The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

[CrusadeDave]

Talen left Nelan to Allera, who supervised the casting of his restoration spell, as though their roles were reversed, and she was the old veteran and he the youthful neophyte. Although no one who knew the healer well would use the latter term, for in fact her power had now grown to the point where she was one of the strongest divine casters in the world.

Okay it's been 50 installments, time to update the Rogue's Gallery. I'm still trying to remember what Healers get at higher levels. Isn't there a 1/day Resurection ability eventually?

I don't post often, but read daily (The Last Story Hour I keep tabs on. Life is too busy). Keep up the great work. Maybe one day you will have need of my CR 32 Epic Red Dragon Encounter w/ stat block + tactics.

 

[Lazybones]

Okay it's been 50 installments, time to update the Rogue's Gallery. I'm still trying to remember what Healers get at higher levels. Isn't there a 1/day Resurection ability eventually?

I don't think they get the free life ability until very high level (I want to say 20th? I don't have the book in front of me).

I'll update the Rogues' Gallery today, and include Mehlaraine and Selanthas.

* * * * *

Chapter 242

RETURN TO THE THIRD TEMPLE


None of them could even see the keyhole, but Nelan, guided by the magic of his spell, slid the slender bronze key into a seemingly solid section of the stone wall. The head of the key vanished into the stone, and a soft click followed. The cleric’s companions watched warily as a crack appeared in the wall below the keyhole, and a solid panel of thick stone slid down into the floor.

The darkness beyond the door was almost tangible, and it seemed to retreat only reluctantly from the light of their torches. There was a faint odor of rot that rose up from below, sending chills running up and down the lengths of their spines.

“All right, let’s get moving,” Talen said. He nodded to Shay, who carefully moved forward. She carried her new flaming sword in lieu of a brand. The flames flared brightly around the sigil of the burning torch that was etched into the steel; like Beatus Incendia, the weapon was infused with the holy power of the Shining Father. How it had journeyed here, long forgotten in a crypt deep within Rappan Athuk, none of them could surmise.

The tunnel beyond the secret door was short and ended in a black shaft that descended straight down into darkness. A ladder of ancient bronze rungs offered a tenuous route of descent.

“You will forgive me, I hope, if I rely upon an alternative means for descent,” Honoratius said.

The archmage had rejoined them shortly after their departure from the first temple of Orcus. The aged wizard had reported, after he’d settled back into Letellia’s body, that the actual precincts of the shrine were opaque to him; he’d actually attempted to return sooner, during the long hours of Nelan’s hallowing of the place, but he explained that while he could sense the presence of his niece through the link forged by the Web of Transposition, his attempts to scry her location had resulted only in viewings of a pale, misty globe of neutral gray.

“That could be a problem,” Talen had said, once they’d digested the news. There were still two more temples left ahead, and they expected fiercer resistance as they got closer to their goal. But there was nothing to be done for it; they had no choice but to press on.

Shay rigged up a safety line, hammering one of her spikes into a crack in the wall before playing out a length of the rope down the shaft. But she did not immediately descend; they’d already agreed that Selanthas would scout out the descent first in this situation. Empowered with darkvision and overland flight spells by Alderis, and a blessing from Nelan, the elven archer slipped silently down the shaft, vanishing from their view within seconds.

The sum time that he was gone was barely longer than a minute, although it seemed interminable to those gathered around the top of the shaft. When he finally returned, the elf looked pale.

“It is clear all of the way to a small landing at the bottom,” Selanthas explained. “There is another secret door there, and a staircase descending yet further.”

“The secret door leads to another smaller side-temple, and the slave pits,” Talen explained. “But our destination lies down the stairs.”

“You look like you’ve seen a shade,” Dar said to Selanthas. The elf shook his head.

“Nothing... but there’s a dark feeling there. It suffuses the walls, the very air.”

“Yeah, wait until you get to the temple,” Dar said. “It makes the first seem like a sunny freaking meadow.”

“I’ll go down first,” Shay said, giving the rope a quick test before starting down on the ladder. Selanthas drifted back down, covering her descent, and after a few seconds the others started down after her. Talen had them stagger their descent, to avoid putting too much weight on the rope if the ladder gave way. The wizards could get them all down quickly with a feather fall if it came to that, but the knight commander wished to conserve their magical resources whenever possible.

Ultimately, Honoratius used the spell anyway, drifting slowly down the shaft to join them at the bottom. Nothing emerged to threaten them, but they were still wary as they started down the staircase.

The gloom deepened around them like a cloying mist, and the shadows around them seemed to shift and dance at the corners of their vision. When one turned, and focused a light on the darkened corners, only plain, ancient stone was revealed, but the mocking hints of movement returned as soon as the eye began to turn away.

Finally, Nelan grew impatient and summoned a daylight spell, but even that wholesome radiance only managed to create the impression that they were in a bubble, surrounded on all sides by a lurking darkness that pressed in at the very edges of the light.

“This place is... foul,” Mehlaraine said, her soft boots squishing slightly on the dank stairs.

“Yeah, welcome to the freaking pit,” Dar said. “At least we killed the bastards that were down here last time.”

“But who knows what they have waiting for us here now,” Allera returned. The healer’s comment sobered them, and they continued on in silence. The stairs finally ended in a familiar chamber, with a single door for egress. On their last visit, Shay had been ambushed by wraiths upon touching the portal, and they approached warily, alert for another ambush. But nothing greeted them either at the door or in the corridor beyond, and they continued forward, retracing their steps to the temple of Orcus.

“Where do those other passages lead?” Nelan asked at one branch in the tunnel.

“Evil,” Dar said.

“We go in, we hit the temple, and we get out,” Talen said. “No distractions.”

Nelan nodded softly to himself, but his gaze lingered on the other tunnel branch as they continued onward.

The passage broaded into a broad hall, lined with faint but still unsettling carvings etched into the stone. The huge black doors at the end were likewise familiar to them, but this time they stood open, frozen. Shay approached warily, probing the chamber beyond with the light of her sword. But nothing stirred in the darkness, which retreated before the power of Nelan’s summoned light.

“This is far too quiet,” Selanthas said. He held an arrow against his bowstring, slightly drawn; flickers of electrical energy periodically pulsed around the steel head.

“I would image that whatever foe lies in wait for us has situated at the temple,” Honoratius said. “No doubt the fell auras of those sites bolster adherents of evil, at our expense.”

“It is very close,” Talen said quietly. Shay had already moved to the wall to their right, where the secret door to the temple was hidden. It took her only a few moments to relocate the portal, and with Mehlaraine’s help she was able to pull it open. As the invisible aura of the temple washed over them, they all shuddered, but Honoratius drew back, nearly stumbling.

“It is interfering with your spell?” Allera asked.

The archmage rubbed his head with his slender, borrowed hands. “I can feel the aura even out here. If you intend to proceed, I am afraid that I must accelerate my departure.”

Talen turned to her. “All right. We’ll be out as soon as Nelan can hallow this temple, and you can rejoin us then.”

Honoratius nodded, and closed her eyes; after a few long moments Letellia’s shoulders slumped and she blinked. After spending time with the sorceress and her uncanny guest, they were able to recognize the subtle shift when the woman’s own personality returned, and the archmage disappeared for another day.

She looked around, getting her bearings. “We’re about to enter the third temple,” Allera said, placing her hand on the sorceress’s arm in a gesture of support.

Letellia nodded. “I am ready.” She checked to verify that her magical wands and other magical components were close at hand, and then moved forward to take her place in the order.

Once she saw that everyone was ready, Shay led them through the secret door into the temple. The illusory wall that had separated the small foyer from the cavernous chamber was gone now, its power source disrupted or depleted by the destruction of the Sphere of Souls on their last visit. But Nelan’s daylight revealed a bare fraction of the massive chamber. The companions knew that the back wall of the temple was nearly two hundred feet from where they stood, and that four massive pillars of bronze supported a domed ceiling that rose high above the dark dais where the image of Orcus stood carved in black stone.

The anteroom gave onto a long, broad hall, flanked by more modest pillars of bronze that formed an aisle down the center of the temple. Those pillars had once held graven depictions of unholy scenes in faded relief, but now they were distorted, the surface of the pillars slightly melted like a candle left too close to the hearth. There were no other signs of a fire, or any other apparent cause for the damage.

Nelan paused to invoke a magic circle against evil, but the spell seemed to do little to drive back the clinging malevolence that seeped through the very fabric of this place.

Slowly, Shay led them deeper into the temple. The ancient tiles beneath their feet were faded and cracked, and occasionally one would crunch loudly beneath their feet, the sound echoing eerily through the place.

“Hold,” Talen said, as they approached the great pillars. Each almost a full ten feet in thickness, these too showed the damage they had seen on the smaller ones earlier. They could see the huge statue of Orcus now, a vague shape against the far wall, an imposing shadow at the edge of their light. A great basin of hollowed stone lay before the statue, filled to the brim with blood kept perpetually hot through some unknown magic.

At Talen’s command, they stopped, staring around them into the darkness.

“We are not alone,” Alderis said.

Then the daylight went out.

The darkness descended upon them like a charging army, even as the companions thrust forward their magical brands against its press. Talen thrust Beatus Incendia into the air, invoking its power as a bright surge of white flames—underlaid with a soft glow of blue—rushed up the length of the steel.

The light cast by the sword revealed the truth of the elf arcanist’s statement, for the darkness around them was now alive with movement. Or rather, not alive, for the dark forms that filled the air under the dome, and which billowed out from the walls, were undead, shadows and wraiths and spectres, along with an entity or two yet more sinister.

There were hundreds of them.

A terrible shriek rent the interior of the temple, as the incorporeal legion descended upon the companions.

 

[Lazybones]

Short update today, but we'll have longer ones coming tomorrow and Friday. This cliffhanger was too good to pass up.

* * * * *

Chapter 243

THE LEGACY OF BANTH


“Circle formation... casters in the center!” Talen yelled, but with the undead able to fly, and nearly all of them coming from above, it was not clear what tactical benefit that would provide.

And then Alderis cast his repulsion spell. The spell was the last and most powerful from Banth’s spellbooks that the elf had mastered. Now he put the power of the late Transmuter of Rappan Athuk to a good use, spreading his arms wide as he channeled the potency of the spell through him.

The undead army suddenly froze in mid-attack, as if they’d struck a stone wall.

Or at least most of them; some of the undead were able to overcome the power of the spell, and dove shrieking at the elf mage keeping their kindred in check. But the first cohort of those attackers were abruptly vaporized as blue fire exploded through their insubstantial bodies. Allera’s potent mass cure took out most of the diving undead; two wraiths were able to resist the full effects of the blast of positive energy, but one was struck almost immediately by an enchanted arrow from Selanthas’s bow, destroying it. The other continued toward its prey, driven by its lust to taste the life energy of its enemies, but before it could get close enough to Alderis to strike, Shay thrust her enchanted spear through its body, catching hold of its substance and tearing it apart.

A few more undead continued to force their way through the invisible barrier of Alderis’s spell, but the vast majority remained just outside it, forming a roiling, shifting cloak of blackness around them.

“Missile weapons!” Talen yelled. “If you don’t have magical arrows, form up around the casters, kill any that get through!”

The knight sheathed Beatus Incendia and reached for his own magical bow. But even as he started to set the weapon’s string, he felt a dark cloud fall over his senses.

He was not the only one affected, as another confusion spell erupted through their ranks. Bolstered by Nelan’s magic circle, most of them were able to shrug off the corrupting effects of the spell, but even with that aid, Dar, Talen, Mehlararine, and Selanthas were all affected. Selanthas lifted his bow above his head and started screaming, while Mehlaraine started spinning around, uttering a string of vulgar profanities in elvish. Talen lifted his bow, still unstrung, and smashed it across Shay’s shoulders, staggering the surprised scout.

Dar, however, experienced his confusion in a different way; he ran, lumbering at full speed away from the embattled defenders.

Right toward the edge of the repulsion field, where a horde of undead waited eagerly for his arrival.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 244

RUN, DAR, RUN!


Dar, his mind clouded by magical confusion, sprinted toward certain death at the hands of dozens of incorporeal undead.

Allera was right behind him. The healer had not hesitated; she had recognized immediately what had happened, and before Dar had gotten a few steps she was rushing to catch him. She yelled his name, but the fighter did not respond, caught up in the temporary madness of the unseen enemy wizard’s magic.

With the fighter burdened by his heavy armor, Allera was faster, but the small lead he had was telling, and she realized that she would not reach him before he got to the edge of the repulsion field. The undead, recognizing the same thing, crowded around the spot where Dar was heading.

“No!”

With a sudden flash of white and a surge of cold air a wall of ice materialized directly in front of the fighter’s path. Dar hit it at a full run, smashing hard into the barrier and rebounding from it, falling hard onto his rear. He looked up at the wall, dazed. Above the top of the wall, ten feet up, several undead hovered above the curve of the repulsion field, hissing in frustration at their inability to get to their prey, so close and yet so far away.

Allera rushed at Dar, who snarled as he detected her presence. He lifted Valor, still clutched tightly in his grip, but before he could attack her, she poured a flood of restorative power into his mind, clearing away the mental cobwebs lingering from the spell.

The fighter blinked. “Allera?”

Mehlaraine’s clouded mind finally drew her attention back to her immediate environment. Her companions had drawn back from her, wary of her slashing rapier as she spun about, but there was one foe standing close by, and her attention was further drawn by the screams coming from him. Her mind failed to perceive her consort, instead fixing upon the deranged elf as a deadly foe. She lunged at Selanthas, cutting with Avelis. In turn, Selanthas countered with his ready bow, firing arrows into his beloved at point-blank range.

Fortunately both were protected by stoneskin, and the attacks did little damage, at least in the initial exchange.

Shay had her hands full just keeping Talen busy. She was fortunate that her lover had not had Beatus Incendia out when he’d been confused, but even so her left wrist throbbed where he’d snapped it with his bow. The bow was ruined as a weapon now, cracked from the force of his swings, but it was still intact enough to deliver painful hits when backed by Talen’s magically augmented strength.

She was just trying to keep him occupied until the casters could intervene, when she saw another threat descending upon them. Another wraith, arriving late to the party, had forced itself through the repulsion, and now it took advantage of the confused melee to drop upon Talen, its claws effortlessly penetrating his armor and raking his flesh. Talen screamed and turned upon the wraith, battering with his ruined bow, but of course the weapon passed harmlessly through it, doing no damage to its insubstantial form. The wraith seemed to swell as the knight’s life energy seeped into it, and a hollow cackle sounded from the dark points of light that formed its eyes.

Alderis drew back from the violent battle between his daughter and her consort; he moved just a few steps, but the undead swarming around the edge of his repulsion sphere moved with him, and those he approached were able to draw just that much nearer to him. He almost dispelled the confusion that gripped the other elves, before he realized that an area-effect casting of the spell would likely bring down the repulsion field as well. Likewise, an antimagic shell would break the effect, but it would also let the undead in, as the repulsion originated from himself, and moved with him.

He was about to cast the dispel on his daughter, when he felt a tremor pass into him through the active repulsion spell. For a moment he felt a cold fear in his gut as the invisible sphere trembled, but it held. He recognized the feeling as an attack on his magic; his own spell had come within a hairsbreath of being dispelled.

The elf looked up at the swarming mass above; there was still no sign of where the enemy spells were originating. But then Letellia drew his attention with a shout.

The sorceress had remained in the background during the initial exchanges with the undead horde. Once Alderis had established his perimeter, she’d carefully scanned the domed ceiling, looking for the enemy she had expected to be there. Even so, the confusion had caught her off guard, forcing her to use her magic to save Dar from running blindly out of the protected area. But once she’d conjured the wall of ice, she resumed her search, and when the enemy made its failed attempt to dispel the repulsion field, she saw it.

“Alderis! I need a dispel!” she shouted, pointing once she’d gotten his attention.

The spectre wizard was there, difficult to see near the shadowed apex of the dome. Mirror images and a shield protected it, again, and its position gave it a commanding access to the entire battlefield. The creature saw that it was observed, and it immediately began spellcasting again, its shifting images echoing the subtle movements of its transparent hands.

Alderis made his decision at once. Turning from his afflicted daughter, he released his spell at the spectre before it could finish. He was careful to focus the effect directly upon the creature, so that the backlash would not threaten the repulsion field. The mirror images and shield vanished, and the real form of the spectre shifted slightly to the side as a displacement was likewise sundered.

Letellia immediately fired off her readied lightning bolt. The electrical blast caught the spectre squarely in the center of its chest, ripping through its unholy substance. The undead wizard once again sought to withdraw, floating up toward the ceiling and the promise of escape, just a few feet away. But before it could find sanctuary within the cold stone, it was hit again. Nelan too had heard Letellia’s warning, and as the spectre reached its goal a beam of searing light cut through its body. With a screech that rapidly trailed off into nothing, the undead spellcaster dissolved and was no more.

But the defeat of one threat only highlighted the precariousness of their position. Shay was trying to keep the wraith off of Talen, whose violent swings grew weaker as the undead monster continued to siphon life from his body. The scout thrust her spear up at the creature, but this time the weapon failed to gain purchase in its insubstantial form, and it almost mockingly moved behind Talen, putting the confused knight between it and her.

“Can you help him?” Dar asked, as he and Allera rushed back into the fray.

“Yes,” she said, “But I only have two heals, and there’s three...” She trailed off as a loud boom reverberated through the temple. Selanthas, hit with a heavy blow from Mehlaraine’s thundering rapier, was blasted back a full step, and slumped to one knee, the arrow he’d been loading falling away to skitter across the floor.

Allera instinctively started in that direction, but Dar forestalled her. “First things first! Get Talen, I’ll deal with the wraith.”

The undead monster either heard him, or sensed him coming. It obviously also sensed the potency in Valor, for it drew back from its victim, pulsing with the life energy it had stolen. Dar followed it, and before it could get high enough to escape his reach he leapt and slashed his magical sword through its body. The sword met resistance, but the wraith was not vulnerable to the axiomatic properties of the blade, and it wheeled away, trailing bits of vaporous substance behind it.

Mehlaraine lunged forward at Selanthas, intent upon finishing off her consort, but she froze in mid-swing as Nelan hit her with his hold person spell. Selanthas, staggering back to his feet, fumbled at his bow for a moment before dropping it and reaching for his sword. He got half of the blade out of its scabbard before he paused, and blinked. “What...” he said, looking up at Mehlaraine, standing there trembling with her rapier poised to thrust into his heart. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the chaos that still pounded at him from the spectre’s spell.

“Hold your ground!” Alderis warned the archer. “The spell still fogs your mind, and you may lose control once more at any moment.” He looked at Nelan. “Cleric, can you hold my daughter?”

“She is fighting the spell with the full force of her will,” Nelan said. “She may escape its grasp at any moment.”

Alderis nodded, and cast his second dispel on Selanthas. The spell burned through the confusion, and the archer nodded in thanks, pressing his hand against his side where Mehlaraine’s critical hit had injured him through his stoneskin.

Allera rushed over, with Talen, Shay, and Dar trailing behind. The wraith, critically injured, had withdrawn out of reach above them, and it lingered there, waiting. Allera rushed over in front of Mehlaraine, and grasped her head with her hands. Nelan’s spell held, and the afflicted elf did not move as the healer worked her magic.

Talen glanced back over his shoulder at the wraith. He knew what it was waiting for. “How much longer?” he asked Alderis.

The elf shook his head. “Thirty, maybe forty seconds.”

The companions, save for Allera and Mehlaraine, looked up as one, at the swirling wave of darkness above them.

 

[Richard Rawen]

That is one helluva buildup to the Friday Cliffhanger LB... major anticipation, as well as no small amount of dread . . .

 

[Lazybones]

That is one helluva buildup to the Friday Cliffhanger LB... major anticipation, as well as no small amount of dread . . .

Heh, more resolution than cliffhanger in today's update, but I can promise some... interesting twists when they get to the last temple next week. Someone might not walk away from that one...

* * * * *

Chapter 245

THE BLASTING


“Let them have it!” Talen yelled.

Explosions rocked the interior of the temple. Letellia and Alderis, using their wands of fireballs, laid down a pattern of exploding spheres along the edges of the repulsion field. The incorporeal undead swarmed around that invisible barrier, seeking to avoid the bursts. The more clever of them, the wraiths and spectres, sought sanctuary from the barrage by vanishing into the floor. But most of the shadows lingered too long at the edge of the barrier to escape, and when they did break at last, they simply tried to get away any way they could, in some cases blundering into another fireball as they fled.

The other companions unleashed their own hail of destruction upon the undead. Nelan hit them with order’s wrath, and followed that with a flame strike that blasted a half-dozen shadows into oblivion. Allera’s mass cures tore more of the monsters to pieces, while Selanthas’s magically enhanced arrows punched through others, blasting them with discharges of electrical energy.

The warriors had nothing to do but watch the powerful display of raw magical power. The air in the temple grew noticeably warmer as the blasts of magical fire roared through the place, and several of the bronze pillars began to glow as they absorbed the heat. When the arcanists lowered their wands, the place was still once more.

“The repulsion aura is fading,” Alderis said. The elf spoke words of magic, and rose up into the air, replacing his wand of fireballs with another, the wand of magic missiles he’d taken from Theodorus Zosimos, slain in Rappan Athuk in another temple not so far from here.

“All right, everyone, watch the floor!” Talen warned, taking up a ready position.

As if summoned by his words, the misty outlines of spectres and wraiths rose up to attack, their insubstantial claws digging at the legs of the companions. Their initial attacks scored several hits, and a majority of the defenders suffered drains to their life energies in that first surge. But the companions had been ready, and in turn they unleashed a devastating counterattack upon the undead as they rose up into view. Allera blasted them with her last mass cure. While her most potent spells had been used earlier in the battle, even her mass cure light wounds was powerful enough to blast devastating rents in the bodies of the undead. Nelan did not bother to attempt to turn the malevolent creatures; the cleric could feel the evil pervading this place, and knew that he could not channel enough of the power of the Father to overcome the negative potency of the temple. But his spells worked well enough, as he blasted a wraith with his second searing light. Two other wraiths swept in at him from the flanks, but their claws had no effect; the cleric had taken advantage of the earlier lull to protect himself with a death ward.

Talen had likewise been protected by Allera, and as a half-dozen undead swarmed around him, clawing uselessly at his armored frame, he tore into them with Beatus Incendia. The blessed blade found purchase in their incorporeal bodies more often than not, and within seconds three wraiths, already weakened by Allera’s mass cure, were torn to pieces. The survivors drew off, seeking other targets, but the knight harried them mercilessly, surging white fire leaving glowing trails through the air as he swung the holy sword back and forth.

Streaking magic missiles filled the air, as Letellia and Alderis unleashed their magic. Mehlaraine and Selanthas stood back to back, defending themselves against several wraiths at point-blank range. Their stoneskins were of no use against the wraiths, but both elves were possessed of superhuman agilty, and Mehlaraine was further bolstered by Alderis’s mage armor. Surrounded on all sides, they could not avoid all of the wraiths’ attacks. But while they lacked the fortitude of their human companions, the wraiths could not stand up to their attacks, bolstered as it was by the firepower raining down from the wizard floating above. Within ten seconds the elves outnumbered the attackers, and the outcome appeared to be inevitable.

But the undead, driven by a force beyond themselves, continued to press their attack with an almost desperate intensity. Letellia blasted a pair of spectres that assaulted her at point-blank range; the first faltered against her layered shield and mage armor, but the second pushed around her flank, digging its claws through her body. The sorceress cried out as life was ripped from her, but before the monsters could exploit their advantage she straightened and fired off another series of blasts into the spectre she’d damaged. The monster was not destroyed, but a moment later it came apart as Shay thrust her spear through its head, severing the last tendrils of unlife that gave it existence. Letellia spun and shifted her shield around just in time to meet the next attack from the other spectre, which hissed in frustration as its claws were turned away from her flesh.

Dar found himself hazarded by another several wraiths, but they were finding it difficult to affect him with their draining touch, given his incredible fortitude. In turn, he was not having much luck with Valor, as the axiomatic blade passed harmlessly through the creatures in his initial series of attacks.

The fighter suddenly felt an icy chill stab into his body from behind. He turned to see a black form hovering there. A shadow, but this creature was bigger than the ones they’d blasted into oblivion before, a hoary ancient thing, full of negative power. It seemed flush with the strength it had stolen from Dar, and it eagerly surged forward again to feed upon him once more.

“I’ve already got a shadow,” the fighter spat, slashing at it with Valor. But once again the sword cut through empty air, and he could not help but pale as the terrible thing reared up over him, claws diving toward his chest.

But then the monster reared back, its grim outline contorting as it felt pain. The source of its suffering was just visible through its dark form: Allera, pouring a cure critical wounds into the creature. The healer grimaced as she touched it; she had not taken the time to ward herself from its negative energy, instead using the precious seconds to help her companions. The shadow, sensing this, turned upon her. It swiped a claw across her face, and she screamed, staggering back.

The sight drove Dar to a fury of violence. He drove Valor through it, through, back, and through again, his strokes as agile as though the heavy longsword was a wooden switch. The first attack passed through it harmlessly, but on the second and third strikes the magic of the sword, perhaps augmented by the will of its owner, found purchase in something substantial, and the shadow let out a shrieking hiss as it came apart.

Several wraiths continued to claw ineffectively at his back, and he spun to face them. “WHAT! Do you want some of this?”

As the individual battles raging around the circle began to resolve themselves in favor of the living, the last knots of undead came under heavy attack. Finally, belatedly, their instinct for survival overcame the drive to destroy, but for the remaining undead it was too late. The last spectre was vaporized by a barrage of nine magic missiles, while the one wraith that got away from Dar was hit by several magical arrows from Selanthas’s bow, and long trails of dissolving gray mist swirled in its wake as it passed back into the floor.

“Is that it? Is that all of them?” Talen asked.

The companions stood there in the pale circle of light from their magical torches, weakened and pale, but alive.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 246

SHADES OF THE DARK


Dar was in a dark, malevolent place. The fighter circled warily, alert to danger. Despite the absence of light, he was generally aware of his surroundings, his other senses compensating somehow for his blinded vision. But the details of his location were indistinct, hazy. Only Valor, the blue steel blade naked in his right fist, was clear. The pressure of the hilt, the weight of the sword, were something reassuring in this realm of uncertainty.

After a time, he spoke. “I am dreaming,” he said. His voice filled the gloom, but that too sounded unreal, muffled as though in a heavy fog.

The darkness shifted; what was just changed, and Dar saw a figure ahead of him.

He raised Valor as he recognized the man; the high priest that he’d killed in the slave pits under Rappan Athuk. But the figure was a shade, not a living foe. His left arm was severed at the elbow. Dar had taken the limb, moments before he’d impaled the bastard on his sword.

“I killed you,” he said to the shade.

The priest looked at him, and Dar felt an involuntary shudder as the shade’s empty orbs fixed on him. That feeling intensified as the dead priest repeated what he had whispered to Dar during the battle, just before his death.

“Your choice will decide her fate,” he said.

“Screw you and your god,” Dar said. He stepped forward toward the cleric, Valor coming up despite himself, but the shade dissolved into nothing, and the darkness returned.

He sensed the presence of the others a moment later, and turned. The darkness had retreated, partially, enough for him to make out the forms of row upon row of armed men. He knew these, too, for they were his men, the slain soldiers of the Border Legion. Their faces were vague, indistinct, save for the three in the front rank. Bullo, Travius, and Kalend fixed their empty stares upon him, in quiet indictment.

“I suppose you’re going to bitch about getting killed,” he said to them.

The formation of shades watched him in silence. Dar met that stare with equinamity, waiting for something to happen, but the only thing that he felt was the cold weight of those intent looks.

Finally, he spoke. “Well? What do you want from me?”

Still, the shades waited in silence.

“Fine, you lot stay here, you belong here, more than I. I’m getting out of this freaking place.” He turned and started walking, but he remained aware of the soldiers behind him. He could not hear the sound of their tread, but when he suddenly stopped and turned they were there, right behind him, keeping pace.

“I didn’t ask for this command,” he said to them. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I’m just a selfish gods-damned bastard of a mercenary, not some freaking general.”

Valor flared in his hand. Still the soldiers did not stir, but nevertheless Dar heard words, whispered as from the mouths of many men, the faded voices of every man who had ever died in service to Camar.

Duty. Honor. Sacrifice. The code of the legions. The words weren’t spoken often in the Border Legion, but even in his short time with them, Dar had learned that they were still there, beneath the surface.

“Go screw yourselves,” Dar said. He spun and walked away, briskly, not quite running. This time he did not look back, but he could feel them there, following.

He kept walking. The darkness around him seemed to extend for an interminable distance in every direction; there were no landmarks or distinctive features that he could see. There was nothing to do but keep walking, or to stop.

Dar’s jaw tightened, and he kept going.

There was no way to measure time in this place, but he was not yet tired when something appeared ahead. He slowed his approach, wary. He held Valor at the ready, although he doubted that a mundane blade would be of any use in this place. Still, the hard feeling of the hilt in his hand offered some comfort.

The figure resolved into the form of another shade. This one remained indistinct, and he could not identify it, except that it seemed vague humanoid. Dar watched it and waited for a moment, but the ghostly form did not do anything further, so he spoke to it.

“Well, ghost? Are you going to give me some crap, or what?”

The ghost quavered, like a cloak blowing in the wind. There was a voice, but it did not seem to come from the ghost. Dar did not recognize the voice at first, although it was very familiar, echoing with sepulchral intonations through this entire place, and in his mind.

“To confront the demon... the the apostate, the general, and the elflord... must sacrifice that which they hold most dear... and only thus... may the world of man be spared...”

The ghost hovered there as the words passed through him and faded. “So what does that have to do with me?” he asked. The ghost did not reply.

“Look, I’m tired of all these freaking games,” he said after a moment. He lifted Valor. “All I need, is a place to put this, and I’ll do for that bastard and his servants.”

But the ghost remained uncommunicative. Dar turned around, and saw that the fallen soldiers of the legion were gone. As he completed his spin, he realized that the latest shade, too, had disappeared; he was alone.

“Dar.”

With a start, he woke. Shay was kneeling above him. “Are you all right?”

The fighter blinked and looked around. They were in camp, in the temple of Orcus. He looked over and saw Nelan, surrounded by candles, still engrossed in his ritual. The spellcasters were still asleep, but he saw Talen standing near the cleric, and a slender shadow pacing the perimeter, that had to be Mehlaraine.

“What... what do you want?”

“It’s your watch.” The scout looked tired; Talen had insisted on keeping most of the fighters awake while the spellcasters rested and recovered their spells. Dar felt anything but refreshed. “Are you all right?” Shay asked.

Dar shook his head to clear it and levered himself up into a sitting position. He reached over and grabbed his armor, carefully stacked within easy reach.

“I’m fine. Get some sleep... if you can.”

 

[jensun]

Nice update, I'm guessing Varo by means of a Dream spell.

 

[Richard Rawen]

Nice update, I'm guessing Varo by means of a Dream spell.

That is an interesting possibility... would get Varo back into the mix... and explain why Dar of all people received this "prophetic vision"... instead of someone else. Say someone with a stronger Will to resist the spell?
Makes one wonder.
Of course I wonder why Varo was so keen to go in before... who would want to go there, let alone Back there!
(Yes, I do remember that he is Crazy, but . . . )

Lastly a few musings: How are they to get him there, and what does Varo sacrifice that is dear to him? . . . and more importantly, what is to stop some followers of Orcus from following them around and undoing their work as they complete it? Wouldn't an Unhallow and re-Desecration undo what they have fought to accomplish?

 

[Lazybones]

Lastly a few musings: How are they to get him there, and what does Varo sacrifice that is dear to him? . . . and more importantly, what is to stop some followers of Orcus from following them around and undoing their work as they complete it? Wouldn't an Unhallow and re-Desecration undo what they have fought to accomplish?

All very good questions. The module doesn't talk about re-empowering the temples, but from the context I gathered that creating them was rather more involved than just casting a few spells. Plus there aren't many high-level clerics of Orcus left in Rappan Athuk.

As for the vision, even I'm not sure of its source... but it is safe to say that we haven't seen the last of Licinius Varo.

* * * * *

Chapter 247

TWO DOWN


After the desperate battle against the legion of incorporeal undead, the actual destruction of the temple was rather anti-climactic.

Almost all of them had suffered from the life-draining effects of the undead creatures’ touches, but Allera had been able to restore all of them using her wand and rod. They had brought with them a considerable cache of diamond dust this time, but it was not unlimited, and at the rate that they were using their store of magic items and rare components it was likely that they would again be reliant solely upon their own spell reservoirs before too long. Still, they did not stint the charges, knowing that an enemy counterattack was very likely.

And yet the expected assault did not come. The spellcasters rested and recovered their magic, while Nelan initiated the ritual that would hallow the temple. Varo’s notes and the cleric’s own divinations had given him guidance on how to proceed, and so as he completed the day-long ritual he approached the dark altar, and using the power of the Shining Father he purified the unholy font of hot blood. White light shone around the cleric as the divine grace of his patron filled him, and the liquid in the basin became clear as the taint was siphoned off. A moment later the basin, as well as the hulking black statue behind it, cracked with a massive sound of rumbling stone, and the transmuted water splashed down the steps of the dais, washing away the layered blood and gore of generations of corrupted sacrifices and terrible rites of worship.

They had agreed before starting that they would spend a bit more time before moving out again, to give Nelan a chance to rest and recover his spells after the demanding effects of the ritual. Each of them felt the pressure of time, and knew that Orcus would not quietly wait while they destroyed his temples, but they had learned the hard way that rushing forward unprepared was a recipe for disaster. Before the priest retired to his bedroll, Talen approached him and Allera.

“What is it, knight commander?” the weary priest asked. Allera started to excuse herself, but Talen gestured for her to stay.

“Wait, Allera, this affects you as well. I need to know if you can protect the entire group against the draining effects of the undead attacks, and the mental attacks that affected us this time.”

The two casters exchanged a look. “Between the two of us, we can prepare enough death wards to protect everyone,” Nelan said. “At the cost of much of our higher-order reservoirs.”

“The spell is potent, but the difficulty is the duration,” Allera said. “At best, a death ward will last less than fifteen minutes, while Nelan will need a full twenty-four hours to hallow the final temple.”

“It is the first few minutes that I am worried about,” Talen said.

“You expect another ambush?” the healer asked.

“If what Varo and Honoratius said is true, the destruction of these temples greatly weakens Orcus’s power on this plane,” Talen said. “We might have gained a small advantage of surprise by bypassing the second temple in our initial attack, and coming straight here, but I expect that the demon will gather a strong force to challenge us there.”

“That assumes that the demon does not know exactly what you are doing,” Nelan said. “I have felt... a darkness, a presence, throughout Rappan Athuk. It is strongest here... or it was, before I hallowed the place.”

Talen nodded. “We can only act on what we know. Prepare the wards, then; we’ll use them when we arrive at the last temple. You can do nothing against the mind spells?”

Nelan thought for a moment. “I can grant spell resistance to a number of persons for a few minutes, but only at the cost of my most powerful spells.”

“Allera?”

“I cannot protect against all spells, but my heroes’ feast will provide protection against fear for twelve hours, and some marginal added resistance to attacks against the mind.”

“All right. Nelan, please protect yourself, and if you can, also Allera, when we get to the temple. Allera, once Nelan has rested, prepare your feast. We’re going to want to move quickly, once we’re done.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if Nelan granted you and Dar the spell resistance?” Allera asked. Nelan and I are fairly resistant to mental attacks...” She trailed off, not willing to insult the knight with the implication of her statement.

Talen grimaced; he understood what she meant. “If something happens to either of us, you two can do something about it... but it doesn’t work the other way around.” Allera bit her lip, but did not challenge him.

“Very well, commander,” the cleric replied. Talen turned and left them, heading over to where the elves were speaking quietly nearby. “That man carries a heavy burden,” Nelan commented.

“We all do,” Allera said, touching the priest on the shoulder.

The cleric nodded, and sighed. “Since you are all waiting for me, I suppose I should get some rest,” he said. Allera helped him with his armor, and then he wrapped himself in his bedroll, and lay down upon the cold stone floor of the temple. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

Shay watched from the shadows as Talen spoke first to Allera and Nelan, and then to the elves. He moved with confidence, having overcome his doubts about command. But Shay would have preferred the man who felt those doubts, who agonized about the responsibility he held for the lives of those who followed him, to the cold figure who had replaced him.

As Talen left the elves and headed toward the corner where he’d left his gear Shay intercepted him. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

“As well as can be expected. You should get some rest.”

“I will. Talen... there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

For a moment, a flash of uncertainty passed through Talen’s face, but it was quicky mastered. “Look, Shay, perhaps this isn’t the best time...”

“No, this is related to the mission.” She lifted her hand; in it was a ring of clear crystal. “I want you to wear this.”

“That’s the ring you got off the priestess, right? You should keep it. It came in very handy when we faced that demon.”

“No, I think you should wear it. Face it, I’m a lot faster than you, Talen. I can avoid many situations where I would get tangled up, grappled, or otherwise restrained. You, on the other hand...”

“Fat and slow?” he smiled at her, and for a moment there was a hint of the old Talen in him. Shay’s heart leapt, but she forced herself to keep the feelings hidden; she had to convince him that she was in the right here, and an appeal to the love they shared would only hinder her argument now.

“Well, I could provide a list of situations we’ve been in where you may have needed the ring’s power, but I think we both know it’s the best use of our resources.”

He looked at the ring, then at her. “No. Maybe you’re right, Shay, but I won’t take a protection from you. Keep the—”

“Something’s going to happen to you,” she blurted out.

“What?”

“Something is coming. Something bad. I... I saw it.”

“Look, Shay, I can’t blame you for having bad dreams, not in this place, but...”

“I don’t... please, Talen, I can’t explain it, but something terrible is going to happen, very soon. In the last temple, maybe. I have had this recurring vision... you are bound, held tight, unable to escape. If you have the ring, then maybe you can avoid whatever it is. I don’t know.”

She did break down then, just a little, coming forward into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, tentatively at first, and then finally tightened his grasp.

“Please, maybe it’s silly, but just do this for me... please?”

He nodded, and released her. He took the ring. “All right.” He removed the gauntlet from his right hand, and removed the ring there. “You have to take my ring of protection in exchange, however.”

She nodded, and took it, sliding it onto her finger. The magic of the ring was such that it adjusted to fit her perfectly, despite the different sizes of their hands. Talen put on the crystal ring, and replaced his glove.

“I had hoped we would be trading other rings, sometime soon,” he said to her.

She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Just... just be careful,” she said.

She turned, and walked away.