Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (3-1-24)

[EternalNewbie]

Okay, here's a short little update to keep the thread from vanishing into obscurity. I'll also take the opportunity to encourage people to critique my writing as well. Like many others posting in this forum, I'm writing this for a variety of reasons, one of which is to improve on writing skills, which have become a bit rusty in the last few years. So go ahead and don't be shy to let me know what you like, and more importantly, what you don't.

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"Well done," Arbaq's voice issued calmly from behind his array of silken screens. "Well done indeed. You have certainly surpassed my expectations." His voice was as smooth and unruffled as always, but Khalid thought he detected a hint of amusement. "Your promised reward awaits you in that chest over by the wall."

As Gorak moved to retrieve their payment, Khalid glanced around the room for the tenth time, hoping that some nubile young nymph would emerge for a dip in the pool. The room however, which was the same one they had met Arbaq in before, remained depressingly empty much to Khalid's disappointment. Realizing with a start that he had lost track of the conversation, Khalid focused back in on what Arbaq was saying.

"…and perhaps now we can discuss a more permanent arrangement?" Arbaq asked.

"Alright," Gorak grunted. "Let's hear your offer."

"It's simple. I manage an extensive trading concern and often run into situations that demand persons of particular talents, as you are already aware. I will reward you appropriately for each undertaking, as well as cover any incidentals incurred in achieving a satisfactory resolution. Anything you happen to acquire during the course of completing a task that is not specifically related to the task itself is yours to keep. In return, I ask only that you inform me if you are leaving the city and of course that you not enter into the employ of any of my competitors. You do not have to accept any job you do not wish to, however at that point we may need to reevaluate our relationship."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal," Gorak rumbled.

"I assure you," Arbaq continued, "that this partnership can only benefit all of us. Together, we can make a great deal of money my friends. If you need some time to think about it, there is no particular hurry although I would prefer an answer sooner rather than later."

"Dunno if that'll be necessary," Gorak replied. "So far you've made me wealthier than I've ever been, and although I ain't much for cities, I gotta say, I kinda like this place."

Shayla glanced around the room with a calculating eye. "A girl could get used to living like this," she said brightly. "Count me in." She looked at Khalid and cocked her head slightly. "So, Khalid, what about you? Isn't this what you were looking for?"

"Ah, yes, quite." Khalid muttered. "Ah, there is one small, rather insignificant problem that I should make you, ah, aware, yes, quite aware of." Khalid paused slightly, trying to think of a way to cast it in the best light possible. Stumped, he sighed and just forged ahead. "Ah, yes, I seem to be wanted in Gem-Sharad for, ah, treason. Yes, quite."

"Indeed." Khalid could hear the question in Arbaq's voice.

"Ah, it was the result of a small dispute. I, ah, through no fault of my own I assure you, angered a reasonably powerful man, who, ah, yes, saw fit to put a bounty, yes, bounty on my head," Khalid stammered. "I ah, do not have the means to attend to it yet and may not be able to return to Gem-Sharad for some time."

"How much?"

"Ah, yes, one thousand sultanas." Khalid winced slightly as he waited to be thrown out of Arbaq's mansion.

"Hmmm." Arbaq paused as though weighing the options. "Substantial, but certainly not extravagant. For the moment, I need you here in Shalazar anyhow, so this should be nothing more than a slight inconvenience. Once rumor spreads that you are working for me, most of the skilled locals won't risk it. Not for that amount of money. If and when I need you to return to Gem-Sharad, I'll make some inquiries, and see if we can't get this little mess sorted out."

"Ah, yes, quite." Khalid breathed a sigh of relief. "In that case, I'm your man."

"Excellent. I already have another matter that needs your attention. An old acquaintance of mine went missing some time ago. I want you to search his house and see if you can find any clue to his whereabouts."

"That's it?" Shayla asked, somewhat surprised.

"Not exactly," Arbaq replied. "The first man I sent in there never returned, and the city has since condemned the house and declared it off limits. The man's name was Achmed Abdul-Khaliq and he was a devout follower of Fezayl, as well as a renowned artificer and theologian. As you may already know, the holy men of these lands lost their conduit to the heavens at the same time the wizards lost their power."*

"Ah, yes, you know about the misfortunes of the White tower?" Khalid interjected, somewhat surprised.

"Indeed. They have not been entirely successful at keeping that little secret concealed. Rumors are beginning to spread and the truth is there to be found, for those that have the means to look." Arbaq replied.

"I remember that time," Shayla said. "There were riots in Gem-Sharad. Temples were burned and looted and a fair number of atrocities committed against the priests." She shivered slightly.

"Yes," Arbaq agreed. "Those were indeed dangerous times. The people blamed the priests for the gods disappearance, although it is widely suspected that the Sultan himself had a hand in organizing those little demonstrations. If that was the case, he did a masterful job. The clergy have all but abandoned Gem-Sharad".

Arbaq paused for a second before continuing. "However, that is of only marginal relevance to the issue at hand. After he lost his ability to communicate with his god, Achmed became introverted and erratic. I saw him only twice afterwards. The first time, he claimed it was a test from the gods, and that his faith was strong. The second time was some months after that." Arbaq paused again. "He was no longer so certain of himself. He looked terrible, like a man consumed by a purpose that had been thwarted at every turn. He confided in me that he was expending the last of his power in an attempt to reach his god. After that, I heard from him no more. It was then that I dispatched one of my better investigators to look into the matter. As I mentioned before he never returned and the city has since boarded up the house."

"Right." Gorak grunted. "Simple enough. We bust in, grab anything that looks like it might be important and report back here. That sum it up pretty good?"

"Indeed. If you need anything, simply send a runner to my estate, and I'll make the appropriate arrangements. I do have other matters to attend to, however, and may not be available immediately, so take that into consideration when planning your next move. Now, unless there is anything else you need this evening, the other business I mentioned demands my attention." And with that, Arbaq curtly dismissed them.

As they walked down the path towards the front gates of Arbaq's estate, Khalid spoke up. "Ah, yes, perhaps on the way back to the inn, we should take a look at this cleric's ah, domicile, as it were, to get an idea of the layout."

"Ya. Good idea." Gorak grunted.

The trio walked in silence for a while through the upper class neighborhoods of Shalazar. They found the cleric's house nestled in between two stately manors. A shoulder high stone wall surrounded a modest front yard. Months of neglect and the searing desert sun had combined to turn the grounds into a barren wasteland. Most of the grasses and flowers had been scorched brown by the heat, and what hardy plants remained were wild and overgrown. The house itself was only a single story, longer than it was deep, as near as Khalid could tell. The windows and front door had been boarded up securely and although there was a chain around the front gate there appeared to be enough slack to allow them to squeeze through.

"Wow. Those city workers really take their job seriously." Shayla remarked as they walked past.

"Yup," Gorak rumbled, "it's boarded up pretty good, but it won't be no problem to get in I don't think."

As they walked back to the inn, they discussed their plans for the next few days. Khalid insisted on time to prepare and it was eventually decided to make the initial foray in three days. Khalid spent the intervening time locked in his room, hunched over a towering stack of paper. Alternating his time between his research and scribing scrolls, he emerged only to eat and of course, wash the ink from his hands down at the baths.

On the morning of the third day, Khalid was awoken to Gorak's gravelly voice from outside his door. "C'mon," Gorak growled. "Let's get going."

"Ah, what time is it?" Khalid groaned, groping around in the darkness for his robes.

"Time to get going," Gorak snarled.

Shayla looked even less impressed than Khalid to be roused at such an ungodly hour but amazingly enough, she only complained for half of the journey to the cleric's house before settling in to a sullen pout. Her mood improved immeasurably however as they squeezed through the front gate and began sideling around the edge of the house. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten as Gorak dug around in his pack and pulled out a small shovel. Just as he was about to push his way through the dying shrubbery around the back wall of the house, he stopped and looked at Khalid.

"What the hell is that thing?" Gorak growled.

"Ah, what?" Khalid asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

"That." Gorak pointed at Khalid's stomach. "You don't even have pants on, why in the nine hells do you need a belt that big, much less the suspenders that are attached to it?"

"Ah, it holds my spell components, among other things. Yes, quite." Khalid replied somewhat defensively. He'd had the belt specially made by a master leatherworker and designed it to hold the innumerable scrolls and pouches that he habitually carried around. It was dark black leather, tooled and polished with sterling silver buckles and had cost him a fair bit. All in all, Khalid was moderately proud of it.

Gorak muttered something inaudible under his breath, and then moved forward to attack the boards covering one of the windows at the rear of the house. Levering the spade in between two of the planks, he loosened it enough to get his thick fingers behind it. Then dropping the shovel to the ground, he grasped the board with both hands and pulled with all his strength. The nails holding it to the window frame gave a protesting shriek as Gorak pulled the board free and flung it into the yard. In short order he had pulled several more boards free and cleared most of the window. He was about to smash in the window when he suddenly turned to Shayla, with a broad grin on his face. "Darling, why don't you do the honors?"

"With pleasure," Shayla grinned, the excitement evident in her voice. She and Khalid moved to opposite sides of the window, while Gorak took a step back. Shayla cocked her crossbow, then smashed the butt through the window.

Gorak moved through the opening quickly. As he landed on the other side, he gave a sharp hiss of pain. "Watch it, there's glass everywhere," he growled.

Shayla hopped through next, landing silently on the other side. Khalid's progress was somewhat less graceful as he managed to both tear his robe and cut his hand on the way through. Cursing quietly, he gathered his wits and peered around the room. Through the darkness he could barely make out the shape of a long dining table surrounded by chairs.

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid began, "I could use some light…"

"Quiet," Gorak growled. "There's nothing dangerous in here and I wanna listen for a second."

Khalid blushed in the darkness and then strained to listen as well. The seconds ticked by as the three stood in silence, then finally Gorak spoke. "Alright, seems clear. Shayla, give us some light."

With a word and a gesture, Shayla flooded the room with clear, white light. They were indeed in a dining room. Ten chairs, four on each side and one at either end, surrounded the long, polished wooden table. In the far corner of the room was a large china hutch, filed with dishes and silverware. Directly behind the head of the table, on the west wall, hung an elaborate tapestry over a large set of double doors. The tapestry was emblazoned with a strange crest, which Khalid presumed was the symbol of the man's god. On the south wall was another, smaller door, framed by portraits of stern looking men with dour expressions.

"Well, there ain't nothing unusual in here," Gorak growled as he moved around the edge of the table. "I say we check out this room over…" Gorak grunted, the air exploding from his lungs, as one of the chairs hopped over and butted him in the stomach. Khalid blinked in disbelief as the huge armchair at the end of the table followed suit, wobbling over towards Gorak, who was doubled over gasping for breath. When it reached him, it spun around and leapt into the air, slamming its headrest into Gorak's face. Gorak staggered backwards and spit out a mouthful of blood.

Khalid, dumbfounded by the scene, began to giggle helplessly. "Ah, Gorak, you seemed to have angered the furniture."

"I can see that, you ass," Gorak roared. "Now stop standing around and help me."

"Ah, just watch exactly do you want me to…" Khalid's sentence trailed off as the large china cabinet in the corner began to rock back and forth. Then suddenly its drawers flew open and Khalid uttered a startled yelp as an ornate silverware knife buried itself in the window frame beside his head. Shayla immediately dove for cover behind the end of the table as a delicate china teacup was ejected from the cabinet and smashed into Khalid's face, bloodying his nose.

Gorak in the meantime had drawn his cudgel and was swinging furiously at the dancing furniture. He caught one of the chairs with a glancing blow that toppled it over, but it immediately righted itself, apparently no worse for the blow. A third chair began to move and yet another trembled violently as though shaken by some gigantic unseen hand. The chairs capered and danced around Gorak, leaping into the air every so often in a comical attempt to strike him.

Shayla, from her position at the end of the table was methodically loading and firing her crossbow into the china cabinet. After the second shot, she cursed. "This isn't working."

Gorak, starting to tire from the constant battering, growled, "We've gotta figure out what's controlling them." Then he brought down his cudgel, smashing the armrest of one of the chairs.

Khalid, who had been biding his time, jumped into the fray as Gorak stepped back. Chanting quickly he produced his most damaging spell and engulfed two of the chairs in a cone of searing embers. Both immediately burst into flames. Neither chair seemed particularly concerned.

"That's just great Khalid," Gorak roared as he tried desperately to keep the flaming furniture at bay. "Now why don't you just knock me out and really make this fight interesting!"

"Ah, sorry, yes quite." Khalid apologized as he ducked a silver goblet and crouched down beside Shayla who had abandoned her crossbow and was now chanting with her eyes closed. When she opened them, she stared past Khalid with a look of intense concentration on her face.

Khalid was vindicated however, as one of the burning chairs flared up and then collapsed into a pile of smoldering sticks. Gorak brought his cudgel down hard on the other chair, shattering its back and splintering the seat. The wounded chair hobbled pathetically into the corner of the room and then fell motionless to the ground. The third chair took the opportunity to butt Gorak in the back, eliciting a sharp grunt of pain from the half-orc.

"There's magic in the room," Shayla cried. "And it's powerful."

"Don't you people have anything better to do than state the obvious?" Gorak snarled. Then his knees buckled as a huge, silver serving tray banged off his head.

"I can see it now," Shayla continued. "It cuts through half of the room. I can't tell what type it is."

"It's the type that makes furniture come alive!" Gorak cursed. With a roar, he dropped his cudgel and tackled the chair. It writhed and twisted in his grip but Gorak held firm. For a few moments Gorak stood motionless as he strained against the magic animating the chair. Sweat rolled down his face, and mingled with the blood streaming from his mouth.

Khalid, watching the burly half-orc grapple with an elaborately carved teakwood chair, leaned in close to Shayla and whispered, "That is undoubtedly the strangest thing I have ever seen."

Shayla nodded in agreement then peeked up over the edge of the table. "Well, at least the china hutch is out of ammunition."

Slowly Gorak dragged the chair back towards Khalid and Shayla and closer to the edge of the magic aura. With one final heave he twisted his body and pitched the chair against the back wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces. He stood there silently for a moment breathing heavily and glaring at Khalid and Shayla. "Next time," Gorak growled in between breaths, "you help me." He pointed at Shayla. "And you," he jabbed Khalid in the chest with one of his thick fingers, "don't!"

They patched themselves up as best they could, with the aid of both Gorak's magic and his skill in the healing arts. The china hutch and the other chair on the edge of the aura continued to twitch and jerk, but seemed for the most part to be relatively impotent now.

Gorak groaned and stood up, the vertebrae in his back popping audibly as he stretched. He reached down and picked up his backpack, which jingled with pilfered silverware. "So," he grumbled, "who wants to wager our friend here was eaten by his bed?"

"I'll put five, yes, five sultana's on an armoire." Khalid snickered.

"Boys, boys, boys. We've got more important things to do," Shayla admonished. "Stay focused."

Gorak raised an eyebrow. "She's telling us to stay focused?" he chuckled. "We'd better get her out of here Khalid, I think that magic is starting to affect her."

Shayla dismissed him with a toss of her auburn curls. "Well we still haven't found what we're looking for have we? And besides, there's gotta be something better in here than dented silverware. So which door are we going through?"

"Yes," Khalid replied, becoming serious again. "Which door indeed?"

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Notes:
*Heh, you might think that removing clerics from the world would cause problems, but nobody in our group ever plays clerics. Ever.

 

[pogre]

Groups are so different...

We always have a cleric it's the arcane classes no one seems to favor in my groups.

 

[EternalNewbie]

Okay, here's a new update only 4 days after the last one, but try not to get too spoiled, I'm not sure I can maintain this pace for long. If I recall correctly, the end of this update is an actual stopping point in a game session. You'll see what I mean when you reach the bottom . Anyhow, I haven't much to say this time around, so, uh, thanks for dropping by and enjoy the show...

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"The small door." Gorak rumbled. "Big doors mean big rooms, and that means lots of furniture."

Khalid was about to point out that by following that logic, small doors meant small rooms, which meant less room to run away, but Gorak had already moved to the small door and flung it open.

"Shayla," Gorak growled. "Check it out."

Khalid placed his hand on Shayla's arm. "Ah, yes, allow me." He stepped forward and cast a simple divination spell. "The room beyond is clear, the aura barely, yes, barely emerges past the west wall." Khalid frowned. "Ah, yes, I'm unable to determine the exact nature of the magic either. Yes, quite."

"Don't really matter, does it?" Gorak grumbled. "I think we got a pretty good idea of what it does. Let's go."

Gorak moved forward warily, into what appeared to be a small study. Bookshelves lined the east wall, framing a small writing desk and two large leather armchairs were arranged around a small table in the far corner of the room. There was a door directly opposite the one they had just entered, leading south, and another one on the west wall. Khalid glanced at the bookshelves as he entered the room, but saw nothing of immediate interest. The man seemed to have a penchant for theology and bad poetry from Khalid's cursory inspection. The writing desk too, was devoid of any clues as to the man's whereabouts. Sheets of parchment were stacked neatly to one side and vials of ink, now hardened, were lined up meticulously alongside perfectly sharpened quills.

"Nothing." Gorak grunted after poking around the room. "Let's move through this door. I ain't in the mood to wrassle any more furniture just yet."

The room to the south was the cleric's bedroom. A large, four poster bed lay against the east wall and a full length, dust covered mirror hung on the far wall. Shafts of sunlight poked through the boarded up windows and cut golden swaths through the room. A huge iron bound book lay on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Oooh," Shayla purred as she pushed past Gorak into the room, "I always wanted a bed like this."

"Ah, wait, Shayla, no!" Khalid spoke too late, as Shayla hopped on the bed. She leapt off it as though she had been shot out of a ballista as an enormous cloud of dust exploded from the mattress. Coughing and choking, they retreated back into the study until the air cleared.

Shayla had the good graces to at least look apologetic. "Umm, sorry. I wasn’t thinking."

Gorak muttered something under his breath, and moved back into the room. He stopped to examine the book on the nightstand before picking it up and blowing the dust off it.

"Ah, what is it?" Khalid asked.

Gorak held it up so Khalid could read the title. "Ah, Classical Interpretations of the Doctrine of Fezayl: Articles I through CDXXXVIII.II. That sounds dreadful. Yes, quite."

Gorak grunted. "Probably, but it might give us some idea of what happened to him. I'll take a look at it later."

Khalid moved over to the nightstand and began to poke around in the cleric's personal effects as Gorak moved towards what appeared to be a closet. Gorak opened the door and then muttered, "Nothing in here. Just some old robes and stuff." He reached out to touch one of them and it crumbled into dust.

Khalid whirled around as the closet door slammed shut with a crash and Gorak staggered backwards, coughing heavily.

"Ah, more dust." Khalid said sympathetically. Then a look of concern crossed his face as Gorak sank to one knee and began to gasp for air. His coughs took on a thick, tearing sound as blood flecked his lips. "Gorak," Khalid asked, "are you, ah, alright?" He was becoming alarmed.

Gorak however, waved away Khalid's help as the coughing fit slowly subsided. Somewhat unsteadily, Gorak rose to his feet and took a few deep breaths, a look of pain etched on his features. Grimacing at his blood and mucus stained hand, he wiped it on his leather breeches and growled, "I dunno what in the nine hells is in there, but it's more than just dust. Some kinda spores or something."

Shayla sighed. "Well there's nothing in here. Our only options lead back into rooms blanketed in that aura."

"Ah, well perhaps we should regroup then, yes?" Khalid asked.

Gorak grumbled, "Ya, maybe. That stuff just kicked the hell out of me, whatever it was and if we have to go room by room, smashing every piece of furniture from one end of the house to the other, I could use a rest."

"And it's not like another day, yes, will make any difference. He's been missing for months now. Yes, quite." Khalid added.

That decided the trio exited the building the way they had entered and moved back around the side of the house. Their timing however, left much to be desired. Just as they were slipping out through the front gate, two city guardsmen came marching down the street.

"What are you doing in there?" one of the guardsmen demanded.

"Ah, yes, well you see," Khalid stalled, his mind racing frantically. "We're looking, yes, looking for my, ah friend, yes friend." Khalid continued, realizing he was treading dangerously close to the truth. "Because ah, he, ah, owes me money. Yes, that's it, he owes me money. Yes, quite." Khalid smiled innocently at the guards.

"Well, good luck collecting," one of the guards replied, eyeing the group suspiciously. "That guy ain't been seen in months and that place is off limits, by the order of the city council."

"Ah, yes, quite. That certainly would explain all the boards." Khalid agreed. Then a cunning look crossed his face as he leaned in close to the guards and whispered, "Ah, yes, he owes me quite, yes, quite a bit of money. I would appreciate it if you forgot, yes, forgot that we were ever around here." He pressed a sultana into the guard's hand.

"Whatever," the guard shrugged. "Just stay away from that house."

The matter settled, they returned to the inn to lick their wounds and rest. They spent the rest of the day relaxing in the terraced garden, drinking coffee and discussing the best way to approach the rest of the house. Khalid however, found himself distracted and irritable for most of the day. He couldn't seem to concentrate on the conversation and a strange buzzing sound, akin to a swarm of tiny insects, hovered just on the edge of his awareness. Finally, after half-heartedly poking at his supper, Khalid pushed his plate away and sighed.

"Khalid, is something bothering you," Shayla asked. "You hardly touched your second helping."

"Ah, it's nothing," he replied. "I just need some rest, yes, rest, after this morning's excitement." He stood up and left the table, heading for his room upstairs. Sleep took a long time coming, and when it finally did, his dreams were twisted and incoherent. Tortured and beset by strange images, Khalid sat bolt upright in his bed, gasping for breath. Lighting a lantern, Khalid rushed over to his desk and began furiously writing.

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Gorak picked up a date from the platter in front of him, and popped it in his mouth. Shayla was sitting opposite him, sipping at glass of fruit juice and idly playing with a strand of her hair. "So," Gorak grunted. "You seen Khalid yet today?"

"Nope," she replied. "Maybe he's down in the baths."

"Nah, was down there already this morning," Gorak rumbled, "didn't see him. Pounded on his door too, didn't get any answer."

"Well, maybe he went out early," Shayla suggested.

"Khalid, go out early, without having breakfast?" Gorak grumbled.

"You're right, maybe we should go check on him."

Just as they stood up from the table, they heard a shout and a crash from above them. Gorak sprinted to the stairs and raced up them, two at a time, with Shayla close behind. Khalid was standing in the hallway, naked to the waist, holding a sheaf of papers in his hand and capering about the hallway.

"I figured it out! Yes, yes, I've solved it!" he cried as he danced about. Seizing Gorak by the shoulders he began to speak quickly, "I can conceptualize, yes, conceptualize the formulae needed to ah, stabilize the anomaly, yes, quite."

Gorak brushed his hands off. "Make sense man," he growled.

"Ah, yes, yes, watch." Khalid raced into his room and returned with a coil of rope. Throwing it on the ground, he closed his eyes and began to chant. As he finished, the rope rose slowly into the air, until the tip almost brushed the ceiling.

Gorak looked less than impressed. "Ya, that's great Khalid," he growled, "you'll be a big hit at parties."

"Ah, no, that's not all. Yes, quite. Watch." Khalid grasped the rope in both hands and managed to raise himself almost a full two feet off the ground before sliding back down. "Ah, yes," Khalid stammered, turning red. "I had, ah, the wasting fever as a child, it sapped the strength, yes, strength from my hands." He took a deep breath and tried again. Aided by the magic of the spell, he climbed the rope easily this time. When he reached the top, instead of banging his head on the ceiling, he simply vanished from sight. A second later Khalid's head poked into view. "Ah, climb up, climb up," he instructed and then vanished from sight again.

As Shayla and Gorak climbed the rope, they too passed through an invisible portal and were greeted with a flat, featureless plane that extended in all directions. It was disorienting at first, as the only way to tell ground from sky was a slight darkening of the grey haze. "Nice," Gorak grunted, looking somewhat more impressed now. "How long can you hold it?"

"Ah, hours," Khalid replied gleefully. "It's not endless however, but it's large enough for our purposes. Yes, quite. If you walk too far in any direction, you will reach a boundary of sorts. And," he pulled the rope up, "when you pull in the rope, it's completely invisible and impenetrable from the outside." Khalid looked enormously pleased with himself.

They descended out of the planar void and back into the inn. Khalid, realizing that he was clad in only a loincloth, blushed and quickly returned to his room. He emerged moments later, dressed in his familiar crimson robes and joined Shayla and Gorak downstairs. Over breakfast, they decided to postpone their assault until the next morning, to give Khalid more time to prepare.

That night, while he was bent over his spell book crafting a scroll, Khalid heard a knock at his door. Rising slowly and stretching to relieve the cramped tension in his back, he walked over to the door and opened it just a crack. Seeing Shayla standing there, looking somewhat unsure of herself, he opened the door fully. "Ah, yes, Shayla, is there something I can help you with?"

"Um, no, not really I guess," she replied, "I was just checking in to see how your research was going."

"Ah, quite well, yes, quite." Khalid knew something was up now, every time he mentioned his research Shayla started yawning. "Would you like to, ah, come in?" he asked.

Shayla walked in quietly, and sat on the edge of Khalid's bed. Unsure of exactly what to do, Khalid stood by the door somewhat awkwardly as the silence lengthened. Finally, Shayla spoke. "Khalid, do you know much about magic, I mean, about the way I cast spells?"

Khalid, caught off guard by the question, stammered, "Ah, no, not really I'm afraid."

Shayla, looking downcast, practically whispered, "Oh, I see."

"Ah, it wasn't a very popular topic at the White Tower, I'm afraid," Khalid apologized. "Those who study magic tend to look down their noses at sorcerers, thinking them to be limited and uneducated." He realized that probably wasn't making her feel any better and quickly continued, "Ah, but from what I have seen of you, you are neither of those things. Yes, quite. I do know that the magic you wield is arcane, similar to mine and quite, yes, quite different from that which Gorak wields, but, ah, whereas I must study formulae to grasp at the weave of magic, it flows through you like a river. But, ah, why ask me? Surely, you know this better, yes, better than I?"

Shayla nodded. "I guess so, it's just…" she hesitated, then continued, "it's just that it's becoming easier to cast spells. I know that sounds silly, but I feel, well, most of the time I feel like a glass that's filled right to the brim, ready to spill. I'm just worried that I'm going to lose control, and something's going to happen. These last few days it's been like, well, like it was in the beginning, when I was young." Her eyes grew distant as she watched the sights only memory can provide. "Those were…difficult times."

"Ah, yes," Khalid replied, searching for the right thing to say. "Magic can be, ah, unpredictable, yes quite. But I know you, yes, I think I know you quite well now, and I know that you are stronger, yes quite stronger than you may think. You will find a way, yes, a way to control the magic, to bend it to your will, I have no doubt," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Shayla smiled slightly, "Thanks Khalid."

"Ah, but if you want, I can perhaps do some research, yes, research on the subject."

She shook her head, "No, that's alright Khalid, I do feel better now. I just wanted to talk to somebody about it I guess." She stood up and moved towards the door. "Thanks Khalid, you're a good friend."

After she had left, Khalid sat down at his writing desk and picked up his quill. He didn't start writing immediately however, still marveling over what Shayla had said. Friend, she had called him. The thought that a woman as beautiful, wealthy and powerful as Shayla would call him a friend would have been ludicrous two months ago. As he thought back over the events of the last month, the danger and the excitement, the fear and the elation, Khalid realized just how empty his life had been before he had fled Gem-Sharad. Smiling to himself as the familiar sound of quill scratching across parchment filled his ears, Khalid found himself almost anxious for the morning sun.

* * * * * * * * * *​

"So," Gorak grumbled. "Who's gonna be the first one in there."

They were standing in the study of the cleric's house, looking into what appeared to be a trophy room. The heads of various dangerous and vicious animals were mounted around the wall on plaques, each with a name and date beneath it. The room was unadorned save for a large bearskin rug in the very center. It was also bathed in the bluish glow of a powerful magic aura.

"Ah, yes, from what I can tell," Khalid said as he studied the aura, "the source of the magic is probably over in that part of the house, possibly below us as well." He waved at the southeast corner of the room.

"How much you wanna bet that rug tries to eat us?" Gorak grumbled.

"And," Shayla chimed in, "how much do you wanna bet that there's a trap door beneath it?"

"Nothing," Gorak growled. "Alright, get ready." As soon as Gorak stepped foot into the room, the rug bunched up and launched itself at Gorak, who quickly retreated out of the magical aura. The rug lay quivering in the doorway and seemed almost lifelike in its desire to attack them. Khalid began casting a spell and enshrouded the glorified carpet in a haze of flame and ash. Even as the spell left his fingertips, he heard Shayla start chanting as well. Thin, glowing discs of force streaked out from her hands and slashed into the rug, tearing deep cuts into the pelt. The rug, possessed of minimal intelligence, retreated out of sight along the wall of the trophy room.

Khalid turned to Shayla, and looked at her questioning. Shayla just winked, and mouthed the words, "You were right."

Gorak grunted, "Great. Now I've got to go lure it out again. Shayla, whatever you just did, do it again as soon as you see it." With that, he stepped forward into the trophy room.

Again the rug scuttled forward, still smoldering slightly from the effects of Khalid's spell. The fanged maw bit Gorak on the ankle as he somewhat ineffectually smashed his cudgel down on it. Shayla unleashed spell after spell upon the animated creature, finally slashing it into tatters with a final volley of spinning blades.

"I told you," Shayla said with a smile on her face. "I told you there'd be a trap door under there."

"I didn't hear nobody arguing with you, darling," Gorak rumbled as he moved forward into the trophy room. As he strayed too close to one of the walls, a panther's head snapped at him and he stepped back. "Playful. It's safe enough in here, just mind the walls."

As Khalid and Shayla entered the room, Gorak reached down and pulled on the trapdoor. It didn’t budge. "Locked," he growled. "Stand back and gimme some room." He reached down and grasped the iron ring on the trapdoor with both hands. With both feet braced shoulder width apart, he began to slowly stand up. The muscles on his arms and legs bulged under the strain and his breath quickened as he exerted enormous force on the door.

"Ah, Gorak," Khalid said hesitantly, "there's probably a key around here someplace, if we just keep…." With a splintering crack, the frame around the trapdoor shattered. As Gorak jerked upright, the door tore completely from its hinges.

Gorak stood there, grinning, with the shattered remains of the trapdoor in his hands. "I'd say ladies first," he growled, "but it's probably better if I led the way." He began moving cautiously down the stone staircase. "And besides, ain't no ladies around here anyhow," he chuckled.

Shayla dismissed him with a flick of her auburn curls. "Stop trying to be funny and tell me what you see."

"Nothing yet. It goes down pretty deep," Gorak's voice echoed up from below. "Alright. I'm at the bottom. Khalid, you'd better get down here."

Khalid and Shayla hurried down the stairs, bringing a magical light source with them. As Khalid stepped into the room at the bottom of the stairway, he gasped in awe. "This workmanship rivals that of the Hall of Summoning within the White Tower."

The room that so impressed Khalid was obviously a workshop of some type. Long tables lined three of the walls, and tools of every sort hung from pegs above the tables. In each of the corners of the room was a large glass tube, almost eight feet high and five feet across, standing on an ornately carved pedestal. The tubes were filled with a cloudy, greenish liquid. What had caught Khalid's attention however, was not the table, the tools or even the tubes. Carefully inlaid into the floor in the center of the room were arcane glyphs whose meaning was all to clear to any student of magic. Within the outer circle of runes was another set of glyphs, forming a square whose points touched the edges of the circle. Inside the square was a circular depression, filled with a fine white sand. In the very center of the sand were a pair of footprints, which led straight towards the stairway.

Shayla and Gorak fanned out, searching around the room for any clues to the cleric's disappearance. Gorak wandered over and picked up a book that was lying open on one of the tables. He absently flipped through a few pages and grunted, "Looks like the clerics journal."

Khalid knelt down in front of the summoning circle and began to examine the runes meticulously. Each individual glyph had been hand carved from jade and inlaid into what appeared to be a single piece of white marble, carefully shaped and polished into a huge circle. The whole thing had a diameter of almost twenty feet, and Khalid couldn't begin to estimate how much it must have cost.

Shayla, in the meantime, had moved towards one of the glass tubes and was inspecting it with interest. Then suddenly, she uttered a startled shriek and stumbled backwards. Khalid, startled, almost brushed against the rune he was inspecting. "Ah, careful," he admonished, "you almost made me break the summoning circle."

"Sorry," Shayla apologized, "but I think I found our cleric."

Gorak and Khalid both moved over beside Shayla, and examined the glass tube she had been inspecting. The liquid was darker, and much cloudier than in the other tanks. As they watched, a twisted and bloated face emerged and bumped up against the glass. The cleric, identifiable from the markings on his cloak, was in the early stages of decomposition. The flesh on his face had begun to peel away, revealing white bone beneath. His eyes were already gone, Khalid noted, before he glanced away from the grotesque scene. Slowly, the body rolled around in the tube, and vanished from sight again.

"Ah, yes, it would appear as though some one, or ah, some thing has seen fit to ah, well, pickle him," Khalid said, somewhat unnecessarily. "I suspect that he may have summoned something too, ah, powerful to handle, although as of yet I have discovered no irregularities in the protective wards. Yes, quite."

Shayla cast a quick spell and stared hard at the glass tube containing the cleric. "Well, there's magic in there," she said. "Let's see. The staff is giving off the same aura as the one upstairs, so that must be what's causing all the furniture to jump around. His cloak is magical too, as is that backpack he's wearing. Neither is as powerful as that staff though."

"Well, what are we gonna do? Bust him out?" Gorak rumbled.

"Ah, yes, I'm not entirely sure that's wise," Khalid replied. "We may be a bit, yes, a bit beyond our depth here. Yes, quite. Handling unknown magic items is, ah, risky at best. Perhaps, yes, perhaps we should just inform Arbaq, and let him decide."

"I suppose you're right," Shayla said, "although I hate to leave that staff behind."

"Ya." Gorak grunted. "I don't really see any way to get it open without smashing it anyhow, and Arbaq might not like us man handling his buddy like that."

The three turned and began to head towards the stairs when Khalid suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah, you know, on second thought, there's not really any point in leaving without getting him out of there. We'll just have to make another trip back here. Yes, quite." Khalid looked around for something to smash the glass, and realized he was holding his crossbow. He loaded it quickly and raised it to his shoulder, taking aim at the glass tube.

"What?" Gorak growled, surprised.

"Yeah, you're right Khalid," Shayla agreed. "And besides, if you guys think I'm leaving here without that staff, you're crazy."

"Listen I thought we agreed we were gonna...." Gorak began as Khalid fired his crossbow. The bolt notched the glass and ricocheted off, but failed to crack the tube.

"Ah, yes, it's thicker than it looks." Khalid half muttered.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Shayla said with exasperation, "let me show you how it's done." She walked over to one of the walls and pulled a small hammer from its peg.

"Now wait just a minute!" Gorak snarled as he moved towards Shayla. He had just about reached her when she drew back and slammed the hammer into the glass. The glass starred beneath the blow, but did not shatter. Then, a thin spider web of cracks fanned out from the spot Shayla had smashed. Greenish ichor began to leak down the side of the tube and pool on the floor.

Khalid shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, which had suddenly become confused and unsettled. The tube continued to crack and the droplets of ichor flowing down the side of the glass became a stream that sprayed out upon the floor. Khalid blinked as a wave of greenish fluid washed over his feet. Then his eyes widened and he spun around in horror, just in time to see the fluid wash over the runes inscribed on the floor.

Shayla, hammer still in hand, looked at the tube, and then at
Khalid and Gorak with growing fear on her face. "Oh sh*t," she said simply. And then darkness engulfed them.

 

[pogre]

Well done Galeman! I can almost hear your evil menacing laugh on this one!

 

[Galeman]

Thanks Pogre. But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual. You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.

 

[pogre]

Thanks Pogre. But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual. You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.

Of course, but:

It has been said that the essence of story telling is “somebody gets into trouble, and then they get out of it.”

You certainly did your part!

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Hey, this is Gorak here. In my opinion this is where things in the campaign got very....interesting. So, without further ado...

BUMP

 

[woolybearundertaker]

Great Story Hour! I love the way the Middle Eastern culture and setting are focused on!


Now that I ve been all complimentary, can we get another update? ;-)

-WBU

 

[EternalNewbie]

Now that I ve been all complimentary, can we get another update? ;-)

-WBU

Yes. Yes you can.

But if you've noticed a trend you'll see that the group handles this in typical fashion as usual. You'll see what i mean in the next post i'm sure.

Bah. Let's get something straight here. First, there are no clerics in this world. Second, warriors can't wear metal armor without making con checks for heat exhaustion. Third, everything we fight is like 4 levels higher than us. And now you're getting huffy cuz we do a little tactical maneouvering? Heh, no wonder nobody ever gets past 5th level in your campaign.

Alright, enough witty banter and on to the stuff that you came here for. I present, for your reading enjoyment, the final part of Chapter 2: The City of Sin.

* * * * * * * * * *​

Alone. I'm all alone, Khalid thought. His breath was coming in quick, short gasps and his heart hammered in his chest. The darkness surrounding him was absolute and all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. Then, ever so slowly, the darkness began to recede. As the feeble light from Shayla's spell began to strengthen behind the retreating darkness, Khalid saw that he was not alone. Gorak and Shayla were still there, standing exactly where they had been before the darkness engulfed them. Khalid breathed a sigh of relief that caught in his lungs as he turned around.

In the center of the summoning circle, the darkness gathered with increasing speed. Khalid felt as though he was at the center of a hurricane, as the darkness rushed past him and coalesced into the shape of a man. Suddenly, Khalid desperately wished that he was alone, and a thousand miles away from this place.

The man that appeared at the center of the summoning circle was not physically imposing. He was slightly shorter than Khalid's six feet, although somewhat broader in the chest than Khalid and dressed in an immaculate suit of Eastern origin. A jet black waistcoat covered a white silk shirt. Long black breeches were tucked into knee-high riding boots that were polished to a mirror shine. A single ring adorned his right hand, capped with a blood red ruby.

But it was not the expensive clothing that held Khalid breathless; it was the creature's face. His features would have been regular, even handsome, were it not for the inhuman cruelty etched upon them. No trace of human compassion had ever crossed that flawless face; no tenderness or mercy had ever softened the hard angles.

A devil, Khalid thought frantically. It has to be some sort of devil. The thing's eyes were blood red orbs, with no trace of a pupil, but still Khalid could feel its gaze sweep across them. He shuddered under the weight of the devil's withering contempt as it assessed each one of them in turn. Gorak and Shayla, like Khalid, were paralyzed with fear. Gorak's lips had drawn back in a feral snarl and for all his imposing size, he looked nothing more than a cornered animal. Shayla stood stock still, arched backwards slightly as though drawn up by the strings of a giant puppeteer. Her head was turned slightly, as though she was trying to look away, but she could not free her eyes from the terrible sight before her. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides and her jaw was clenched.

Again the creatures gaze swept across them, and Khalid felt his knees go weak as the devil's power flooded the room. Khalid could feel it, a thick and heavy miasma that coated his skin and seared his lungs. Slowly the creature raised an immaculately manicured hand and Khalid clenched his teeth, frantically trying to think of some way to avoid the inevitable. But the creature didn't cast them screaming into the depths of hell; he simply raised his hand and smoothed back a lock of his jet-black hair. With a twisted sneer on his features, the devil gave a mocking little bow, and stepped casually over the shattered boundary of the summoning circle. Without even a backward glance, the creature walked up the stairs.

Khalid breathed an enormous sigh of relief that turned into a choked gasp as the devil casually snapped his fingers on the way out of the room. With a soundless flash, three small creatures appeared in the room beside them. The monstrosities looked like tiny lumps of wax, twisted and misshapen, covered with a thick slime that pooled on the floor around them. Cruel parodies of human faces swam within the blubbery mass of flesh, their features contorted with unspeakable agony. Withered limbs tipped with three sharp claws slashed eagerly at the air around them, as the creatures rushed forward to attack.

Khalid gagged at the charnel smell that washed over him as the pitiful creatures slid towards him. Shayla was the first to shake off the devil's fear and act, hurriedly casting a spell and flinging a handful of glowing discs at one of the little monstrosities. Her eyes widened in horror as the spell slammed into the creature with no effect. Scurrying backwards, she placed more distance between herself and their assailants.

Gorak leapt forward with a roar, and slammed his cudgel into one of the fleshly little creatures, sending it tumbling backwards. It righted itself immediately however, and pressed forward, seemingly unhurt by the terrible blow. "Khalid," Gorak yelled, "what in the nine hells are these things?"

Khalid's mind frantically raced over his lectures at the White Tower, trying to put a name to the creatures, but panic drove all rational thought from his mind.* Deciding he had nothing to lose, he stepped forward and unleashed a torrent of flame and ash upon the little creatures. Like Gorak and Shayla however, his attack had no effect save to draw attention to himself. Khalid hurriedly backed away and heroically placed Gorak between himself and the three tiny devils.

"Ah, yes," Khalid stuttered, "ah, I believe they are the least of the devil-kin. Yes, quite. They, ah, appear to be immune to weapons and, ah, fire."

Shayla screamed as one of the little monstrosities slashed at her with its claws, drawing a line of blood on her leg. Gorak too, bellowed in pain as the other two surrounded him and began to claw at his legs and stomach. Again, Shayla unleashed a spell, this time hurling tiny lancets of glowing force and again there was no effect. Gorak swung his cudgel in a defensive arc as he tried to keep the tiny devils from swarming him.

"Khalid," Gorak growled, "how do we hurt them?"

"Ah, yes," Khalid replied, "I'm not sure we can."

"Well you better think of something fast," Gorak snarled.

Khalid attempted to dodge away from the creatures, to give himself room to cast another spell and was rewarded with a stinging slash on his leg for his efforts. Forcing the pain out of his mind, he dropped a short length of rope on the ground and uttered the words to his newly discovered spell. As the rope rose into the air, Khalid called out, "Ah, perhaps now is a good time to ah, demonstrate the better part of valor, yes, quite."

Without hesitation, Shayla turned and scrambled up the rope, vanishing into the portal. Gorak snarled again, and swatted ineffectually at the creatures surrounding him. "Khalid," Gorak growled, "get outta here."

Khalid, never needing much in the way of encouragement when it came to self-preservation, clambered up the rope into the safety of his spell. Gorak, taking several more wounds in the process, turned and followed him immediately after, drawing up the rope as he entered. Through the transparent portal they could see the three small devils milling about in impotent fury below.

Gorak, breathing heavily, cast a healing spell to staunch the bleeding wounds on his legs. When he finished, he turned on Shayla and Khalid. "What the hell is wrong with you two," he snarled. "We agreed we were gonna leave that thing alone."

Shayla, still shaken from the ordeal, said nothing so Khalid answered. "Ah, it wasn't entirely, yes, entirely our fault Gorak. That thing in there, the first one I mean, yes, the devil, cast some sort of spell upon us. Yes, quite. Surely, you must have felt it?"

Gorak grunted, "Maybe." Then he took a deep breath, and got a hold of his emotions. "Alright, so just what was that thing."

"Ah, I'm not exactly, yes, exactly sure," Khalid replied.** "I cannot put a name to that particular devil, but I am quite sure he is powerful, possibly even one of the dukes of the nine hells. Yes, quite."

"That's great," Gorak grumbled. "So what do we tell Arbaq?"

"Ah, Arbaq?" Khalid looked surprised. "Ah, nothing, nothing at all. We tell him that we found the room as such, yes, with the tube smashed prior to our arrival. Yes, quite."

"You think that's a good idea, lying to him?" Gorak growled.

"Ah, I don't think you fully, yes, fully grasp the enormity of what has happened here," Khalid continued with fear plainly evident in his tone. "That thing is a devil, yes, and a powerful one at that. That summoning circle is as flawless as any I have seen in the White Tower and yet it was able to pierce boundary with its magic. The great sages and high priests are now impotent, yes, impotent. There may be no one left with the skill to confront that thing. It's going to wreak untold chaos and death upon this land before it is finished. Yes, quite. The fewer people that know we are responsible for unleashing that blight, yes, blight upon the land, the better."

Shayla was staring down at her hands in silence. In each of her palms were four bloody crescents, where her fingernails had pierced her skin. Gorak leaned over and took both of her hands in his, and uttered a few divine words. Shayla winced slightly at his touch. When he took his hands away, the marks on her palms were gone, but the fear still remained in her eyes. "So what do we do now?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Ah, we wait, and hope the summoning ends before my spell does." Khalid replied as he squinted out into the darkness.

* * * * * * * * * *​

"Ah, are they gone yet?" Khalid asked.

Gorak, who was peering out into the darkened workshop, growled, "I think so. I'm gonna go check it out. He pushed the rope out and dropped down through the portal. Seconds later his head appeared in the extra-dimensional space again. "It's clear. Let's get outta here."

The trio hastily made their way back up the stairs, and out the same window they had entered. The huge mastiff that Gorak had left in the back yard to guard their exit was curled up beneath some bushes, whimpering softly. It took Gorak several minutes to coax the creature out from it's hiding spot. Once he had, they set off in silence back to their inn.

Even the bright afternoon sun did little to quiet their unrest as they pushed through the crowds of people. Khalid desperately hoped that the devil would quit the city and return to its own plane, but he knew it was unlikely. Unfettered, with no holy men or powerful wizards to banish it, the creature would have free reign. Khalid shuddered as he walked through the press of people, wondering morbidly how many of them would die in the coming days.

Back at the inn, they quickly dispatched a messenger to Arbaq and settled in to wait. After the morning's ordeal, they were edgy and tired, but no one seemed willing to be alone, and so they sat in the terraced garden, absently picking at the delicacies brought by the serving girls. Slowly, the minutes lengthened into hours, and still there was no word from Arbaq.

They stayed up late that evening, still not wishing to be parted from each other's company. Finally however, sleep drove them apart, and Khalid retired to his room to rest. Sleep was a long time coming for him, as he expected it would be. What he wasn't expecting were the dreams that haunted him. Several times during the night, he woke up, drenched with sweat and a scream on his lips.

The morning sun found Khalid at his writing desk, poring over his notes and scrolls, having long since given up the prospect of sleep. As he ventured down stairs to join Shayla and Gorak, it was evident that neither of them had slept particularly well either. Again, they settled in to await Arbaq's summons.

It arrived finally, that evening as the three were half-heartedly picking at their dinner. A man they recognized as one of the guards normally posted at the front gate of Arbaq's estate walked over to them and dropped a small scroll on their table. He waited as Khalid picked it up and read it, then turned and left without a word.

Meet me at the cleric's house after sunset this evening.
- Arbaq

"So?" Gorak grunted.

"Ah, Arbaq wants us to meet him at the clerics house." Khalid replied.

"Well, that's unexpected," Shayla commented.

"Ah, indeed, it is, ah, most out of character, yes?" Khalid said. "Perhaps, we should, ah, be very, yes, very careful this evening."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," Gorak rumbled.

"All I'm saying is that, ah, given the circumstances of the last few days it would be prudent, yes, prudent to take every precaution."***

That decided, the three spent a few restless hours killing time, before leaving once again for the cleric's house. As they approached the dwelling, they saw a guard lounging near the front door, which had been nearly torn from its hinges. The guard waved them inside as they neared the house and said, "Arbaq's waiting for you downstairs."

As they entered the parlor of the house, they were forced to step over a man shaped lump wrapped in a thick rug. Khalid grimaced at the fate of the previous investigator, and idly fingered his spell component pouch as they moved into the trophy room. Taking a deep breath, he walked down the stone steps into the cleric's workshop, followed closely by Gorak and Shayla.

The room was once again the source of a surprise, as for the first time the trio saw Arbaq in the flesh. He was tall, taller than Khalid, although his build was slim. He was wearing a tight black jacket with a high collar and breeches, over a pair of soft black leather boots. His onyx black hair was cut shoulder length and obscured his features as he studied something on one of the long benches lining the walls. At the sound of their footsteps he turned around. His skin, as Shayla had noticed so many weeks ago, was indeed as pure as alabaster, and his eyes, remarkably, were like blue sapphires, cold and piercing. He studied the three of them carefully, before speaking in his cultured voice. "Now, perhaps you would care to tell me what happened here."

"Ah, yes, well, we entered the house through the back window, yes quite. Upon entering, we were beset upon by the ah, well, the furniture. Yes, quite. We covered a few more rooms that day, but the furniture was, ah, quite resilient, yes, quite and destroying it took a fair measure of our power. We ah, left, and returned yesterday morning," Khalid said, realizing as he spoke how silly it sounded.

Arbaq however, saw no humor in it. "Please continue," he said as he walked over to the wall near where Khalid had futilely cast his spell. Running his finger along the wall, it came away, covered in soot.

"Ah, yes, well," Khalid stammered, trying to organize his thoughts. "We ah, searched the trophy room next, and found the passage down here. When we arrived, we found your friend, ah, well, pickled, yes, pickled in that tube over there. The ah, staff was the source of the spell animating the objects in the house."

"And then you decided to attempt to free him?" Arbaq pressed.

"Ah, well, yes, in order to ah, break the enchantment, yes enchantment on the staff. Yes, quite," Khalid replied his mind racing frantically. "Ah, unfortunately, the ah, execution was poor and we inadvertently broke the summoning circle. When that happened, three small devilkin appeared. We ah, felt it wise to withdraw at that point, and inform you of our findings. Yes quite."

"Indeed." Khalid could feel the skepticism in his tone. "Those three small devils are all that you saw?"

"Yes, quite." Khalid replied as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"Did you perchance find a journal down here? Achmed was a particularly methodical man and I am certain he would have kept a fairly detailed log of his experiments somewhere nearby," Arbaq asked pointedly.

Khalid, realizing that there was no chance of further subterfuge under Arbaq's unwavering gaze, produced the slim volume they had taken from the workshop the previous day. Handing it over to Arbaq, Khalid sighed inwardly. He'd had no desire to peruse the contents last night and now it appeared as though he wouldn't get the chance.

"Excellent. You may take whatever other items you wish from here, as per our agreement. You have once again performed…admirably. I shall contact you shortly to discuss your next venture." The hesitation was barely noticeable.

Gorak moved to gather up the cleric's cloak, staff and backpack. The viscous green liquid had dried to a thick crust on the items that flaked off easily when Gorak picked them up. Khalid moved over to the workbench on the far wall, and removed several potion bottles and a scroll case, which he then tucked into his voluminous belt.

As they walked back upstairs, more of Arbaq's men entered the house and moved past them, down into the basement. The trio walked out of the house in silence and had traveled some distance away before Gorak exploded. "Just what in the hell were you doing down there?" he demanded. "I thought we agreed we weren't gonna tell him nothing."****

"Ah, yes, that was before, when I thought he was nothing but a rich merchant," Khalid snapped back. "Did you ah, see the way he was looking around down there? He knew we were lying. Yes, quite. And he knew, ah, damn well what was going on down there. Nothing we said came as any surprise to him. Ah, yes, believe me when I tell you there is, ah, far more to Arbaq than is readily apparent."

They walked in sullen silence back to the inn and went straight upstairs to Khalid's room. There, away from any unwanted attention, they sat down to make plans.

"So what do we do now?" Shayla asked.

"Ah, I'm not certain. Perhaps we should come clean, yes, clean to Arbaq, and tell him everything. Yes, quite." Khalid replied.

"It was your idea to lie to him in the first place," Gorak pointed out.

"Ah, yes, yes, I know," Khalid said wearily. "I'll ah, take the blame. I suggest this only because I believe that Arbaq is a lot more than a mere merchant."

"Well," Gorak grunted, "there's no point in doing anything tonight. We'll send a runner in the morning."

At first light the next day, Gorak found a messenger and sent him off to Arbaq's estate to request an audience. Khalid and Shayla ventured out into the markets to track down spell components that would allow Khalid to decipher the dweomer's surrounding the items they had taken from cleric's house. Despite the events of the last two days, there were no outward signs that anything was wrong in the city. Khalid still felt uneasy however, a feeling which persisted until he was safely locked in his room, the pilfered items arrayed before him.

That night, Khalid emerged from his room to find out that no reply had yet been received from Arbaq. He entreated Gorak and Shayla to join him in his room and locked the door behind them when they entered.

"Ah, yes, I've spent the day identifying the various properties of the items we took from the cleric's house. First, the staff is by far the most potent item, albeit completely useless to us. In the hands of a holy man, it is capable of, as we surmised, animating objects within forty feet of the staff itself, which can then be commanded to attack. Ah, next, the backpack is a particularly useful, yes, useful item. It is magically enhanced to store far more than it appears, and never grows heavy. Additionally, all you have to do is, ah, place your hand within, and think of the item that you want, and it will appear in your grasp. Yes, quite. And lastly," Khalid continued, "the cloak is fortified with magical protections which will add to your innate ability to overcome poisons and disease, as well as baneful, yes, baneful magical effects."

Shayla gave a low whistle. "Not bad, not bad at all. So, who gets what?"

"I want that cloak," Gorak growled, then realizing he wasn't back home in his tribal camp, he continued, "that is, if nobody else minds."

"Ah, hmm, well I don't particularly care," Khalid said. "Why don't you take the ah, cloak, and Shayla can take the backpack. We'll try to find a buyer for the staff, and then you two can ah, compensate me fairly from your share. Yes, quite."

Gorak picked up the olive green cloak, and flung it over his shoulders. It, not suprisingly, fit him perfectly. "Huh," he grunted, "I thought it was gonna be too long. The magic do that?"

"Ah, yes quite," Khalid replied. "As for the potions, it is expensive, yes, quite expensive for me to identify them without a proper laboratory. Perhaps we can find an alchemist who can, ah, do it more cheaply than I." He handed the scrolls to Gorak. "The scroll is of divine origin, which I cannot decipher."

Gorak studied the scroll intently for a few minutes, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Healing spells. Two of 'em, of moderate power. I'll hang on to these, since you two can't use 'em."

That piece of business taken care of, the three settled in to wait for Arbaq's reply. A day passed with no word, and then another. Khalid began to get nervous as the third day passed with no word. Gorak and Shayla too, were restless and edgy, eager to be doing anything but sitting at their inn, watching the hours roll past. Finally, on the fifth day after they had sent their request, a small boy ran up to their table in the common room and said, "Master Arbaq wants to see you all, right away."

Pushing plates of half finished food away, the three stood up and walked out into the early morning sun. They reached Arbaq's demesne in short order, and were admitted without delay. The elderly chamberlain led them through the now familiar halls of Arbaq's mansion to his grand meeting hall.

Khalid was again disappointed, as the room was devoid of women this time as well. Gone too were the silken screens which had hid Arbaq from them. Instead, Arbaq was seated on a high-backed chair at the far end of the room. He was dressed all in black once again, and sat with one leg crossed, leaning forward slightly, his elbow propped up on the armrest of the chair, and his chin cupped in the palm of his hand. He watched them approach wordlessly, their footsteps echoing through the spacious hall.

When they had finally arrived before him, Arbaq spoke. "Well, to what do I owe the honor of this visit."

"Ah, yes," Khalid began nervously, "I'm ah, afraid that we weren't quite honest with you, when we ah, described what transpired in Achmed's house. Yes, quite."

"Indeed." Arbaq replied flatly.

"Ah, yes, it was, ah, my idea, I'm afraid," Khalid continued.

"Well then, it is only you who shall lose his head over it." Arbaq said, no trace of emotion in his cultured voice.

"Ah, well, you see," Khalid stammered, tensing himself up for a hasty retreat.

Arbaq leaned back, "Relax, Khalid. That was a joke."

"Ah, yes, quite amusing," Khalid muttered. "In my, ah, defense, I had thought you nothing more than a common merchant. Yes, quite."

"A reasonable, albeit false assumption. Tell me now, exactly what happened."

Khalid told the story as it had actually occurred, with Shayla and Gorak filling in the details that he missed. As Arbaq listened to the tale, his expression became grim. When they had finished, he spoke quietly. "That certainly explains a few things. Now, before I tell you what I have learned, we must reach another understanding. While you are working for me, I expect you to be completely honest with me."

"And you'll do the same for us?" Gorak rumbled.

"Indeed. Now I will tell you what I know. I have read Achmed's journal. The creature that appeared before you was indeed a devil, named Vestalt, and a quite powerful one at that."

"Yes, quite," Khalid agreed.

Unperturbed by the interruption, Arbaq continued. "Foremost among his portfolio is the sin of greed, which explains why a number of rather prominent merchants in the city have turned up dead in the last few days. Just yesterday one of the merchant princes was beaten to death in broad daylight. The night before that, one unfortunate fellow took a midnight stroll out a third story window, on to a rather pointy sundial."

"Ah, it would appear that he is, ah, working to consolidate his power quite quickly. Yes, quite." Khalid remarked.

"Indeed. The city it would seem, is no longer safe. Pack your belongings, we leave for Gem-Sharad in the morning." Arbaq ordered.

"Ah, Arbaq, there is still that little matter I have to deal with in Gem-Sharad," Khalid said hesitantly.

"I have not forgotten Khalid, but you will be safe enough on my estate there, for a few days at least. The next task I have for you three should take you out of the city anyhow, but we will discuss that when we reach Gem-Sharad."

The trio returned to their rooms and began to pack up their belongings. Khalid took the opportunity to visit the baths one final time after dinner and fell asleep early, in anticipation of the long days ahead.

The next morning, they returned to Arbaq's estate before the break of dawn. The compound was in a flurry of activity as servants made ready for the journey. Khalid eyed the five heavily laden camels that were picketed in the courtyard somewhat suspiciously as a large man came over to greet them.

"I am Jalaal, caravan master for Arbaq ibn Asadel. Blessings upon you, my friends," Jalaal greeted them as he bowed low. He was tall, although not as tall as Khalid, and broad of shoulder although he lacked Gorak's thickness. His bronze skin shone in the first rays of sunlight that broke the eastern horizon. Like Gorak, he was wearing a vest that left his muscled chest bare, and a pair of billowing pantaloons tucked into calf-high riding boots. His black hair was trimmed close, and his moustache was oiled into delicate curls at the tips. A tiny arrowhead goatee graced his chin, and when he smiled, which seemed often, his white teeth gleamed in the sun. Shayla eyed him up and down appreciatively, and Khalid disliked him instantly.

"I'm Gorak, this here's Khalid, and that's Shayla. Good to meet ya." Gorak rumbled.

"Come, come, we are almost ready to leave. You have ridden camels before, yes?" Jalaal asked. Getting no response, he continued, "Ah, well it is very much like riding a horse." He paused. "You have ridden horses before yes?" Seeing nothing but blank stares, Jalaal smiled broadly. "Ah, well then, you put your foot here, and simply hoist yourself up, like so." He practically leapt into the saddle, and the huge beast rose to its feet. "Simple, no?" he grinned down at them.

They had just finished receiving Jalaal's quick lesson on camel riding when Arbaq walked out of the main house. It seemed unusual to see him in anything other than black, but today he wore a sand colored travelling robe. He sported a broad brimmed hat, and his hands were covered, leading Khalid to believe that his aversion to sunlight had not been entirely a ruse. He mounted the camel easily then paused to sign one more document before urging the beast to its feet. Looking back over his shoulder he said, "Let's not waste any more time. I am eager to be away from here."

They traveled without incident through the streets of Shalazar and reached the road to Gem-Sharad before midmorning. As they traveled, Khalid found himself drawn into conversation with Jalaal. Despite his initial reaction, he found it impossible not to like the man, who was always quick to share a laugh. They traveled easily through the fields and vineyards surrounding Shalazar and by the time they stopped for siesta, had left the signs of civilization behind.

That night, they pitched camp shortly before sundown and Jalaal began to cook a savory stew, which improved Khalid's opinion of the man enormously. As they sat around the campfire, enjoying the meal and chatting amiably, Khalid began to relax somewhat, letting the tensions of the last few days flow away. Then suddenly, he leapt to his feet, his stew spilling on the desert sand as a sound reached his ears.

"Ah, is that what I think it is?" Khalid stammered, his eyes wide.

Shayla groaned as she rose to her feet. Gorak too, stood up and stretched his neck from side to side, popping the vertebrae in his back. "This," Gorak growled, "is getting to be a habit."

A long, low howl rent the still night air and was joined by a second, from somewhere behind them, towards Shalazar. Khalid turned and looked at his two companions. "Yes, quite."

* * * * * * * * * *​

*I've yet to make a planar knowledge check, even on simple stuff.

**And failure #2 on Knowledge [Planes]

***Heh, I was really worried that he knew what was going on, and was going to have us killed. You develop that level of paranoia after playing in a few of Galeman's campaigns...

**** Heh, what actually happened here was that I made the plan, and then completely forgot about it 5 minutes later when we actually talked to Arbaq...I covered it well tho

 

[pogre]

Things with decent SRs are going to be pretty tough on this party eh?

Great update as usual!