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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 632" data-attributes="member: 63"><p>Please take a look at the map of the Haranshire here. It's somewhat important to the next post. You'll have to copy and paste the url, rather than clicking the link. Something funky about geocities.</p><p></p><p><a href="http://www.geocities.com/rangerwickett/Haranshire.jpg" target="_blank">Haranshire Map</a></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong>Chapter Three: I Call Out Death</strong></span></p><p></p><p>Sitting amid the clutter of Tauster’s laboratory/bed room/living room/kitchen, Harley relates the events of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James throwing in the occasional mocking comment (usually mocking the ‘bad guys,’ but sometimes making fun of Harley for trying to run away). Allar and Bhurisrava listen intently, while Tauster flips errantly through the book hidden in the chest. </p><p></p><p>Harley suggests a connection between the Dwarves at the fair and this book. After being declared the heroes of the hour, Harley and James had learned from the mages of the Lyceian Academy that the Dwarves responsible for the trouble at the fair stole a small collection of books from a merchant. The books had been intended to be handed over to the wizards, and enchantments on the books kept them from being magically located through scrying.</p><p></p><p>Allar sighs at this, saying that he and his former adventuring friends had paid the academy a substanial sum for them to deliver the seven Books of Darlakanand. They had spent months hiring scouts to track down the locations of the books and return them to the Haranshire, where Allar and his friends could destroy the books. They had not told the wizards to destroy the books immediately upon finding them, because that would have tipped off the Academy as to how dangerous the books were. Allar doesn’t trust the Academy, and is fairly certain that they would perceive ‘dangerous’ to mean ‘valuable.’</p><p></p><p>They ask what exactly is so dangerous about the books, and so Allar recounts as quickly as possible his own group’s adventures in the Taranost, the network of caves commonly called the Land Below. Allar tells them to sit back and get comfortable, because it’s a long story.</p><p></p><p>Ten years earlier he and his friends were caught in a trap in an ancient Orcish tomb that stranded them in the Taranost, and before making their way back to the surface they discovered the first of many clues that would lead them to the source of a plan to dominate the minds of every creature in the world. The creatures working toward this goal were the Illithids, bizarre magical creatures with mind-control powers of their own, but nothing as long-range or comprehensive as their plan. </p><p></p><p>The Illithids were created as splinter personalities of a psionic Dragon that lived deep in the Land Below. Her powers were so great that she couldn’t control them, and each night in her dreams she would manifest a new nightmare that would take on the coporeal form of an Illithid. The Dragon had sequestered herself far from civilization in hopes of keeping these vile nightmares from harming anyone, but she had no power to kill them, and thus for thousands of years the Mind Flayers (as Allar and his group called the Illithids) had tried to reach the surface and conquer it.</p><p></p><p>Only relatively recently, about a hundred years ago, had the Mind Flayers succeeded in reaching the surface, and they had slowly been developing their plan. Whenever any surface-dweller learned of the plans, the Mind Flayers wiped their minds or dominated their wills, and in so doing had enlisted a large force to protect and aid them. The chief surface-dweller in this group was Darlakanand, a Dwarvish wizard who had managed to protect himself from the telepathic domination of the Illithids. Being forward-sighted, Darlakanand had agreed to work with the Illithids, since he knew that though he might be immune to telepathy, once the Mind Flayers had a large enough force they could kill him by more traditional means.</p><p></p><p>Darlakanand had devised a magical process that would allow the combined telepathy of all the Illithids and a bit of the Psidragon to manifest across the world, dominating all but the strongest-willed. All an Illithid would have to do is tell a creature to do something, and it would. Everything would be their slave.</p><p></p><p>Harley looks disgusted at this, and even James is put off by the idea. Bhurisrava seems to be having a hard time comprehending the concept, but even he realizes how bad such a thing would be. </p><p></p><p>Allar goes on, telling what he and his friend had to do with it. They had started as professional adventurers working for a patron, but slowly grew more involved in their own attempts to stop a plot they only had hints of. It took four years before they fully realized what was going to happen, and after that they had to be exceedingly careful, realizing how dangerous their foes were. Through luck and caution they were able to finally get one step ahead of the Illithids, find their way to their main city, and stop their plan, killing Darlakanand, the Psidragon, and a copious amount of Illithids in the process. </p><p></p><p>In the aftermath, many of the formerly-dominated surface-dwellers fled back to the surface, or into the caves of the Taranost, taking with them the treasure and bounty of the Illithid city. They heard rumors that among this loot were the eight books of Darlakanand. They were able to recover one already, which is being kept by one of Allar’s friends, and they were about to retrieve the other seven to make sure no one could attempt the same process, or at least not do so as easily. Apparently the Dwarves stole six of the remaining seven, which leaves this one book and the one kept by Allar’s associate. Having heard Harley’s story, Allar’s almost certain that the Dwarves were working for the Illithids. The presence of a mutated raknid with biomantically-grafted Illithid telepathy suggests that they were at least involved somehow.</p><p></p><p>Six out of eight of the books in the hands of the Mind Flayers. Allar doesn’t know how many someone would need to recreate the process.</p><p></p><p>Tauster chooses this moment to inform them that he’s been magically examining the book this whole time. Some magic about it protects it from damage while on the surface. It was penned in the Land of No Sun, and it can only be destroyed there. </p><p></p><p>That kills James’ plan, which was to just burn the book now. Just to be thorough, though, Tauster tries to destroy it with a <em>burning hands</em>, and at Bhurisrava’s encouragement Allar even tries slicing his magical scimitar through it. Afterward it is neither burnt not cut. It even resists an attempt to blot out the text. No new ink will be absorbed by its pages.</p><p></p><p>Frustrated, Allar paces the house for a few minutes. Meanwhile Bhurisrava, Harley, and James discuss the new information, finally coming to the conclusion that while it sounds bad, they can’t really do anything to help.</p><p></p><p>At that moment Allar turns back to them and shakes his head. “No, actually you might be some of the only people who can help. I need someone to keep watch here for suspicious happenings while I gather the others. I don’t want to try to destroy this thing until I have my other friends, and I’ll need them to track down whoever the Dwarves were so we can get the other books back.”</p><p></p><p>(in game terms, I hadn’t planned a sufficient reason for the party to stay around and investigate, so I shot for the tried and true method of hiring them)</p><p></p><p>Bhurisrava says he really has nothing to do with this. He was just passing through, and finds it all interesting, but not really worth him getting involved. James and Harley don’t really want to do it either, because they didn’t like one tiny raknid, so they definitely don’t want to deal with a whole army of mindwalkers. Nikal, who has been sitting quietly this whole time, yawns and says that he already has an employer. </p><p></p><p>And with that they thank Allar for helping them out, thank Tauster for tea (and toast), get Tauster to sign that he did indeed receive the chest, and leave to spend the day sleeping in the town’s shabby inn.</p><p></p><p>(the DM says to himself, oh crap, what now?)</p><p></p><p>Allar says to himself, “Oh crap, what now? Who knows who they’ll tell?”</p><p></p><p>Since they had been awake for an entire day, and had just arrived in Thurmaster right after dawn, Nikal, Bhurisrava, James, and Harley decide to sleep the day off. Slightly before noon James wakes Harley and Bhur, saying that he’s pretty sure the weather will turn bad by tonight. He wants to ditch Nikal just like he did to them, and Harley agrees that it’s fair justice. Bhurisrava, who had never really talked to Nikal much in the first place, agrees to go along with it since he wants to preach to them the word of the Lord.</p><p></p><p>Also, they want to leave while Allar still expects them to be asleep.</p><p></p><p>They take their horses (the ones Harlan gave them and the ones they stole from Milbourne) and get ready to ride out of the Haranshire. They briefly consider leaving the horses for Nikal to deal with while they go south through the Shreiken Mire, since it would be the faster route to Lyceum, but the innkeeper asks if they’ve heard about Inzeldrin, the green dragon that lives in the marsh. The party says no, thanks him for saving their lives, and decide to go west, back through Milbourne. They take the horses with them.</p><p></p><p>As they travel, stormclouds crawl in from the south, and it looks like by nightfall there’ll be rain. They pass quickly through Milbourne at dusk, staying just long enough to pick up some of the minor stuff they left in the inn there (I tried to stall them by having the innkeeper say that Allar had told him to confiscate their gear, but they go get the stablemaster and have him tell the innkeeper that they brought back the horses, so the innkeeper finally relents).</p><p></p><p>Deciding they don’t want to run into Allar by staying another night in Milbourne, they check the map Harley and James have and decide to head for the nearby town of Harlaton, only about another two hour’s travel south. They get there early in the night, just as it begins to rain.</p><p></p><p>They discover that the town only has a population of about 30, that the inn doubles as a general store and blacksmith shop, and that there’s no place to stable their horses since no one in town owns a horse. They already dropped off the ‘stolen’ horses in Milbourne, and had left one of their employer’s horses for Nikal, leaving them with three. They tether their horses to a tree, and after Bhurisrava apologizes to them for having to leave them out in the rain, they buy a room at the inn.</p><p></p><p>Still tired since they only got a few hours of sleep in the morning, and have been riding for nearly ten hours, both Harley and James immediately go to sleep. Bhurisrava stays up for a little while longer and talks to the innkeeper about the local churches, learning that a priest of Meliska operates a temple in Milbourne, that there’s a druid who lives in Thornwood, and that Lord Parlfray’s keep has a small shrine to Ondy Vegces, patron god of knights. The only prominent Christian in the area is a gnome named David, but he’s been off traveling for a few months.</p><p></p><p>Bhurisrava retires for a little sleep, as does the innkeeper/shopkeeper/blacksmith.</p><p></p><p>And they’re all awaked by the hideous sound of horses screaming.</p><p></p><p>Not knowing how long they’ve been asleep, James, Harley, and Bhurisrava burst out into the torrential rain, weapons ready. James sprints past their horses, thinking he sees a dark figure scuttling away into the darkness. Bhurisrava, faster since he’s not armored, runs to the horses, kneeling near the bodies. They’ve all been killed, their heads looking like they’d been torn open from within. Long slashes gouge across the horses’ flanks and bodies. Blood mingles with the roaring rain, staining all of their gear that had been in the saddlebags. Whatever killed the horses ripped through the bags, scattering the contents across the ground. </p><p></p><p>People have come out of their houses to see what’s going on, but in the pouring rain it’s hard to make anything out. Bhurisrava says a quick prayer for the horses, then stands and runs over to Harley and James. They’ve stopped in the tall grass behind the inn, looking at faint tracks in the mud, caused by what look like bare feet. The tracks head off in the direction James saw the dark form scuttle away. </p><p></p><p>Harley at first doesn’t want to go, but James reminds her that the person who killed their horses just cost them several hundred gold pieces that they’ll have to pay back to Harlan. Since he tore through their bags, he seems to be looking for something, which means he might come after them next. James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her along, saying that it’s safest to deal with the person now while they have him on the run. Bhurisrava agrees, angered that anyone would so cruelly kill innocent animals. Through the thunderously loud storm, they follow the tracks toward the woods.</p><p></p><p>The trail is easy to follow through the mud, but when they reach the woods the going becomes difficult. The forest is called the Thornwood because nearly every plant in it has spines or thorns, even the trees. The person they’re pursuing is taking no care to hide his trail, and branches are broken and bits of black cloth torn in an obvious trail heading deeper into the woods. Over the course of an hour, the rain slowly abates, and their urge to run after their target fades. The trail heads for higher ground, scaling slick muddy slopes far more easily than any of the group can. Harley suggests turning back, since they might be being led into a trap, but James calls her a coward and says they’ll keep going for one more mile before they turn back.</p><p></p><p>Wet and tired, they press on through the drenched forest. It stops raining, but the clouds hang low and the entire forest is filled with a watery haze. Finally, just before they’re ready to turn back, they see the trail open into a wide grassy clearing. James curses, realizing that they must’ve fallen far behind their quarry, and though it was easy tracking him through broken branches that have thorns to snag cloth, it’ll be nearly impossible to follow him through grass.</p><p></p><p>Harley rants at James for a few minutes while they rest to catch their breath, hoping another storm doesn’t roll in. Thunder rumbles distantly, and Bhurisrava grumbles about the horse-killer being a coward. Frustrated, he shouts loudly and angrily into the woods, “I know you’re out there, you bastard. You think you can kill our horses, huh? Big ‘death’ man, huh?! Well I’m calling you OUT! I’m calling out Death! Come on you pussy!”</p><p></p><p>Through the din of the thunder emerges the sound of someone rushing through the forest toward them. They stand anxiously and ready their weapons, Harley chiding B-man for being loud enough to let everyone know where they were.</p><p></p><p>From the opposite side of the clearing bursts Nikal, rushing toward them, clutching something to his chest. Bhurisrava scoffs, disappointed at the lack of Deaths, but the terror in Nikal’s eyes worries them.</p><p></p><p>Nikal sees them and screams briefly, his voice piercing the night. He hesitates for a moment, seemingly afraid of the party, but then he shakes his head viciously and shouts for them to run. He himself begins to run, and James tries to catch him before he sprints past them, but suddenly James, Harley, and Bhur catch sight of a dim glow coming out of the woods from the same direction Nikal came. Nikal turns and looks, then falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain, dropping before him the thing he’d been carrying. Aside from Nikal’s pained whimpers, a hush falls over the group.</p><p></p><p>A dark-clad figure, heavily hooded, emerges from the darkness of the opposite side of the clearing. It floats through the grass toward them, its thick black robes concealing its stride. A mist seems to flow behind it, blotting out the forest as a chill fog begins to roll toward them. It holds a small orb of waxy light that dimly illuminates the clearing. As it comes within 20 feet, they can see pale purple tentacles writhing from underneath it’s hood. From its right sleeve extends a similarly pale purple swordblade, looking like its made of flesh and bone.</p><p></p><p>A stream of words and the emotion of urgency enters their minds, somehow detached from any real voice.</p><p></p><p><em>The book.</em></p><p></p><p>The dark figure holds out its hand toward them, either in offering or as a demand. The ominous blade it holds seems to suggest the latter.</p><p></p><p>Bhurisrava chuckles weakly. “Oh crap. I didn’t think Death would answer.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 632, member: 63"] Please take a look at the map of the Haranshire here. It's somewhat important to the next post. You'll have to copy and paste the url, rather than clicking the link. Something funky about geocities. [url=http://www.geocities.com/rangerwickett/Haranshire.jpg]Haranshire Map[/url] [size=3][b]Chapter Three: I Call Out Death[/b][/size] Sitting amid the clutter of Tauster’s laboratory/bed room/living room/kitchen, Harley relates the events of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James throwing in the occasional mocking comment (usually mocking the ‘bad guys,’ but sometimes making fun of Harley for trying to run away). Allar and Bhurisrava listen intently, while Tauster flips errantly through the book hidden in the chest. Harley suggests a connection between the Dwarves at the fair and this book. After being declared the heroes of the hour, Harley and James had learned from the mages of the Lyceian Academy that the Dwarves responsible for the trouble at the fair stole a small collection of books from a merchant. The books had been intended to be handed over to the wizards, and enchantments on the books kept them from being magically located through scrying. Allar sighs at this, saying that he and his former adventuring friends had paid the academy a substanial sum for them to deliver the seven Books of Darlakanand. They had spent months hiring scouts to track down the locations of the books and return them to the Haranshire, where Allar and his friends could destroy the books. They had not told the wizards to destroy the books immediately upon finding them, because that would have tipped off the Academy as to how dangerous the books were. Allar doesn’t trust the Academy, and is fairly certain that they would perceive ‘dangerous’ to mean ‘valuable.’ They ask what exactly is so dangerous about the books, and so Allar recounts as quickly as possible his own group’s adventures in the Taranost, the network of caves commonly called the Land Below. Allar tells them to sit back and get comfortable, because it’s a long story. Ten years earlier he and his friends were caught in a trap in an ancient Orcish tomb that stranded them in the Taranost, and before making their way back to the surface they discovered the first of many clues that would lead them to the source of a plan to dominate the minds of every creature in the world. The creatures working toward this goal were the Illithids, bizarre magical creatures with mind-control powers of their own, but nothing as long-range or comprehensive as their plan. The Illithids were created as splinter personalities of a psionic Dragon that lived deep in the Land Below. Her powers were so great that she couldn’t control them, and each night in her dreams she would manifest a new nightmare that would take on the coporeal form of an Illithid. The Dragon had sequestered herself far from civilization in hopes of keeping these vile nightmares from harming anyone, but she had no power to kill them, and thus for thousands of years the Mind Flayers (as Allar and his group called the Illithids) had tried to reach the surface and conquer it. Only relatively recently, about a hundred years ago, had the Mind Flayers succeeded in reaching the surface, and they had slowly been developing their plan. Whenever any surface-dweller learned of the plans, the Mind Flayers wiped their minds or dominated their wills, and in so doing had enlisted a large force to protect and aid them. The chief surface-dweller in this group was Darlakanand, a Dwarvish wizard who had managed to protect himself from the telepathic domination of the Illithids. Being forward-sighted, Darlakanand had agreed to work with the Illithids, since he knew that though he might be immune to telepathy, once the Mind Flayers had a large enough force they could kill him by more traditional means. Darlakanand had devised a magical process that would allow the combined telepathy of all the Illithids and a bit of the Psidragon to manifest across the world, dominating all but the strongest-willed. All an Illithid would have to do is tell a creature to do something, and it would. Everything would be their slave. Harley looks disgusted at this, and even James is put off by the idea. Bhurisrava seems to be having a hard time comprehending the concept, but even he realizes how bad such a thing would be. Allar goes on, telling what he and his friend had to do with it. They had started as professional adventurers working for a patron, but slowly grew more involved in their own attempts to stop a plot they only had hints of. It took four years before they fully realized what was going to happen, and after that they had to be exceedingly careful, realizing how dangerous their foes were. Through luck and caution they were able to finally get one step ahead of the Illithids, find their way to their main city, and stop their plan, killing Darlakanand, the Psidragon, and a copious amount of Illithids in the process. In the aftermath, many of the formerly-dominated surface-dwellers fled back to the surface, or into the caves of the Taranost, taking with them the treasure and bounty of the Illithid city. They heard rumors that among this loot were the eight books of Darlakanand. They were able to recover one already, which is being kept by one of Allar’s friends, and they were about to retrieve the other seven to make sure no one could attempt the same process, or at least not do so as easily. Apparently the Dwarves stole six of the remaining seven, which leaves this one book and the one kept by Allar’s associate. Having heard Harley’s story, Allar’s almost certain that the Dwarves were working for the Illithids. The presence of a mutated raknid with biomantically-grafted Illithid telepathy suggests that they were at least involved somehow. Six out of eight of the books in the hands of the Mind Flayers. Allar doesn’t know how many someone would need to recreate the process. Tauster chooses this moment to inform them that he’s been magically examining the book this whole time. Some magic about it protects it from damage while on the surface. It was penned in the Land of No Sun, and it can only be destroyed there. That kills James’ plan, which was to just burn the book now. Just to be thorough, though, Tauster tries to destroy it with a [i]burning hands[/i], and at Bhurisrava’s encouragement Allar even tries slicing his magical scimitar through it. Afterward it is neither burnt not cut. It even resists an attempt to blot out the text. No new ink will be absorbed by its pages. Frustrated, Allar paces the house for a few minutes. Meanwhile Bhurisrava, Harley, and James discuss the new information, finally coming to the conclusion that while it sounds bad, they can’t really do anything to help. At that moment Allar turns back to them and shakes his head. “No, actually you might be some of the only people who can help. I need someone to keep watch here for suspicious happenings while I gather the others. I don’t want to try to destroy this thing until I have my other friends, and I’ll need them to track down whoever the Dwarves were so we can get the other books back.” (in game terms, I hadn’t planned a sufficient reason for the party to stay around and investigate, so I shot for the tried and true method of hiring them) Bhurisrava says he really has nothing to do with this. He was just passing through, and finds it all interesting, but not really worth him getting involved. James and Harley don’t really want to do it either, because they didn’t like one tiny raknid, so they definitely don’t want to deal with a whole army of mindwalkers. Nikal, who has been sitting quietly this whole time, yawns and says that he already has an employer. And with that they thank Allar for helping them out, thank Tauster for tea (and toast), get Tauster to sign that he did indeed receive the chest, and leave to spend the day sleeping in the town’s shabby inn. (the DM says to himself, oh crap, what now?) Allar says to himself, “Oh crap, what now? Who knows who they’ll tell?” Since they had been awake for an entire day, and had just arrived in Thurmaster right after dawn, Nikal, Bhurisrava, James, and Harley decide to sleep the day off. Slightly before noon James wakes Harley and Bhur, saying that he’s pretty sure the weather will turn bad by tonight. He wants to ditch Nikal just like he did to them, and Harley agrees that it’s fair justice. Bhurisrava, who had never really talked to Nikal much in the first place, agrees to go along with it since he wants to preach to them the word of the Lord. Also, they want to leave while Allar still expects them to be asleep. They take their horses (the ones Harlan gave them and the ones they stole from Milbourne) and get ready to ride out of the Haranshire. They briefly consider leaving the horses for Nikal to deal with while they go south through the Shreiken Mire, since it would be the faster route to Lyceum, but the innkeeper asks if they’ve heard about Inzeldrin, the green dragon that lives in the marsh. The party says no, thanks him for saving their lives, and decide to go west, back through Milbourne. They take the horses with them. As they travel, stormclouds crawl in from the south, and it looks like by nightfall there’ll be rain. They pass quickly through Milbourne at dusk, staying just long enough to pick up some of the minor stuff they left in the inn there (I tried to stall them by having the innkeeper say that Allar had told him to confiscate their gear, but they go get the stablemaster and have him tell the innkeeper that they brought back the horses, so the innkeeper finally relents). Deciding they don’t want to run into Allar by staying another night in Milbourne, they check the map Harley and James have and decide to head for the nearby town of Harlaton, only about another two hour’s travel south. They get there early in the night, just as it begins to rain. They discover that the town only has a population of about 30, that the inn doubles as a general store and blacksmith shop, and that there’s no place to stable their horses since no one in town owns a horse. They already dropped off the ‘stolen’ horses in Milbourne, and had left one of their employer’s horses for Nikal, leaving them with three. They tether their horses to a tree, and after Bhurisrava apologizes to them for having to leave them out in the rain, they buy a room at the inn. Still tired since they only got a few hours of sleep in the morning, and have been riding for nearly ten hours, both Harley and James immediately go to sleep. Bhurisrava stays up for a little while longer and talks to the innkeeper about the local churches, learning that a priest of Meliska operates a temple in Milbourne, that there’s a druid who lives in Thornwood, and that Lord Parlfray’s keep has a small shrine to Ondy Vegces, patron god of knights. The only prominent Christian in the area is a gnome named David, but he’s been off traveling for a few months. Bhurisrava retires for a little sleep, as does the innkeeper/shopkeeper/blacksmith. And they’re all awaked by the hideous sound of horses screaming. Not knowing how long they’ve been asleep, James, Harley, and Bhurisrava burst out into the torrential rain, weapons ready. James sprints past their horses, thinking he sees a dark figure scuttling away into the darkness. Bhurisrava, faster since he’s not armored, runs to the horses, kneeling near the bodies. They’ve all been killed, their heads looking like they’d been torn open from within. Long slashes gouge across the horses’ flanks and bodies. Blood mingles with the roaring rain, staining all of their gear that had been in the saddlebags. Whatever killed the horses ripped through the bags, scattering the contents across the ground. People have come out of their houses to see what’s going on, but in the pouring rain it’s hard to make anything out. Bhurisrava says a quick prayer for the horses, then stands and runs over to Harley and James. They’ve stopped in the tall grass behind the inn, looking at faint tracks in the mud, caused by what look like bare feet. The tracks head off in the direction James saw the dark form scuttle away. Harley at first doesn’t want to go, but James reminds her that the person who killed their horses just cost them several hundred gold pieces that they’ll have to pay back to Harlan. Since he tore through their bags, he seems to be looking for something, which means he might come after them next. James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her along, saying that it’s safest to deal with the person now while they have him on the run. Bhurisrava agrees, angered that anyone would so cruelly kill innocent animals. Through the thunderously loud storm, they follow the tracks toward the woods. The trail is easy to follow through the mud, but when they reach the woods the going becomes difficult. The forest is called the Thornwood because nearly every plant in it has spines or thorns, even the trees. The person they’re pursuing is taking no care to hide his trail, and branches are broken and bits of black cloth torn in an obvious trail heading deeper into the woods. Over the course of an hour, the rain slowly abates, and their urge to run after their target fades. The trail heads for higher ground, scaling slick muddy slopes far more easily than any of the group can. Harley suggests turning back, since they might be being led into a trap, but James calls her a coward and says they’ll keep going for one more mile before they turn back. Wet and tired, they press on through the drenched forest. It stops raining, but the clouds hang low and the entire forest is filled with a watery haze. Finally, just before they’re ready to turn back, they see the trail open into a wide grassy clearing. James curses, realizing that they must’ve fallen far behind their quarry, and though it was easy tracking him through broken branches that have thorns to snag cloth, it’ll be nearly impossible to follow him through grass. Harley rants at James for a few minutes while they rest to catch their breath, hoping another storm doesn’t roll in. Thunder rumbles distantly, and Bhurisrava grumbles about the horse-killer being a coward. Frustrated, he shouts loudly and angrily into the woods, “I know you’re out there, you bastard. You think you can kill our horses, huh? Big ‘death’ man, huh?! Well I’m calling you OUT! I’m calling out Death! Come on you pussy!” Through the din of the thunder emerges the sound of someone rushing through the forest toward them. They stand anxiously and ready their weapons, Harley chiding B-man for being loud enough to let everyone know where they were. From the opposite side of the clearing bursts Nikal, rushing toward them, clutching something to his chest. Bhurisrava scoffs, disappointed at the lack of Deaths, but the terror in Nikal’s eyes worries them. Nikal sees them and screams briefly, his voice piercing the night. He hesitates for a moment, seemingly afraid of the party, but then he shakes his head viciously and shouts for them to run. He himself begins to run, and James tries to catch him before he sprints past them, but suddenly James, Harley, and Bhur catch sight of a dim glow coming out of the woods from the same direction Nikal came. Nikal turns and looks, then falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain, dropping before him the thing he’d been carrying. Aside from Nikal’s pained whimpers, a hush falls over the group. A dark-clad figure, heavily hooded, emerges from the darkness of the opposite side of the clearing. It floats through the grass toward them, its thick black robes concealing its stride. A mist seems to flow behind it, blotting out the forest as a chill fog begins to roll toward them. It holds a small orb of waxy light that dimly illuminates the clearing. As it comes within 20 feet, they can see pale purple tentacles writhing from underneath it’s hood. From its right sleeve extends a similarly pale purple swordblade, looking like its made of flesh and bone. A stream of words and the emotion of urgency enters their minds, somehow detached from any real voice. [i]The book.[/i] The dark figure holds out its hand toward them, either in offering or as a demand. The ominous blade it holds seems to suggest the latter. Bhurisrava chuckles weakly. “Oh crap. I didn’t think Death would answer.” [/QUOTE]
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