no way!
The Ruins of Hellgate Keep, Late Summer, 1378, Year of the Cauldron
It was a horrible, horrible place.
Benito looked out across the blasted plain that the fortress of Ascalhorn once surveyed. Piles of debris, looking like giant-sized cairns, were scattered from here to the the edge of Turlang's Wood. Only now, nearly a decade since the destruction of Hellgate Keep was the land surrounding it beginning to recover, and that was just with the continued presence and horticulture of Turlang and his treants. The Mistmaster had been correct. Such an artifact as the Gatekeeper's Crystal was not meant for mortal hands. Behind him lay ridiculously deep pit where once had stood a mighty keep. Only three small pathces of earth remained on the top of the butte where it had stood. The Companions of the Quest had climbed to the southermost of these patches and found a set of aboveground ruins. Benito was surprised that anything had remained standing. Already Grim was scouting ahead, wary for any surprises.
The destruction of Hellgate Keep was more than physical. They all felt the tear in the Weave itself as areas of dead magic and wild magic lined the pit and lay within. Benito could not even look down. It had given him an un-natural feeling of vertigo. Even the Mistmaster's Djinn servant, Hassan, avoided the edge, and because of him, they had discovered that magical flight was impossible. Only Ivan, having no natural magical abilities was unaffected by the icky feeling of the cracks in the Weave.
"Hey guys, come and check out the view! It's amazing," called out the Rashemani swordmaster.
Ivan was amazing, mused Benito. He was still in good spirts despite the accidental spill he had had from Grim's new magic carpet. Benito shook his head. They were still rusty from the years apart, and it was taking time to relearn how to read each other's actions. The cleric of Ilmater had thought Grim's howling was of pain, not delight, and had yanked him from the 'grasp' of the carpet. Since he was the driver, the carpet had fallen out of control with Ivan still on board. The warrior had crashed into a grove of trees and had needed much healing.
Benito examined his actions deeper. Perhaps it had been a lack of trust of the gift that the Mistmaster had given his halfling friend. The wizard-cleric of Denier had been very generous, giving all of them useful magicks. How could Benito not trust him?
Help me, Ilmater, to see the good in people...
The Mistmaster had removed the geases placed on Kyros, Aris, and Nosr, free of charge. Then he had opened a worldwalk gate to put the party right by their destiniation. He had asked Benito to bring back the shard of the Gatekeeper's Crystal that lay in the ruin, but without compulsion. The cleric certainly had a healthy fear of the Mistmaster and would definitely not run away with such a destructive artifact, but in his past experience, wizards and even the Mistmaster himself, had been heavy-handed.
Aris gave the all clear sign passed from Grim, and Kyros called to Ivan and Benito.
**
Grim had found a way down into the depths and his superior training, although sometimes slow, allowed him to pick his way flawlessly, disarming traps and shoring up unstable construction. In the underlevel of this building, the shadowdancer had even been rewarded for his thoroughness. He had found an ancient elven shield with a powerful offensive spell.
The stairs were particularly dangerous. The party carefully descended, clear of the intended path thanks to a a powerful spell that Benito had cast. It led them straight down, bypassing several sublevels that were beneath the tor. At the bottom, however, Benito had said the the path had become jumbled and then ended. Without incident, they reached the end of the stairs and the very bottom of Hellgate Keep. The companions had a strong feeling of dread even though the ruin seemed nearly abandonded. Faint noises had been heard here and there, but the whole place, save for that sense of foreboding, appeared deserted.
How many victims had been tortured in these halls? How many poor souls had been unwillingly bred with the foul creatures from the Abyss? For countless centuries, demons had ruled from these underhalls, raping and pillaging the surrounding lands. The mythal surrounding the ghoul-hold had prevented more from entering, but that did not prevent the denizens from capturing orcs, humans, and anyone else for their "nurseries". They had even perverted a tribe of the Uthgardt barbarians to the point that they had become cannibals. Ironically, it was their attack on the Mistmaster that had finally brought about the keep's annihilation. With the Gatekeeper's Crystal, the Mistmaster and two Harpers that had infiltrated the keep destroyed the mythal, creating such an intense magical feedback, that it had levelled the mighty fortress, and much of the butte on which it had stood. The Harpers had sacrificed their lives for the cause.
Aris wondered if his fellow companions would do the same. He knew that he would lay down his life for his friends, and perhaps that was all that mattered.
They would have wandered the halls aimelssly had not Kyros been a student of geometry and had photgraphic memory. He deduced that the shard of the crystal must lie at the bottom point of the pyramidal-shaped crater. With some further calculations, he felt that the center of level they were on would be their goal. Benito solved the problem by summoning a squad of thoquaa to burn holes in direct path to the center. Strangely, they were hard to control, somehow warped by the evils and strange magicks of this place, but Benito willed them to get the job done and soon there was a nice hole that Grim was able to walk through--the rest would have to crawl--and the tunnel led into a very large room.
You were right Kyros! he sent back and continued into the tunnel.
Suddenly, Grim felt pain as a cloud of noxious gas filled the tunnel. Then as he tried to move back to his friends he ran into a wall of ice
It's a trap! he yelled telepathically.
He heard a muffled cry from the other side of the ice wall. Aris, Ellysidell, Kyros and Ivan had been watching the long hall in either direction, as Benito and Grim had been working the tunnel. Aris had really not liked the idea, but it was a better alternative to exploring the maze of a dungeon. He heard the pouding of heavy, booted feet echoing down the halls coming from both directions.
"A little faster please. We've got company!" cried the genasi.
Benito called back, "Grim is cut off!"
He sent back to Grim, My friend, I think we will soon have our own problems.
Aris recognized the enemy.
"Tannarruuk!" he screamed and drew his bow.
A score or more of demon-blooded orcs closed on them, cutting off any escape.
Grim was disheartened and still coughing from the killing vapors, but he had to get out. Things were getting bad, hopefully they wouldn't get worse. He peered out the far end of the tunnel through the haze of gas. He almost fainted in horror. Before him, waiting for the arrival of the party was a huge bat-winged, fire-enshrouded demon with a flaming sword and a whip. Terror and panic seized the poor halfling and he ran headlong back into the frozen wall.
It was worse.
