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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Grumpy Celt" data-source="post: 246305" data-attributes="member: 1019">F.R. Short Story: Shadows at Sweetbones Tower  2/2 (Long)...to the middle of the cold mountain air. A mile above rocky ground. Widow-Maker’s roar turned into a kind of squealing noise. Griffons can fly but they are not lighter than air. Moving through the portal had surprised him. We began falling.The wind screamed in my ears and I squeezed my legs so tight it hurt. I buried my face in his feathers and held the reins tightly. Window-Maker was not catching himself and stopping the fall. I was holding the reins to my chest – where my heart hammered my ribs until it ached – so tightly he could not straighten his head. He could not stop our fall if he could not straighten his head. I made the leap of faith and loosened the reins. Widow-Maker’s wings snapped out with a great whoosh once he was able to move his head forwards and see. He beat his wings hard and our fall gradually stopped.He finally began limping forwards. I saw the sun and made a guess about which way to the east – which way to the tower. My pull on the reins seemed to remind Widow-Maker of my existence.He promptly tried to roll over.I dug in with my heels and snatched back on the reins. He did not like it. However, the fall had – pardon the pun – taken the wind out from under his wings. He tried it once more with the same result. I was by then having trouble holding on to the bridle – it was covered with sweat and blood and my hands were going numb. It hurt to breath. The blood from the gash on my hand was freezing where it had soaked my sleeve.The tower loomed up out of the fog all of a sudden. Widow-Maker and I nearly ran into the wall. I yanked him back and heard alarm gongs sounding – our proximity had set them off. Widow-Maker beating his wings hard we topped the wall to face a half-dozen archers. Their arrows were drawn and pointed at up.“Hold your fire!” I heard Sir Deathrage bellow. Widow-Maker needed little direction to land on the top of the tower. My griffon was breathing hard. So was I. Sir Deathrage shouldered through the archers.“What the hell are you about. You might have given us away,” he said. His voice grew from a growl to a roar.“You’ve already been given away, first marshal,” I gasp out. “Traehyr has thrown in with the attacking forces. He’s told them what you intend.”Sir Deathrage was taken aback by this revelation. He cursed and asked me to follow him down into the tower. The ropes were cut. I tried to get off the griffon but my legs gave out from under me. I fell and hit the floor of the tower-top hard.Several of the archers and the first marshal helped me up. Another pair took Widow-Maker by the halter and led him to the entrance to the towers small aviary. Sir Deathrage helped me down the stairs. When we were halfway down the stairs I was able to limp mostly on my own but could not put any weight on my swollen ankle.Once in the tower Sir Deathrage asked me what happened. He seemed non-pulsed by the arrival of the note. I asked him about it and he said he would tell me later.“With respect, sir, you seem to be taking this betrayal very well,” I said.“Well, before I’m through with Traehyr I’ll be dancing in his bones and drinking ale out of his skull, but aside from that, yes I think I’m handling this rather well,” Sir Deathrage said so casually it was unsettling. He went on. “Good people are going to die because of Traehyr’s greed. However, the situation is salvageable.” He looked at me with some respect. “Well, it is salvageable because of you flew here and warned us.”He turned to face Fifth Marshal Cefrey. “Go and sound the horn so Second Marshals Stonar and Hornraven assemble their fliers atop of the tower immediately. I will debrief them on what we are going to do.”The young woman saluted the First Marshall before turning and quickly crossing over to sound a horn and then ran upstairs.“We are going to need to use the field.” He said simply. Sir Deathrage seemed to be thinking out-loud. “Go to the shrine below and tell the clerics that the word is, in fact, given.” He smiled at me warmly. “You did good bringing me the message. You no doubt saved our lives. I will not forget this. That was a hell of a thing, riding a green-broke griffon stallion. A hell of a thing.” He sounded honestly impressed as he loped up the stairs.I limped down stairs and told the clerics the news. Priest Maelok – a follower of Mystra Lady of Magic – again made no secret of the fact he did not like the field and took its existence as a personal affront. Once he had vented his spleen he did say that he would move the field to the location the first marshal had specified.That done I grabbed a heavy cloak from a wardrobe and I went back to the top of the tower.Sir Deathrage was finishing debriefing the riders as I got there. None of them appeared happy about the news. Several looked at me with plainly flabbergasted expressions.I told the first marshal that Maelok had agreed to move the field. He nodded to me. Sir Deathrage then gave the signal for the riders to move out. It is thrilling to see a flight of griffon cavalry take flight.Sir Deathrage had them move into the clouds directly over the tower. I could hear chants of the clerics Mystra rolling up from below.Wooden panels lower on the towers sides opened so the ballista operators could get clear shots when the time came.I watched as our foes descended out of the clouds like a waterfall. They swarmed around each other. There were shadowy forms in the center of the enemy’s formation. The dark force swung up gracefully out of their fall and began heading towards the tower. As they came closer I began to see there were several indistinct shadowy forms along probably a two-dozen perytons and 18 or so pteranodons.I watched them flying closer and closer. Suddenly, our griffon riders dropped out of the clouds behind them. The battle began.The chanting from below began to pick up in pace and volume. Griffon riders launched arrows at perytons or fired off lightening bolts at pteranodons. I saw two riders unseated but did not watch them as they fell to their deaths. A dark fireball from one of the shadowy figures immolated another griffon and its rider. Fortunately, the perytons and pteranodons were dying. Unfortunately, they were not dying quickly enough. They seemed to be enjoying the benefit of Traehyr’s scrolls of magical protection.There were thrum-sounds from below and ballista bolts shot from the side of the tower. One impaled a pteranodon and the chains it was trailing snagged a peryton and drug it away and down.The enemy forces were closing on the tower. Our archers were in place. The enemy was almost in range. Another thrum sounded and a third ballista flew from the tower. The bolt itself missed any target. However, the chains snagged a pair of perytons.I watched as Sir Deathrage was in close battle with one of the shadowy figures. It made me feel good to see him kill it. The shadows melted away – revealing a man – as it fell to the ground. The archers loosed four volleys of arrows at an approaching flight of perytons and pteranodons. A large number went down. However, far too many got through and began working at the arches like a man harvesting grain. I saw the archers commander go down under an attacking peryton. I called out “retreat” as no one else was standing and able to do so. The archers began rushing down the stairs while fighters attacked the monsters.I made it down stairs as two things happened. First, two of the humanoid figures followed a soot-black fireball that breached the ballista opening and killed the machine’s operators. The operators had not been able to fire another shot. One of the dark figures was tall and imposing. Shadows slithered around its body like water over rocks in river rapids. The smaller form was merely dark and blurry. The smaller blurred figure drew a wand from the vicinity of its waist while the shadowy figure began casting a spell. Secondly, the chanting from below reached a crescendo. The archers shot at them. The arrows missed or vanished into the darkness on the figures. Lightening bolts snarled away from the two and scattered the archers and myself. Unless you have been hit by lightening before you have no idea of the surreal pain it causes. The effect knocked us around the room. It was as if someone kicked a pile of apples. Men and women hit the walls with a sound that was wet and final.I rose from the floor onto all fours. The smaller figures stalked forwards and kicked me in the face. A spay of blood and teeth went out of my mouth. The force of the blow flipped me over backwards. It kicked me again in the ribs and I felt several break. It hurt to breath – the pain was on my right side. The larger figure blasted away at the archers again. The smaller stomped on my left hand and twisted its ankle. I did not cry out. Ever. I think my silence was angering the smallest figure. “Enough. Have your revenge later,” said the shadowy figure.The smaller figure hurried to the side of the larger. They were standing next to the ballista. “Come with me below,” the large figure said, talking to the smaller figure. “We’re going to kill the clerics.”Just then the chanting stopped.The clerics had finished moving the field from the roots of the tower to the top of the tower.All magical effects in the tower and for a distance around the tower top winked out. Just like that. The blurring of the smaller figure snuffed out like a candle flame. The shadows never left the larger figure.The smaller figure was Tradelord Sot Traehyr. Both stood in surprised silence. I took advantage of the situation by grabbing the handle to fire the ballista with my good hand and pulled. The thing stuck. I yanked again so hard I felt something in my chest on my right side tear.There was a thrum again. Traehyr looked down to see himself standing in the coiled chains. The ballista then shot out into the sky. Sot jumped out of the chains but they whipped as they went and struck him in the chest. Arms flailing Traehyr fell out the window. He only just caught himself on the edge of the opening. The largest figure was just backing up into a corner. I lurched to my feet and – coughing up blood – limped over to Traehyr.“Help me, please.” He begged me. The tradelord was clinging to the side of the tower desperately.Because I was too weak to kick him in the face I stomped on his hand. He screamed all the way down. I looked out the window. The enemy no longer enjoyed any magical protections. The tide had decisively turned in favor of the griffon cavalry. My vision swam and dark spots appeared as Sir Deathrage flew to ballista opening. In spite of the pain I picked up a sword.I turned around to face the largest figure. It was cowering in a corner. Without the odds being stacked heavily in its favor it turned into a coward.“Your side lost the battle. Surrender and live. Fight and die.” I managed.“I yield,” it promptly held its hands above its head.The first marshal leapt from his griffon into the opening just as I collapsed and the darkness began closing. I saw him leaning over me. My last thought was about the vulgar little man in the court earlier that day. I hoped he would not steal my body to use as a party favor.* * *“I hadn’t expected the shade mages to attack us so openly and so directly.” The High Speaker said.“I thought the same thing myself. This group might be renegades from their city. On the other hand, they might be worshipers of Dark Goddess Shar who hoped to frame the shadar and force their hand. I won’t know until we have a chance to interrogate our prisoner,” Sir Deathrage said. “I think they are just called the shades, not the shadar,” she said, nodding.Well feed and comfortable I sat at the table. The clerics had healed me good and proper. They said I would have died from my injuries if they had not.The seven griffon riders who died had not been as lucky. However, none of our enemies escaped alive. They had died at our hands or been taken captive. We even had what appeared to be a shadar, err, shade captive. The body of Traehyr the traitor – I like the sound of that – has yet to be found. “So, how many people do you think are on to our secret?” she asked.“Which one,” Sir Deathrage asked. He had won the battle and was feeling up beat. “The secret of why our apple brandy is always the best in the region? The secret of why everyone in the Silver Marches is so good at what they do?”“The secret of the floating dead-magic magic zone you move around,” she said. It sounded like her exasperation was half feigned.“Oh, that secret.” He was quite a moment. “It was not useful against the shadow magic – valuable information that – but it was still be a potent defense against traditional magic. I do not think word got out directly. None of our foes that could have recognized it escaped. Be that as it may, anyone studying the battle – and you can be certain that there are mages in Luskan and Waterdeep studying it right now – will realize what happened.” He shrugged. “Sooner or later someone was bound to figure it out in any event. Now, because of Traehyr’s betrayal, we just had to show our hand a year or so early. An inconvenience but not a catastrophe. Besides, having our enemies know about the field – and that we can move and position it – can have its own uses as a deterrent.” He turned to her and gave her a slightly sour look. “But you knew all that already, didn’t you?”“More or less,” she said. “I just wanted to make certain we were thinking along similar lines.” As if she were repressing a smile the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. “And, no, you may not dance in Traehyr’s bones nor drink ale from his skull. We’ve perfectly good goblets.” She said the last sounding a little coy.“Spoil sport,” he said. The two of them seemed to have fallen back into their habit of politely flirting with the crisis over.“And the note?”“The Red Wizards,” he said. “They are still trying to get on my good side. They know I’m hard set against letting them establish one of their enclaves in the Marches. So, they are trying to get on my good side. They likely told Traehyr about the invaders in the first place and probably teleported him out to meet the – ahem – shades. I know he bought the pteranodons from them. Little notes are not going to do them any good.” He stood. “With your permission, we have a prisoner to interrogate.”She nodded and we exited.We were walking through the halls in the southern-most dungeons several minuets later. The guards granted us permission to pass through security checkpoints. We stopped for a moment. He turned to me. “Why don’t you handle this, after all, he’s your catch. I’ll be right out here, with the guards, if you need us.”I entered the cell. It walls, floor and ceiling all issued a soft, white glow. At one end of a table sat a deeply unhappy looking young man. He was barefoot, wore gloves and a prisoner’s uniform. All this was designed to inhibit his ability to use shadow magic.“Hello,” I said. I pulled out a chair and sat down across from the captured shade. “I came to talk.”</blockquote>

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