Aphonion Tales (New posts 6/13, 6/15, 6/19)

[Cerebral Paladin]

Stithis easily found Alistair a long days' ride south of the City of Enclaves. After riding as fast and as far as he could in one day on a fine horse, Alistair had found a pleasant place to stay by seducing a comely woman who owned one of the local farms that help supply the City's tremendous demand for food. His stories of danger, intrigue, and a secret identity that he dared not reveal lest his enemies threaten them both had precisely the desired effect of earning her admiration, while preparing her for his inevitable sudden departure. The stories even had the side benefit of being mostly true.

Stithis appeared to Alistair while his friend was attending to the duties of running her farm. "Alistair... you need to be careful. There are assassins looking for you."

"Stithis? What are you doing here? And how do you know that there are assassins?"

"Mahler sent me after the assassins attacked us. They thought Mahler was you because of what you told Dame Brionna."

"Is everyone all right? I never wanted to put Mahler or the rest of you in any danger. I just didn't want that Glordiadelian knight to focus on dragging me back to Canberry."

"We're all fine. The others will be joining us soon. I just came ahead because I could reach you quickly and can stay up all night on guard since I don't need to sleep."

Alistair relaxed on hearing that the assassins failed. "Thank you. I'm really grateful that you've all been so willing to help me, especially since this isn't your problem."

Stithis paused. "I was wondering if you could help me. I've thought about what the Bishop said, and I think I'd like you to perform the binding ritual on me."

"Are you sure? I can't say I'm too fond of the idea of being able to control someone, and I know I wouldn't want anyone to have that kind of power over me."

"I'm sure. It's safer for me, and it's far better to be voluntarily bound to someone that I know won't abuse that than to risk some evil person binding me. And I'd also be better able to prevent future assassins from getting you. Besides, it's not all that different from the oaths of fealty that humans take to their nobles all the time."

"I think that's what worries me... I've never really wanted people swearing fealty to me. But if you're sure that it's what you want..."

Alistair carefully went through the steps of the ritual with Stithis to forge a mystic bond between them.

* * *

The group in Enclaves spent the following day healing and preparing for the long trip south. They carefully posted watches and departed shortly before dawn the next day, with Mahler, Kit, and Dame Brionna on horses, Glibrod insisting that he could be Dame Brionna's squire, and Delbon on a huge bee, taking advantage of the unusual mounts available to the wealthy in Glittertowers. The first day of travel south passed uneventfully.

During the second day, a small caravan approached the group from further south. With farmland on either side, the group had no choice but to meet the caravan openly and hope for the best. As the wagons approached, the riders gathered at the side of the road to allow them passed.

A large floating sphere, with a giant central eye and many small eye-stalks rising up from its body, floated out from among the wagons. "Hello there, travellers! I don't think I've met any of you!"

Everyone who recognized the strange creature as a beholder tensed, but if it wanted to kill them, there would be little they could do to stop it. Mahler nudged his horse forward. "Good day to you. Bringing a load of trade goods to Enclaves?"

"Yes indeed. Most of my kind devote themselves to conquest and pillaging, but with my superior intellect, I have realized the inefficiencies of such tasks. True strength lies in the knowledge of people-- all people, not just other beholders that are close to the true breed. Trade provides a convenient and profitable means to meet new people. I have made it my life's work to meet and introduce myself to every intelligent being on the world." The beholder swung one eye-stalk back towards a wagon. A stack of shiny copper plates, bound together with a sturdy ring, floated towards it. "I am Glixilplort, a true breed beholder. If you would each be so kind as to introduce yourselves, I would be most appreciative."

The riders introduced themselves in turn, and the beholder carefully etched their names and homelands onto the copper plates with a green ray from one of its eye-stalks.

"Thank you. I did not expect an additional five introductions today before reaching Enclaves. If I can keep meeting people at the rate I've maintained thus far, I will have met every sentient, living creature-- meeting undead is unproductive, even if they have minds-- within the next 489 years, 10 months, and 14 days. As long as none of them die. Or reproduce." The beholders gaping maw contorted as it chewed its rocky lips with razor-sharp teeth. "If they do... then... No matter. Death and reproduction do not fit the model I have propounded to structure my life plan around. They are therefore irrelevant and will be disregarded." The creatures face took on its regular, strangely jovial look. "Thank you for your assistance. I hope your travels are smooth, and that you meet many fellow travellers on the rest of your journey."

With that, the beholder signaled its teamsters to resume their journey.

Delbon stared after the beholder in befuddlement. "That was the least terrifying, but strangest beholder I've ever even heard of."

"With luck, it will be the only beholder we ever meet," replied Mahler.

Dame Brionna smiled and put her hand on her sword's hilt. "I think I may wish to meet a more tradition-minded beholder someday, when I am ready and my duties allow it."

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Alistair and Stithis soon rejoined their companions. Dame Brionna reassured Alistair that she would simply guard him on his travels, rather than trying to force him back to Canberry faster than he wanted. Alistair, for his part, convinced Kit that she didn't need to call him "your lordliness" and that he had no desire to be treated as a lord, and the group settled into an amiable comradery as it continued on the road towards the Archbarony of Ecsilias. As they rode, Alistair sidled his horse up to Mahler's.

"I feel terrible about the assassins trying to kill you, thinking that you were me. I just wanted to make sure Dame Brionna wouldn't do anything unpleasant. It didn't occur to me that it would lead you into danger."

"Don't worry about it. I can't say that I enjoy being the target of assassins, but none of us were killed. And it was far better that they attacked the whole group of us than if they had attacked you alone."

"Even so... Thank you, and I'm sorry." Alistair thought for a moment. "If there's anything I can do for you... do you want a knighthood or something?"

Mahler smiled. "Let's not worry about those sorts of things while we're still on the road. There will be time to figure those things out when our journey is over."

The group rode on for several more days. At night, they carefully withdrew off the road, trying to avoid any dangers. The road between Ecsilias and Enclaves is usually safe, but the same could be said for the houses of Glittertowers. They carefully posted watches, and Dame Brionna, Mahler, and Stithis were consciencious about their watches. Alistair had carefully arranged to share his watch with Kit, and they spent more of their watches paying attention to each other and becoming progressively closer than actually guarding against threats.

* * *

The City of Ecsilias is the first major settlement on the traderoute to the south of Enclaves. The Archbaron has a reputation as a fair, just lord, despite the adherence of his family and most of his subjects to the Church of Paranswarm. After more than a week of travel, the entire group looked forward to the opportunity to sleep on beds in an inn instead of on bedrolls in a rough camp. The City also allowed them the opportunity to hear the news of the day, and so Alistair and Kit set out to see what they could hear.

Alistair went to a fashionable tavern, where he succeeded admirably in his primary goal of finding an attractive lady interested in having a few drinks with him, but learned nothing significant of the world. Kit visited the poorer districts of the city. The rest of the group decided that they would draw unnecessary attention and laid low to wait for the scouts to report.

Kit hurried into the tavern where Alistair should have been hearing the news of the day. She spotted him at the bar, with his new-found friend leaning up against him and rubbing her hand lightly on his neck. Kit scowled and rushed across the room. She elbowed the woman aside roughly. "Sorry, sister, but he needs to leave. Right now."

Alistair quickly stood. "I'd best do as she wishes. Fair well."

As they hustled towards the door, Kit whispered angrily, "While you were busy with her, I found out that we can't stay here at all. There's a bounty out on all of us."

"It's not what you think. I was simply trying to make her friendly so that she would be willing to share gossip that might include important news." Alistair lied with a remarkably sincere tone of voice.

Kit softened. "Well... I misunderstood. But the important thing is, we need to get out of here as fast as we can."

When they reached the rest of the group, Kit shared the rest of the news: she had found posters offering the staggering bounty of 5000 gold for their capture. The posters had sketches of all of them except for Alistair and Stithis, with Kit, Delbon, and Dame Brionna's names written next to their sketches. Mahler was helpfully labeled as "Lord Alistair" and the posters made it clear that his capture was the most important.

Dame Brionna scowled. "5000 gold is enough to have every ruffian in Ecsilias keeping their eyes out and looking for an opportunity to collect."

Kit shook her head. "I don't think you understand how real people view money. Fifty gold would have been enough to hire half the thugs in a city like this. A hundred would get you the other half. For 5000, they'll attack anyone who looks vaguely like any of those pictures, and they'll chase any rumors of us whereever they think we've gone."

"Still, the point remains that we need to get out of here," Mahler said. "I'll put some quick disguises on us, and then we'll ride through the night."

Alistair nodded. "Let's leave through the North Gate, back towards Enclaves. We should be able to take the side roads to loop around the city, and that way if anyone hears about our suddenly leaving in the evening, they'll assume we've fled back instead of pressing on."

They left the city without any indications that they had been spotted. And instead of sleeping in pleasant beds and actually relaxing, they spent a sleepless night riding as hard as they dared by the light of the moons.

 

[Orichalcum]

Brief note

I play Dame Brionna in the SH, and just wanted to add that it's impossible to capture how hilarious Glibrod (who was played by Piratecat) was during this whole session. I always have a wonderful gestalt with PC and playing righteous, confused knight to his fawning servitor was six hours of immense fun and giggles.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

From Ecsilias, the road runs south about 20 days' ride to Forktown, where it splits in three, with each road leading to a different pass through the great mountain range that divides the North of the continent of Drucien from the South. Each pass has different advantages and disadvantages. One pass is overrun with monsters and would pose no risk of discovery but a high risk of becoming wyvern food or the like. A second pass is heavily haunted. While many of the undead in that pass have relatively positive reputations, only fools are overly eager to deal with the undead. The last pass runs directly through the City of the Pass-- a substantial city and the standard route of trade caravans, but a city mostly known for its corruption and crime lords. If Ecsilias's poor quarters were any indications, the city ahead would be crawling with would-be bounty hunters and assassins. Still, it seemed the best of a bad mix, so the travellers planned on making for that road.

They rode hard to get safely into the countryside south of Ecsilias. During the third night after they left the Archbarony, a terrified wild boar burst into their campsite, scampered away from the light of the fire and charged further off into the woods. Kit and Alistair were on watch but ended their quiet conversation and cuddling to warn the rest of their companions. They couldn't be sure why the boar was panicking, but it was certainly troubling. Dame Brionna and Mahler each grabbed their sword in one hand and a flaming brand in the other to deter any more animals. Less than a minute later, the reason for the boar's flight became clear: a large wolfpack followed its trail straight into the camp. All of the wolves but one veered away from the fire and the guards. The lead wolf, however, stared directly at each of them and shifted shape into a partially humanoid form. The werewolf glared at the group, and then shifted back to wolf-form and charged after its pack, howling at the moon as it ran. The travellers spent the rest of the night fearfully watching for any signs that the werewolf and its pack were returning, but morning came safely, and they were all glad to be back on the road on horseback.

The next 10 days passed without further problems. There were several additional instances of odd animal behavior, as a family of bears searched for food and seemed to view the presence of humans as a sign of safety, rather than danger. But none of the travellers were experienced outdoorsfolk, and they assumed that it was normal for bears.

On the 15th day of travel, an enormous caravan from the Empire of Mask passed by. The travellers simply yielded the entire road and allowed it to pass, as the nobles leading the caravan casually assumed was their right. Once they were clear that the riders were not bandits and did not presume that they were the equals of the lords in the caravan, the traders ignored them completely. The travellers paid rather more attention and noticed a pattern that might explain why all of the free-born people in the caravan carefully wore full masks that entirely covered their faces: many, perhaps half, of the slaves and porters working in the caravan had horribly disfigured faces. When the caravan had passed, the riders resumed their travels south.

Several days later, a mere day or so north of Forktown, the group left the road to make camp again. As they prepared to make camp, a boar piglet, about a foot long, dashed into the middle of their camp and began pressing up against Delbon, as he sat by the fire, for comfort. The piglet appeared to be healthy but utterly terrified. Dame Brionna confirmed that it was not evil, and they all noticed that it's behavior seemed oddly intelligent. Once they reassured the piglet and gave it a little of their food, it looked off into the woods, walked forward a bit, and then looked back at the group. The piglet clearly wanted to go somewhere but was afraid on its own. Delbon shrugged. "I guess we should see what it wants..."

The group followed the young boar into the woods. It clearly mostly knew the way but not entirely. It stopped several times to look and sniff around before resuming its trail, and even looped once or twice, but finally entered a clearing in the woods and rushed forward. The piglet rushed across the clearing towards a small house, oinking happily. An elderly woman rushed out of the house and scooped up the piglet in her arms. "Oh my dear. I was so worried... you know you shouldn't run off like that."

While the travellers watched in confusion, the piglet shifted form and became a small human toddler, cooing happily in her grandmother's arms.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

We had the third session of the game a few weeks ago. A few of the other players pointed out a few errors I made in the Storyhour; Stithis's player assures me that the binding took place in Enclaves and that both Stithis and Alistair left when the party split up. Also, Mahler's player noted that the only reason that he was in danger during the battle with the Knockers was because Glibrod whacked him multiple times with crit fumbles. Still, I don't think I'm going to bother to correct the Storyhour-- it's close enough, and I don't really remember the details well enough.

The new session was great fun and I'll start writing it up soon. I'm almost done with the 2nd session; within the next two weeks or so I should post the end of the 2nd session, and then I'll start on the third.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

"Thank you so much for helping my granddaughter find her way home. I need to look after all of my grandchildren while my daughters work, and it can be a little hard to keep track of them all," Goodwife Amelie explained. "Usually, when children wander off, other wearboars, humans, or the werebears eventually help them find their way home. But recently, the werewolves have risen in number. Even adult wereboars and werebears are not safe against a group of the werewolves, and the children are simply prey to them."

"What of your lord?" Alistair asked. "Are there no knights to meet the werewolf threat?" Kit rolled her eyes at Alistair's assumptions.

"The Count used to help us, but he has grown distant and uncaring as the wolves destroy his people. He is almost never seen outside the castle anymore-- after his son died."

"Do you think he knows about the werewolves?" Kit asked.

"How could he not? Some of his servants told him how his people suffer. And his son was always ready to hunt the werewolves. He single-handedly kept their rising numbers in check. But since his death... no one can bend the Count's ear. Except perhaps his dark chaplain." Goodwife Amelie looked around carefully, as if the walls might have ears. "And I've heard some say that since the heir-apparent's death, they have seen the wolves prowling at the very gates of the castle, as if they were guards or friends of the Count."

Delbon said, "What of his other children, or his wife? Could they help?"

Goodwife Amelie shook her head. "He only had the one, and his wife died years ago. He has withdrawn since his son fell from the cliff while hunting."

Alistair looked around at his friends. "Killed in an accident while hunting the werewolves? How convenient... What of the Count's liege-lord? If he will not act, perhaps his liege should remind him that a noble owes duties to his people as well."

"He has no liege. We are a poor land; when the Count, a warrior with great accomplishments of his own, built a castle and declared himself a lord, we did not disagree. But no king or emperor rules over him."

"Well. If the Count will not behave as he should, and there is no higher authority to turn to, I think it falls to us to aid the good people of this land. Do you think we could get into the castle to see the Count?"

Kit started and looked at Alistair in confusion. "What could we do? He's the noble, and, while it sounds like these people need help with the werewolves, what would we do with him?"

Dame Brionna smiled grimly at Kit. "It is royalty's place to watch over the nobles as the nobles watch over the people. If there were local royalty, Glordiadel would wish us to bring the problem of this Count's failure to their attention. As there are not, it falls to any royalty present."

Alistair paused and looked uncomfortably at Dame Brionna's smile. "Let's not worry too much about why we should do this. Let's just see if we can help things out."

"I thank you, good travellers," Goodwife Amelie responded. "You have brought my granddaughter home and would now take on even more risks to help the rest of my family and neighbors. If you will come with me, I can lead you to the castle, where we can get you in through the scullery entrance."

 

[Baron Opal]

Wow, that's something I haven't thought about in some time. How is ol' Ren doing these days?

Hmm... Does the Helltide still wash over the land? Do the Courts of Chaos still stand? Did Asterlin ever control that color pool? Ask him the next time you see him, and I'll watch here.



Baron Opal
a.k.a. Asterlin, former minon of Sabrae

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Reyn's pretty well. He went through some rough stuff last fall relating to a close friend, and it has taken him a while to recover, but he's mostly doing okay now.

I'll have to ask Reyn about your questions about the game the next time I see him, Baron-- those aren't parts of the gameworld that I've dealt with.

And on to the next post:
The small group carefully and quietly made their way from the wereboar's house to the castle. The Count's castle perched atop a large cliff overlooking the road. The fortress was impressive in its gothic grandeur but also had a somewhat comic aspect. While the castle was little more than a small keep with a curtain wall, the buttresses and supports arrayed around it were heavy enough for a much larger fortress. To peasants and simple merchants, the flying buttresses may have made the castle more impressive. But to the members of the group who had seen truly great castles, they simply served to emphasize the minuscule size of this one. The Count's banner flew from the keep, indicating that he was within, and a separate banner with the downward black arrow of Paranswarm proclaimed his faith.

Goodwife Amelie rapped quietly on the scullery door. A comely young woman, dressed in the simple clothes of a cook, opened the door and smiled to greet her. "Mother! I'm surprised to see you here."

"Please, we should come in. These strangers may be able to help us."

The group hurried into the kitchen area. Delbon quickly set about befriending the cook, while the rest of the group quickly quizzed her on the state of the household. She informed them that the Count was, as always, in his library, while the chaplain was out hunting with the dogs. The Count had never had any real knights in his service, and of late had stopped even bothering to make sure that the walls were guarded by villagers.
While Delbon and the cook slipped off to sample the wine cellar and talk more privately, the rest of the group planned.

"This is the perfect time to handle the Count, while his chaplain is still out," Alistair said.

Kit opened a small door in the kitchen. "Does this dumbwaiter go up to the library? I bet I could fit inside, and pull myself up with the rope to see what the Count is doing. Maybe we can catch him asleep."

Stithis nodded enthusiastically. "And I can go with her. I don't weigh anything, so it won't make her work harder, and I can scout the room invisibly."

"Be careful, both of you. We'll tug on the rope from below if the chaplain comes back while you're up there."

Kit climbed onto the tray in the dumbwaiter and carefully pulled on the rope that lifted the tray up two stories to the library. Stithis floated upwards with her, turning invisible as they reached the library. Kit carefully pushed the ornate double door to the dumbwaiter open a crack and looked around the room.

The library was a good sized room, with furnishings to fit a nobleman's home. Several tall bookshelves contained the Count's large library of dozens of books. A heavy wooden desk dominated the center of the room. Kit and Stithis could see the back of the Count's head over the back of a large, ornate chair. He appeared to be reading a heavy book open on the desk in front of him. As they quietly watched, however, he did not move at all, not even to turn a page.

"Do you think he's asleep?" Kit whispered to Stithis.

"I don't know. I'll find out," he whispered back. The doors to the dumbwaiter fluttered a fraction of an inch further open as Stithis squeezed out into the room. Kit bit her lip nervously, knowing that the djinni was gliding across the room but unable to see him. After a few moments, Stithis appeared directly in front of the Count, who still did not react or move. The djinni waved for Kit to come forward, and she slid out of the dumbwaiter.

A thin layer of dust lay on the book, clearly undisturbed for days or weeks. Kit could see that the Count was breathing, but only barely. His jaw hung slack as he quietly drooled on the desk, eyes staring blankly forward. Kit reached out and gently tugged on his shoulder. The Count still showed no response to their presence.

Kit and Stithis gracefully stepped out of the dumbwaiter and back into the kitchen. "I don't think the problem here is the Count. He's under some sort of spell."

Dame Brionna turned to Goodwife Amelie. "Did the priest arrive shortly before the troubles with the werewolves began?"

"Aye, perhaps six months ago. There had been occasional werewolves before, but they grew worse starting perhaps a month after he arrived."

Alistair shook his head. "We should've known to suspect the priest as soon as we heard he was Paranswarmian. Stithis, you'd better fly up and search around the chapel to make sure the priest doesn't have any surprises prepared. We'll let you know through your telepathic link if the priest makes it back before you do."

Stithis flew up the stairs in the tower that rose above one corner of the keep. The chapel itself seemed to have nothing amiss. Across from the door to the priest's chambers, however, a strange cabinet had been built into the wall. Stithis opened the door and saw a red crystal that throbbed with an inner light set behind several protective bars of metal. As Stithis reported this through his mental link, a loud knocking resounded from the scullery door.

Dame Brionna quickly roused the cook from her bed and, spotting the halfling sleeping beside the cook, urged Delbon to get ready as well. The rest of the group hastily hid in the wine cellar.

The cook opened the door to the Count's chaplain, curtsying deeply as a blood-stained figure in black leather vestments strode in imperiously. The priest was a tall, dark haired man, with a somewhat wild look in his eye and some blood drying around his mouth. He leaned a bloody boar-spear against a wall and flung two fresh bear skins onto the floor. "Have those furs cleaned and treated. I'll want them as additional rugs." The chaplain stared curiously at the cook, while the two great mastiffs that he had been hunting with ran up the stairs. After a moment, he sniffed at the air with a strangely animalian attitude. "Has your mother been here? I thought I made it clear that she wasn't welcome here."

"No, your reverence. I went and visited her while you were out-- to see my daughter, you know. That must be what you're noticing."

The priest nodded. "Very well. You should make sure she doesn't travel here. It would be a pity if the wolves got her... Do not disturb me until the morning." He stalked up the stairs towards his chambers. From her hiding place, Dame Brionna called on Glordiadel to sense evil and found that the priest radiated strong evil, but not as strong as the evil from a large gold amulet that he wore around his neck.

The group emerged from their hiding places. "This is as good an opportunity as we'll get." Alistair looked around the kitchen. "He may be weakened from hunting, especially if those were werebears. We need to quickly lay an ambush."

The group quickly found hiding places around the kitchen. Alistair applied some silversheen that Mahler had loaned him to his spiked chain, while Delbon enlarged him and created a large grease patch just waiting for when the priest returned to the room. Alistair handed his silver dagger-- the only other silver weapon they had-- to Kit, so that even if the priest was a werewolf they would have some hope of hurting it. Stithis decided to remain where he was, hoping that destroying the psicrystal would distract the priest. When all was ready, Alistair cast an illusion and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I've come for you. How dare you betray Paranswarm by attacking your own lord?"

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

The priest hurried down and flung open the door to the kitchen. The two dogs charged into the room, sprawling on the grease and sliding to the opposite wall. One actually passed through the illusion: a towering figure, dressed entirely in black including a black cowl covering his face. The only bits of color in the image were red gloves, the silvery glint of torture instruments, and a giant red blood-drop at the tip of the large downward arrow on the surplice that covered his heavy spiked plate armor. As the priest entered, the faux Inquisitor raised his vicious black flail that seemed to radiate darkness.

"I thought it was only a matter of time before that wereboar moved against me. But I expected her to come with a druid, a Gunnoran, or perhaps even one of those Glordiadelian knights in their shiny armor. I never thought she'd have the guts to bring the Inquisition. No matter-- we'll eat plenty of pork to commemorate your death anyway." The priest raised his hand and gestured towards the illusion. A massive wave of concussive force roared across the kitchen. One of the dogs, still reeling from having slid on the grease into the wall, was flung into the wall again and crushed to a pulp. But the illusion just stepped forward while the real warriors leapt out of their hiding places to attack. Alistair lashed at the priest with his spiked chain, taking advantage of his magically enhanced size to strike from a full fifteen feet away. Dame Brionna charged the priest, proving that the priest was right to expect a Glordiadelian knight, while Delbon and Kit remained hiding, waiting for an opportunity to effectively strike at the priest.

Stithis, meanwhile, hacked at the metal bars protecting the psicrystal. His first few blows did not break the bars, but the mortar holding them into the wall began to crack.

The next half-minute brought chaos and carnage to the kitchen. The priest surprised everyone by flinging groups of magic missiles at Alistair and Brionna. The mastiff savaged Alistair despite his best efforts to keep it at bay with his spiked chain. Kit jumped into the fight to aid Alistair by flanking the dog and inflicting brutal wounds with her dagger. Just as the dog finally collapsed, Alistair, barely standing despite his wounds, lashed out at the priest. In his weakened state, however, he could not handle his weapon effectively, and one of the barbs on the chain caught on his belt buckle, causing his pants to fall about his feet and toppling him to the ground, barely conscious.

Stithis finally broke through the bars. Seizing the pulsating psicrystal, he flew at top speed through a narrow window. The psicrystal might break if dropped to the ground within the castle, but a few seconds of flight would take him beyond the cliff. The extra sixty feet to the rocks below would surely doom the crystal, just as it had the Count's son.

The priest cocked his head, sensing his psicrystal's movement. "Clever, trying to distract me that way. No matter; after I've finished you off, I'll have my revenge on your little airy friend." He gestured again, striking Dame Brionna with another barrage of magic missiles. Another such attack would surely finish her.

Kit looked around in desperation. They were moments from disaster-- if the priest had more spells he could cast, it would not take him long to kill or defeat the rest of them. Still, she couldn't abandon her friends... Kit leapt onto the countertop, rolling beneath the hanging pots and pans before launching herself through the air from the edge of the counter past the priest. She landed nimbly behind him and then lunged up towards his throat. With a savage hack of her silver dagger, she slashed most of the way through the priests neck, nearly decapitating him and saving her friends. At the same moment, Stithis finally cleared the cliff and flung the psicrystal down to the rocks below, where it shattered and its inner light faded away.

Dame Brionna staggered across the room to Alistair and, after laying on hands to close his wounds, flung her cloak over the lower parts of his body to preserve his modesty from Kit's curious view. As Stithis returned, the group carefully healed their wounds and finished hacking off the priest's head, just to be sure.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

With the priest dead, the group rushed to see if the count could be restored to health. Far from freeing him from the enchantment, however, the priest's death had severed the last force preserving the count's life. No more than a few minutes passed between the priest's death and the group's entry into the count's study, but his breathing had already taken on a ragged, tortured sound as he slumped even further onto the desk. Alistair and Dame Brionna quickly laid him out on a bed, but were unable to do anything to heal him and had to satisfy themselves by making the count comfortable in his passing. By the time the hour was out, the count stopped breathing altogether. Dame Brionna quietly said a prayer for the dead. After she finished, Alistair drew her attention. "You should witness this." Alistair struck a pose. "All other legitimate claimants having perished and my being seized of the territory, I hereby claim this county in the name of the royal family of Canberry by virtue of the victory of forces in our service over the usurper." He thought for a second. "I don't really think it's large enough to be a proper county, though. To avoid offending the nobles back in Canberry, I should probably reconstitute it as a barony. Now I just need to find a baron..."

As Alistair began to walk out of the room, Dame Brionna cleared her throat. "It is traditional to reward warriors who have saved the life of royalty in battle, and Kit did save your life..."

"I was already thinking that," he said as he exited.

"Good. Besides, it would make her much more suitable..." Dame Brionna quietly observed as Alistair walked back to Kit.

"Kit... could I talk with you for a moment in private?" Once Alistair had Kit away from their other companions, he faced her. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life, or really all of our lives, back there. And I want to ask you whether, as a reward, you would like to have this barony."

Alistair stood ready for many reactions. Stunned silence, overjoyed exulting, even amorous gratitude would not have surprised him. Kit's laughter, however, did. "What," she cried out gasping for breath amidst peels of laughter, "would I possibly do with a barony?"

"You wouldn't do anything with it. You would appoint a steward-- I'm sure I could arrange for Earl Richard to supply a good candidate-- who would administer it for you. And then you could live as a baroness off of its revenues, staying in a townhouse in whatever civilized city you chose to."

Kit's continued laughter showed what she thought of that idea. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I really want to have a barony, your lordliness."

As they returned to the rest of the group, Delbon looked up at Alistair. "What about the rest of us?" he asked, apparently having overheard Alistair's offer. "Can't we get any awards?"

Alistair smiled. "Of course. How does a knighthood sound? Sir Delbon... I'll make you a knight bachelor. It seems appropriate."

Dame Brionna raised an eyebrow. "Were you knighted yourself, m'lord? If you weren't, I can take care of arranging the details for the ceremony."

"Of course I was knighted. At least, I think I was knighted. You have to understand, I was pretty drunk at the time. I don't really remember much of the ceremony, but I'm almost sure that I got dubbed at some point."

Dame Brionna nodded. "I think I should definitely take charge of the details of the ceremony then."

Before dealing with such details, however, the group finished exploring the castle. In the priest's chambers, a diary revealed his gradual descent from the priesthood of Paranswarm to even greater depravity. The problems all seemed to begin when he acquired the fancy gold amulet that he wore around his neck and that fully awakened his mind. His journal declared in careful detail how he had infiltrated himself into the count's household, claiming he had been assigned as a chaplain. He then set about spreading his lycanthropic curse to build up more followers, bound to his will through leather collars that allowed him mental control. When the count's son sought to stop the werewolves, he arranged for a hunting accident, stunning the young lord psionically and then flinging him off the cliff. And now, with the count fading quickly and the werebears and wereboars overmatched by the coordinated efforts of the fallen priest's minions, he merely waited for the opportunity to claim the entire county. Over the course of the journal, the priest's writing grew progressively more crazed, so that the end of the volume appeared to be written by a completely different author from the meticulous scribe who began. Having confirmed their suspicions and positively identified the amulet and leather collars of control as the remaining threats, the group carefully slid the amulet, without ever touching it, into a small lead coffer. They threw in the leather control bands, and then carefully closed the coffer and tied it shut, hoping that would contain the threat until they could give it to the temple of Glordiadel to destroy it.