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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7420358" data-attributes="member: 143">That's one of the titles of this book!We begin by revisiting an old friend...* * * Book 8: DON’T SPLIT THE PARTY! or THE SHATTERED KEYChapter 160It took Kurok the better part of a month to get back to where he had started.For a time, he wasn’t sure he would make it back at all.  The wound in his back became infected, and he spent a week in a cave with a high fever, tormented by vicious dreams and subsisting on bugs and lichens.It was a different man who returned to the valley where Murgoth’s staging camp had been situated.  In place of the powerful, confident warlock that had cowed a dragon was a gaunt, furtive figure, engulfed in the now too-large drape of his cloak that he clutched tight with thin and trembling fingers.  But the fire still burned in his eyes, and if it took more time to scramble over the uneven rocks that rimmed the valley, he did not falter.He did finally pause when he gained a crest that gave him a view of the site of the camp.  The valley was mostly empty now, though the debris and detritus of an army that no longer existed remained.  A few scavengers were visible here and there, but none of them paid him any attention.Kurok’s focus was on the one remaining structure, the black tent that still stood atop the rise on the far side of the valley.  The standard that had once fluttered atop it was gone, and there was no sign of any activity in or around the tent.  But after a moment Kurok started in that direction, moving carefully down the sharp descent to the valley floor.A few birds scattered at his approach, only to return once he was gone.  Kurok tried not to pay too much attention to what they were feasting on.  In addition to the heaps of trash and broken gear there were signs of hastily-dug graves throughout the site.  He could imagine the scene when the remnants of Murgoth’s defeated army had returned here on their way back to the clanholds deep in the mountains, beyond the vengeful reach of the Arreshian king.  The warlock had encountered a few of those fugitives on his long journey back, and they had given him a somewhat fragmented account of all that he had missed.  As it happened the side-mission that Zorek had given him might have saved his life, as very few of the Blooded that had accompanied Murgoth had survived the warlord’s crushing defeat at the hands of the human armies.  A few of the survivors had cautiously inquired about his plans; apparently the end of Murgoth had already begun a process of resorting as the surviving clan leaders jockeyed for power.  Fighting over the crumbs, Kurok thought.  He had no interest in getting involved in those squabbles, and in each case the fugitives he’d encounter had let him be, continuing on their flight back to their homes.The warlock continued his slow trek across the valley floor.  This time there were no marching formations or old memories to stand in his way.  He still was not quite sure why he had returned.  He was somehow not surprised to find the tent still standing, but he doubted that Zorek would have any answers for him.  He could still feel his power, burning in his very blood.  Was that why he had come, to extract revenge from those who had sent him away to die?  He did not know himself.A few mangy dogs scattered as he neared the far side of the valley.  He must have looked like a tempting morsel to them, slow and weak as he was, but perhaps they could sense the wrongness that radiated from him, for they gave him a wide berth before returning to their scavenging.  At one point he spotted a solitary goblin digging through a pile of trash with a pointed stick.  The pathetic creature gave him a look of challenge as he passed.  Kurok ignored him and kept on.Climbing the far slope took three times as long as the descent.  When he finally gained the shelf where the tent stood Kurok paused to catch his breath.  The front of the tent stood open, the loose flaps fluttering in the wind.  It looked like the interior had been cleaned out, or at least there wasn’t anything to see from his current vantage.  Resisting the urge to conjure the Armor of Agathys, the warlock made his way inside.The interior was dark but held no secrets to Kurok’s eyes.  He made his way to the partition that separated off the back part of the tent.  His hand lingered as he reached out and took hold of the heavy fabric.  It took him another moment to find the seam, his heart pounding his chest.  He did not know what he would find behind that curtain, but he had an instinct that it was important.When he finally pulled the divider aside, he saw something that he had not expected.It looked like Zorek had been there for quite some time.  The aged hobgoblin lay sprawled in his chair, his arms and legs spread wide.  His face was frozen in an expression that might have been surprise, or pain, it was hard to tell with his skin drawn taut over his skull.  Strangely there was no scent of rot.  It looked as though the body had become desiccated somehow, almost like the way some of the southern cultures preserved their dead before sealing them in buried tombs.“His heart failed,” a voice said from behind him.Kurok spun and nearly stumbled as his leg got caught in the curtain.  He had not heard anyone approaching, and usually his instincts were strong in that area.  Perhaps his physical decline had also been accompanied by a hazing of his senses.A man was standing in the outer entry of the tent.  He looked to be a human, finely if not extravagantly dressed, with a broad cape of heavy linen embroidered with golden thread.  The cape did not ruffle in the wind, which gave Kurok his first clue as to who this was, if his odd appearance was not sufficient.  Even so the warlock was slow to lower his hand, and even slower to release the stored energies of the eldritch blast that he had reflexively summoned.The human smirked as if he recognized exactly what Kurok had almost done.  “It took you long enough to get here,” he said.“I was not sure I would come back,” Kurok said.“Where else would you go?” the other asked.  He came into the tent and seated himself in a chair just to the right of the entry.  Kurok was certain that the chair had not been there before, but he let that go.“Your chosen appearance, as always, is unusual,” Kurok said.“And as always, it has significance,” the other said.  But this time he let it be, rather than shifting to a form more reassuring to his guest.“I would not mind if we skipped the preliminary banter this time,” Kurok said.  “It has been a long month.”“I can see.  Do not be nervous; I have not planned any punishment for you, even though your mission was a failure.”“It is a miracle that I am even alive,” Kurok said.  “You neglected to note that there would be other Blooded working against me.”The other shrugged expressively and spread his hands as if to state that such things were of no consequence.  “You survived, and thus remain useful.”“It seems that you have few of your pawns left to you.”“Ah, you play chess?  We shall have to have a game sometime.  You are correct in the short term, but remember that you cannot see the entire board.  My masters are playing a long game, and the defeat of Murgoth, while unfortunate, was not unexpected.”“So, the slaughter of several clans was just the necessary sacrifice of a piece that had gotten out of position on the board.”The other chuckled, though something sharpened in his eyes.  “Do not pretend that you care one fig for the fate of your people,” he said.  “And remember that you too are a piece, though an important one, at the moment.”“And if I grow weary of the game?”“You can always rejoin your kin, if that is your wish.  But remember, Kurok, where your power comes from.  Those who give, can also take away.  But with all your many friends among the clans, I am sure you would be fine either way.”“Just tell me what you want.”“I understand that you speak the Common tongue quite fluently.”There was a time when Kurok might have been caught off-guard by the non-sequitur, but he was getting used to verbal fencing with this adversary.  “It was required that all of us learn to speak the human tongue,” he said.“But even in this, you were more than adequate,” the caped man said.  “Our late friend Zorek frequently spoke your praises.”“What killed him?” Kurok asked.“His heart seized.  I believe it was the strain of bringing me across this last time.”“Your grief warms my heart,” Kurok said.The other smiled.  “Tell me, were you really going to kill him?”“I don’t know,” Kurok said.  That much, at least, was true.  He stepped forward into the room, if only to keep from having the entangling folds of the curtain at his back.  There was no second chair, but he doubted he would have felt comfortable enough to sit in any case.  “So, you need me to speak Common, wherever it is you are sending me.”“Yes.  The focus of the game has moved to the south.”“I may speak the language, but I doubt that I would fit in easily in the human lands,” Kurok said dryly.  He drew back his cowl to fully reveal his face.  His visage had been altered with the changes from his recent ordeal, his skin hanging loose around his jowls and neck and his eyes buried in sunken hollows.  But there was no mistaking the deep reddish tint to his skin or the other distinctive features of his hobgoblin heritage.“Still you doubt me,” the other said.  He rose suddenly and stepped toward Kurok.  The warlock drew back a step, his hands coming up again in reflex.“Your wariness is wise, but we have come to a time of decision,” the caped man said.  “Stay or go, but if you go now, then there is no coming back.”Kurok hesitated, long enough that the other’s light expression faded into impatience.  But as he opened his mouth to speak the warlock abruptly stepped forward.“Good,” the caped man said, and without further delay he reached up and seized hold of Kurok’s skull with both of his hands.Kurok has experienced the visitor’s touch before, but this time the connection was different.  It still felt as though someone was tearing him apart from inside, but there was something else, a sensation like insects crawling around inside his skull.  When the contact was broken, after what felt like minutes but could have only been a heartbeat or two, he could still feel the echoes of whatever had been done to him.“What…” he managed to cough out.“The Mask of Many Faces will prove useful where you are going,” the other said.  “You will have a chance to practice, but first, I have something else for you.  A companion for your journey.”“Companion?” Kurok asked, again instantly wary.“A boon friend, to watch your back and guide you through troubled times,” the other said.  As Kurok’s expression deepened into obvious mistrust he laughed and clapped his hands.The warlock’s eyes darted to the entrance of the tent, but the shifting form materialized out of the shadows behind the caped figure.  Kurok’s enhanced vision had not seen him, and again he would have sworn that the space had been empty just a moment earlier, but he knew better than to betray any unease.  That was difficult to do when the new arrival stepped forward into the light that spilled in from outside.The thing was hideous.  Its hide was a dusky gray, the color of old ashes.  Its body was lean and muscled, but it was its head that drew instinctive attention, an oversized, bulbous orb without any hair covering its surface.  Its features were thin and vague, as if a sculptor had started to fashion a man’s face but had lost interest halfway through.  Its eyes were striking, dull red orbs without lids that fixed on Kurok intently.“This is Drekkath,” the caped man said.  “Show him.”Kurok, still caught off guard by the creature’s terrible appearance, at first thought that the command was meant for him.  But the creature began to shift, its body altering in form.  It wasn’t like the smoother transformations wrought by the caped man; Kurok could see bones and muscles reforming under the creature’s hide as it changed form.“You’re a changeling,” he said.  “A doppleganger.”The creature’s mouth spread into a smile even as his facial features began to take on definition.  His skin formed into clothes, which took on color as it assumed the texture of the fabric.It could not have taken more than a few seconds altogether, and when it was over Kurok faced a mirror image of himself.  It was somewhat startling to see how much his physical aspect had suffered over the last month.  He felt a gentle pressure upon his awareness, a brief caress that he might not have noticed if he hadn’t been on his guard.“My name is Kurok,” the creature said, his lips twisted into a mocking smile.  “I’ve been given power that places me far above my race, yet I am tormented with doubts and questions.”“That’s enough,” the caped man said.  Drekkath held Kurok’s gaze for a moment longer, then turned and offered a slight bow to the other.  He reached under the cape and drew out a compact leather satchel that he offered to the doppleganger.  “This contains everything that you will need.  Identity papers, documents, maps, and enough coin to accomplish what you need to do.”“And what is that, exactly?” Kurok asked.“For now, travel south into Arresh.  The maps will guide you, and there is a list of contacts who will have more information.  Needless to say, that documents should be memorized and then destroyed before you leave the mountains.”“I generally prefer to work alone,” Drekkath said.“We don’t always get what we want,” the caped man said.“I will work with you if I must,” Kurok said, stepping forward to confront his mirror image.  “But listen to me, and hear my words, creature.  Intrude upon my mind again, just once, and I will burn you out from within.”Drekkath’s mouth spread into an impossibly wide smile, his jaw filling with row upon row of pointed teeth.“Wonderful,” the caped man said.  “So, we all understand each other.  Let me add one thing.  While you have been off the board, the other pieces have been moving.  But the end game is fast approaching.  We are coming to a time when a great prize will be within our grasp.  You are only part of the forces that are being marshalled to seize control of the coming moment.  But know this.  Succeed, and the rewards that will come to you will be beyond anything that you might have imagined.  Fail… well, perhaps you already know that death is not the worst that can happen, and that it will not in any way be an escape from the oaths you have sworn.”</blockquote>

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