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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rybaer" data-source="post: 278171" data-attributes="member: 118">Session #12.13 - Give Him a Hand "Now," Mr. North said, "I have told you who I am.  Would you kindly return the favor?" "Nigel," Nigel said.  "That's Amblin and Zalman."  Neither the monk nor the wizard felt inclined to contribute to the conversation. "And your other companion?" the Mage said, indicating Bommer's crumpled body. "Bommer," Nigel said, giving the fallen halfling a regretful look.  Things were slowing down just enough now for the horrors of the encounter with the giant to register with him. "My condolences," the Mage said.  "I can't imagine the dragon killed him, though, or I wouldn't expect to see this much left." "No," Nigel said.  "There are other things down there too.  The dragon came just after we finished a bad fight." "Did you lose any other companions, or is this all of you?" "One other," Nigel said.  "We couldn't bring him back, though."  Both Zalman and Amblin felt Nigel was being far too free with information, but neither was willing to interrupt.  As long as they could get out of here quickly and alive, little else seemed to matter at this point. While Nigel chatted away with the scholarly Mage, telling him many of the details of their encounters, Amblin studied the others in the room.  The warrior in the demonic-looking armor was likely the wizard's muscle and bodyguard.  The man behind the horned mask had not uttered a word, but his posture spoke volumes for his competence.  The older man had proclaimed himself a cleric of St. Cuthbert.  Amblin didn't know religion real well, but was pretty sure that St. Cuthbert was generally regarded as okay.  The boy was probably an attendant or acolyte.  Interesting company for a scholar, Amblin thought, even if he was a wizard. Zalman, meanwhile, had pulled out a spell book and was busy studying, furiously refusing to acknowledge the rest of the world.  The loss of Rurik, combined with all his own near-death and actual death experiences of the last few months, had hit him hard. Once the Mage had extracted all the information Nigel seemed willing or able to share, he rose and started to pace.  "Hmmm," he said. "This Kladish isn't entirely what I'd expected it to be.  A dragon, indeed?" "Pungab," the Mage said to his armored companion, "a moment if you will?"  The pair left the room and walked down the hall a short distance.  Amblin and Nigel could hear hushed conversation, but not the words.  The two clerics, meanwhile, had settled themselves against the far wall.  They seemed very much out of place and almost as eager to leave as the companions were. Both Amblin and Nigel, used to being around Zalman and his spell casting, immediately recognized the change in the Mage's voice from hushed conversation to confident incantation.  Amblin leapt from his chair and moved to look down the hall.  Nigel instinctively drew his flaming longsword.  Neither had a chance of reacting quickly enough to what happened next, for the Mage of Many Colors literally caused time to stop - if only briefly. Nigel had just turned to his right to look down the hallway for the Mage.  He spotted only the bodyguard, however.  Voice to his left prompted him to turn back and he was stunned to see the half-elf already over there, casting another spell.  Nigel's instincts warned him that it was directed at him. When he tried to move, his instincts were proven correct - his body was immobilized.  Fury exploded within him, but he lacked the ability to vent it. The Mage and his bodyguard both approached the frozen elf while the two clerics rose from the floor, looks of concern on their faces.  "I'm really sorry about all the inconvenience," the Mage said to Nigel.  "I have nothing against any of you, aside from a few hassles you've created.  I really should thank you.  After all, you've found what I couldn't in several years of looking." The Mage was standing right next to Nigel now.  Though he couldn't see it, Nigel could tell the mage was rummaging through his packs.  A few moments later, the Mage stepped back and held his find aloft - Rurik's severed hand. "I should never have doubted you, Pungab," the Mage said.  "Just as you guessed."  He slipped the hand into a small sack that he produced from his robes. "Truly, Mister Nigel," the Mage said, "I hold no ill will toward you.  Just have to attend to some business."  With that he swept out of the room, indicating for the clerics and his bodyguard to follow. Nigel was ready to explode in rage.  What was worse, he couldn't see Amblin or Zalman behind him.  He could only hope that the spell would wear off soon. Then things got worse, much worse.  Three feet in front of him, the Shadow revealed himself from out of invisibility.  The dark elf had been a thorn in their side and had nearly killed him outside High Hill's inn several weeks earlier.  He was dressed in black leathers with a rapier and short sword tucked in their sheaths. Up close, Nigel was repulsed by how elvish the Shadow looked.  The utter contempt in the Shadow's eyes made all the difference between the races clear, though. In a smooth, soft voice, the Shadow addressed Nigel while he started to walk around the immobile archer.  "I was amazed when I heard that you'd survived our last encounter.  For as much hassle as you and your friends have caused me, you still managed to deny me that small satisfaction from the whole mess." The Shadow was behind Nigel now. He couldn't see what he was doing, but it sounded like the dark elf was digging through his bags.  When the Shadow returned to where Nigel could see, it was clear he had purloined some choice belongings from Nigel.  Shadow tossed a couple of these, including the magical quiver, on a nearby table.  The dark elf then tried to pry the flaming longsword from Nigel's frozen grip. Nigel got a moment's satisfaction at the Shadow’s frustration, but it was short lived.  The Shadow drew out a large hunting knife and casually sliced Nigel’s entire hand off.  As blood flowed freely down Nigel’s arm, the dark elf pried the hand from the sword’s grip, removed the sheath from Nigel’s hip, and then strapped his new treasure about his own waist.  The Shadow collected the rest of his loot from the table, blew Nigel a sarcastic kiss goodbye, and left the room.Half a minute later, the spell holding Nigel in place wore off.  With the massive blood loss he’d already suffered, he collapsed instantly.  Rolling his head to one side, he was able to finally get a look behind him at Amblin and Zalman.  Where each had been a minute earlier, a large, perfectly reflective, and perfectly spherical ball remained.  As consciousness slipped away, Nigel realized that these were identical to the stasis bubble that had entrapped the powerful wizard Shadykin – a spell cast by Gills Dralon, one of the members of the Black Hand.The only other thought that briefly flittered through Nigel’s mind before he passed out was how odd and fortunate it was that the vermin hadn’t taken his new bow Star Slayer. Next session:  The Quest and its twist...</blockquote>

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