turned and glowered at the Battleguard.

"There's something that Ixin's not telling us," the Janissary muttered and Ruze merely shrugged. She turned to Rherram and asked, "Why would anyone want this girl, Nilia? What else do we know about her?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," the healer told her as he finished up with Draelond. "Nilia travels with Goodman Tobrannon's caravan. Her father, Den Lent, is second in command. She's also very ugly - or so I'm told. I've never met her personally and I've heard nothing else of note about her. Perhaps Jisselleen has heard more."

At mention of the wetnurse, Ledare's expression grew darkly serious. "What news of the baby and Jisselleen?" she asked and Rherram waved away her concern.

"They've been asleep since before the caravaneers brought Den Lent in," the healer told her with a smile. "I checked in on them shortly before you all arrived and they were sleeping yet."



"I'm worried the creatures that dropped out of the sky are looking for me and are not related to your current problems at all," Ixin explained to Finian as the two hurried across the muddy yard toward the cart path. In the rainy distance, they could see the knot of townspeople moving down the hill that led toward Merchant's Way and eventualy southward into Strenchburg Junction.

"What?" the Archer asked. "Why would someone be looking for you?"

"Do you remember me saying that I was trying to get out of my old life?" she asked and the Archer nodded. "Well, I'm afraid that my old life wants to pull be back in. And with the possibility that the men and women that dropped from the sky with their swords may have been from the gang family I was in, I feel more responsible than ever for getting Nilia."

"Gang family?" Finian asked skeptically, having no idea what Ixin was talking about.

"They likely figured they could lure me out with an attack on an innocent," she said, her face growing angry at the thought. She bared her teeth in a dangerous grin as she added, "Well, they were right."

The two caught up to the group of peasants and stopped talking as they pushed their way onward through the throng. Before too long they spotted Tobrannon and Fat Gurnie and between them was Den Lent. Finian called out to him and the three men turned to regard them darkly.

"Ah... my champion." Tobrannon said the word as if it tasted bad to him.

"What do you want?!" Lent growled. His gray hair hung over his eyes in wet ropes.

"Sir, I would like to accompany you on your quest," Ixin said and Lent shook his quarterstaff at her.

"You had your chance, demoness!" the man sneered. "I don't need your help."

Ixin smiled, undaunted by Lent's gruff attitude. "It is possible I know these creatures that attacked the caravanserai and I may have some ideas about how they might proceed. I only want to help."

Lent's face softened at her words, but his eyes remained skeptical. "Really?" he asked cautiously.

"Really," Ixin said.


More to come...

[Realms #215b] Out of Our Hands

"I still don't know how you were able to convince Lent to wait until morning," Finian muttered to Ixin after they'd extinguished the lights in Rherram's infirmary. The night was seasonably warm, but after the thorough soaking that the group had endured - not to mention the loss of blood - they decided to stoke a fire in the hearth and the low flames now lit the room with a warm glow.

"I can be very persuasive when I need to be," the woman replied. Across the room, Draelond was breathing loudly in sleep's velvety embrace and the smell of salves and herbs hung thickly in the room, overpowering even the scent of burning wood. "When I told him I would be in significantly better shape tomorrow and would thus be in a better position to help him find his daughter, I don't think he could really argue."

Finian grunted his ascent and lay silently for a few moments before rolling over onto his side to face the sorcerer. "Ixin," he hissed. "Can you tell me a bit about dragons?"

The mage smiled, the firelight flashing off her teeth as she did so. "I can try, Finian. What do you want to know?"

"Well..," the Archer considered. "What powers do dragons have?"

Ixin chuckled softly and let out a sigh. "Finian, that would take all night and I'm tired," she explained. "Do you have anything specific in mind?"

"I've heard that dragons can dominate people," Finian replied after a pause. His hand went unconsciously to his auburn hair. "Is that true?"

"You mean mental domination? Like mind control?" Ixin asked and Finian nodded. "Yes, some dragons possess such powers, but not all do. Some of the lesser races are predisposed to such control; the dragons call them Kindred."

The Archer swallowed nervously in the dim light. "Do they like humans usually?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Ixin reassured him. "Dragons can breed with nearly anything, and humans are almost as prolific. They are well-matched to one another in that regard."

Finian swallowed again. "That's all they want them for? Breeding stock?"

"Well, no. That's not all," Ixin said. "But humans make useful servants for a dragon. And even a drop of dragon blood makes a human so much more powerful that they typically welcome the opportunity. My mother was fully half-dragon, but my father hadn't had a dragon in his lineage for three generations. He was Dragonkith but he looked entirely human."

"Dragonkith?" Finian asked.

"Mortals who bond themselves to a particular dragon or family of dragons. They gain a great deal of power over time as the bond deepens," Ixin said, stifling back a yawn. "There are many such paths that the lesser races follow in order to share a bit of draconic power. There are dragon warriors, dragon mages, dragon disciples... too many to mention."

Finian grunted his understanding and rolled onto his back. Ixin had almost drifted off to sleep when the Archer asked one more question: "Are red dragons evil?"

Ixin sighed. "If you mean are red dragons cruel, the answer is yes, many are. Dragons of any hue may develop a streak of cruelty. It is difficult for such proud creatures to avoid," she explained. "Dragons enjoy a special place in the world, Finian. Perhaps a quote from the Draconomicon will explain it better than I. In the Year of the Blessed Tears, Lord Iejiresjing of House Bloodtide said, Nothing compares to the power and majesty of dragonkind, and no other dragon compares to the power and majesty or the red dragons. Does that make sense?"

"Red dragons really see themselves that way?" Finian asked, trying to imagine Cynder's thought processes during their brief time together.

"They don't just see themselves that way; they ARE that way," Ixin clarified. "Dragons have existed since before the gods of the womb were born. And they remain second only to the gods in power. Is it any surprise that 'good' and 'evil' are just words to such as they?" Her voice resonated with the respect she held for her dragon ancestors as she spoke, but in his bunk where he lay quietly listening, Ruze felt his jaw clench. He knew in his heart that 'good' and 'evil' were much, much more than just words.


Freeday, the 9th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


"He doesn't look good," Ledare said with a note of concern in her voice. It was mid-morning.

"He isn't good," Finian told her, stroking Gordigan with the backs of his fingers. The duckbunny's furred side rose and fell with each shallow breath, but the strange animal showed no other sign of life. He was stretched stiffly atop Kirnoth's former bed in exactly the same spot that they had laid him the night before. In the gray light streaming in through the rain-spattered window, they could plainly see that the silver band of fur around Gordigan's throat had visibly faded. What that meant, no one was sure.

"I don't know what to do," the ranger admitted. "I can't get him to eat or drink. He's not responding like a normal animal."

"He isn't a normal animal," Ixin said. Martivir was perched on her left shoulder, regarding the others with his curious round eyes. "He's a familiar, which makes him inherently magical - linked inexorably to his master, Kirnoth."

"That doesn't bode well for Kirnoth, then," Ledare grimaced, looking at the cataleptic duckbunny.

"Actually, if Kirnoth were dead, then his familiar would have already become a free-willed beast. So the fact that Gordigan hasn't wandered off to live what ever sort of life such a creature as he normally lives is actually a good sign. It means that his master yet lives," the mage offered hopefully. "Of course, I don't know what his current condition means for your friend."

"Hopefully, we'll find out today," Finian said, giving Gordigan one last pat before standing up and resting his hands on the pommels of the longsword and dagger in his belt. "My priorities are getting Kirnoth and finding the girl. These are things we cannot come back to. Time is of the essence and Umba only gives us limited opportunities for some actions."

"Kirnoth's dagger?" Ledare asked, eying the pommel of Finian's knife. The Archer nodded.

"We should use his gear for rescuing him," he explained. "Kirnoth would have wanted that. Perhaps Ixin can "borrow" that spell book we took off that wizard in Othelwood. I saw it amongst Kirnoth's gear."

Ledare shot him a scathing look, but Ixin shook her head. "I don't need a book," she told him with a proud smile. "The dragonblood flowing through my veins fuels my magic."

"Well maybe it has a spell you don't-" Finian started to argue but a loud pounding on the door to the infirmary cut him off. Ledare crossed to the door and opened it to reveal a very wet Dent Lent clutching his quarterstaff and looking miserable. He wore a chainmail shirt and a traveller's cloak whose hood kept his face relatively dry despite the weather.

"I'm here to see Ixin," he said gruffly as he stepped in out of the rain and closed the door behind him. He was alone.

"Where are Tobrannon and the others?" Ixin asked and Lent just glowered at her for a moment.

"The caravan's moved on," he said at last, not meeting anyone's gaze. "There are schedules that have to be met - buyers who are waiting in Restenford for the caravan. I can catch up once I've found Nilia."

"So it's just you and us," Finian said and Lent nodded. Reaching into the pack at his hip, the man drew forth a scroll of vellum and offered it to Ixin.

"Gadge gave me this," he said as she unfurled the scroll. "He said it might be helpful in finding Nilia. He said you'd know what to do with it. It's some kind of magic."

Ixin squinted at the arcane symbols and formulae written in the precise, orderly hand of Torren Gadge but could make no immediate sense of it. She'd be able to decipher it with the use of Read Magic, certainly, and given enough time she might be able to without the use of the spell. She smiled and rolled the scroll tightly.

"You must thank Goodman Gadge for me when next you see him," she said and slipped the scroll into one of the many hidden pouches of her magical cloak. Lent nodded his assent.

There was another knock at the door then and the man took a step away from it. "That'll be the Watch," he said without preamble. "I noticed a watchman following me out here from town."

Again Ledare opened the door and this time revealed a dripping watchman. He was human, wearing splintmail armor and clutching a longspear in one hand and a wooden scroll tube in the other. He looked to be barely past puberty.

"Janissary?" he asked and after she nodded, offered the scroll tube to Ledare. "Baron Wicaop bade me bring you this."

The half-elf arched an eyebrow and hesitantly accepted the tube. It was sealed with the maroon wax symbol of The Realms; she unstoppered it and read the parchment inside:

Most honorable Janissary,

It is with mixed feelings that I receive news of your presence in my humble holdings. On the one hand, I am always eager to offer assistance and succor to one of His Majesty's chosen and am honored that I now have the opportunity to do so. But on the other hand, your presence is only made known to me at the same time that I receive the news that a crime most heinous has been perpetrated upon innocents who look to me for protection.

I am told by my trusted Constable that you are aware of the kidnapping which occurred last night and of the subsequent accusations of thievery and banditry levied by Goodman Mikal Tobrannon. As you might imagine both events trouble me greatly for they represent an obvious and direct threat to trade passing along the caravan routes north, south, and east.

It is therefore with a heavy heart that I invoke my right as the duly appointed representative of His Royal Highness, King Haermond VI and with the full authority of the Realms Council as provisioned in the Charter of the Enlightened to impress you into service for the good of both Strenchburg Junction and the Realm of Elcaden as a whole. I charge you with finding and dispensing justice upon the person or group responsible for the kidnapping of Nilia Lent and the harassment of the traders using the caravanserai.

You may report back to me when you have completed this task I have appointed to you.

May Ibrahil guide you, Janissary.

Lord Mayor of Strenchburg Junction, Baron Allan Wicaop"

[Realms #216] Back to the Caves

"Of all the swiving -," Ledare hissed then caught herself and addressed the Watchman in a calm voice. "Fine. Tell the Baron that I will report back to him forthwith."

"Janissary," the boy said with a curt bow before walking off into the rain. Ledare closed the door soundly behind him.

"Problems, kitten?" Ruze asked as he walked through the door from the adjoining living quarters. He held a steaming cup of tea in one hand.

"It's nothing," the Janissary said and waved the Baron's scroll dismissively. She glanced sideways at Lant before adding, "We'll discuss it later, Ruze."

The cleric nodded his understanding and sat comfortably on his bed. Lant ignored the man and turned to Ixin. "Can we go now?" he asked expectantly and the mage nodded.

"I've been trying to think of where the Claw might go," she explained as she coaxed Martivir into one of the extra-dimensional pockets inside her cloak. It was a tight fit, but one look at the weather outside was enough to convince the familiar to cooperate."I was thinking maybe into town to try to steal supplies." Finian shook his head at the suggestion and began gathering his gear to depart.

"I think the best course of action is to return to the cave to look for clues since it appears the girl was brought to the same place Kirnoth was," the ranger said.

"Nilia," Lant said darkly. "The 'girl' has a name. It's Nilia."

"Yeah. I know," Finian muttered. "Sorry." Lant snorted derisively and turned to Ixin again.

"Are you ready?" he asked and Ruze cleared his throat before she could answer.

"I fear we are following too many threads," the Battleguard said cryptically. "We are like the weaver with too many yarns; soon the cloth will be tangled."

"Huh?" Finian grunted and Ruze got to his feet, put down his tea and began to speak louder.

"It seems that no sooner are we on the scent of Chaos and nearer to ending its foothold in our realm than we are off again on a side errand," he explained. "I for one must remember my purpose to keep Chaos from its reign." Ruze dropped down from the raised platform and came to stand beside the lanky Den Lant. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Now, I cannot let a kidnapped girl go unnoticed, Goodman. Fear not," he told the man. "But I propose a plan with a beginning, a middle, and an end. We need to know when we are done, and may continue on to the overriding concern of Chaos."

"If'n you're plannin' on helpin' me find my daughter, mister," Lant said taking Ruze's hand of his shoulder and fixing the cleric with a stern gray eye, "then you'll know you're done when she's back with me safe and sound."

Ruze nodded and stepped away from Lant. "I propose we find the girl, keeping Kirnoth in mind along the way, and helping Rhem along the way if we may," the Battleguard went on. "Once we find the girl, we report here for healing needs, and continue our quest to rid the Realms of Chaos. What say you?"

"It seems a sound course of action, Ruze," the Archer said with a nod. "And don't forget that sometimes loose threads lead to the same knot. We just need to pick one and start following it."

"Since Finian is of the opinion that Kirnoth and this girl might both be in the caves somewhere, then I suppose that is to be our course," Ledare agreed. "Still, I insist that we rest and recover somewhat first. Otherwise, I personally will be of no help to anyone. My injuries still bother me."

"I can help in that regard," Ruze said with a proud smile. "My Queen saw fit to grant me many healing miracles last night when I performed the SulTuh. I won't have as many blessings to use during the course of the day, but I can start our journey off on a strong foot."

"Where do I sign up?" Draelond asked as he stepped through the doorway from Rherram's house, his face looking nearly as pale as the bandage on his chest.



"I still say we need to deal with those undead," Ruze complained again. They had bypassed the three bloated zombies that still mindlessly guarded the abandoned campsite on the forest's edge and the continued existence of the undead rankled the cleric's sensibilities.

"Fightin' corpses ain't gonna get my little girl back, mister," Lant muttered and peered down into the abandoned clearing. The man's gruff attitude was beginning to grate on the group, but in this case his words made sense.

"Until we find Nilia," Ledare told Ruze, "we need to conserve our strengths. And that means picking our battles."

"I understand the wisdom of your words, kitten," Ruze said. "But I won't feel very good about myself if some innocent runs afoul of the creatures."

"None of us will," Draelond agreed.

"We told the Constable about them," Finian said. "It's his job to get rid of them now." Lant and Ruze harrumphed in unison at the Archer's words and then scowled at each other. "I'm willing to scout ahead a little, but not much," Finian went on. "I do not want to get caught alone by anything."

"I'm fair to middlin' when it comes to sneakin' about," Lant said without looking at Finian. "I reckon I could go with ya."

"Okay," the Archer said, a trifle surprised at the man's offer. "The rest of you are too loud in all that armor. What about you, Ixin?"

The mage shrugged her broad shoulders. "I'm afraid skulking is not one of my many strengths," she admitted. "But when Marty is nearby, I do share some of his penchant for stealth." She opened her cloak and drew out the owl. Marty hooted softly and blinked at the dayight. "Oh, hush," Ixin told him. "It's only rain. It won't kill you to get a little wet."

[Realms #217] Ambush!

Finian looked down at the dark cave opening and the bloated horse corpse that lay beside it. The bodies of the two carrion crawlers that they had killed the night before were gone. "I'd sure feel a lot better about going in there with some more healing," the Archer said looking hopefully at the cleric, but Ruze just shook his head.

"Just take it easy and preserve your energy," the Battleguard told him. "I'm unwilling to venture into harm's way without some divine reserves. I'll not squander the blessings that Shaharizod showered on me when we might need them more later."

Finian scowled at that. "The stronger we go in the better, Ruze," he wheedled. "If-"

"Finian, we're all still hurting from last night," Ledare interrupted. Draelond and Ixin shared a guilty look since they had both been fully healed through Ruze's magic and Rherram's salves respectively. "There's little sense in arguing with Ruze about it. He knows his goddess' will better than any of us."

The Archer's scowl deepened and he shook his head in resigned disgust before turning away from the group to look back down into the clearing. "Fine," he grumbled.

"Don't be afraid, mister. I'll protect you," Den Lant said with a touch of mocking humor in his voice. Before Finian could retort, the lanky man stood and trotted down the hillside, his feet squelching in the mud as he went.

"Oh, he's real quiet," Finian quipped in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Ledare laid a hand on his shoulder before he could follow the older man down into the clearing.

"We hardly know this man," she cautioned, angling her head toward Lant. "Keep your wits about you." Finian nodded grimly and hustled down the slope, making a good deal less noise than Lant had.

"Go on," Ixin urged her familiar. "If you spot anything dangerous, get the fairy-born's attention and then come back to me." The owl hooted in reply and took reluctantly to the air, drifting silently down toward Lant and Finian.

"Fairy-born?" Ledare asked and Ixin nodded, indicating the Janissary's pointed ears.

"Isn't that what you half-sidhe are called on this world?" the mage responded innocently and Ruze stifled back a chuckle.

"Oh, Finian's going to love being called that," he said, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief.



"I can't make any sense of these tracks," Finain admitted with some reluctance as he stood and wiped rainwater off his face. "Something or someone moved those two carrion crawlers we killed, but I can't say where they moved them to."

Lant grunted in response and headed toward the cave entrance, grim-faced. Martivir, who was perched on a low branch of the nearest tree watched him go with his shiny yellow eyes. Finian shook his head again and went to follow. Once he'd made sure that there were no traps or enemies waiting for them in the uppermost cave, the Archer walked back out into the rain and motioned for the others to join them.

Draelond came first, followed by Ixin and Ruze, with Ledare bringing up the rear. The Janissary had her hand crossbow drawn and was watching and listening attentively for signs that anyone or anything might be following them or lurking amongst the trees nearby. She noticed nothing out of the ordinary, but couldn't quite shake the sense that something wasn't quite right. For her part, Ixin's magical blood made her aware of the presence of a magical power nexus nearby. If she hadn't been so wounded the night before, she couldn't have helped but notice it then. Her veins nearly thrummed with the chaotic currents of magic moving through the air around the cave.

When they reached the cave mouth, Ixin called for them to pause a moment. She closed her eyes, focusing on the raw magic flowing around her. She could sense the nexus pulsing within the cave somewhere, but couldn't quite get a fix on its location. It seemed slippery as if it were warded against her in some way. She couldn't anchor to it at a distance, and even more troubling was the fact that in such close proximity to a nexus point she'd be unable to even tap a ley line to boost her power. Disappointed, she opened her eyes and looked at the others.

"There's a source of magical power inside the cave," she explained. "If I can get close enough, I can use it to fuel my spells."

"Fine," Ledare said, unimpressed. Ixin sighed.

"If things get ugly in there, I can cast shadows and we will be able to hide," the mage whispered. "The problem will be we will also not be able to see each other. A better option might be for me to cast sleep. If we can find it, I can utilize the nexus to add power to that spell."

"That is a better solution, Ixin," Ruze told her. "The bat creatures seemed unaffected by the loss of their vision when Finian used the flash pellet on them. I believe they may have a form of blindsight."

"I can also cast magic missile if that seems like a good option," the sorcerer added. She flashed her claws and grinned. "And I can hold my own in hand-to-hand combat."

"Let's hope it don't come to that," Lant muttered from the shadows. "But if it does, I'm right glad you're on my side."



The upper chamber was as they had left it although Finian was able to determine that there had been a great deal of movement in the room. Bare humanoid footprints criss-crossed the chamber many times over and something - most likely the carrion crawler corpses - had been dragged down the narrow staircase that they had previously explored.

Again, Finian, Martivir and Lant ranged ahead, using the Archer's magic sword as a light source. They had just reached the bottom when Finian's boot snagged on a tripwire that had been rigged low across the foot of the staircase. No sooner had this registered to the Archer than a small clay jug tied to the wire smashed to the ground at his feet. He tried to leap aside to avoid being splashed by its contents, but was unable. Lant and Martivir had no opportunity to avoid the dark liquid either and both were splattered with it.

"Poison!" Lant hissed, but Finian didn't think so. The pungent, foul stench that wafted up from the puddle of fluid was strong enough to overpower the general midden-pit reek of the chamber beyond. It smelled like musk of some kind.



Martivir came fluttering up the staircase in a panic. His feathers were splotched with the liquid that had come from the small container, but he seemed unhurt. He alighted on Ixin's shoulder and hooted into her ear.

"A trap," she told Draelond and Ledare. "They've sprung some kind of trap and got splashed with... something. Something that doesn't smell very good." She turned her face away from her stinking familiar and blinked her stinging eyes.

"Great!" Draelond deadpanned as he unsheathed Ravager and headed down the stairs. Ruze followed close on his heels.

Ixin looked at Ledare and the Janissary pointed at the staircase with her crossbow. "You next," she said simply. "I've got the rear." Ixin nodded, drew her morningstar and started down toward the distant glow of the ranger's longsword.

Ledare heard movement behind her and looked around, trying to pinpoint its location. It didn't take her long. The gray light coming in from the mouth of the cave revealed a pair of carrion crawlers moving out of the cul de sac in which they had been feeding since the night before. Their pink tentacles flailed at the air a moment before both worms turned and headed straight for her. Apparently, they hungered for something other than carrion.



"I don't think it's poison," Finian cautioned, sniffing tentatively at his fingers. "But I still don't like the fact that-"

An arrow striking him suddenly in the chest cut off his words. A second slammed into left thigh, but he hardly noticed it; a cold sensation was spreading outward from the wound to his chest and it numbed him as it blossomed. Lant cried out as an arrow pierced his hand and Finian managed to half-turn his head toward the taciturn man before he completely lost the ability to move at all.

"Arr, you b*st*rds!" Lant wailed into the darkness as he yanked the quarrel from his bloodied hand. "What have you done with my daughter!?"

[Realms #218] Counterattack

There was no answer to Lant's fevered cries but a faint squeaking and the sound of crossbows being reloaded somewhere in the dark chamber ahead. At the sound, Lant began fumbling in the half-light to ready his own crossbow even as the thunderous clinking and jingling of Draelond charging down the steps drowned out his opponents' noise. The big warrior took one look at the unmoving Finian and the two crossbow bolts that were sticking out of him and stopped short. "By Ibrahil's vow," he hissed. "What happened?"



"We've got trouble in the rear!" Ledare yelled as she sidestepped away from the passage down and aimed her handcrossbow at one of the crawlers. Only Ixin was still within earshot, and she was too far down the stairs to offer immediate assistance to the outnumbered Janissary.

Before she could squeeze off a single shot, the crawlers were upon her, flailing at her with their rubbery pink tentacles. The tendrils did no real damage to the armored half-elf, but the clear mucous with which they were coated had an immediate numbing effect on her. She was able to fight off the first wave of paralysis that spread coldly through her body, but the next - and each one after - stiffened her muscles. Soon, she couldn't move or feel the lapping tentacles as they probed for openings between the plates of her armor. She stood there with an unvoiced scream trapped in her throat as she thought with horror about the horse they had seen being eaten by the crawlers when they first arrived at the caves.



More crossbow bolts streamed from the darkness. The first, Den narrowly avoided; he managed to twist aside at the last moment and it was deflected by his chain shirt. The second was clearly aimed at Draelond, but it struck the wall several feet above the warrior's head. The third struck Lant squarely in the right side of his chest, and even though his armor absorbed most of the damage, it still made him cry out involuntarily.He felt poison seeping into his blood, but managed to resist the effects.

He raised his crossbow and fired into the dark chamber ahead toward where he suspected at least one of his assailants stood. The quarrel sailed off into the darkness and clattered off stone some distance away.



Ixin raced back up the natural staircase and gasped at what she saw in the entry chamber. Ledare lay toppled over on her back with her crossbow pointed at the ceiling and her left leg raised as if she were taking a step. The two bloated green worms were pinning her to the ground, their tentacles sliding messily over her heavy armor while the small beaks concealed amidst the writhing mass snapped ineffectually at the air.

"Ledare, shield your eyes and I will cast Color Spray!" Ixin cried out. She reached into the folds of her cloak and the scroll she had 'liberated' from The Claw before she fled Highgate appeared magically in her hand. She unfurled it, her attention divided between the crawlers and the arcane symbols written on the vellum. "Fuco aspergo!" she intoned and the scroll was instantly consumed by eldritch fire. She pointed with her now empty hand and a cone of flashing color erupted from her fingers, bathing both carrion crawlers and Ledare in its disorienting radiance.

The two worms let out piercing wails of shock and one of them tumbled off of the Janissary's paralyzed body, clearly blinded. The other, however, regarded Ixin with malice in its shiny black eyes and waggled its mop of tentacles at her.



"It seems I just about patch everyone up and 'ere we go again with unmending everyone," Ruze grimaced as he came down the stairs and peered around Draelond at the paralyzed Finian. He grabbed the Archer's left arm at the elbow and tilted him over so that he could grab him around the waist. The action made the shadows cast by the Finian's longsword skew wildly. "We need to get out of this corridor," the cleric huffed as he dragged the half-elf behind Lant and Draelond, "else they will shoot us like kettlefish."

As if to lend credence to the Battleguard's assessment, another quarrel sped from the darkness and struck Draelond in the slab of muscle that was his right bicep. The warrior grunted with pain but resisted the numbing clutch of the bolt's venom. He pulled the bolt out of his arm and cast it aside.

Ruze turned his attention away from Finian's wounds and fished instead in the paralyzed ranger's pouch. "Draelond, I suggest a flamed attack," he said, producing one of the flasks of Alchemist's Fire from Finian's bag. "What say you hurl this their way?" Draelond took it and grinned before lobbing it out into the benighted chamber.

Being human, none of the three men clustered at the foot of the stairs could see much beyond the meager light of Finian's enchanted sword. The crossbowmen were somewhere beyond that radius, effectively hidden by the darkness that pressed in on the wan, bluish light. Like Den Lant, Draelond had gotten a general idea where one of the shooters must have been and it was toward this unseen spot that he threw the glass flask that Ruze had given him. Unlike Den Lant, Draelond's aim was true.

The flask shattered against the hirsute belly of the creature that stood reloading its weapon in a narrow opening almost directly across the chamber from where the three humans were clustered. At once, the creature's torso was limned in a nimbus of flame that illuminated its inhuman rat's face and the membranous wings that sprouted from its back. It shrieked in pain, dropped its crossbow and began beating frantically at the flames.

"Now I gots you!" Lant growled and raised his crossbow.

[Realms #218a] Counterattack II

"Ledare is down! We have to get out of here," Ixin shouted and Martivir took to the air at the sound of her voice. The owl flapped his wings twice and spiraled upward toward the ceiling. The carrion crawler that hadn't been affected by Ixin's spell turned its head toward the familiar and reared up to clutch the bird with its tentacles. Martivir was out of its reach, but he continued to draw the worm's attention away from Ixin.

"Good boy," Ixin whispered and began to draw on the manna in her blood.



Lant squeezed off a deadly accurate shot with his crossbow. The bolt perforated his flaming target's guts, sinking up to the fletchings a thumb's width below the creature's ribs. It wailed in agony and Lant hooted and cast the crossbow aside. Before he could snatch up his quarterstaff and charge into melee, however, the winged rat man convulsed once and expelled his arrow whole from its body.

"Myrkul's bones," Lant gasped, his eyes going wide at the sight. "What manner of pit-spawned beast is this?"

It was a happy coincidence of pure chance and poor aim that that allowed him to avoid the bolt that was fired at him from the darkness.

"Drae, I have to say your aim has finally paid off, now go off and take care of that thing before it puts itself out," Ruze intoned, nodding once across the chamber where the burning creature continued to beat at its flames. "Den, follow Drae and dispatch the front. I will to the rear and check on the ladies who I now notice aren't with us. Go, quickly while we have the element of surprise!"

Draelond nodded, feeling the power of Ruze's words as they inspired in him a confidence that he hadn't felt a moment before. He had nobility of purpose and the moral conviction of a god's blessing on his actions. How could he fail?

"Drae. Dent. Know that I have faith in you both," the Battleguard added, further fueling the warrior's swell of morale as Ruze made a gesture of benediction. "I know you wilt not let the front crumble."

With a bellow of confidence, Draelond turned and charged into the chamber with Ravager held high. The firelight glittered wickedly along the bastard sword's jagged edge.



Ixin gestured with both hands, urging the magic toward the carrion crawler and shouted the word that would activate the spell, "Sopio!" The crawler fell forward unceremoniously and began to snore loudly into the mud and Ixin slumped back briefly against the cave wall.

Martivir hooted softly and fluttered down onto the mage's outstretched hand. "Thank you, my good boy," Ixin cooed to the owl. "I know the smell is awful. Can you tell what it is?" The owl hooted back to her and she frowned. "Oh well. No matter. I need you to stay calm. Are those two carrion crawler things the only ones around?" Again Martivir hooted into her ear. "Well, that's some good news for a change."

Ixin sighed and stood up, holding open her cloak with her free hand. "Time for you to get back into your pocket," she urged. "It's too dangerous out here and I won't risk losing you." The owl hooted his relief and vanished into the folds of her Cloak of Many Pockets. Ixin frowned then at the two carrion crawlers - one blinded and the other asleep - and grimly readied her morningstar for the messy work ahead.

"I knew no good would come of these caves," she grumbled.



The winged skaven had just about extinguished the alchemists fire when Draelond reached it. Ravager descended in a vicious arc that entered the creature on the right shoulder and exited above its left hip. The two halves of its smoldering torso slid wetly apart from each other and fell to the ground at the big warrior's feet. The sound of a crossbow firing somewhere very close reached Draelond's ears over the pounding rush of his own blood, but with the echoes and the clinking of Den Lant behind him he couldn't tell for certain from which direction it came. Draelond turned to see Lant approaching with Finian's glowing sword in his hand.

"Our chance at surprise is ruined," Lant said with a tone of annoyance as he held up the sword. "I thought that we might as well see the... Sweet Flor!" The man came up short when he saw the remains of Draelond's opponent. What had looked like a hairy winged rat man before now appeared to be a naked man with swarthy skin and a number of intricate tattoos across his chest and along his arms.

Before they could reflect more on this, the sound of rushing footsteps reached their ears.



"Hmm. This is quite the situation," Ruze said as he mounted the last step and entered the earthen-floored upper cave. He looked first at the paralyzed Janissary, and the blind carrion crawler mewling on the ground beside her and then at Ixin's bloodied morningstar and the dead crawler she stood over. "Ixin, good work," he said, even as he clutched his holy symbol in one hand and knelt beside Ledare. He touched her on the elbow and muttered, "Shaharizod, your strength of will I need to borrow. Lend it to my lady."

All at once, Ledare felt sensation return to her body and she quickly rolled away from the worm rooting around beside her. Ruze helped her to her feet and showed her his flask of alchemists fire. "This should do the trick," he said with a grin but Ledare shook her head.

"Save it," she told him, holstering her hand crossbow and drawing her silver-iron longsword in one fluid motion. "The thing's practically helpless." To illustrate her point, she stabbed her sword into its side and the aberration squealed in agony and flailed its tentacles impotently. Two more quick hacks ended its blind torment.



Lant turned toward the sound of approaching feet just in time to catch a crossbow bolt in the side. He started to cry out in pain, but the envenomed arrow quickly cut off control of his lungs. He stood frozen at the tunnel mouth - clutching the glowing longsword in an ironic parody of Finian before him. Draelond rushed around him and stabbed Ravager into the chest or the crossbowman - or woman, in this case - who stood in the chamber beyond.

She let out a wheezing hiss that would have been a scream if her furry chest hadn't been bisected by four feet of saw-toothed steel. The crossbow fell from her nerveless talons and she clutched weakly at Ravager's bone inlays for a moment before the breath of Flor left her and she fell to the ground. Draelond had only a moment to gape in wonder as her inhuman flesh twisted and ran into a very human - and very dead - shape. The woman was dirty and battered, but her features were delicate, almost elven; her bright green eyes stared blindly at the wall.

Another crossbow bolt whistled from the dark tunnel behind him, narrowly missing Draelond's head. He whirled to see another of the winged skaven standing at the curve of the tunnel, but this one wore a sickly green robe trimmed in filthy brown. A bilious yellow belt cinched its waist where was hung a sheathed shortsword. It regarded Draelond briefly with its inscrutable black eyes and bared its fangs before turning and scuttling off into the shadows that clotted beyond the light from Finian's sword.