The Gate Pass Irregulars: A War of the Burning Sky Campaign

Finally kept up. Great tale!

Thank you.

You have four SHs going at the same time? How on earth do you manage that? My hat is off to you.

There will be a few more SH from me soonish.

Our campaigns have detailed notices, sometimes including who made what joke and so on, or the "dear mom" letters in the Mommy's Elf one. So about 1/4 of it is taking that and put it in writing.

Also, I do those SH as much to motivate the groups than to tell a story, so they get to help, if only with a list of keywords for their journals and characters Stupid PC behavior has gone down a LOT since certain players know it will be read by someone

Ah, I see the advantage. Better play due to possible ridicule; and of course the players can also remember the details of games.

In our case, it was pretty much self-preservation. Our group meets fairly irregularly (thereby the rather bad play on words - The Gate Pass Irregulars) and we can have quite large gaps between games. No matter how hard we try, we forget things during the lengthy gaps. In previous games this forgetfulness sometimes led to deaths and often to missing out on important information that could have made our life much easier. So, some years ago, we played through the Drow Wars campaign and I was determined that we wouldn't mess up due to lack of remembrance of some obscure bit of information that we had been given. So I began doing these accounts which have now become a tradition.

After what we had achieved in the Forest, there were a couple of days in which we basked in the euphoria of our accomplishments. I think I became a little tiresome as I asked so many questions about what everyone felt about their achievements, how they would impact the Forest, what they thought Indomitability was, their perception of the Trillith and their reaction to the various miraculous sights we had seen and deeds we had done; I was surprised at how differently everyone had perceived and interpreted various aspects of our adventures, which in turn initiated discussion within the group about everyone’s thoughts and ideas. Tiresome or not, at least this helped to clarify events and avoid possible misunderstandings; never a bad thing.

Felix and Longhelim answered my questions with good nature and grace, Slippery John would tell me outrageously obvious lies and he would invariably do it with a totally straight face until he broke up in laughter and would then ask me questions such as:

“Seriously, you are not going to write that down, are you?”

Really, it was quite aggravating.

Victor and Drudge were obviously a little uncomfortable talking about themselves and said as little as possible. Torrent spoke as if she had expected nothing less of us while Crystin would often follow me about as if she wanted to remember everything, although I never saw her take any notes. I would often consult her about certain things some people said and found that she had a very good memory. This was extremely helpful.

Tiljann just talked about the world outside of the Forest and how eager she was to see it.

I was using all of these answers and comments to try to put together as accurate an account of what had happened as I was able. It was as I was writing it down that I realised one important fact: This journal could be quite dangerous; not only to us but also to Gate Pass and the people who had helped us. For example, if it fell into the wrong hands such as the Ragesians, portions of the narrative could be problematic for council man Erdan Menash; they stated quite clearly that he had helped spell casters evade the Inquisition. I did not mean to flatter myself that the scribbling of an obscure dwarf were certain to fall into the hands of the Ragesians or even be of much interest to anyone except possibly my family, but at the same time, it was not a risk I was willing to take; therefore, I decided that this journal would be best kept to myself for the time being.

As I mentioned previously, it took a couple of days to traverse through the forest. The path was now quite clear and the whole area was deserted. Here and there we saw corpses of charred creatures, which had obviously been burning but with the expulsion of Indomitability, they had lost whatever fell curse had gripped them and had finally been consumed by the fire.

As we emerged from the last of the burnt remnants of the Forest, we saw that we had arrived at the edge of endless, grassy plains; it was the first time anyone of us had seen such vast, flat lands where one could gaze seemingly for miles and we stared in wonder for some time, lost in the distance and our thoughts. All of us were entranced by this totally new landscape but no one more so than Tiljann; even more than us, she had been confined to a small enclave for all of her life. In the days ahead, she would periodically continue to stare into the distance and we would often have to keep her from darting off our trail to examine some strange flower, plant or stone.

It had also begun to rain. However, this did not dampen our spirits. I was still amazed at our achievements and glad to be alive; and it was infinitely better than walking through fire.

At this point, I asked Torrent a few things about the next stage of our journey, which she was happy to answer:

First of all, she told us about Dassen, the kingdom that we were about to enter. It was an ordered, peaceful land with a King named Steppengaard, who ruled together with eight other potentates, many of whom were related to him somehow. These Lords and Ladies had enormous holdings throughout the whole of Dassen, which made up the country. I asked her if the Ragesians had ever invaded it or attempted to conquer it but she was not able to answer me. Torrent had many strengths but history was not one of them.

Seaquen, our destination, was at the far southern end of the country on the tip of a peninsula, jutting out into the sea. It had been a sleepy fishing town until Headmaster Simeon of the Lyceum, the Academy of Magic, had issued his famous rallying call to all who would resist the tyranny of Ragesia; that had put it immediately on the map so to speak. The only other thing I had heard about it myself was that the Lyceum was the only place that was aware of and practiced Gabal’s techniques of spell dueling.

Torrent said that there was a swamp outside the city that we would have to cross. She didn’t know much about it as when she had left the Seaquen in the past, she had done so by ship, bypassing this hazard. She knew that it was called Sour Lake Swamp. She also told us that the Lyceum was ruled by a Council. Finally, she mentioned that she had a mentor who lived in Seaquen so at least we had a contact in the city.

She added that it would take the best part of month to reach Seaquen, providing there were no mishaps during the journey.

With the exception of the rain, which became generally irritating, the initial part of the journey was uneventful. Everyone took advantage of this quiet period to practice their skills or learn more magic. Most of the evenings we would set up a large communal lean to; it was not completely water proof but it did keep the majority of the rain at bay.

I would update this journal and I also spent a great deal of time thinking about new magical directions. Our activities in the Fire Forest had opened my mind to a whole new realm of magic and different types of spells. In the desperation of our battles against Indomitability and its cursed creatures, I had not been able to follow my ideas but now with more time at my disposal, I was able to think things through as I walked during the day. Quite often in the evenings, I would ask Crystin or Tiljann to help me with various ideas and concepts. Felix amazed me when he said that he had been given the power of flight by his God. It was a true miracle but as soon as I saw it, I realised I could do it as well; what had seemed impossible to me previously, was now something that I could do with the correct magical formula; and that was just one spell. Suddenly, I felt that there was a huge amount of potential and scope in so many aspects of magic; and I would have to begin exploring these new aspects as the counter spelling ability of the Inquisitors was frightening.

Crystin was also able to grasp these formulae to an extent but her magic seemed to be of a more immediate and instinctive type although it was also arcane. Tiljann’s magic seemed to be more based on music and song as opposed to magical formulae but the effects she achieved were often similar, again if more limited in scope. Her songs definitely had power though.

However, neither of them had the slightest knowledge of Gabal’s specialization, that odd ability to disguise both the nature and the timing of a spell’s release, to confound an enemy caster. That was something I practiced assiduously, especially after my meeting with the Inquisitor.

A surprising guest in our little group discussing magical theory was Slippery John. In the beginning, I wondered just what John had in mind but he evinced genuine interest in the subject and more importantly, he had an instinctive grasp of the subject which was extraordinary. He even borrowed my spell book and began to learn spells from it. It was astounding.

The two warriors also spent the time constructively. Victor began to get used to his new sword. It was made of wood so it was a very different weight from his previous metal one and he had to become accustomed to this variation. I hoped that this period would not be as painful as the torrid time he had experienced when he changed weapon to a falchion gifted to him by Councillor Menash.

Longhelim and he sparred each morning and evening, honing each other’s skills. Often they would stop in the middle of a bout, as they would show each other various stances, cuts and parries. At the end of each of these bouts, they would perform a series of exercises. Victor told me that they were known as “forms” and that they were used mainly to develop something called “muscle memory”. The idea was for the body to be able to react to a series of physical circumstances without conscious thought. I never realised that being a warrior was so…..complicated.

It was instructive watching their activities as I was also thinking about various magical spells to help them. Certainly, I could possibly do something to make their weapons more effective and of course give them various defences, but there were also more interesting aspects to combat magic that I was beginning to formulate in my head.

I already had one spell which I felt, they would consider hugely useful. I would save it as a pleasant surprise for them.

Drudge often joined the warriors in their swordplay but each evening, he would construct a target and practice with his bow. He would usually ask someone to watch where the arrows fell if they missed but that was a rare occurrence. His accuracy was prodigious; he would shoot his bow on the move, or his hands blurred and it looked as if several arrows left his bow almost simultaneously, thunking into the target, ominously close to each other.

Torrent and Felix spent quite a bit of time together, meditating and discussing the nature of faith and their different beliefs. In general they tended to agree but they differed on the details. Felix was now manifesting several very interesting powers granted to him by his God, Farlanghn. One of his most important ones was a newly acquired ability to conjure a filling meal for us each morning that seemed to last all day. He produced a great deal of this food but unfortunately, it would not keep more than a couple of days but it allowed us to travel quickly and efficiently rather than having to forage in the countryside which would have slowed us considerably.

So, the time passed remarkably quickly. Initially, we followed the mountain range which formed the border with the Shining Lands of Shahalesti and this ultimately became a coastal road. When we reached the beginning of that route, it was the first time I had seen the sea and at first I found it quite intimidating. Such a vast body of water, terrifying and mysterious……Torrent however, breathed the air and told several stories and myths associated with the ocean. One could tell that, being a water cleric, she was glad to be so close to such a huge body of her element. Everyone else looked at it like I did except for Tiljann. We had to tell her that no, unfortunately, we did not have the time to go to the shore and have a swim; and that the weather was very inappropriate for this pastime at the moment.

Speaking of the weather, more and more rain storms swept south. Drudge kept looking at them and muttering. He spoke briefly to Torrent and she shook her head. I asked what was bothering him:

“This rain; it’s been going on for too long. I wondered if our putting out the Fire in the Forest had anything to do with it but Torrent doesn’t think so. Still, I have never seen anything like it.”

He then moved on, still muttering.

Then, as our journey was getting to its last leg, we began to see more people on the road. They were the wrong type of people as well. Men, women, children, families of all ages, here and there someone pulling a small cart, all laden with possessions. Obviously they had left their homes. The story was always the same. It was war! And the Ragesians were coming; and when they did, they would sweep down like the wolf on the fold. Seaquen was offering sanctuary and they would get there before they were killed.

No one was quite sure where or when Leska was coming, just that she would. I was beginning to wonder just what this miraculous refuge offered by Seaquen actually was. Looking at the queues of people, whatever it was, I just hoped it was big.

We normally travelled a little faster than these groups as they would have children and oldsters among them but they varied hugely in race and size. Generally, it looked as if whole communities had decided to leave their homes and head south.

As we travelled in that direction, we did come across one interesting sight. One night, we approached a wheat field that had obviously been partly burned. It had also been trampled and there were still the remains of a battle. Drudge went into the field and had a good look around. He told us about the remains of the battle; some of the corpses were in Ragesian uniform and strangely, their boots contained soil; this was something for which Dassenian warriors were most famous for; a superstition that no matter where they were, they wanted to be in contact with the soil of their Fatherland. The Ragesians seemed to also have the same belief, if the corpses were anything to go by. There were also signs of a group of riders moving away from the field; probably the winners of the skirmish.

We moved on and finally, one day at dusk, reached the first signs of some sort of settlement. A sign stated:

“Vidor: Population 65: Last stop before the Swamp. Gear up before the Dangers of the Swamp.”

As we proceeded, we saw a mish mash of tents, wooden huts, sometimes a mixture of the two, straddling both sides of a muddy track leading south. There were a few building further to the sides; and it was full of people, most of them refugees begging for money, food, wood, anything. There was a great deal of noise, with babies crying, shouting, insults and generally a bad atmosphere. There was a very unpleasant air of desperation throughout this Vidor.

As we entered, it quickly became clear that the owners of these aforementioned establishments had set themselves up here to fleece the refugees of as much money or possessions as possible. The only way to cross the swamp was by boat and the boats were…..expensive; especially as there was a separate price for the oars and the poles and the carriage to the swamp.

When we learned this and inquired about the price of a boat, “expensive” was not quite the word Longhelim used but we all realised that it was a seller’s market. No matter what we thought, we had to bite our tongues; it was a good lesson in human nature.

We set up a camp nearby and then went once more into the tents and huts. Rumours and tales were rife. A recent arrival had caused quite a stir: a striking, beautiful red-haired woman had come into the camp, peremptorily hired two bodyguards and had walked off towards the swamp. Everyone thought she was insane. Why, everyone knew how dangerous the swamp was, full of wild beasts and other, darker things. Apparently the only thing that would guarantee your survival would be these real, magical ivory necklaces, remarkably cheap for what they are; honestly they would save your life. Oh, and we would also need a map to know where we are going. They were very cheap for what they were, too. We took a look at some of these maps; interesting how they all seemed to be different.

The red-haired woman did sound honestly interesting though. Rantle’s sister, Katrina was red-haired. If that was who it was, we had some mail for her.

Finally, apparently there was a remarkable collection of spell casters of all types making their way to Seaquen which was not at all surprising. I did not see any myself but I suspect that had I evinced an interest vocally then several of them would make themselves known to me immediately and that I would be charged just for talking to one of these individuals; very reasonable rates of course.

Having wondered around, listening to all the stories, we determined that before we decided to spend any of our money, we would have to go to the edge of this swamp ourselves just to see what exactly we did need to cross it.

Having decided that, we retired for the night with the exception of Slippery John, who had not returned with us. When he finally returned during the night, he was quite surly and took his boots off in a savage manner.

“Hullo John. What happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”.

And with that, he went to sleep.

The next day, we set out and travelled on the road to the edge of the swamp. When we finally reached the edge of Sour Lake Swamp, even my inexperienced eye could see that we would need a boat to cross it. A myriad of waterways, most of which seemed quite shallow, wound their way through small islets, some of which even had the odd tree or two. However, the distances between these tiny banks of land were irregular and it was impossible to say which ones were firm and which were made of mud. There was no help for it; we would have to return and get price gouged for boats.

We camped out and the next morning trudged back into Vidor in the pouring rain. As soon as we returned, we went to the boat maker. We made little small talk; we didn’t like him and he could feel that; we were in no mood to bargain and we thought it unlikely that he would have been receptive anyway. It was obvious that he could sell more boats than he could make.

We camped out again and the next morning, we collected our three boats and set out again; as previously, we didn’t engage in any conversation with any of the “business owners” in Vidor. It was fairly obvious what kind of people they were and that they thrived on and were making a lot of money from the misfortune of others, even potentially condemning them to death at the end of a Ragesian spear. If they were comfortable with that, well, that was between them and their consciences but we had no time for them.

We reached the edge of the swamp at dusk and camped for the night. Then the next day, we set out. Each boat could carry three people so we decided that the warriors and the priest would go in one; Faden, Crystin and Torrent would go in another while Drudge, John and Tiljann would go in the last. We tied the boats together and carefully, with a mixture of poling and rowing, began to traverse the swamp.

It was not a very hospitable place. It was the first swamp I had ever seen and I did not really care for the experience. It often smelled funny and here and there, we could see huge lizards with large mouths and very big teeth looking at us; Drudge said they were crocodiles and that they were extremely dangerous. They looked it.

Once in the distance, we also saw a flock of black birds or I think that they were birds. They could also have been something else but if I was correct, I didn’t even want to think about it. We also saw several holed boats on our travels; I hoped that it was just inferior boat building as opposed to something attacking them. Thankfully for us, nothing attacked us and as we reached the evening, Drudge was able to find a sizeable island where we were able to set up camp.

We landed, dragged the boats up the land and went through our usual routine before we went to bed. Then, Tiljann woke me up during the night and as I raised my head, I saw a cloud of fog with a light inside floating towards us from across the water. I had no idea what it was but it didn’t look friendly.

As I woke up, I could hear strange, compelling, eerie singing which suggested I look at the water and then go swimming. I shrugged off this strange compulsion and stood up to see what was happening.

Victor had already reacted and had joined Longhelim at the edge of our island, both looking intently into the mist. John stood and looked at the water, entranced. The song had obviously affected him. Tiljann had woken me while Drudge, Crystin and Torrent still slept, oblivious despite the shouting. Then the mist dissipated.

What it revealed was quite…..unusual. A small boat floated towards us; it had a crew of two: one woman in a striking green dress with red hair and wielding a fiery staff; another woman, this one with a pole guiding the boat and wearing a blue robe. The boat was decorated with several humanoid skulls, suggesting that diplomacy was not an option for us at this time.

In the next few moments, both of them stood and skillfully cast spells as the boat continued to float towards us but whatever they had done, it was just ignored by the group with the exception of Drudge, who having recently woken, cursed. I did not know what had happened to him but at least he was still conscious and moving.

Moreover John was now free of his entrancement as the two women on the boat had stopped singing.

I had seen enough. I moved forward slightly and cast one of my new spells. It was a famous spell; really, all it did was speed up the recipients, making them faster and more nimble. Warriors loved it for the simple reason that it gave them a huge advantage in combat as they were able to swing their weapons much faster than normal and allowed them to dodge enemy blows.

Not a moment too soon. As soon as I finished the spell, a shape burst from the water and threw itself at me. It was an enormous crocodile, the lizard like animal Drudge had pointed out to us as we travelled through the swamp; he said they were extremely dangerous. This one took a huge chunk out of me with its jaws and then tried to grab and drag me to the water, so I was able to concur with his description. Somehow, I shrugged it off, probably because it was still chewing the part of me it had bitten. Then, to make matters even better, another shape came out of the water, an ugly woman with little clothing but a very large dagger. She had been swimming with the crocodile; she sprang up and stabbed me. It hurt.

I managed to take another quick look around and saw that Longhelim was now standing and fighting on the boat with the two women, who were swinging their weapons at him. Victor had sped to the crocodile and hit it so hard that it drew its attention. It snapped and hissed at him, obviously badly hurt. I was too busy moving away to see what anyone else was doing but it concerned me that I couldn’t see any arrows flying from Drudge nor was there any sign of John.

I tried to aim a ray of fire at the crocodile but I was nervous of hitting Victor and over compensated. The bolt missed. Then the crocodile bit me again and everything went black.

I was brought to consciousness by a prod on my back and things were bad. The air was full of smoke, very nasty smelly stuff that somehow managed to get into my mouth, nose, ears and eyes. I was blind. I could nothing but try to expel it from my head. That was what consumed me. This feeling lasted quite some time; finally, this illness ended and then I found that I was held in place by a sticky, strong, magical substance. I could barely move until Drudge came forward with a torch and burned out the stuff around me. With great relief, I rolled out of the nasty gunk.

I looked around. As I watched, I saw that Victor was also recovering from the choking smoke. He looked pale, shaken and had vomited over his front; mind you, so had I when I was in the smoke. Torrent, Crystin, John and Felix were all still trapped within the viscous stuff and looked just as bad; Drudge and Longhelim continued to burn it away patiently. Finally, everyone was freed and as healing was done, I was able to piece together what had happened.

Not for the first time, Longhelim was a true hero. Victor had managed to deal with the crocodile and its ally very quickly; he hit the lizard and then struck the woman such a perfect blow that she collapsed, almost decapitated. Then, however, a negating magic was cast which cancelled the speed effect I had put on him. To add to this, as he moved to help Longhelim, another spell was cast on him which he said was the equivalent of his worst nightmares come to life and the only thing he could do was to try to get away from them. Longhelim explained that this was a spell of unnatural fear; as a holy warrior he was immune but it could affect almost anyone.

Then the woman in green cast another spell creating the nasty, viscuous mass which shot out of her hand and settled on the encampment, entangling almost everyone. She then topped it off by casting the noxious cloud of smoke on the area which incapacitated everyone as they had to stay in it. It was a messy, nasty spell. All of these were more magical effects which I could understand in theory but I had never met a practitioner who had skill in them.

That had only left Longhelim to fight the two women; he mentioned that the woman with the blue robe had disappeared and that the woman in the green dress kept healing the wounds he inflicted on her, but he finally managed to defeat both of them, having survived several magical attacks.

Longhelim told us that the blue robed woman was still alive and that she had disguised herself. Rather than a blue robe, she had in fact been wearing full plate armour. Curious, I approached the fallen and now they were unconscious or dead, their features were quite different; I recognized the enemy as tieflings, a race of outsiders with demonic connections; Longhelim immediately labeled them as evil. The blue robed or armoured woman to be correct, although unconscious, was still alive. I had little desire to talk to her. She would only lie to save her life. They seemed like a trio of common bandits taking advantage of their abilities, especially the woman with her pet crocodile, who was probably some kind of warrior, bearing in mind how good she was with that dagger. I shuddered to think how many people they must have killed while they stalked the swamp. The decorations on their boat bore testament to their activities.

Longhelim then mentioned that the wizard in green tried to surrender but when the paladin attempted to strike her unconscious, she sought to strike him back, an action which drew retaliation; Longhelim also said that during her initial surrender attempt, she shouted that they had a prisoner but he added that she did not sound very convincing and could have been just saying that as a ploy.

Felix, Torrent and John administered further healing to everyone. I would have preferred to move but we did not have that option unless we were prepared to travel in the dark which was not advisable.

As we settled, Victor came up to me and spoke quietly:

“I am not sure how or why, but when the crocodile bit you and you fell, you burst into flame as if we were still in the Fire Forest; you also didn’t bleed from your wounds; I don’t know what it means but just so you know. Oh, and that speed spell you did?.....Longhelim and I both thought that it was…..tactically very advantageous.”

Later, as I was thinking about his comment, I smiled; “tactically very advantageous?” Heh, that was Victor speak for “please do it again”!

Now that Crystin was awake and free, she was eager and enthusiastic to learn what had happened. She was suitably horrified about the tiefling bandits, calling them several nasty names and using some words which she had almost certainly picked up from Longhelim. I recognized them. I am not sure if she quite knew what they meant though. Then she was distracted by a book which we had found on the tiefling who cast arcane magic.

“Oooh, let me see! Let me see!”, taking the book she opened it, blinked and then cast a spell that allowed her to read the magical script.

“Faden, look, look, here is a spell that allows you to make people’s nightmare’s come true; well not really but it does make them run away, scared to death; here is another that produces a sheet of flame from the user’s hands! Here’s the one that makes the poison smoke! This book is full of spells!”

Continuing like this, she reeled off a series of magical formulae which were mostly beyond her but comprehensible to me. The book was a treasure trove of magic! It was unbelievable! Spell after spell after spell. I will not bore the reader with a detailed description of all the formulae in this tome but suffice it to say that to me it was priceless. Slippery John was as glad as I, bearing in mind his new interest in arcana.

We also inspected several potions we found on the armoured tiefling, probably a priest of some sort according to Longhelim. I inspected them carefully, tasted a very small sample and then had to do it again just to confirm. After that, I was sure; there were four Elixirs of Love. These were magical but they were childish pieces of magic; sold to individuals for dubious purposes, mostly at places like fairgrounds. It was not a branch of magic that attracted me. Why on earth was she carrying them?

We had a brief discussion. Although the wizard had mentioned a prisoner, the chances of finding said individual in the swamp was impossible. Not even Drudge, who was an accomplished outdoorsman, felt any confidence in searching the swamp. We also debated the wisdom of taking the armoured woman as a prisoner. The guilt of the three bandits was manifest by fact that they waylaid us in the middle of the night with murderous intent and the decoration of humanoid skulls on their boat. It was unlikely that those were volunteered.

Then John said: “Come on, people! It’s obvious! We feed her the Elixirs and make sure that Longhelim is the first person she sees when he brings her to consciousness. Then he asks her to guide us to the prisoner.”

It was a brilliant idea and it worked like a charm. We fed her all four of the Elixirs just to be sure and in no time at all, she was putty in Longhelim’s hands. She introduced herself as Handrea and there was a lot of billing and cooing on her part; Longhelim looked quite uncomfortable but played his part and soon she was guiding us through the swamp to her abode. She kept excusing her actions by saying that it wasn’t her fault and that she and her companions were only doing the bidding of the half orc from the fish market. He wanted the Tidereaver’s Tear.

“And what is that?” asked Longhelim.

“Oh, it’s just a potion my little dove; nothing for you to worry about. Now, when we get home, can you tell your friends to leave us alone for some time. I would love to take you into my hut and…..”

“Of course Handrea but this potion?”

“I’ll tell you for a kiss.”

I turned my head at that point but admired Longhelim.

“Oooh, my little dove, you are such a great kisser. Well, all right, the potion. Look the druid has one. It is in that flask. It looks like blood…..because it is!”

She giggled at this point and kissed him again.

“It has to be made with the blood of intelligent creatures. Once the flask is activated, it bleeds and the person taking it bleeds as well. That is all harmless but the really clever bit is that one can ignore the effects of storms, bad weather and rough water; you can walk through all of that as if it was perfect calm. Isn’t that clever? The half orc wants as many as we can get. You will be so proud of me, my little dove. We have made so many.

It is very frustrating though. We get so few potions from one being. I don’t know what we are doing wrong but we need to get more. Children are useless for this, although they are the easiest to catch; usually they just sit there and cry; except for a couple, they tried to run; didn’t matter, the croc was always hungry. Mind you, lots and lots of humans and elves and half orcs and all sorts have been travelling in this swamp. It’s been a great hunting ground. I haven’t had so much fun since we ambushed that family of halflings and……”

I looked at everyone else, and we all looked very pale. I wasn’t sure just how many people this thing had murdered but her obvious disdain for life as she courted Longhelim proved her to be totally mad; murderously so in fact.

As a precaution, as we were travelling, we asked if they had any further defences in their home and she mentioned a group of skeletons but nothing that would worry a great man like Longhelim.

Thus forewarned, we arrived at an island with three habitable and two ruined huts. Next to one of the huts was a huge pile of bones. I couldn’t even guess how many people must have been killed to create such piles but it was more than……as I said, I couldn’t even guess. A closer look showed that some of the skeletons were much better preserve than others. We landed on the island and indeed, a great many of the creatures, more than I thought in fact, suddenly stood up and rushed to meet us; only to be met by the combined religious power of Longhelim and John, who both brandished their holy symbols at them:

“Begone foul creatures of the eternal night!” thundered Felix, showing a weathered wooden circle carved with runes that looked as if it had travelled for thousands of miles.

“Begone foul creatures of the eternal night!” this from John, except that his imprecation was more of a squeak; also it looked less impressive as he waved an odd looking mask at the skeletons; half of it seemed to be grinning and the other half looked to be grimacing.

Ultimately though, the end result was shattering explosions of bone as all the skeletons burst into shards.

After that, we began to check the huts. Each was locked with a large brass lock; we had found three brass keys on the tieflings which presumably corresponded with these locks. Before we did anything, we called out to anyone to see if we received a response from any prisoners but there was no answer. The first hut was opened and revealed a table with three small coffers; there was also a manacled corpse strung to the wall in one corner; it was maggot ridden and most of its entrails hung out of its stomach. It also stank. The latest victim no doubt; poor wretch. We closed the door and moved to the next hut.

That one revealed another bound and gagged figure. This one was a red haired woman who was alive and whole, thank goodness, albeit in quite a skimpy under dress. We freed her, with the gag being the first to be untied; she just looked at us and smiled:

“Well, it’s about time you got here; much longer and I would have had to do something about this myself”; this while she was still bound and on the floor.

Not responding, we unbound her and then asked who she was.

“I am Katarina of Gate Pass. I am a mighty sorcerer as well as a student of all things arcane and the only reason I was captured was because of the incompetence of my help; not that I was in trouble mind you. I would have handled it; I was just waiting for the right time to get out of here”.

The lady was obviously a character. I decided not to tell her the fate of “her help”. I suspect that we had just found the remains of one of them in the first hut.

John also ignored the bravado and just said to her: “I have a letter from you from your brother, Rantle”. With that, he gave her the scroll which Rantle had entrusted to him all those weeks ago. She took it eagerly but looked disappointed when she realised her brother was obviously not with us. Then she read the scroll and put it away in her clothing. Then she looked at us: “Well, now what?”

We looked at the final hut. There we found a cauldron and more equipment that looked as if it was needed to brew these potions. There were various glass containers with traces of blood and gore. The cauldron was just………nasty. Yet more evidence of what the tieflings had been doing. There was also a set of equipment wrapped in a fine dress; this was seized by Katarina, who exclaimed that it was her red dress as well as other items.

Once we had finished, everyone looked at each other. Victor and Longhelim; John, Torrent and I; Drudge and Felix and finally we nodded to Longhelim who looked at us. Then he said:

“Handrea, please turn around. I need to take your bonds off”.

As she did, he executed her. It had to be done; not only for the crimes she had committed but for the crimes she would commit in the future. She had no morals or ethics, no sense of right or wrong, of life or death, of consequences. To her, other beings, sentient or not, were purely prey for her and her purposes. Her justification was that if an individual could not defend its life against her assault, then it did not deserve to live. I nodded to myself. As distasteful as Longhelim’s action was, I was convinced we had just saved hundreds of lives in the future; and as for her comments about the children in the swamp…….

No one raised any objections although Crystin looked wide eyed.

We picked up the coffers from the first hut, which were full of platinum coins of Shahalesti denomination. That was odd and something to ponder upon later. We took the extra boat and distributed passengers. After that, we continued to our destination.

Thankfully, as we progressed, although we saw various groups of figures and the odd animal or two, they steered well away from our little convoy. Katarina said that the groups were likely to be goblins. They infested this area. We also heard a very strange noise. It was indescribable; I had never heard anything like it. Katarina said that it was a dragon and that it sounded in distress. We just looked at her. Katarina said a lot of things.

Victor then pointed out that a hawk that seemed to be following our progress. That was more interesting. We kept an eye on it.

Finally, we arrived at a point where the water finished and we had to walk. We decided to carry our boats with us for the moment. It was obvious that a great many other people had landed here already and we decided to do the same thing. As we trudged along, we saw a great many of the boats abandoned on the side of the trail. The ground dried up quickly and soon we were on a firm trail with green countryside around us.

It was still raining.

As we began to walk along, I asked Torrent:

“Your mentor, could you tell us a little about him?”

“He is called Lee Sidoneth and he is a powerful druid. He knows the ways of nature and he is a great man. He lives in Seaquen proper and I can’t wait to see him again”, was the answer.

Interesting: a druid, living by the sea; very likely to have great mastery over the element of water then. I wondered if there was connection with the Kraken, the Great Elemental of Water but decided that it was probably too fanciful. That set me off on a separate train of thought: If the Great Eagle of the Air had the Order of the Aquiline Cross connected with it, I wondered if the other Elements, the Kraken, the Worm and the Dragon had their own orders. Maybe these Ragesian Dragon Riders were the equivalent Order for the Dragon of Fire?

As I mused about this, I missed a group of figures appearing in the distance, but closing rapidly. Thankfully others from our group were more alert than I and had seen them; I was warned as they suddenly dropped the boats; thankful for their warning, I cast several protective spells. A horn sounded from the approaching group. Four of them broke off and sought cover; they were archers and their bows were ready. The remaining three approached us. Moments later, we could discern them as elves. Not just normal elves either but in uniform, well armed with swords and bucklers and very large bows in the case of the quartet which had sought cover. In fact, they looked remarkably like the Shahalesti warriors we had met in Gate Pass.

Their leader, all chiseled features, impeccable armour and military bearing despite the weather, approached us. We had just come out of the swamp, were covered in muck, soaked by the rain and were generally disheveled from carrying our boats; in other words, not a very prepossessing group. The only person that looked even remotely glamorous was Katrina, who looked at the elf frankly. I was concerned.

“Greetings travelers; we are a military detachment from His Majesty’s Ship Osprey. We are patrolling these lands for Ragesian agents, smugglers and sympathizers. Please drop your possessions for our inspection.”

Immediately, everyone among us bristled but Longhelim stepped forward.

“Thank you for your courtesy sir.” The voice was in full action, soft, beautifully modulated, charming and persuasive.

“You are indeed correct. This land is overrun with Ragesian spies and sympathizers. You have my admiration for your dedication to your task, thankless though it may be. However, may I put it to you Sir, that we are exactly the opposite. We all hail from Gate Pass and we are warriors against the Ragesian oppressors. It is our dearest wish to expel the Ragesians from our city. We will of course co-operate fully with you but please, may I know, whose authority do you consider yourselves to be under when you perform your inspections here near Seaquen?”

The elven leader produced a quite splendid scroll which he handed to Longhelim who immediately passed it to me without looking at it and continued engaging the elven leader in conversation.

I read it quickly. It was an impressive document, grandly named “The Treaty of Sherayel Derathi”, giving this elf a blanket authority on land and sea to inspect anything and anyone, anytime and anywhere in the name of King Shalaadel. Under the terms of this treaty, anything and anyone that could be perceived to be of potential help to Ragesia, could be confiscated, again in the name of the Shining Lands of Shahalesti. Moreover, it was signed by the aforementioned Shalaadel, King of the Shahalesti; only him mind you. I presumed that “confiscating anyone” actually meant taking them prisoner if need be. I leaned forward and whispered all of this quickly to Longhelim.

He took the scroll from me and handed it back to the leader.

“This all seems to be in order sir; please, before we continue with the inspection, tell me what does His Majesty Shalaadel intend in Dassen?”

The elf seemed more friendly by this time, no doubt charmed by Longhelim. He answered:

“His Majesty is disturbed both by the latest actions of the Ragesians and the response from the land of Dassen. He offered an alliance to King Stepengaard of Dassen but that ruler believes that the Ragesians are not his enemies. Therefore King Shalaadel has sent a fleet under Admiral Felshanth to show his support for and encourage an alliance between Seaquen and the Shining Lands of Shahalesti. In fact, he is conferring a great honour on the city. He is sending his most skilled negotiator to speak on his behalf: His daughter and heir, the Princess Shalosha. We are positive that under her expert guidance, our nation and Seaquen will rapidly form an alliance.”

As this information was imparted and the conversation flowed, Longhelim’s manner and charm was yet more evident and the body language of the elven patrol eased. The archers, tired of their vigil, cautiously came forward; they were also introduced and everyone relaxed. Soon, more and more courtesies and pleasantries were exchanged and everything became very civilized. Longhelim at one point began to take off his equipment and was on the point of handing it over to the elven leader, who glanced at it cursorily and said:

“Look, it’s obvious that you are no more Ragesian sympathizers than I. There is no need for us to detain you any further. Please carry on to Seaquen and go about your business”.

With that, we said our goodbyes and carried on. As we walked, Longhelim whispered:

“It’s nice not to have to fight our way through that”.

“We could have taken them!” this from Katarina.

Everyone just rolled their eyes at this.

A little later still, Victor sidled up to me, talking quietly:

“So, Shalaadel is sending a fleet to Seaquen? To show his support for the town? Or to make sure he controls anything and anyone sailing into and out of the harbor; I believe that is a blockade by any other name; and his only daughter is turning up to “negotiate” on his behalf? He must be either truly desperate or consider Seaquen and the Lyceum to be crucial to Shahalesti; probably a mixture of both. We had better remember what they did to Innenotdar. If the Shahalesti annex Seaquen after Gate Pass forges an alliance with the Lyceum, then our city basically trades one master for another.”

I nodded at his thoughts, also thinking hard.

We were now obviously getting closer to the city. The trail was getting wider and looked even more used. We could see some more figures in the distance. As we approached, a ragged half orc approached us:

“Buy your boat off you? A hundred copper?” We looked at him. He looked half starved, soaked and dripping water, with patched clothing and mismatched boots.

I whispered to Longhelim and he nodded. We laid our boats down and the paladin said:

“You can have them. We don’t need them any longer”.

With that, we moved past and left him looking at us, open mouthed.

As it neared the end of the day, we finally began to approach Seaquen; or it was not Seaquen proper, more like several refugee camps outside the city. We had been expecting something like this but even so, to see it in reality was overwhelming. There were thousands of people here; men, women and children of all races. Most of them looked badly fed and miserable in the wet. Many of their shelters were little more than tents and badly made ones at that so not very effective in the rain which meant that everyone must have been at least damp if not actually wet while sleeping. This must have been horribly uncomfortable, never mind the potential for disease and plague.

Our first actions were to make a tour of the camps and try to learn as much as possible through a mixture of chatting to people and using our eyes and ears.

Doing this, we learned that Seaquen was clustered around a harbour on the North Shore of the Peninsula and the whole area was blessed by a series of hot springs and vents which led to a very pleasant and balmy temperature; it also aided in producing an almost permanent mist. The harbour was extremely busy most of the time and completely full at the moment; therefore, another newer harbour had been established, now known as South Harbour. Also, very busy, this location seemed to be rougher, more disreputable and there were disturbing rumours of young women disappearing on regular occasions. There were also fierce, destructive fires in buildings. This was quite an impressive feat, considering the wet weather so, not surprisingly, foul play was suspected. Despite this though, several wealthy merchants had already built their mansions in the area; the most prominent was a Halfling named Cerraban Gremman. Many of these new wealthy were also refugees, including Gremman.

The person in charge of the whole town was a dwarf named Magistrate Lord Votberd who, according to everyone to whom we spoke, had been a very successful privateer in his youth.

As expected, the town of Seaquen was completely full. Accommodation was done on a “who is willing to pay the most” basis. Even most residential houses were being used.

Surprisingly, there were thousands of Ragesian refugees here. It seems the empire was just as ruthless with their people if they did not conform, or from what we gathered, if they displeased their Empress for some reason which amounted to the same thing. Unfortunately, not only were they the most numerous, they also lived in the most squalid conditions as they were distrusted because of their origins. Apparently, every second Ragesian in the camps was an Inquisitor; they were in disguise, not wearing their masks. Not surprisingly, this was the biggest camp.

Another camp was inhabited mainly by a mixture of Dessani and Sindarese. This was the most sanitary and well kept of the camps although again, it had its issues. It was also the home of a paladin whose name was repeated to us again and again as someone who kept the peace and encouraged what little unity there was; Laura Beck Adelsberg. Something else of interest was that most of the Dessani refugees came from the lands of a Lady Timor. We didn’t know why but it would be something to look into at some point. The Dessani refugees were led by an old warrior, Commander Xavius Foebane.

Finally, the nucleus of the final camp was a group of about fifty mercenaries from Ostaliner who had fallen foul of their Khagan or King. This was a regular occurrence from what we had been told as the Khagan was quite mad. Anyway, their leader was one Makung Shaftaban and their camp consisted mainly of humans and elves. Until very recently, Makung had been the second in command of the band. The disagreement with the Khagan was at the root of his promotion as the former commander had not managed to escape from the Khagan. This camp was also less than popular as they were perceived as being very mercenary….. in everything.

To compound matters, the camps were also split into various factions or Temples as they were known. The leaders of these seemed to be more interested in pursuing their own agendas and empire building rather than helping people, or so the rumours went.

In amongst all of our wonderings we found several offers of employment ranging from the mundane to the outrageous. The clearance of the goblins in the swamp was in the former category and the offer of a dragon hunt in the same swamp was in the latter one; it was even believed that the dragon concerned was supposed to own a strange magical instrument; it was a legendary lyre which would speed up building magically to such an extent that it would produce shelters at a miraculous speed. Looking at the refugees around me, I wondered if someone had just begun a wishful rumour. The goblins, in the meantime, supposedly possessed a magical bottle which produced water endlessly.

There was also a strange offer to help salvage a ship which had ran aground on the Southern shore; apparently it was full of exotic creatures for the Lyceum, including a Pegasus, a Gorillion, a murder of stirges and a pack of hunting spiders, Ottercap Pouncers as they were known.

Something else which had created a great deal of gossip in the camps was the presence of the ship of the Wayfarer’s Theatre in the North Harbour. I did not know anything about them really. I had heard that they were travelling performers who had strange arcane powers, mostly to do with planar magic; bearing in mind what we had been told and had also seen, I suspect that they had their own problems; mostly to do with the fact that planar magic was synonymous with spontaneous combustion at the moment; apparently, even their ship could magically transport itself. Now, that was a spell I would pay very good money to witness, especially now. Otherwise, performance art was something I could live without. Anyway, their Guildmistress, Sheena Larkins was recruiting new members for some theatrical performance which was to happen in a few days. This piece of news was particularly attractive to Tiljann, who immediately said that she wanted to visit these people and introduce herself. She felt as if they were calling to her. So, with a promise to come and visit to make sure she was all right, Tiljann left us to pursue her dreams in the Theater.

Strangely, during our reconnaissance, a lady approached Longhelim and exclaimed:

“It’s you! I’ve been looking for you! Yes, tall, dark haired, symbol of Heironeous, smoking a pipe and a real looker. Yes, that’s you. Someone is looking for you; name of Jess; ring a bell? Anyway, it’s great to see you!”

With that she skipped off.

Katarina, immediately ran up.

“I don’t know who that was but she’s been magically influenced. Quick, let’s follow her!”

That was not difficult. The woman was not taking any precautions and quickly arrived at a house on the outskirts of the town. There, she knocked on the door; we could see that it was opened by a young boy, who was handed a note then the door was closed and the woman walked off; another mystery.

All of this initial reconnaissance had taken us several hours. We had decided to visit Torrent’s mentor the next day as arriving at his mansion so late would be a little rude. So we set up a camp for the night near one of the refugee camps, the one which was inhabited by the paladin. The others seemed a little chaotic for my taste.

Just before we did so, however, Katarina and Crystin came and said goodbye. Katarina claimed that she would be able to get into the Lyceum tonight; she said she had influence and she promised to introduce Crystin to the mages there; again, we promised to visit to make sure that they would be all right and then we wished them the best of luck. That left just the original group that had met at the Poison Apple pub all those weeks ago.

We prepared for the night and then, not expectedly, we received a visit. A beautiful, dark haired woman approached us, majestic and heavily armed. Judging by her appearance, she had a great deal of elven blood and she wore the symbol of the Order of the Aquiline Cross. This was the paladin about whom we had heard, Laura Beck Adelsberg. Everything she wore was of wonderful quality and as she approached to within speaking distance, we could see that her armour had been cunningly carved to resemble tiny, fine bird feathers. Her armour and equipment were also unusually well fitted, almost body hugging. This would tally with the information that she was often seen in the company of an enormous eagle; an honest to goodness giant eagle. I speculated that maybe this had something to do with her membership of the Order of the Aquiline Cross.

She was very friendly and approachable. Companionably, she sat down and shared our food. Cautiously, we talked a little about ourselves and about our journey here. She listened to us in silence and then gave us various pieces of advice about moving around in the camps and city. The conversation flowed and then of course, the talk turned to the camps.

She sighed: “I do my best but as a single person, there is only so much I can do. There is so much tension and infighting that I am at my wits end. Every day, I break up a dozen arguments and fights! The real frustration is that it need not be this way. If these people could work together, just talk to each other; they need a place where they could meet and realize that they are in fact similar and that their aims usually coincide. Then things would improve. Sure, some things wouldn’t be perfect but they would certainly be better than they are now; some of the camps are fine, with plenty of food, blankets, shelter and fuel while in others, disease and death are common; and the Temples! Most of them are too busy scoring points off each other or trying to gain converts to their cause or beliefs rather than helping. In the meantime, people are dying! It’s crazy!”

By this time, we had set up quite a large lean-to which sheltered us from the rain. We were all either sitting or lying under it. Longhelim was smoking his pipe as usual while the rest of us were having a hot drink, which we again shared with Laura.

Longhelim took the pipe out of his mouth:

“So, if you could do something, what would be the first step?”

The answer was delivered so quickly that she had obviously thought about it quite carefully:

“The first step is to provide somewhere which could be considered common ground. Somewhere where all the various factions or groups or temples or whatever they happen to call themselves, could get together and hash out some agreements about recruitment, about provisions, about converting disciples, about sharing resources and so on and so on. When you have thousands of people together like this, you need a central point. This site, call it a Temple for want of another term, would be it.”

“That seems eminently sensible. Have you approached anyone else with this?”

“I am too involved with the refugees already. If I tried to bring the factions together then everyone would suspect some ulterior motive.”

Longhelim puffed: “In other words, you need outsiders; someone without an axe to grind because they have just arrived and who could potentially be reasonably competent at…..all sorts of things?”

She looked at him and nodded.

“Would you give us a few moments please, Laura?”

We conferred amongst ourselves but her proposal appealed to our sense of right and wrong.

Then we asked her to join us again and Longhelim said:

“Laura, as no doubt you have guessed, we have our own reasons for being here and these have to take priority but it could be that some of our aims overlap so we will do our best to help you. Can you tell us anything about these groups or factions that are prevalent over the camps?”

“Of course; if there any groups with whom I have become familiar in my time here, it is the Temples. These are the main ones:

There are the Ragesian Philosophers; they revere the God of Knowledge. They are fairly much as they sound. Their High Priest loves to debate philosophy, listening to stories and adores books. There is a rumour that on the way here, he abandoned some of his followers but stopped and turned back and retraced his steps when he found he lost one of his books.

The Ragesian Hospitallers are priestesses who worship the Goddess of Healing. They literally save lives every day and the situation in the Ragesian camps would be intolerable without them. Their High Priestess likes to use parables. For some reason, they are hostile to me due to my Order. I have not been able to find out why.

The Ragesian Savages worship the God of Strength. Their leader is a huge barbarian and in this case, either approach them first or last. They will take great offense if you do not do this. So far as they are concerned, the strongest are the mightiest.

The Ragesian Druids are affiliated with the God of Pilgrimages. Their Great Druid likes to hear stories of travels; oh, he also likes cats.

The Dessani Dwarves only like other dwarves. They revere the God of Ancestors and are very proud of their lineage, which they recite at the slightest opportunity. For some reason, their god is very fond of goat sacrifice.

The Osterliner Mercenaries worship the God of Battle. Their High Priest is a former hippogriff rider and often reminisces of great aerial battles. He has already said that any Temple for them would have to be on high ground.

Then there are the local inhabitants from Seaquen. These mainly worship the God of the Sea and so would like any Temple to be built on the coast, on the South Shore if possible.

Finally, there are the Sindarese Exiles. This group worships the God of Sorcery and they have great fondness for arcane magic and sorcery in particular “.

Now this was a long and impressive list; also very detailed. She wasn’t joking when she said that she had studied the factions intently. We digested this and then asked her more questions about these groups, trying to get more ideas of how to approach and convince them to work together. As we were doing this, lounging under the lean-to, I noticed one strange thing. It seemed to be quite cold, wet and windy; we could see that Laura began to shiver a little, despite being sat next to the fire, so we lent her a blanket, yet I did not feel the cold at all. I was very comfortable, despite the weather. I didn’t know why.

Finally, Laura left and we readied the tents. As a matter of curiosity, I asked everyone else if they were feeling the cold and curiously, they were not. No one had given it any thought, thinking that although it may have been wet but it was warm; I wasn’t so sure and filed it away as another mystery to investigate when time allowed.

As was becoming common, our sleep was interrupted. It was the middle of the night and Longhelim was on watch when I was woken up by a loud shout. As I crawled out of my tent and looked around I saw that a human figure had appeared from the darkness. She wielded a sword in one hand and a rope in the other. Longhelim had already rushed towards her with a raised sword but she seemed to speak to him gently and he suddenly rushed back towards his tent! Something magical must have happened although I could not tell what. Then Victor, also awake, rushed towards her and struck her with his sword. He had obviously “clicked” with this weapon far more than the previous one. The woman certainly felt the results as she grunted with the force of the blow and then tried to speak gently to Victor as well. This time, there was no effect; Longhelim charged out of his tent and this time struck her a beautifully placed blow. Now that the warriors were together, I was able to cast my speed spell and even managed to include Drudge within it for the first time.

The warriors were in their element as they began to position themselves in such a way as take full advantage of their speed and the enemy’s vulnerability. In this they were aided by a continuous stream of arrows from Drudge and in a flurry of sword strokes from both Victor and Longhelim the woman disappeared in an explosion of flame.

I have to say, considering that there was a problem with planar travel at this time, we seemed to meeting a great many beings who did not have any compunction against using it.

We settled back down for the rest of the night.

The next day, we woke up and performed our morning rituals; sparring for the warriors and praying and reading for the priests and arcanists; or both in the case of John who had foot in each camp. Then, we decided that our first port of call would be Lee Sidoneth, the druid and Torrent’s mentor.

During the daytime, travel through the city was chaotic but quite safe. However, what became far more apparent was the squalor endured by most of the refugees. When thousands of people live together in conditions such as these then a certain amount of…..waste of all types is produced; there seemed to have been little provision for its disposal and it was just lying on the ground, often being poked at by children. I had realised that Laura must have had great moral fortitude but I began to admire it even more when I saw what she must face every day.

We entered the town proper, which was a little better; it was just as crowded but at least here the shelters were permanent and there was less rubbish around; they probably had some sort of arrangement for its collection, unlike the camps, where it stank. That was not the only thing that stank but it was better not to dwell on or investigate that too deeply.

Torrent led us to the northern shore until we arrived at the harbor, where we saw many, many ships; anchored at the centre of the bay was an enormous craft; I had never seen a ship before but looking at this one in comparison to the other ships in the harbor, it was substantially larger than any of them; it had brightly coloured sails, furled at the moment as well as streamers and flags which flew cheerily in the wind. I assumed this was the Wayfarer’s Theatre. There were people on board but there was no sign of Tiljann. Then we carried on walking on the shore until we arrived at a wooden walkway that led to a small island which contained only one house, a large mansion. Confidently, Torrent stepped out and strode in the lead, followed by the rest of us. I was a little slower and noticeably less confident, hoping that I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself and fall in. The blasted thing even wobbled a little.

Thankfully, there were no accidents and we arrived at the front door. It was open a crack and a parchment was wedged in it. Curious, we picked it up and read: “Enter freely. I am usually at the back, tending to Lula.”

So, we entered and moved through an entrance hall. We could hear voices and called out, not wanting to appear like intruders. The voices stopped and four individuals entered the hallway from one of the side rooms. Two half orcs who looked tough; one very strange person: at first glance he looked like a normal human but then one could see small protrusions from his arms that looked like tentacles. I could also see what looked like teeth on his cheekbones. There was also what looked like an eye on one of his forearms. I couldn’t help staring. He was quite the strangest looking individual I had ever seen and that is saying something bearing in mind our latest adventures. Then I remembered one of the odder pieces of news from our excursion yesterday; it was about a shop called Majestic Creations on the South Shore. Apparently it was an establishment that was willing to change their clients according to their requirements; literally physically change them. I did not really enquire into just what kind of changes they were talking about. Looking at this individual, I wondered if I was seeing one of the shop’s clients…..who hadn’t quite realised what he was doing.

However, my staring was broken by the last person of the quartet, a tall, bald, human who looked very powerful, with a strong physique and the weathered countenance of a sailor or fisherman. Without hesitation, he moved to Torrent and hugged her.

“Torrent! You are back. Did you manage it?”

That question triggered a narrative of what we had done so far. The three others excused themselves, saying that they had business to attend to. Lee led us to his kitchen and we sat down to breakfast; Torrent did most of talking. She was enthusiastic and animated, obviously very glad to see Lee again and enormously proud of what we had achieved. Just as she was in the middle of the last part of her tale, the sound of a small bell could be heard and Lee stood up and said:

“Excuse me; please come. It is time to attend to Lula.”

Curious, we followed to another room where we saw Lula. It was a large room with a pool in the middle and in this pool was a curious beast which looked roughly like a fish except that it had no fins and its front consisted of a group of tentacles. It was very big, ugly and to be blunt, I didn’t like it very much.

Drudge whispered:

“That’s a squid and it’s the biggest one I have ever seen”.

Judging by how Lee was “attending” to it, it was also carnivorous, viciously so.

When Lee finished with Lula, he took us to another room.

“I applaud your efforts so far. We must get you to see Headmaster Simeon as soon as we can. We should be able to get an appointment for you tomorrow morning. Just leave it to me. Get to the Lyceum at this time tomorrow.”

I was a little disappointed as I wanted to see Simeon and hand over that gods dammed case that everyone seemed to know about as soon as possible but I realised that no one knew us and really, getting an appointment with someone like Simeon from one day to the next considering the current situation, was actually an impressive achievement.

That left us with a day to ourselves.

Torrent said goodbye to us at this point, staying with Lee.

The first thing we did was a certain amount of commerce. Although we had not been able to carry a great deal, there were several small precious pieces that we had collected as fortunes of war from several of our enemies. These we were able to sell. Following this, a great deal of that money was spent on the acquisition of small pearls which was a necessary component for a spell which would allow me to investigate the functions of various magical pieces and wands we had also acquired.

Once we had completed these tasks, we debated what to do next; our first thought was to inquire about the supervision and transport of the cargo of exotic creatures from the ship which had run aground near the South Shore; but, as we made further inquiries, we found that the creatures involved included a pegasus, several ottercap pouncers, which as we found out, were hunting spiders and a gorillion, a huge ape like creature with four arms as well as a murder of stirges, the infamous blood sucking….flying things. There were several others, in total thirty different creatures, each more exotic and dangerous then the other. In short, they were all awkward, difficult to transport, large and worst of all, the trip would have to be undertaken through part of the swamp. We discussed it and then decided that it could be something that we could do in the future but frankly, at this time, it sounded like a great deal more trouble than it was worth.

Then Longhelim suggested that we visit the Ragesian Philosophers. This would be our first contact with any of the factions or Temples within the refugee camps and we were all curious as to how these groups operated.

Before we did so however, we realised that we needed some sort of proposal or suggestion as to how to proceed with this communal Temple. So, we approached the Town Hall and managed to get an appointment with a town functionary. In fact, when the “functionary” saw us I was shocked to see that it was a dwarf who matched the description of Magistrate Lord Votberd. It became quickly apparent that he had made time in his schedule to see us because he was just as frustrated with the conduct of the Temples as Laura was. First, he questioned us closely, wanting to know who we were and what we were doing here. He relaxed slightly when we told him we had an appointment with Headmaster Simeon the next day and opened up:

“To put it bluntly, these Temples are a headache and I am having a great problem with them. We have people arriving every day, crying out for help, some sick, most poor and starving; but these Temples, instead of offering help or solutions, are becoming part of the drain on us. So far as they are concerned, anyone is just a potential recruit for their philosophy, or religion or regiment or whatever; but of course they don’t actually provide anything. They just want the affiliation, as if being the biggest proves some sort of point; you know – my way is the best, look lots of people believe so. Honestly, it’s like a bunch of children.

I should exclude the healing Temple from this,” he said grudgingly, “but even they have their problems.”

“Anyway, I applaud and support your efforts if you are going to attempt to bring them together. Frankly, it was about time someone tried to do this; I was going to give them only a little longer before I sent the Elite Town Guard to sort them out. I was holding back because that could have become….difficult but now you are trying to sort this mess out I will hold fire a little longer and see how things work out.”

Longhelim said:”Just so you understand, this is not our primary concern or reason for being here, but you’re right, it’s a mess; but all these groups or Temples as they call themselves, they’ll want concessions, space, a building. We are going to need to be able to offer them something so they listen to us; any thoughts?”

Votberd thought for a while and then said: “Look, I can’t give you a building; I can’t give you any money either. Gods know I’d be lynched if anyone found out I was giving either of those to that lot trouble makers; but…..this is what I can do. If you decide a plot of land on which to build something, let me know where it is and I am sure that it can be “donated” to the cause, providing you use your common sense; I am also sure we can work something out about the taxes. It’s not a lot but it is something”.

It was actually more than we had hoped for and we now had a starting position and something with which to bargain.

“Thank you for your time and generosity, Lord Votberd. We will be seeing you again.”

Finding the Philosophers was not a problem. Their camp was very clean and well designed. They looked quite innocuous. Their leader was tall, bearded, elderly gentleman and with his pale skin and white beard, looked like a person who spent a great deal of time indoors. I suspected that travelling did not agree with him; yet he seemed very friendly and was more than happy to see us although he gave us a thorough questioning before we were able to tell him what we wanted. I realised fairly early that he was eager to see anyone he did not know purely to be able to able to wring them dry of their knowledge and experience, for want of a better term. His appetite for stories and ideas was insatiable; not in a bad way, just obsessive.

Of course, we were not able to tell him everything, but he had a keen, probing mind and some of the questions were extremely clever. He was a skilled interrogator and he did manage to get more out of us than I was hoping to divulge but I was also pretty certain that he knew that we still had many secrets left; finally, we reached the point in the conversation where he asked us what we wanted. Longhelim revealed the reason for our visit, the potential to build a communal Temple building where all the other Temples could inhabit, worship, communicate and hopefully organise. His attention sharpened again and this time he began to question Longhelim very closely.

What followed next was a master class in the art of debate. I was amazed at Longhelim’s skill. For every point the priest made, the paladin was able to answer and make a point of his own. I was able to follow the debate and mentally make a lot of the points myself but I would never have been able conjure the rhetorical skills than Longhelim was using. Of course, as usual, his voice helped; it was developing as he was using it more and more and its softness, inflection and power at various points in the debate certainly aided the paladin’s efforts. As the hours passed by, it was obvious that the Philosopher was enjoying the debate more and more; every so often, he would make a point that was not quite relevant, but Longhelim would gently steer the debate back to the matter in question.

Finally the Philosopher said:

“Well, young man, you have certainly convinced me. I have not had such a wonderful conversation for a very long time. Of course, I will have to consider your words further but let us say that my door is always open to you and your friends and that your proposal has great merits. We have been watching the chaos with concern but really, we are philosophers; we know the reasons and the consequences but we find it difficult to actually do anything about them. It is so pleasing so see a man of both thought and action”.

When we left, I walked with Longhelim:

“Clever old coot isn’t he? I bet that he was convinced half way through and that the rest of the time, he was just testing us to make sure that were weren’t just talking through our hats. He was making sure that you were bright enough to at least make an attempt to pull this off and also making sure that we were clever enough to keep our mouths shut at the right times; I bet that if we had tried to intercede, we would have been pulled into the debate where he would have torn us apart and then the deal would have been off.”

I do think we took a risk with that one though. We did go in a little cold. Actually, I had no idea what or who they stood for, why they had to leave or even how many of them there are. We should at least try to find out a little more information before we attempt to speak to any of the others, don’t you think?”

Longhelim and the others nodded as we walked back to the camp. The debate had taken hours and it was now dark.

I did not sleep well that night. I kept expecting to be attacked by another Ragesian agent, entity, creature or whatever. Hopefully, this would be the last night that we would have the case with the secret documents in our possession. Tomorrow, we would hand it over to Simeon and I hoped that any would-be thief would find it much harder to recover it from the Lyceum than from us. Thankfully, the night passed uneventfully.

The next morning we performed our usual rituals and training before we set off for our appointment. We were all tense, nervous and eager as we walked towards the Lyceum. This was going to be the culmination of our mission. Everyone was silent, lost in their thoughts. The all-important case was tucked away in Longhelim’s back pack.

We arrived at the Lyceum at the appointed time. It was a walled enclosure, although looking at it, the walls were more ornamental than secure. They were beautifully carved and therefore very easy to climb and there was an elaborate gate with more carvings above it; a large, wooden double door led into an open space, green and beautifully kept with a collection of buildings dotted throughout this large interior enclave. Surprisingly, we were met at the door by Katrina, who looked clean, rested, radiant and completely at home. She grinned at us and said that we were to follow her.

Passing through the door, it was as if we were entering a different world within the chaos of Seaquen. It was quiet, ordered, tidy and the grass was very well kept. Groups of young people of all races gathered in groups, either in discussion or practicing mock duels. I recognized the techniques from Gabal’s School. Something a little strange was happening though; as we were passing all activity seemed to stop and we were being stared at.

“It’s them! The ones that defeated an Inquisitor. They’re here!”

John, never keen on being the centre of attention, moved up to Katrina and whispered:

“What’s going on? Why is everyone looking at us?”

Katrina just grinned and answered:

“You’ve got a reputation now. Crystin has been telling everyone how you rescued her. She’s pretty; many of them are boys and besides, there aren’t that many people who have taken on an Inquisitor and his team and lived to tell the tale. Enjoy this; you deserve it.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, it was gratifying to be recognized for what you had done. It could open useful doors and important people would make time for you. Conversely, if you were unknown to your enemies, you could be underestimated, which was a distinct advantage in
combat.

As I was thinking about his, I noted absent-mindedly that several students approached Katrina and whispered something to her but she just shook her head and did not stop walking. I wasn’t sure what they were asking her.

Katarina continued:

“There is going to be a council of war tomorrow and you are invited along with many others of importance.”

She stopped and grinned at us.

Longhelim snorted.

“Katrina, stop playing games. Who else is going to be there?”

She nodded, as if she had proved a point. Then, as if she had memorized this, she recited:

“Well, as I have already said, yourselves; Headmaster Simeon and the Head of his War Department, Kiernan Stekart, a dwarven mage; from Seaquen, Lord Magister Votberd; Lee Sidoneth of course; Commander Zavius Foebane, leader of the Dessani refugees and a noted warrior; Laura Beck Adelsberg the paladin; Giorgio, the deputy to Guildmaster Sheena Larkins of the Wayfarer’s Theatre; Kiefer Numhaut, the Dessani ambassador; Cranston Snord, the Sindaire ambassador; Kazha Lonam, the Ostalin ambassador; and yours truly”.

I was still ruminating over this as we finally arrived at our destination. Inside an imposing room covered in tapestries were two individuals. One was a dwarf with beautifully groomed coal black beard and hair, an imposing robe and every inch a powerful magician; the other, a human, was both tall and large, wearing loose, comfortable clothing and who looked as if he should be running a farm. He smiled at us in an easy way and said:

“Welcome. You are the group from Gate Pass? Word of your exploits is all around. I have heard much about you. My name is Simeon. Congratulations in getting here; I hope you and I will become useful allies to each other”.

This was Longhelim’s territory.

“Headmaster Simeon, greetings from Gate Pass. My name is Longhelim the Farmer and I am a Holy Warrior of Heironeous. We have travelled long and far with an object that we have been told, will be of great help in the war against Ragesian aggression. No doubt, you have heard that the Scourge reigns in Gate Pass; well, we have brought you a great secret from the heart of Ragesia itself and we are here to put ourselves and our abilities at your disposal. We ask little in return: we would be grateful for any news of Gate Pass and would ask you to consider an alliance with the Resistance of the city. Now, please let me introduce you to my companions.”

Simeon glanced at the dwarf and then nodded to each of us as our names were announced.

I assumed his dwarven companion was Kiernan Stekart, the head of the War Department.

Simeon paused and then said:

“There is no easy way to say this. I have some very sad news from Gate Pass. It concerns Master Gabal; he led his students on several raids outside the city against the Ragesians but on the last of these, an Inquisitor managed to negate the spell the protected him against fire and the Master was then burnt to death by a fire breathing dragon; my condolences for your loss”.

My head spun. I found myself short of breath and I almost collapsed. Master Gabal gone! It couldn’t be! He was indestructible! Suddenly, Longhelim was next to me and whispered:

“I don’t believe that. If someone told me Gabal was dead, I would ask to see the body, repeat it three times and then still expect him to appear next week. I bet you he is still alive.”

I rallied. Battlefield reports were rarely completely accurate and the Master had magics about which I had no inkling and tricks gained over many battles. He had survived the previous invasion. I had to steel myself that the report may have been true but until I had it confirmed from trusted sources, I would continue to believe that Gabal was still with us.

Then our reticent Victor asked:

“Any news on the military situation in Gate Pass? What has been happening?”

Simeon looked at him and nodded as if confirming something to himself:

“There, we can tell you quite a bit:

The First Ragesian Army under General Magdus has ceased hostilities due to the weather and now roams the Eastern plains of Sindaire, “foraging”. In other words, taking everything that is not nailed down and becoming very unpopular in the process. We do know that a Ragesian fleet has sailed and it is most likely that it will be linking with the First Army. We do not know what they plan though.

The Second Ragesian Army, with elements of the Third Army under General Deneva, has breached the First District of Gate Pass. The Shahalesti are supplying the city so this has turned more into an assault as opposed to a siege. Casualties are heavy on both sides; again, the weather is hampering their operations.

The rest of the Third Army, under General Revelus, seems to be on the point of entering Dassen but again their operations are being affected by the weather.

The Fourth Ragesian Army is reported to be North of the Ottodar Mountains and ready to march into Shahalesti.

We find all of this very odd. Leska seems to be splitting her forces and there does not seem to be a coherent strategy or not one that we can see and that disturbs us. We know about Leska the Witch but we do not know about Leska the General. This is very concerning.

As regards our neighbours, well, resistance flared up against Ragesian garrisons in Sindaire when they attempted to round up the local spell casters. We do not have any news of any trouble in Osterlin at the moment.”

While I could see that Victor and Longhelim were following this, it did not mean a great deal to me. I had no idea how big a Ragesian Army was or what was in it; nor what it could achieve or how much food and support it needed for that matter. I also did not understand why these armies were being sent to these places or what they were supposed to be attacking. I made a mental note to ask Victor later. One thing I did understand was that this unnatural weather seemed to be hampering the Ragesians far more than us.

I heard Victor thanking Simeon for the information and then Longhelim stepped forward with our precious case.

With a flourish, he said:

“On behalf of the Resistance of Gate Pass and for the future hope of an alliance, please accept this case. We have been informed that inside are Ragesian military secrets. Certainly, from our experience, they have expended powerful resources in trying to get it back”.

Simeon took it and as he looked at it, I said:

“Be very careful with it. We didn’t tamper with it in any way because there is a lot of defensive magic attached to the lock. I would suggest that this is investigated before anyone tries to do anything with it.”

Simeon looked at me and nodded. He then proceeded to give me a master class in divination magic. Some of it I recognized, some of it I understood from a purely theoretical point of view and some of it was completely unknown to me.

Finally, we a flourish, there was an audible click from the lock of the case and Simeon opened it. Inside was a book; it was opened carefully but written in a language unknown to any of us; yet another spell was cast by Simeon who began to peruse it for a time.

This took longer and longer; we began to get a little restless when Simeon suddenly excused himself:

“Oh, I’m sorry; this is fascinating; I have only been able to skim a tiny part of it but I have been able to find out that it was written by Kneven, the second in command to the Inquisition. Somehow, he didn’t even mask his presence. There was someone else, who was also present when it was being written, but that person did mask their presence and for obvious reasons, we cannot tell who that was. From the little I have been able to glean, the Scourge has another meaning apart from its public one although as of yet I cannot tell what it is; also Kneven seems to be concerned about something called a trillith. Do you know what that is?”

Dear Gods! A trillith in the heart of the Ragesian Empire? That was very bad news indeed. What kind of mischief was a trillith up to in Ragos? With their abilities to possess people, it could be anyone, even Leska herself, though I admitted that that would be unlikely.

I replied:” Yes, we have heard of these creatures. We don’t actually know anything about their physical appearance, if indeed they have one, but we do know a little about their natures.”

We proceeded to tell him about our experiences with Indomitability and Deception. The more Simeon heard, the more disturbed he became. Then we told him of Crystin’s dream about meeting the two trillith near by their grandmother’s bones, which meant nothing to him. Simeon was obviously concerned, intrigued and greatly curious about the trillith, especially as he had never come across them before, so reluctantly, I offered to lend him my journals which went into greater detail of what little knowledge we had of them, as well their weakness as regards the Song of Forms. I also determined to ask Tiljann to attend the Lyceum and share her knowledge of the creatures and the Song of Forms; if there was anyone among us who could qualify to be an expert in them, it would be Tiljann.

Then came another delicate matter; that of a possible alliance between Seaquen and the Gate Pass Resistance. Simeon gave us a pained look:

“Personally, I would join the Resistance in a moment but there are other considerations. I am the Headmaster of the Lyceum; it is a powerful magical enclave but if one put up a group of magicians against an army, especially an army with Inquisitors, then said group will fare badly. I cannot commit my students to any alliances until we have an army which will protect them. I am sorry, but that is the way it is; anything else would be sheer murder.”

I was disappointed but strangely, Victor and Longhelim were both expressionless and did not seem particularly concerned by this stance.

Then I suddenly remembered something which we had not mentioned before:

“Headmaster Simeon, forgive me but there is one other thing which you may or may not know. As we travelled here from the swamp we were stopped by a patrol of Shahalesti elves; a detachment from His Majesty’s Ship Osprey. Anyway, Longhelim here managed to convince them that we were not an advance force for the Ragesians and we managed to get them talking.”

Simeon did not seem surprised about elves wondering around in the Seaquen countryside:

“We know about the Shahalesti but do go on.”

I continued: “Well, this elf said that there was a Shahalesti fleet on its way here under an Admiral Telshanth and that Shalaadel was sending his daughter, the Princess Shalosha as well; to negotiate, he said”.

Simeon’s attention sharpened and he glanced at Kiernan.

“We knew about the fleet as well but you say that Shalosha is coming? Here? That we didn’t know. Thank you; this is very useful and will require some preparation.”

Longhelim glanced at me with a slight smile, probably glad that I hadn’t managed to get us kicked out of the Lyceum.

Simeon, lost in thought, obviously gathered himself and said:

“This meeting has been most productive; in fact, one of the most productive of recent times. Please, Faden, come and visit our library and use its facilities. I am sure there will be magic there that you will find useful. Katrina, my dear, would you show him the way? Please do not forget the meeting of the War Council tomorrow. I must go and study these books which you have given me. I very much suspect that they will be very useful.”

We had obviously been dismissed but just before we went, John said:

“May I use your library as well please?

Simeon looked surprised but nodded.

We had a brief conversation between us. John and I were going to stay at the library to study magic. I had a particular formula in mind which could prove incredibly useful. John had the same idea. I even had a little money to purchase some ink which could be used to transcribe a spell into my own book. It would take me nearly all of the time up to the meeting of the War Council as well as all my money but it would certainly be worth it. It would be the same for John.

The others said that they would attempt to uncover more information about the various Temples and also they were going to find Torrent and let her know what was happening.

I was a little concerned about allowing the four of them to leave by themselves but they assured me that it would be all right.

The library was remarkable. Every nook and cranny was filled with books, scrolls, pamphlets, chap books, manuscripts and just more paper. Katrina confided that the library was under the personal purview of Simeon who was a diviner and a Loremaster; a highly specialized mage who delved into esoteric knowledge and obscure mysteries. It was a little woolly for my taste; I preferred my magic a little more empirical but I was very aware that having such knowledge could be a huge advantage.

The fact that someone as specialized in obscure lore as Simeon did not know anything about trillith was disturbing; just what where these things?

So the rest of the day for John and I was spent in researching magical formulae; again, I had to thank Katrina for intercepting various students who wanted to come and talk to me about methods of fighting Inquisitors and possibly get some “dueling” practice but she was very polite and managed to deflect their inquiries without offending them. She had obviously already become popular and known amongst their community. Well, that was certainly something sorcerers were good at.

Me, I had work to do.

The rest of the day passed so quickly, I scarcely noticed the passage of time. The magic formula I was attempting to write down was difficult and at the absolute limit of my knowledge. It had to do with weapons; it was an idea I had while watching Victor fight so efficiently with that huge sword, or falchion as he called it. Of course, his was now made of wood and I had no idea if my spell would work on it any more but theoretically, it should work on all weapons, including arrows, no matter what they were made of. What I was attempting to do was to make the weapons magically sharper; simultaneously, I was trying to magically enhance the weapon’s capability to strike the most advantageous location for the wielder.

I had the formula. I had been thinking about it for days; however, thinking about it and putting it down on paper were two different things. That was what was taking the time. I was using my dagger to test the process. After many hours and several cuts on my thumb, my rough draft seemed to be working and I was finally ready to transfer it to my spell book when I noticed a bowl of food and a mug of something in front of me. The food and drink were cold but I was suddenly starving and realised that I had not eaten since breakfast.

John was sitting at a different table and was in the same state as I except that he was still writing; again there was a bowl and mug in front of him; so I waited until an opportune moment and then gently shook him. He looked just as hungry as I did and we sat down. A little spell, and the food and drink were hot again; we sat there companionably, eating and comparing notes; and bliss, there was no one to tell us not to talk with our mouths full.

It was just as we were finishing that Simeon arrived. He came in and he looked grimmer than he had that morning. He was also carrying my journal:

“Faden, I have only skimmed this but I can already see that it will be invaluable. May I keep it for a little longer?”

He grinned: “Some of your spelling is a little unusual but I think I will be able to get past that. As a thank you from Seaquen, I hope you will accept several magical formulae in exchange?”

Several magical formulae from the library in Seaquen in exchange? For my scribblings? The inks involved in the scribing of magical formulae were expensive and time consuming to mix and he was offering several vials just to be able to read my journal? I almost leapt up onto the table and shouted in glee but I was learning from Longhelim; decorum and dignity; so I nodded gravely and said:

“The journal is as complete as I have been able to make it. Thank you for your generosity. The journal would have been at your disposal magical formulae or not but in this manner, our strength is shared. I am sure that our goals ultimately will be similar if not the same.”

Longhelim would have been proud of me. John stared at me as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard.

Then Simeon cleared his throat: “Gentlemen, we have an emergency!

You will not have noticed it here in the library but the temperature outside has dropped; not just dropped but plummeted; so much so that this is obviously not natural. The ambient temperature around Seaquen is directly influenced by the steam vents from the underground caves. The only feasible explanation is that something or someone is interfering with them. We need someone to go down there and find out what has happened.”

“When do we need to go?” I asked. “Can we go tomorrow morning? I’ve used up a great deal of my magic today indentifying several of our items.”

“If this temperature drop goes on for much longer or much lower, than people in the camps are going to start dying. They have little shelter and very little to keep warm; and it’s raining; which means it may soon begin to snow.”

I thought about it: “In other words, we need to go down there as soon as we can. So, can I have at least an hour? I can cram my spells in that time. I will be exhausted but at least I will be useful to a point.”

He nodded.

Then John said: “Well now that that has been settled, shall we discuss terms? What rewards are being offered for this?”

“No rewards,” was the answer. “If you can’t or won’t do this, I will have to find someone else. I won’t be able to find anyone as well qualified for this purpose as your group this quickly; therefore the chance of the success of the expedition will be lesser and the chance of people dying will be greater but so be it. There is nothing else to be done”.

“All right, all right”, grumbled John. “If Longhelim ever found out about this, I would never hear the end of it. Faden, stay here. Learn your spells. I will go and find the others.”

With that John left while I put away my work with a sigh; took out my spell book and began to concentrate. My eyes were grainy and I could already feel a headache building.

The time seemed to pass blindingly fast again. Although I knew my spells, I knew I wasn’t right. As per the one previous occasion when I had had to learn my spells like this, I felt weak, sluggish, generally out of sorts and had a pounding headache; I wasn’t sure why but the fatigue felt worse this time.

While I was waiting for the others I had a few brief questions for Simeon’s assistant. He had sent someone over who would guide us to the entrance of the tunnels. This was a locked manhole near one of the buildings in Seaquen. According to this apprentice, no one had been in the tunnels for years. There had not been any need to send anyone there before. This was the first time that something had gone wrong. He had no idea what to expect down there; again, he didn’t know anyone who had been there. Ultimately, I learned a great many things that this individual didn’t know.

Finally, John brought the others. I noticed immediately that Victor had some new armour; it now was the same type as Longhelim’s: full plate I believe they called it. I was about to remark upon it but as I opened my mouth, I was interrupted.

Longhelim said: “Faden, Torrent’s gone! We have no idea what has happened, where she is or even if she is still alive. No one has seen her since last night.”

I was shocked! Immediately I asked for as many details as could be provided. Big things were often hidden in little details.

Felix, Longhelim, Victor and Drudge had spent most of day attending to some personal commerce but as soon as they found out about Torrent, they tried to retrace her steps without success. Their next course of action had been to get a night’s rest and the next morning, Felix planned to learn some powerful magic which could trace her, or at least some conspicuous part of her equipment; her falchion from Erdan Menash to be exact. I had not paid any attention to it at the time, but I did remember something about the hilt looking like a banana or some such detail.

The only piece of good news in this sorry mess was that the others had gone to the Wayfarer’s Theatre and had seen and warned Tiljann. It was unlikely, but one could not discount Ragesian agents. This place was probably crawling with them and I suspect they were not happy with us at the moment. The theft of a book written by the second in command of the Inquisitors must reflect badly on a number of powerful individuals in the Empire and they must have been exerting a certain amount of…….pressure for its recovery.

Well, that put paid to any further thoughts of research and spell scribing in the Lyceum for the foreseeable future. We had to find Torrent but before we did that, we had to investigate the tunnels. I told the others what I had been able to find out about the tunnels so far, which was very little and then we set out.

The trip to the manhole was uneventful except that we noticed that our breath was now steaming. The temperature had obviously dropped dramatically although strangely I felt comfortable. I did not give it much thought; arriving at our destination, we lifted the cover and looked into darkness. I stepped forward and using my night vision, I could see that there was sheer drop quite a way down but there was also a series of rings embedded into the wall, forming a ladder.

John stepped forward and said:

“Right, chaps, let me go down with a light. I am the lightest here by far and I am also the most likely to find any nasty traps on the ladder. Faden, can you hand me the torch?”

With these words, he began to descend down the shaft. As he was doing this, I cast several protective spells on myself.

Soon, he called up:

“All clear!”

Hearing this, we all descended. Below was an opening and I stared curiously around me. If our previous guide was to be believed, we were the first group to set foot in these tunnels for decades; somehow I had my doubts about this. They made such a great hiding place for all sorts of things.

The walls around me were black; they were made of some black rock which I did not recognize. They were also covered in pipes of all sizes. I could also see that our breaths no longer steamed so I presumed that the temperature down here must have risen. Most curiously though, there was a narrow tunnel leading off this opening and not too far down, a pair of lit torches was attached to the wall. We were too far away to tell how this was done but they were definitely not decades old; this certainly put paid to the idea that no one had been down here for decades; not that I had believed that anyway. As we took a little longer to examine our surroundings, we also saw that the ceiling was covered with a layer of steam. This was obviously supposed to be going up to the surface to heat the surrounding area but for some reason stayed it was trapped down here.

On a more personal note, I was now fully convinced that we had somehow been changed since our time in the Fire Forest of Innenotdar. We seemed to be immune to discomfort due to temperature, whether it was very cold or very hot. I told the others about this and saw the realization dawning on them. They all remarked that they should uncomfortable in the heat down here, especially the warriors in their heavy armour but they felt no discomfort; like me, they hadn’t felt any for a long time in fact.

I don’t know how else we had changed but I did remember that Victor had told me that when I had been struck unconscious in the battle against the Tieflings in the swamp I had burst into flames and did not bleed, as if I was still in the Fire Forest. I was sure the two were connected. It was something else to investigate, if I ever had the time. There may even have been other changes about which I was unaware as yet.

Simultaneously, as I was realizing this, I also looked more closely at the pipes. It was immediately obvious to me that they had been built by dwarves. They screamed dwarven workmanship to me. I could also see runes marked on each of the pipes. These said the same phrase: “We built here, we Mazak”. I have to say that it was gibberish to me but then engineering had never been a subject of mine.

Drudge had been studying the floor carefully but declared that there were no tracks in this section of the corridor. After that information, with Longhelim leading, we moved down the rough hewn tunnel. As we approached, I could see that there were small wooden braces which cunningly supported the tunnel. They were difficult to see in the darkness.

We were not particularly quiet but we were also approached an area which was emitting a steady but loud hissing sound. The curtain of steam on the ceiling seemed to be thickening and finally we came to a pipe which seemed to have a vent. This vent had an obvious valve and was emitting hot steam. Even though my engineering skill was very limited, it did not take a genius to work out that that the hot steam was supposed to be going to the surface, heating the ambient region and that if the vents in the pipes had been opened than the hot steam would stay down here, causing the temperature above to plummet.

So, that was the mystery of the freezing surface temperature solved. The new mystery was who had done it and why.

Irritatingly, I couldn’t find the valve mechanism to close the valve but John stepped forward, promptly found it and shut it down. At least now we knew what we had to do. Find the valves and shut them; and probably find and defeat the individuals who had opened them in the first place; on second thoughts, they would probably find us.

As we progressed down the narrow corridor, it was obvious that Victor had not grown used to his new armour as yet; he kept scraping against the rock. It was quite noisy but thankfully, the escaping steam covered a great deal of the noise. It did not cover it enough unfortunately.

Longhelim had come to a large open area with several exits. It was also inhabited. A quartet of large humanoids had leapt up from a table where they had been sitting and were bounding towards Longhelim. They were tall, burly, with small, fierce eyes and light skin. A small pair of tusks jutted from their lower jaws.

“Hobgoblins”: a shout from Longhelim.

However, we were all behind him and there was little we could do. Victor tried to move forward but there was just no room in the tunnel beside Longhelim. As they approached, we could see that the hobgoblins were armed with shortswords which glistened, obviously coated with something nasty. They were armoured but with metal shirts covering their torsos. Victor had one of those. I had seen him sleeping in it; it was called a chain shirt. It obviously gave them great flexibility.

A short vicious fight ensued. Longhelim was more than equal to this enemy tetrarchy although he was struck several times. The poison on the blades, whatever it was, did not seem to affect him and Victor moved out of the way, allowing Felix to move in and heal the paladin from the rear. These tactics allowed him to prevail fairly quickly. The hobgoblins were fierce and they fought with a certain amount of controlled fury and good tactical movement but Longhelim’s greater strength ultimately told.

Felix used our newly acquired healing wand to heal Longhelim’s slashes. We piled the hobgoblin corpses to one side and then John silently moved down one of the exits, this one running almost parallel in the direction we had used. He returned quite rapidly, saying that there were two more hobgoblins sleeping in an opening up the corridor.

Then Drudge moved into the centre of the opening where we had had our battle to check for tracks. He then motioned for John to come forward. The latter did and moved towards another of the exits. He glanced inside and then rapidly ran back:

“We’re about to have company. Get ready!”

He was quickly followed by two hobgoblins, running into the opening, glistening swords at the ready. Victor and Longhelim both moved forward confidently and Victor swung and almost sliced his opponent in half. Longhelim also struck but his was left standing and was quickly followed by another, who dodged and weaved his way past Victor and positioned himself to flank Longhelim. At this point, I noticed that two more of the enemy had appeared from the tunnel which John had scouted initially. They had moved so quickly, they were almost next to me!

I wanted save my magic so I stepped back and Victor moved to block the tunnel, slicing the first opponent as he did so. He was obviously becoming very familiar with the Living Blade of Innenotdar. Drudge was busy shooting at the hobgoblins but Longhelim was again being stabbed by the flanking enemy. Felix had to move forward and use his healing powers. I tried a couple of small cantrips against the enemy facing Victor, but they proved resilient to them; not surprisingly; it was weak magic.

Drudge was then confronted by two more hobgoblins running from a new tunnel. He stepped back and Longhelim stepped sideways to give him a chance to shoot. The paladin had just dispatched another of the enemy when one of the new hobgoblins ran forward and positioned himself to flank the paladin again. Foolishly though, he also placed himself next to Victor, who sliced his last enemy and then smoothly struck the newly arrived hobgoblin in the same stroke, felling both at the same time. This left just one last hobgoblin, who quickly fell to Longhelim.

Despite our victory, Longhelim had been stabbed several times again and Felix hurried to tend to his wounds, especially as several of them were infused with the stuff that had been coated on the blades. Longhelim did not seem to suffer from it, but Felix cleaned them just in case. One could not be too careful.

As Felix was doing this, we kept watch. John said that he had seen a bunch of sleeping pallets in the last opening he had scouted if that was what glancing into it could be called. He said he had counted more than a couple of dozen. That was the amount of enemy we had met so far so there were likely to be several more around.

Another thought struck me. Hobgoblins were renowned for their warrior culture and certainly the enemy we had met so far was tactically very aware but they were lightly armed and armoured, scouts and foragers. If they were going to shut off the steam to the surface, they must have known they were going to attract a lot of attention very quickly; so they must have had a plan or if not a plan at least a reasonable force down here; where were the warriors and shamans?

I mentioned this to Victor who told me that it was a good thought and one about which to be mindful but there was no point in worrying about something of which we had no knowledge; deal with the here and now.

While we discussed this, John had gone inside the cave which had contained the sleeping pallets. He called out that it seemed safe and for us to join him at the entrance.

Once we entered, I could see that there in addition to the pallets there were also arms racks with various weapons as well as several exits; finally, towards the far wall, there was another open vent which John was dealing with. Again, he managed to find the valve and close it. As previously, there had been a curtain of steam in that part of the cave but once the vent was closed, the steam dissipated and another door was revealed.

John, kneeling next to it, said: “Longhelim, I want to take a look at this door. Keep a watch on the other corridors”.

Interesting; he was giving orders without even thinking about it when he was engaged in his expertise. It was to everyone else’s credit that they just took position near the other exits in case the other hobgoblins appeared. Judging by the number of pallets, at least a pair was still unaccounted for.

With a grunt, John pushed the door and it opened. He called everyone else:

“Short corridor, small fortified doors. These look like jail cells. Longhelim, please keep watch while I go and see what I can find out.”

With that, Longhelim moved to the door while John disappeared inside the corridor. Everyone else still kept watch on the other exits.

A little time later, I could hear a brief conversation but obviously with someone new. The voice was strange, crackly, and almost reminded me of a tone I was hoping not to hear for a long time: the crackling of the flame from the Fire Forest of Innenotdar. I was intensely curious but I was also aware that we were in the middle of a potentially very dangerous environment so I waited until we were all called over from our watch.

Once Longhelim summoned us, I turned and stared. The paladin was next to a humanoid figure; it was very difficult to make it out; because it was made of fire; or one could say that it was fire in the shape of a humanoid. With the exception that it was obviously something from the Elemental Plane of Fire, I did not have the slightest idea of what it was and I had some scholarship of the elemental planes; for the sake of convenience, I decided to think of it as a fire elemental of some sort.

As I was staring, the being turned and spoke into the corridor, probably at John:

“There is another prisoner in one of the jail cells; a human woman. She has been badly beaten,” it crackled, in Common, conveniently.

I approached again and just looked at this flaming being, trying to understand where it had come from, what it was doing here, why it was here. A hundred other questions sped through my mind.

Then, there was shout from the corridor beyond Longhelim and suddenly all the questions were swept from my head. John appeared from another cell, partly dragging, partly carrying another still form, wrapped in his cloak; there was no mistaking that short, white blond hair. It was Torrent! We had found her! I was so relieved! I had been feeling dreadfully guilty. I was aware that although our expedition was absolutely vital and saving lives on the surface, the longer we delayed the search for Torrent, the more likely it was that she was dead or being taken somewhere away from Seaquen.

Instead, we had found her, here in the tunnels.

My interest in the fire being was lost momentarily while we all crowded around Torrent. We could see that behind John’s cloak, she had been stripped of all her clothing, badly beaten and her face had not been spared. She was unconscious, knocked out. Felix immediately administered some healing and she began to stir. She opened her eyes, looked at us blearily and smiled through a blood encrusted mouth, muttering:

“I knew you’d find me”.

Then she sat up, groaned and looked around her, still groggy.

At this point, our first guest spoke in his unsettling crackle:

“I don’t know who you are but I hope you are from Seaquen. My name is Jibrand and I am from the Plane of Fire. I have been taken prisoner by the druid Toma and his lackey, the wizard Ivellios. Toma is a powerful elf who has been given strange powers by the Elder Elementals of the demi-plane of Vule. This demi-plane is beyond a portal that can be found in the steam room through that exit.”

He pointed at one of the southern exits.

“It is likely that Ivellios is also down there, in the steam room. Toma will be on Vule.”

He looked at us and we returned his gaze. I cleared my throat and then said:

“I am still a little puzzled. Toma the druid, Ivellios the wizard, the demi-plane of Vule, whatever that may be; the steam room. Very good, but what does this have to do with Seaquen, Torrent and finally us?”

Jibrand looked at me again and I could have sworn as if the flames flickered a little quicker as if he was frustrated. Then they calmed down again.

“Ah. I thought you had come down here for us. I see that I will have to begin at the beginning.”

“Yes, a good place to start” a soft mutter from Victor.

Jibrand continued:

“Vule is that strangest of places. It is where the Elemental Plane of Water and the Elemental Plane of Fire meet. It is also a demi plane in its own right. As these two elements collide against each other, they produce a huge amount of heat and a great deal of it is manifested through steam. Long ago, someone or something built a machine which can trap this steam and guide it to the surface, thus creating the heating for the houses above.

Toma and Ivellios have used your friend Torrent as an unwitting pawn to turn off this machine. It is normally inside a room that is defended by very powerful magic but only against evil beings. Those who are known to be good can enter this chamber unhindered and they used magical influence to command you friend Torrent to do their bidding and switch it off. It is imperative that the machine be switched back on and that Toma be stopped. He plans a war on the world using armies of elementals; he is already using his powers to cause the temperature above to freeze; soon, he and his armies will march and the destruction of your city will begin!”

This was all quite dramatic and I had no doubt that Jibrand fully believed this but I had my doubts; not least because if it was as easy as this, why was this Toma the first person to lead an army of elementals into the prime material plane but I stopped thinking to continue to listen to the flaming humanoid.

“Toma has been given a certain mastery of the elemental planes and he has been favoured by the great Elder Elementals; but at this stage, he can still be stopped. Although he is powerful, he is arrogant and contemptuous of anyone trying to oppose him. It has been a long time since he has faced a worthy foe. I can guide you through Vule to meet him.

First, you need to go to the room with the machine which is through there. Beware Ivellios!”

Again, he pointed dramatically down one of the exits at the far end of the cave.

With the speech over, a few of my questions had been answered; I agreed with Jibrand about one thing: this Toma had to be stopped; that meant that we would have to go to Vule looking for him since, when we turned the machine on again, he would just come out of the demi plane and get someone to turn it off, as soon as we left; meaning we would have to return and…... That would get very irritating, very quickly.

So, with a quick consultation amongst ourselves, we decided to head down the exit which led to the steam room as Jibrand called it.

Before we did so, we managed to find some armour and wapons for Torrent; it was certainly nothing like her usual equipment but at least it was serviceable and she now had a weapon, namely one of the shorts words from the hobgoblins. She even managed to grab a shield from somewhere. There were several arms racks here.

It was a short corridor which led to another opening which had several exits leading out of it. We did not have any chance to study it though as in the middle room, amongst several tables and stools stood the figure of an elf. He was surrounded by a strange greenish flame, almost as if he was on fire himself, obviously some sort of defensive spell. It was powerful magic.

A contemptuous, nasal voice rang out:

“You think you have reached this room because you are strong? Because you have rescued your little friend? You know nothing! You are nothing! You have witnessed but the least aspect of my power. You are the dust beneath my feet and now you will die by my spells of fire.”

With that, he released an incredibly powerful spell of fire with devastating accuracy. It resembled a ball of flame and burst all around us with everyone being badly burned. Thankfully, I had my spell of fire protection but that was not enough to stop such a conflagration completely. It felt as if my blood boiled and when it lifted, I could see that everyone else was horribly charred and suffering from the same effects.

Despite this unearthly magic, we reacted. Drudge immediately shot an arrow towards him but it bounced off his magical defences. Then Victor moved forward but could not quite reach him; John turned invisible and I managed to put my spell of speed up on everyone with the exception of John, whom I could not see.

Then Ivellios cast another spell, the same as that cast at us by the tiefling wizard in the swamp, which resembled an enormous, sticky spider’s web; it caught everyone in it. However, not everything went to plan for Ivellios: first, with a great show of strength, Victor tore himself away from the spell, moved and struck the elf with his falchion; as he did so, there was a flash of cold blue light from the shielding surrounding him and some of this flame licked out at Victor, obviously causing some hurt; despite this, the blow did make Ivellios lose a little of his sneer. If Victor caught someone with that blade of his, they certainly noticed it. Then Jibrand moved next to me and using his flame, burnt part of the stuff away from my body; finally, Felix acted as if the spell was not even there. He moved normally through the sticky mess, managing to reach Victor and touching him, providing some much needed healing I assumed. The warrior had been badly hurt by the initial ball of flame.

Ivellios grinned ferally and pointed a finger at the warrior. Two rays of flame shot out of his finger; one missed and burst harmlessly against the wall. The other hit Victor squarely in his chest. Despite this, Victor struck him again and Ivellios frowned and cast another spell. Another ball of fire enveloped most of the group and this time Felix fell over and burst into flame. Ivellios gaped at this in disbelief. It was obvious he had never seen this before.

At this point, things became even more desperate. Appearing out of thin air – obviously negating an invisibility spell – another hobgoblin appeared, as he stuck two short swords into Victor’s neck; the warrior toppled over immediately, again bursting into flame. This new antagonist was wearing a fine set of leather, a cloak and numerous pouches and purses on his body. All the equipment looked very well kept and, by its colour, was obviously designed to allow him to move in darkness; it seemed to almost absorb light. Even his sword blades had been blackened and his face was covered in black paint. He also had a collection of potion bottles on his belt.

I managed to cast a spell at him which also caught Ivellios. It was a shimmering cloud full of little silver particles which could blind; the elf ignored it but the hobgoblin was affected. Longhelim finally reached the hobgoblin and hit him; he had been unable to reach Ivellios. He, in the meantime, had cast a spell at me but several missiles of force suddenly veered and instead of hitting me, were absorbed by the magical brooch I had taken from the body of the Inquisitor we had defeated just outside the Fire Forest. I was unharmed! Unfortunately, I was also running out of spells.

Longhelim moved towards Ivellios but the latter cast another spells, this one producing a curtain of flames which enveloped the warrior and caused him to collapse on the floor, yet another person bursting into flames. That left myself, John and Drudge as well as Torrent. The priestess, although newly recovered, moved to the wizard and engaged him, despite her ill fitting armour and unnatural pallor.

It was time for me to move forward. I had no spells; I drew my staff and advanced to the hobgoblin. He had to be dealt with. The blindness only lasted for a short period of time. As I neared, I noticed that his sword blades were covered with some sort of paste. I swung at him but staff fighting was not among my strengths. Then Longhelim stirred and rose, striking the enemy with his sword. This time, the hobgoblin finally collapsed. Mentally, I thanked the invisible John and his divine abilities. Then both Longhelim and I advanced towards the elven wizard.

Ivellios, now looking a little desperate, retreated and drew something out of a pouch on his belt. Suddenly, a huge whip appeared in thin air and began to draw back. We were within its reach it struck me; at this point everything went black.

I groaned and stirred. Everything hurt, right down to the tips of my toes. I was barely conscious and looking around, I saw that no one else was much better off. Both Victor and Longhelim looked as if they had just walked through a curtain of fire and although Victor had been healed, the wounds around his neck were still visible. I was stunned that he was still alive! When I saw those short swords going into his neck, I couldn’t believe that anyone could survive wounds like that. Yet, here he was, groggy, half burnt, bloody but alive.

As we did more healing, I was told that as the whip wrapped itself around me, John had healed Longhelim who managed to strike Ivellios. Apparently, the elf had no answer to that and collapsed to the ground, undone by the “dust beneath his feet”.

Suddenly, as we were beginning to search the opening, two more hobgoblins charged us with bellows of rage but both Victor and Longhelim stepped forward and swiftly dealt with them. Good thing too as I had no spells whatsoever at my disposal.

Once that brief unpleasantness was over, we looked around. We could see that there were several exits out of this open area; Jibrand pointed at one of them and said that that one led to the demi plane of Vule. Another led to an area that was blocked by a multitude of pipes, rusty with age and disuse. Nearby was a scattering of old tools but lying amongst them was a hammer that seemed to be unaffected by the wear of age. It shone out like a beacon among them.

Another tunnel led for a brief distance and then the rock turned green; a little further on, the rhythmic crashing of waves could be heard so we turned back.

We examined the steam machine room. Through a grate which was also the floor, a long way below, we could see a fiery wall of magma encroaching into the edge of water. Where the two met, steam erupted in great upward gouts. It was these that were meant to be captured by the machine and directed into the pipe system.

Thankfully, Torrent was able to turn the machine back on.

We also found a trap door which led upwards but after examination, we left it alone. Caution won over curiosity. We were in no shape to defend ourselves against anything at this time; so taking as much as we could, we retraced our steps out of the tunnels and in the darkness of the night, walked to the Lyceum. Jibrand said he would wait for us below.

I was very happy as amongst the pieces we had found on the elven wizard’s body, was his book of magical formulae, which I hoped would prove to be a very fertile base from which I could develop my own magic.

I wasn’t sure but as we walked back, I thought I could already detect a change in the temperature outside.

At the Lyceum, we met with Simeon and reported our activities to him so far. He did not say anything but he looked amazed. Then he ordered two of his students to bring various healing salves and potions which enabled us to rest without being woken up by the pain.

Even in our state, it was difficult not to notice the amount of people who suddenly had something to do in the Lyceum, despite it being very late at night. The corridors became very crowded with people who wanted to look at us. Some of them at least had some sort of pretence but many of them just crowded outside the door and gaped. I didn’t even want to think of the rumours that would be flying around the Lyceum by morning.

As we rested, I had several brainstorms and revelations. I saw how Ivellios had cast various spells, understood what he had done and even during that night, I had to get up and finish a couple of formulae in my spell book. It was as if what I had seen Ivellios doing were the last pieces of a puzzle. I felt stronger and my magic felt stronger; it was baptism of fire in many ways but it had been worth it.