Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

To Reap the Whirlwind - Part 7: A Council Convened

Cool air rushed out to greet them as soon as the large stone double doors were opened.

As they entered, footsteps echoed on the floor. The entire room, floors, walls and ceiling were made from a material resembling quartz.

Yvigne’ and the female Elorii went to one end of the chamber where a small stage with a simple podium had been erected. Theron and Menet stood on small blue circles upon the floor. Senator Tensen-Balin held Cassicus, who had regained enough of his strength to be at the proceedings. Following their lead, Kham, Quintus, and Vlad stepped onto blue circles.

Clearing her throat, Yvigne’ spoke to the assembly.

“Assembled members. I have convened this hearing because our newly found ally has told me some news that may prove disastrous to our people and way of life.”

“Sounds like she’s right next to me,” said Vlad.

“And in our native tongue,” said Kham. “Haven’t heard Altherin in awhile.”

“As you may have noticed,” said Yvigne, “these blue circles have the ability to allow all to speak and be understood. Please remain within them. Now please, Sevestia. Tell them what you told me.”

Holding her head high in the same haughty way that Ilmarė held hers, she began. “Honored allies, I come here under the most dire of circumstances to ask for your help—not just for my sake, but for the sake of all inhabitants on Onara.”

“Here we go,” said Kham, crossing his arms. “I told you,” he said to Vlad, “end of the world.”

“I was born in captivity on Ymandragore some three hundred years ago and have never left that world until now. My father was captured by the Sorcerer-King millennia ago at this very site, because he was curious about the immortality that is birthright of all Elorii. As the years dragged on, he grew weary of father and decided that there was nothing more to be learned from him. After I was born, we were given over to the various Fingers, the organizations that run the Magocracy at the Sorcerer-King’s behest. Of late, we were given over the Finger called the Society of Ordained Seekers.”

Kham stopped shifting his feet and leaned forward, intrigued.

“While there, my father gained the confidence of the leader of the Ordainers and eventually uncovered the plans of this madman. He saw that there was no choice but to oppose the Sorcerer-King. He was able to secure the means to teleport me off the Ordainer’s island and to the mainland. But just as the spell was cast, the Ordainers broke in and captured my father.”

Theron interrupted. “We have plans of our own,” he said. “We need only deliver the boy to Ymandragore and let Master Orata’s work be done.”

“You, human, are a fool,” said Sevestia. “The name of the man who heads the Society of Ordained Seekers is none other than your former master, Lucius Orata. He spoke at length at the irony of having his very enemies sow the seeds of chaos on the main island of Ymandragore, setting the stage for a coup to topple the Sorcerer-King himself.”

Theron was taken aback, but recovered quickly. “What do I care who concocted the method? The end is the same: the destruction of the Sorcerer-King.”

“Do you think it ends there?” said Sevestia. “He has a plan that, if successful, will make the reign of the Dread Lord seem as nothing. I will tell you what you need to know to stop him, but first I need something from you. You must infiltrate the island of Ymandragore and free my father. That is my price for my information.”

The room was stunned into a silence that lasted for some time.

“Oh great,” said Kham. “I know where this is going.”

A small, weak voice asked, “but what of me?”

All eyes turned to look at Cassicus. He pushed weakly away from his father and stood defiantly on his own.

“Yes,” Theron said slowly. “Time is running out for the boy. Plans must be made.”

Cassicus straightened up. “If I am to die regardless, then let my death have meaning.” He turned to face Augustus. “Please, father. Let me die as a true son of Coryan, taking our enemies with us into Beltine’s embrace.”

The senator wrung his hands. “Faithful legionnaire,” said Augustus to Quintus, “what is your counsel?”

“Today, Cassicus is a boy,” said Quintus, tears in his eyes. He turned to Augustus. “But he will die a man. We will see this to the end.” He put one arm across his chest and bowed towards the senator. “I swear upon it.”

“It is done then,” said Cassicus. “I will meet my final days with my hands around our enemy’s throat. I will make our ancestors proud, father.”

Kham coughed into one fist.

“I know a way to accomplish both ends,” said Sevestia. “During my time with the Dread Lord, I learned of a number of bases used by the Harvesters to secure their ill-gotten goods. They are hidden by powerful sorcery and are undetectable by ordinary means. I will direct you to one of those bases, where you will strike a blow against your enemy and have the opportunity to commandeer one of the Black Ships of Ymandragore.”

The meeting over, the Elorii stepped from the podium and the other mages did likewise.

“I will not ask you to do this with me,” said Quintus to Vlad and Kham. “It is not your burden to bear. I completely understand if—“

Vlad held one hand up. “I’m in,” he said.

They both turned to Kham, who was busy smoothing his overcoat. He looked up at them.

“I don’t suppose either of you actually know how to sail a ship?”

Vlad and Quintus shook their heads.

“Of course not. So if there’s any way this mission’s going to be successful, I guess I’d better come along.”

“Glad to have you,” said Vlad with a smile. He patted Kham on the back.

The Val shrugged him off. “Please,” he said, walking away. “It’s not that hard a choice. Besides, Onara’s where I keep all my stuff.”

 

[talien]

Chapter 11: Assault Upon the Gate of Tears

This is the first round of hard point 6 in Year 1 of the tournament module, "Assault Upon the Gate of Tears," written by Henry Lopez and Nelson Rodriguez and set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at http://www.onaraonline.org. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

· Kham Val’Abebi(val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.ninjarobotstudios.com)
· Quintus Ingatius (human clr4) played by Michael Tresca: http://michael.tresca.net
· Vlad Martell (human ftr3) played by Matt Hammer
· Ilmarė Galen (elf bard) played by Amber Tresca
· Holden Ash’ur (human ranger/wizard) played by Robert Taylor: http://www.storyboardz.net

Sean Smith was Dungeon Master for this session, allowing Rob to play along side us as the Milandisian grenadier known as Holden.

This scenario was our first battle interactive and it went…poorly. We tried to purchase as many scrolls and potions as we could to prepare, but you have to think strategically to use those items. We didn’t always remember to heal at the right times or not stand in the line of fire.

We learned a few things in this adventure though, and we learned them the hard way. For one, firing into combat sucks (-4 penalty without Precise Shot). For another, standing in a line is a bad, bad, BAD idea when you’re facing down a sorcerer with lightning bolt. And finally, never, ever put on the first ring you find.

A tough game, but it makes for an amusing story hour. And this is only the first half!

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Prologue

It had been mere days since they valiantly defended a Sanctorum of the Arcane hidden away in an ancient ruined city somewhere in the Hinterlands. Since that time, Y’vigne and Master Ecor contacted other Sanctorum across Onara, asking for assistance in a critical push against the Harvesters of Ymandragore and the machinations of the leader of the Ordainers, the traitor Lucious Orata.

“You came here awful fast,” said Kham with a smirk to his Elorii companion. “I didn’t think you cared for the fate of humans.”

Ilmarė whirled to face the Val, her silver-and-purple tresses whipping behind her. “This involves more than humans.”

“Oh right,” said Vlad, kicking at the ground. “Sevestia. Do you know her?”

“Do you know the name of every human?” asked Ilmarė, her lips pursed.

“Uh…well, no,” said Vlad.

“Then do not assume I know every member of my race,” she said.

“Where’s the rest of the gang?” asked Kham.

“Elabac summoned Beldin and Sebastian back to Solanos Mor. Something about taking on a new apprentice.”

“And the cat and the lizard?”

“The mission requires stealth,” said Ilmarė. “In Ymandragore, they would gives us away by their mere presence. Now where is Quintus?”

“In there,” said Kham, pointing a thumb at the tallest of the ruined temples behind him. “Looks like the elf—the other one—finally decided to share some information about the Harvesters.”

Ilmarė strode past him. Kham shrugged and nodded to Vlad. They walked in behind her.

They entered a cold, metal chamber, only to discover that the greatest Arch-Mages of Onara were already present. Quintus stood solemnly with several other men and women. Sevestia stood with them.

Master Ecor was addressing the assemblage. “I have been unable to make contact with Master Chivron. I fear he may have slipped too far to listen to reason. But I thank those of you who have made the journey.”

“Wow, Master Nevanbe’s here,” said Kham to Vlad. “We’re finally playing with the big boys.”

“We have the unprecedented opportunity to strike at the very heart of the Harvesters and of Ymandragore itself. Though I disagree with the method, certain members of the Hawk faction have been unwittingly assisting a former member of our Order, the traitor Orata. Orata has been revealed to be the head of the Ymandragoran finger known as the Seekers of Ordained Knowledge.”

Ecor went on to explain how Cassicus, Augustus val’Tensen’s son, had been infected with a magical disease that was infectious to sorcerers. Cassicus would act as a human bomb, to be delivered to infect the whole of the Isle and potentially the Sorcerer-King himself.

“They would infect their own kin,” said Ilmarė in disgust. “Barbaric.”

Looking contrite, Master Theron took advantage of a pause in Master Ecor’s speech. “Though we are sorry for the manner in which this has played out, it is a golden opportunity to strike at Ymandragore! The boy himself is resolved to see this through. He knows he will die regardless from this insidious curse and wishes to die for a reason, not hopeless and helpless in his bed.”

“Then we trade one monster for another?”

All eyes turned to a small man sitting upon an open-air litter. His ebony legs were frail and contorted in a manner that was painful even to look at. And yet, his voice was clear and commanding.

“At the very least, the Sorcerer-King is contained upon his rocky perch by the ancient Myrantian Curse. Would we not be loosening a monster that could then strike with impunity across the land?”

Matching his steely gaze, Master Theron turned to the wizened Altherian Magus. “No. Now that we know of his plot, we will teach this Ordainer the folly of using the Hawks as his personal plaything. We will indeed set the boy’s curse upon Ymandragore, but if all goes well, Lucius Orata will not live to enjoy it.”

Sevestia stepped forward. “The Ordainers’ base is hidden upon one of the many archipelagoes that surrounds the Isle of Tears. My father has been upon the tiny island many times and can lead a strike team directly down Orata’s throat.”

Shaking his head ruefully, Mater Ecor broke in. “Though I fear this may be folly, I have no choice but to believe that this may be our best chance for success. Here is what we have planned: Sevestia gave us the location of a gathering point for the Harvesters operating here in the Hinterlands and nearby nations. This base is well shielded from prying eyes as well as scrying spells. This particular gathering point has several escape tunnels strategically placed on the ground above that may allow us access to the base below.”

Gesturing towards the crippled Magus, Master Ecor continues. “Master Nevanbe’ has procured enough blastpowder to destroy these tunnel entrances, ensuring that no Harvesters escape to warn their fellows. Thus, the first order of business is to sneak down these tunnels and blow up the entrances.”

A man standing next to Quintus stepped forward. He had black hair, blue eyes, and was dressed in Milandisian attire. A large flintlock rifle was strapped across his back. “The entrances can be blown up by placing explosives at the base of the second set of wooden braces within the mouth of the tunnel,” he said.

Master Ecor continued. “Then, each strike team will proceed down into the base proper and make their way to the docking port inside a natural cavern that opens up to the sea. We have contacted the Pearl Maidens and have secured their services in ensuring that no one but our own people escape out that way.”

Sevestia stepped forward again. “As best as I can recall, the way to the cove is almost directly south of the escape tunnels. Keep on that course and you should be able to make your way to the docks with ease.”

There was some murmuring amongst the motley band of mercenaries, criminals, pirates and professional adventurers that had been assembled.

“One other thing,” said Sevestia. “Each Black Ship captain has a ring that commands those Infernals bound in the galley below. You must take the ring and command the demons to row out to the Pearl Maidens’ waiting ship so that the second stage of the assault can begin.”

“Of course, should you come across any vital pieces of information or an opportunity to cause even more problems for the Ymandrakes, feel free,” said Master Ecor, coughing into one fist. “Just keep in mind that the primary objective is to capture that ship!”

Kham smiled broadly at Quintus from across the room. “I knew you would need me on this mission!”

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gates of Tears - Part 1a: Into the Breach

The long trek from the Lost City of Balamshal to the southern coast of the Hinterlands had been arduous and taxing.

Vlad was visibly sweating in his Nierite full plate. He had painted it black, but nicks and scratches on the armor showed the red underneath, giving the armor the unpleasant impression that it was bleeding.

“I didn’t realize,” he huffed, “we’d have to travel this far.”

“Stop complaining,” said Kham, sweating beside him. “This armor is really uncomfortable.” Kham had traded in his traditional overcoat for Sicarite leather armor from a passing caravan of Yhing Hir traders. It was made of interlocked, water-shrunk leather plates tailored over a stiff bamboo framework that allowed more freedom of movement.

Vlad just shook his head in disbelief.

“Besides,” added Kham, “I’m carrying all this blastpowder.”

Vlad blinked. “Won’t you explode?”

“Only if you light it,” said an unfamiliar voice behind them. It was the other Milandisian, Holden Ash’ur. He had a belt of grenades slung over one shoulder.

Kham glanced sideways at him. “Yeah, right. We’re not going through any portals. It’d be a lot easier for the Arch Mages to teleport us to the destination, but the explosion would have destroyed the other half of what’s left of Balamshal.”

“For once, pay less attention to your powder horns and more to your vials and scrolls,” said Quintus, marching stoically ahead of them. He showed no signs of fatigue, even though they had been walking for hours. “The Arch Mages were kind enough to share their magic, but it does us no good if we do not know when and how to use it.”

“Share?” asked Kham. “I’m nearly broke from buying all this stuff. I wouldn’t want them to give us any supplies for free. It’s not like we’re saving the world or anything.”

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” asked Ilmarė in irritation.

“Speaking of not talking,” said Kham, “what’s up with you and Quintus?”

The corner of Ilmarė’s mouth twitched. “He believes he is going to die. He did not want me to come.”

“We’re all going to die,” said Holden. “Just a matter of whether you get to choose the time and place.”

Kham looked at Vlad accusingly. “Are all Milandisians that cheery?”

“Don’t look at me, he’s a clerk from the Shining Patrol,” said Vlad. “I’m just a conscript,” he took a swig from his wineskin. “We know how to have fun.”

They had arrived at their destination: a small rocky plain dotted with boulders. Six other teams stood around, preparing themselves for the bloody task ahead. Master Theron stood, pointing at one of the boulders.

“A clerk,” said Quintus, deciding to engage in conversation again. “I ask for the best men in the Empire and Milandir sends a clerk to join us?”

“Isn’t a signifer the equivalent of like, a Coryani accountant?” Kham asked innocently to Qutinus’ black.

Theron struck the ground behind the rock, dispelling the illusion. Only a black, gaping maw of a tunnel was left behind. He repeated the gesture six times and then, with a final nod, teleported away to a waiting ship somewhere off the coast.

“I may be a clerk,” said Holden, hefting a satchel full of scrolls, “but I know explosives better than anybody. I’m also a grenadier.”


“And I am a legionnaire,” said Quintus. “Let us hope between us that we have skills enough to survive. This day, we will perform acts of unparalleled bravery,” said Quintus, stepping down into the tunnel entrance.

“Or utmost stupidity,” said Kham.

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 1b: Into the Breach

“Okay, we’re going to have to be at least fifty feet away when the blackpowder blows,” said Holden.

“How long will we have?” asked Quintus.

“Ten seconds, give or take.”

“Give or take?” asked Kham. “Listen, my people invented blastpowder. You don’t mess with this. We’ve got to blow this behind us, right?”

“Yes,” said Vlad. “That’s to keep them from the Harvesters from escaping.”

“I don’t suppose any of you figured out that we’re sealing ourselves IN with those crazies?”

“The thought did cross my mind,” said Ilmarė.

Quintus started picking up barrels of blackpowder. “Let’s get to work then.”

“Fine,” said Kham. “You stack the explosive stuff and I’ll make sure that the way is clear.” He pulled two pistols out from his bandolier. “Coming Vlad?”

Vlad looked back and forth between Kham and Quintus.

“Go with him,” said Quintus. “We can handle this.”

Ilmarė dusted her hands. “I’d rather go with Kham than deal with this disgusting powder,” she said.

Quintus turned his back on her and resumed stacking the powder kegs.

“Man, he really pissed at you,” said Kham as he edged his way into the darkness. “I’ve never seen Quintus so angry.”

“It’s not anger,” said Ilmarė, turning to face Vlad. “It’s human stubbornness. No man tells me what to do.”

Vlad blinked as Ilmarė placed her hands on his wooden shield. She whispered something in Elorii and the shield began to glow with a soft purple light.

“Whoa,” said Vlad. “Does my shield have any special powers now?”

“Yes,” said Ilmarė. “It grants you the power of sight. You will be useless to me stumbling around in the darkness here.”

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” said Kham, pointing behind her.

“Why?” asked Ilmarė. She turned to look.

Three faceless humanoids stood mutely before them, their torsos ringed with tentacles. One arm was shaped into a blade, the other like a shield, an insane mockery of normal soldiers sculpted of flesh and bone.

“Oh,” said Ilmarė.

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 1c: Into the Breach

“Quuuuintuuuuuus!” shouted Kham from the darkness.

Quintus finished stacking another powder keg. “What is it?” he shouted back.

“Tentacles and bones!” said Kham, skidding out of the tunnel into the ambient light of the cavern mouth.

Quintus grabbed his spear and shield. “I know how to deal with those.”

“Good!” said Kham. “I don’t. I’ll uh…” he looked at Holden, who was holding a powder keg in both hands. “I’ll help stack the explosives back here. Besides, I’m an Altherian, I know about these things.”

With a shout of “letum infernus!” Quintus plunged headlong into the darkness. Kham ran past him in the other direction.

He came upon a desperate scene. Vlad was on the ground along with one of the Ymandragoran thralls. The big man was ramrod stiff, a grimace frozen on his face.

“Quintus, look out!” said Ilmarė.

One of the thralls bent over as if wheezing. Then it arched backwards, launching a string of entrail-like tentacles at Quintus’ head. He lifted his shield just in time to stop the blow.

“Be careful,” said Ilmarė, slashing at the shield of the other thrall. “If that tentacle hits you it will para—“

The Elorii fell over in mid-sentence as the second thrall’s tentacle snapped back into its body cavity.

Quintus put his right side to the tunnel wall as the two thralls advanced on him, hissing and snapping. The tentacles fired out repeatedly from their torso, snatching at any limb they could grab. He was trapped.

There was a loud KA-BLAM! and the head of one of the thralls exploded into pulp. When the other turned to watch its companion fall, Quintus skewered the thing with his longspear.

“Nice shot, Kham,” said Quintus. He stepped over to attend to the Elorii.

“You’re welcome,” said Holden with a smile. He lowered his still smoking rifle and holstered it across his back once more.

Kham ran past them both. “Grab somebody and run!” he shouted. “I just lit the fuse!”

Quintus picked up Ilmarė and Holden grabbed Vlad.

“Is he always this impulsive?” asked Holden.

The deafening boom behind them drowned out Quintus’ response.

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 2a: A Fork in the Road

With the entrance sealed, the passage had become very dark and claustrophobic. Dust swirled around them, making breathing difficult.

“I wish you had waited to let me place the charges a bit better,” said Holden as a trickle of dirt fell from the ceiling. “If the ceiling collapses, we’ll be buried alive.”

“Hey, I saw two people down and Quintus by himself,” said Kham. “I made a command decision.”

The passageway sloped down at a gentle angle for a good 300 yards until the dirt passage leveled off and became paved in a strange, spongy and porous stone. It continued like that for another 50 feet before a light could be seen spilling out from somewhere ahead.

“Great,” said Vlad. He flexed his limbs a few times to shake off the paralysis of the thralls. “Now what?”

A series of metal bars barred the way, fifteen in all. They ran sideways, from wall to wall.

“Too bad the big, angry lizard isn’t here,” said Kham. “We could just point him at the bars and stand back.”

“The big, angry what?” asked Holden.

“It’s a long story,” said Ilmarė.

Vlad glanced down at his belt. He had acquired several vials from the Arcanum. With one hand, he flicked the cork off one of the vials and gulped its contents.

“What are you doing?” asked Quintus.

Vlad blinked and took a deep breath. A vein in his forehead began to pulse. There was the sound of creaking leather.

“Are you making that noise?” Holden asked of Vlad.

The big warrior was too preoccupied with the newfound strength surging through his veins. The potion tasted like bull’s sweat, but the rush was worth it.

“Magic,” said Vlad, gasping. He walked over to the bars.

“Vlad, wait. Those bars might be—“ said Ilmarė.

His armor creaking from the strain of extra muscle bulging beneath it, Vlad gripped two bars and wrenched them apart. Sparks of electricity arced around him; to his companions’ metal weapons, to other bars, and most of all his full plate armor. When he didn’t release the bars, Quintus slapped him aside with his spear. Vlad finally let go, his teeth gritted and his limbs twitching from the blast of energy.

The electrical current left both men blackened and smoking on the ground.

“—trapped.” said Ilmarė.

“That was an excellent imitation of Cal,” said Kham with a smirk.

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 2b: A Fork in the Road

The cavernous chamber was circular in shape. Cages of all sizes stood silent and empty, a grim reminder of the fate of those who fell prey to the Ymandrakes. There were three obvious passages from the room to the south, southeast, and southwest.

“Looks like it was used as a staging area for those who were about to be Harvested,” said Holden.

The chamber was lit by undecipherable glyphs embedded at strategic locations upon the spongy walls. Their pale yellow glow cast a sickly gloom. At the far end, near the southeastern passage, a metal cabinet stood alone.

“Careful,” said Quintus, shield up and spear out.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Kham walked over to the cabinet and opened it up. It was a large affair with drawers.

“Let’s see,” said Kham, throwing things out behind him. “Some manacles,” chains fell to the ground. “Couple of scroll cases.” Three scroll cases fell to his feet. “Now this is interesting.”

Kham held up a plain golden ring. “You need a ring to command the Ymandragore ships, right?”

“Yes,” said Quintus, “but you don’t know—“

Kham slipped the ring on the middle finger of his right hand and admired it. “Nice. I wonder how much it will sell…” Another ring appeared on the middle finger of his left hand. “Cute, a matching pair,” he said. Then his amusement turned to horror as the two rings slowly forced themselves together. With a loud SNAP! Kham’s hands were forced into a praying position.

“Praying to Althares?” asked Quintus.

“My fingers…they’re stuck!” said Kham.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you put it on,” said Ilmarė.

“This is not funny!” said Kham, his voice rising in panic. “I need my hands! I can’t shoot without them!”

“Here, let me try,” said Vlad. He struggled to wrench Kham’s hands together but only succeeded in separating them by a few inches. Then they snapped back together again.

“You, whatever your name is,” said Kham to Holden. “You know how to use a pistol, right?”

“Well, I’m really more of a rifleman, but—“

“Shoot my fingers off,” said Kham, his tone deadly serious.

“Kham I don’t think that’s going to work,” said Quintus. “Your pistols are not very precise.”

“It’ll work,” said Kham, his forehead beading with sweat. “Just shoot them off. Come on, do it!”

Holden began rummaging through his scrolls.

“There’s no weapons in there,” said Kham. “Just take one of my pistols from my holster. Do it!”

Quintus stepped forward between them. “Calm down. There’s got to be a better way.”

“There is no better way!” shouted Kham. “I’m stuck in this insane place without access to my pistols. I’m as good as dead like this!”

“He’s right,” said Ilmarė. “I’ve got a knife. I can saw his fingers off.”

Vlad put one hand on Kham’s shoulder. “I think you should take a deep breath.”

“No! You take a deep breath!” shouted Kham. “I’ve got to get these things off fast! It’s the only way! You, grab one of my pistols and—“

“Lubricus!” shouted Holden, reading from a scroll.

Kham’s hands were covered in a strange, slippery substance. Kham struggled for a moment, and then the two rings slipped off his fingers and onto to the cavern floor with a tinkle.

The Val shook the goo off his hands. Without saying another word, Kham stalked off down the southern passage.

A muffled explosion boomed behind them.

“Another of the strike teams has collapsed a tunnel,” said Holden. “We’d better get moving.”

“Well,” said Quintus, “south it is.”

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 3: The Bridge is Out

The passage went down a ways before opening up into a small chamber. It had a wide and fast moving underground stream slicing through it.

“I don’t have time for this,” muttered Kham.

The stream was 40 paces wide and the current flowed quickly and violent through it from one of the chamber to another. The passage would normally not have been a problem, as a wide, wooden footbridge had been built to cross over it. But someone had destroyed the center portion of the bridge.

“Freaking Ymandragorans,” Kham said, pulling out a length of rope.

Only ten feet of each side of the bridge remained. The current was so forceful that it rattled the cavern. Kham could feel it through his feet.

He tied a rope to one end of the bridge. Then he took ten steps backwards. Then twenty. With a running start, he hurled himself across the chasm, landing on his feet on the other side of the bridge.

Kham turned and speared his scimitar into the soft earth of the tunnel. He tied the other end of the rope to the hilt.

“I want my scimitar back, Quintus!” he shouted over his shoulder.

And then, still muttering curses to himself, Kham stalked off down the passage.

 

[talien]

Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 4a: Inner Conspiracies

Kham stopped at a large door, more ornate than any of the others along the corridor. Blast burns lined the walls, indicating that perhaps one of the other strike teams passed that way already. He could hear voices conferring in hushed tones.

The Val craned his neck to listen.

“We have little time to conclude this. My Master believes the Harvesters sent to capture the boy have failed, as no word has come from them. But his plans are too far along to postpone them now.”

A sibilant voice responded. “Master Orata’s plans are known to us, Commandant. Should he succeed…”

The other cut him off. “…your people will know power undreamed of. Help us at this critical juncture and you will be the savior of your race.”

After a moment, the other voice responded. “Agreed. We will send our most talented. I have already seen to the neutralization of the mold. Gemellus Pravus will not live to see the next morning.”

“Excellent. With his death blamed on one of the other Fingers, Ymandragore will be awash in paranoia as rivalries turn into bloody war.”

“I have agents assembled, ready to assist your servant,” said the softer voice. “How will we know who to assist?”

“You shall know him,” the other voice said cryptically, “by his smile.”