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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ghostknight" data-source="post: 3419141" data-attributes="member: 15338">The dwarves of Fort Livian crowded outside of the palace.  Traditional dress of large flowing robes, belted at the waist with cords of golden braid, graced many of the bearded men.  Just as many of the young, with their faces shaven and sporting tunics and trousers in imitation of human fashion, stood waiting.  All awaited the same thing, the glimpse of a fiendish ambassador that had been accepted by their king and was to live amongst them. A hush fell over the assembled crowd, anticipation mixed with disbelief.  They watched as the doors of the keep swung open, and the fiend and the strange women emerged, flanked by a squad of the royal guard.  The massed dwarves stared at the fiend, its figure covered by a simple robe, its compound eyes large black orbs that stared out at them, red skin highlighted by the white of its fangs.  A murmur began within the mob, the noise swelling as the group advanced down the path, heading towards the gate to the city beyond. "Do you think they'll riot?"  Eria's voice was soft, intended only for the ears of Sister Egrit and the corporal leading the squad.  Eria did not look concerned, in truth, he did not feel threatened by the mob, but it would be a major setback for their fledgling alliance if he killed a hostile crowd of dwarves, even in self-defence. The corporal looked at Eria, then at the crowd, their growing agitation and the rumblings of dissent within.  He held up his hand, bringing the guards to a halt.  The six members of the squad came forward, their black and grey tunics concealing the mail beneath, but the massive war axes upon their backs, and the smaller hand axes upon their belts clearly visible.  They started forward, headed towards the crowd and stopped just before them.  The corporal stepped forward, scanning the crowd, catching the eyes of the bearded and clean-shaven both. "Are we going to have trouble?  I call on you to welcome guests to our city.  Sister Egrit, representative of the Tower Arcane, and Eria, Ambassador from the court of the Lord of the Eighth Circle in Hell."  He stepped back and indicated to the squad to form into two lines, an honour guard for the visitors.  They did so, and the crowd that had fallen silent shuffled, they, too, forming a set of parallel lines.  The corporal came to Sister Egrit and Eria, nodded and moved forward.  The two followed him, through the squad and the now silent crowd.  As they moved through, the crowd closed behind them, a silent hoard that followed behind, all the way to the two-storey house in which they were to live. The inside of the house was richly decorated.  Thick white plush carpets covered the lower level with massive crystal chandeliers, hundreds of candles within, lit the entrance hall and massive lounge and dining room that led off from it.  A staircase, the stairs of marble with balustrades that were made of fantastically moulded brass and pewter, led up to where they assumed the bedrooms would be.  Three dwarves, two men and a woman, stood at attention within, all wearing the same black and grey uniform with a sash of blue and silver.One of the dwarves stepped forward.  He sported an impressive beard of silver hair, neatly braided into seven strands, each tied back with its own ribbon of black silk.  He bowed low, mainly to Sister Egrit, but also to Eria. "Greetings and welcome to the Embassy of the Arcane Tower, Honoured Magister.  It is not often we have the honour of the presence of one such as yourself.  Our welcome to you, too, Lord Eria.  It is our understanding that you shall reside with us whenever you find yourself within our fair city, at least until such time as your Master establishes an embassy of his own.  I am Rumal, the major domo and butler here.  These other two are Gire, the stable master, carpenter and assistant to Kithrin, cook and mistress of all those who serve within.  Please feel free to let us know what are your desires and we shall endeavour to provide you with whatever we can." Rumal finished speaking, and Gire and Kitrine bowed to the two.  "If you would grace me with your presence Magister, your lordship, I shall show you to your rooms now."  Gires voice was clear, but sounded like he was ill, speaking through his nose, and uncomfortabye.  He came forward, leading them up the stairs, panting and wheezing as he did so, occasionally stopping to cough.  "My apologies, I can't seem to shake this fiendish illness.  With apologies for my turn of phrase, your Grace."  Gire arrived at the first set of double doors and stepped forward, throwing them open to reveal a private sitting room with two doors that led off further into the suite.  Aside from the doors, the room had three massive couches arranged around a fireplace, a centre table piled with books and a small silver bell in the centre.  Pictures of mages and magisters of the past lined the walls, along with shelves of books.   "Through the door on the right is a water closet, complete with bath and automatic chamber pot."  He glanced at Eria.  "You do know how the automatic chamber pot works, don't you, your Grace?  Far better than needing buckets cleaned out, but not many have seen one before." Eria laughed.  "I do indeed, and I am sure that my colleague does too.  I assume the bedroom lies through the other door?" "Indeed it does, your Grace.  I did not believe that you required its amenities though." "Require?  Indeed I do not, though at times it is refreshing to allow oneself the oblivion of sleep." Irritated with what she saw, Sister Egrit spoke up.  "And for me? Or are you expecting me to share a bed with the fiend?" A look of shock passed over Gire's face.  "Indeed not, Magister.  We have a room reserved for visiting Magisters.  Please, follow me and I will show you to it.  Your Grace, if you require anything, just ring the bell on the side table and a servant will be sent up to you." Sister Egrit followed Gire out and down the corridor to a massive set of double doors.  The suite within was far more lavish than the one in which the ambassador was housed.  In addition to the couches and table, it sported roof high bookshelves, and lecterns with massive, illuminated volumes proudly displayed.  Sister Egrit wandered in, idly reading the titles of the books from their embossed spines, startled at the rarity of some of the tomes. "As a visiting Magister, we would be honoured if you made use of these books.  You will also find a wide range of alchemical ingredients in the cupboard in the bedroom."  Gire bowed.  "It is too seldom that we have any of power within these walls.  We truly are honoured to have you amongst us, and to have the chance to serve.  I repeat, anything I may do for you, just let me know. *** Dinner that night was sumptuous.  Pate's and various spreads started off the banquet, followed by soups, salads, roast cave beast, vegetables, duck, and then desserts which featured everything from chocolates, to fruit, to puddings made of every conceivable fruit and an astounding variety of confectionaries.  They did not dine alone; D'Fir and D'Wiglo came to join them. "I apologise for not sharing lodgings with you.  Now that I am back home I have to resume my royal duties, and those include leading the city militia and much of our standing army."  D'Fir spoke between mouthfuls, enjoying the banquet and the fine drinks set before them. Eria leaned forward to pour himself wine, but found the bottle empty.  Smiling, he picked up the small bell and rung it, expecting one of the servants to enter form the kitchen beyond the dining hall.  The tinkling of the bell died down, and the silence that followed felt uncanny, uncomfortable.  The four looked at each other, D'Fir and D'Wiglo moved in concert to retrieve their axes, and to stand to cover the entrances, at an angle to each other, prepared to both attack and defend.  All four participants at the meal were on their feet, Sister Egrit and Eria moved to put their backs to the wall, the better to be able to defend themselves. Sister Egrit's traced a finger through her scars and a snake-like creature, made of glowing green light formed in the air.  Silently she sent it out, watching as it moved around, investigating every nook and cranny of the room.  It moved silently, crawling over all the surfaces, including the feet of the dwarves, but avoided the presence of Eria.  The eyes of Sister Egrit followed it, but the rest, battle hardened and disciplined, watched for other movement, other signs of trouble that may appear before them. The snake returned to Sister Egrit, falling dormant as it returned to her arm.  The silence from within the house continued.  D'Wiglo took a step forward, breaking contact with his brother as he tried to see into the entrance hall.  As he did so there was a slight movement of air, and then a fiend appeared behind him, its sharp claw punching out,  through armour, skin and bone, coming through the other side, spraying the area with his blood, pushing his bones through the front of his armour.  It tried to withdraw its hand as the body slumped, but even in his shock at his brother's death. D'fir was too fast, his body spinning, the axe in his hand, the cold iron within its head, with the silver runes lighting and glowing blue as they swung at the fiend, their magic coming alive.  The axe bit into the fiends arm, severing it at the elbow, leaving its hand embedded within the chest of D'Wiglo. Sister Egrit reacted almost as quickly, her chanted words sending an arc of green out, engulfing the body of D'Wiglo.  As fast as she had been to send the healing energy of the void out, it was too late.  No life was left within the body for it to work upon.  Eria merely looked at the fiend, whose eyes widened when it saw him; fear entered its face, as it watched two beams of pure blackness shoot out from Eria's eyes.  The beams came close to D'Fir, who felt their icy coldness as they went past, but their effect on the fiend was dramatic.  They hit it solidly in the chest, tendrils of the black energy crawled over its body, constricting the skin and bone beneath from its icy numbness, rivulets of blood and gore leaking out as unaffected areas remained and the affected areas rotted away, falling off.  In seconds the devils body was riddled with streams of the energy, searing it away, large sections of it dropping off, rotten and exuding the foul odour of the charnel pit. The three stood in shock for a moment, before D'Fir dropped to his knees by his brother's side.  Gently he pulled the devil's claw from within his chest, pulling a cushion from a nearby chair on which to lay his head.  His eyes were bleak when he looked up, tears streaming down, into his beard, onto the face of his brother. "I shed tears for the brave.  I shed tears for the strong.  Let the warriors grieve today as one of their own is called home to the Forge Father.  May D'Wiglo stand at the side of the mighty for eternity, until the Forge Father tempers his soul to be returned to stand by our side."  He stood, making no attempt to wipe his tears away, to hide his sorrow.  Such would demean the death of the warrior! "I go to my father, to tell him of what has happened.  We must find out how that devil gained entrance and made its way into this chamber.  I beg of you two to search this residence and find what has happened to those who served loyally."  He did not wait of an answer, leaving his axe lying on the ground, but taking the severed hand.  His walk was unsteady as he left, his shoulders bent and his head bowed. Sister Egrit did not wait for action from Eria, she moved quickly through to the kitchens where the servants had been.  The kitchen was the scene of a massacre.  Three of the bodies within belonged to Gire, Rumal and Kithrin.  On the ground next to Gire lay a shattered bottle of wine, evidently one he had been bringing through in anticipation of the one in the banquet running dry.  Other servants lay dead as well; the kitchen boy lay gutted and hung over the cave beast that he had been turning slowly on the spit.  Nearby, two of the cook's assistants lay headless, a large cleaver with their blood upon it nearby.  The last body was that of a serving girl, her livery soaked with her blood.  Quietly she started gathering the bodies, laying them out, carefully bathing them to show respect.  Tears were within her eyes, but she worked steadily, conscientiously.  These people had died because they served her, she felt the guilt of allowing so many to serve her, to die, while she sat and ate, feasting and drinking fine wines. Eria stood at the entrance to the kitchen and watched.  He made no move to help, his eyes searched for clues and the manner in which the assassin had worked. "This was no ordinary devil.  There are too many unanswered questions here; aside from the obvious one of how he entered the city.  I find myself wondering, how did it perform this massacre so silently?  This tableau has been staged; it has been carefully laid out to hide a message within.  Jelial wants us to panic, to strike in a rage of vengeance.  We must be cautious, make sure that whatever happens we take counsel and heed the message of this assassin: Nowhere is safe." *** Jeria, Gyv and Mekior stood before the glowing wall.  Even though he had seen it before, its glow fascinated Jeria, both Gyv and Mekior stared at it in awe.  Jeria could feel it call out to him, the fiendish blood within his veins answering its summons.  Maybe the human side protected him, dulled it, but he was able to control the compulsion to reach out and touch it.  To his right, Mekior was sweating, a strange sight for Gyv and Jeria since they could both feel a slight chill in the air, especially since they had the cool breeze from above blowing past.  But then, neither of them knew the battle of will power that Mekior fought. It calls to me.  Such a sweet summons, what delicious rewards it promises. It offers so much, the bliss and eternal peace, the freedom from strife, from the tribulations of life!  Mekior fought the call of the wall.  He knew it would be death if he touched it, yet it required his full concentration to stop his hand reaching out, to stop himself from stepping forward to embrace the promises the wall proffered.  He stumbled backwards, turning away from it, hiding from its gaze, its call diminishing as he did so. Mekior felt Gyv's hand on his shoulder; he saw her step around to him, her concerned look as she faced him. "Are you ok, lover?  What is the matter? You are looking sick, weak."  She knelt down as Mekior sank to the ground, his knees too weak to keep him upright. "It calls to me, Gyv.  Maybe I have seen too many fiends, been near too many of them.  It calls to me; it calls me to my destruction."  Mekior sat, head bowed, the wall behind him, singing to him, enticing him. Jeria looked at Mekior, concerned with his state.  He did not understand why a human, fiend hunter or not, should be affected so much worse than he, but the evidence lay before his eyes.  Carefully he walked along the wall, looking for breaks in its perfect symmetry.  And, eventually, he found it; an obvious crack in the ground; the result of some upheaval after the wall had been built, shifting one side slightly higher than the other, breaking some of the runes, marring the area's perfection and leaving an unprotected gap through which they could enter.  A thin stream of the brackish, reddish water flowed through as well, leaving its red stain upon the grain. Jeria returned to the other two, and, with Gyv's help, manoeuvred Mekior through the gap.  Beyond, the pull of the wall disappeared.  This side was plain, undressed stone.  Chisels and picks had left clear marks where they had been used to dig the rock from the ground.  The floor was smooth, stone blocks had been symmetrically cut and lead into the darkness, a floor of even, geometrical conciseness that spoke of architectural brilliance.  In the distance, a low glow could be seen.  There was no way see how far away it was, the distance impossible to measure in the dark.  Even with his ability to see in the dark, Jeria could make out no details, but for a bridge, narrow and made of stone, that disappeared into the depths of the cavern.</blockquote>

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