Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 287

The toxic gas breathed by the dracolich was corrosive, capable of burning the flesh and searing the lungs of any living thing. And its transition to undeath had not weakened the power of Vittris Bale’s breath weapon in the least. If anything, the dracolich’s breath had the force of a tempest, driving into the companions with the impact of a powerful storm.

But the companions, armed with forewarning, were prepared, and when the noxious cloud cleared, they were all but unharmed. Mole and Zenna had been knocked down by the force of the blast, but none of them had suffered from the effects of the gas, the protection from acid spells that each of them had received holding up—thus far. A cold surge of fear swept over them as the full force of the dracolich’s presence hit them, but the companions, veterans and bolstered against such terrors by Arun’s stalwart influence, were able to control their fear enough to stand fast before the beast.

The adventurers counterattacked, laying into the undead dragon with everything they had. The plan had been to wait for Zenna to attempt to bring down its magical defenses with a dispel, but with her prone, they did not hesitate. Dannel’s arrows knifed out at it, but the ancient creature’s frame was incredibly durable, and none of his initial volley hit. Beorna and Shensen unleashed spells, the dwarf blasting it with a searing light, the druid adding a flame strike that coursed down from above into its body. But the dracolich’s spell resistance was too powerful, and both spells dissolved as they struck it.

Zenna pulled herself up, and staggering back to regain her footing on the slick stone, she finally managed to fire off her dispel. White light flared briefly around the dracolich’s body, as its shield and mage armor dissolved. But even without those protections, Vittris Bale’s body was still nigh-invincible, a fact proven as Hodge’s heavy bolt and Mole’s much smaller missile both bounced harmlessly off it.

Perhaps ironically, it was Zenna’s tiny, summoned mephit that inflicted the first damage upon the dracolich, breathing a small gout of fire upon it from behind. But the damage was minimal, and Vittris Bale, confident in its might and the security of its defenses, surged down onto the ice bridge, its skeletal claws finding solid purchase on the slick surface.

As the dracolich’s dread gaze swept over them, the companions fought another kind of fear, this time an icy numbness that spread through their muscles, threatening to steal their ability to react, to fight back against the skeletal horror. Again, bolstered by magic and the protective aura of Zenna’s spell, the companions were mostly able to fight off the effects of the creature’s gaze. But Mole, blasted outside of the radius of Zenna’s spell by the dracolich’s breath, looked up into the creature’s burning eyes and knew terror, and she huddled there against the wall, unable to do anything but shake uncontrollably. And Dannel, likewise, was affected, his drawn arrow falling from his hands as Bale’s sinister power crept through his body.

Arun stepped forward to meet the creature, stepping boldly into its reach to swing at its leg as it landed. The dracolich snapped its head out and caught him up in its powerful jaws. Its touch was infused with the fierce chill of the grave, but Arun had been protected against that as well, and he was able to jerk free before it could lift him off his feet. The paralytic numbness of the lich’s touch was nothing against his enhanced stamina, and his blow, guided by the divine favor of Moradin, bit deep into its skull as he smote the undead drake. Vittris Bale felt a sharp pain that penetrated even through the emotionless halo of its undead existence, and drew back, a wide crack gaping with blue fire along the side of its massive skull.

The dire bats flashed down from above, keening with sonic pulses just beyond the edges of mundane hearing as they attacked the dracolich. Its fell presence affected them as powerfully as the half-drow woman they served, but driven by the power of her call, they nonetheless pressed their attacks. But both bats were buffeted back as the dracolich reared from Arun’s attack, and they had to pound their wings furiously as they swept away, gaining altitude for another pass.

Zenna, careful of the dracolich’s long reach, cast a spell upon Dannel. The elf nodded gratefully as the paralyzing terror left him, and he ran along the catwalk to the side, seeking an angle for an effective shot.

The dracolich had taken one serious hit, but its fury was now unleashed in full upon its enemies. The creature’s rage at its centuries of captivity found fruition now in the assault it unleashed upon these intruders that had dared to intrude upon its confined realm. It spread its attacks upon the nearest foes, hoping to paralyze at least a few of them with the creeping effects of its frozen touch.

But unfortunately for Vittris Bale, it faced dwarves this day.

Arun staggered as another deadly snap of the dracolich’s jaws nearly tore his sword—and the arm with it—from his body. The creature’s claws tore at his armor, opening wide rents, the blood freezing as soon as it pulsed from the wounds. Beorna, her heavy stride sounding loudly on the stones, was struck by a pair of lashes from the dracolich’s wings, buffeting her with the force of a giant’s punch. But Shensen had warded her again with stoneskin, and the wounds were relatively minor. The creature’s tail snaked out and smashed into Hodge even as the dwarf rushed forward with his burning axe, slamming him back to land heavily on his rear.

Their luck, fortified with divine protections and magical augmentations, held. None of the dwarves succumbed to the icy paralysis of the dracolich’s evil touch.

But Arun, even with his enhanced stamina, had clearly taken a beating. His breath plumed out in great white gouts as he fought for air, and his swordarm was a red mess, cut almost to the bone by the creature’s great teeth. The paladin’s face was a mask of determination, however, and no doubt or hesitation shone in his eyes. He would stand his ground, and only his death or the death of his adversary would change that equation.

The dwarves attacked. Beorna swept her sword around in a brilliant arc, crushing the blade into the dracolich’s body. Arun, half her size, could not match her reach, but he managed an aggressive swing that smashed several of the creature’s ribs. Hodge got up and ran forward, but as he reached the edge of the ice he lost his footing, and slid forward precariously close to the edge. The dracolich shifted its footing under the assault from the paladin and templar, and as hard bones of its right foot slammed into him Hodge went flying backward, sliding back along the way he had come. For a single heartbeat he leaned out over the chasm, his eyes widening as he beheld a long, long drop... and then he was clear, and he rolled to a stop, clutching his side where the beast had inadvertently slammed him.

The others kept up their attacks as well, and the dracolich was now showing clear signs of the damage wrought upon its skeletal form. Dannel finally got a telling shot through, his arrow caroming off its skull, and Shensen raised her hand, calling down a lightning bolt that blasted through its spell resistance. Zenna’s scorching rays, however, failed to do so, and as she looked around she saw Mole, lying helpless, and ran to her friend’s assistance.

Vittris Bale was not accustomed to fearing for its existence; it took immortality as a matter of course, as much a curse as a blessing. Now that it faced defeat, however, it found that it craved the continuation of what passed for its “life”, miserable and empty though it was. It had battered one of the dwarves near to the point of death, and the two others were injured, but it knew that it would not win if it continued this head-on confrontation.

The dracolich lurched to the side, and fell off of the ice-bridge, plummeting into the chasm below.

“Is... it... gone?” Hodge said, pulling himself back up to his feet.

Beorna and Arun’s gazes met, and both shook their head, the same thought running through their minds.

No...

 

[Lazybones]

288 has a better cliffhanger for a Friday post... so here's another post:

* * * * *

Chapter 288

At a cry from Shensen, the summoned dire bats dove into the darkness where the dracolich had disappeared. “We don’t have long,” the druid said, running over to lay a healing spell upon Hodge, then immediately launching into another casting.

“We’ll be ready,” Beorna said. She’d burned most of her spell slots for the various protections and wards they’d prepared, but she used one of her reserve spells to fuel a cure critical wounds spell for Arun, kneeling beside him. The paladin, in turn, healed her, laying hands upon her face... it was an odd, tender gesture, made strange by the fact that Arun seemed a child in the grasp of the enlarged templar.

Mole had shaken off the effects of the dracolich’s paralyzing gaze, and despite the danger she moved immediately once more to the lip of the catwalk, staring out into the darkness with a look that combined excitement and terror.

Zenna commanded the mephit to also delve into the chasm, and with a dark look and a chittering protest he complied, his tiny wings flapping as his flame-wreathed figure descended into the darkness. The companions watched as the creature descended, a bright point in a well of shadows.

A loud screech echoed up from below. The companions shared a look.

“Well, that’s the giant bats, I’d imagine,” Mole said. “Oh, the mephit disappeared!” she added, a moment later.

“The summoning spell only brings the creature here for a short time,” Zenna acknowledged.

The loose hairs framing Mole’s face fluttered wildly upward as another powerful gust rose up from below. “I think he’s coming back!” she said.

“Prepare yourselves!” Beorna cautioned. Her divine power spell had faded, and while she’d prepared a second one, she had just used its power to heal Arun. She laid another healing spell upon the paladin, restoring him nearly to full health, before stepping back, her sword raised in a guard position.

“Mole, get back!” Zenna warned, casting her second haste spell to renew the waning magic on her companions.

Shensen completed a summoning of her own, and a sleek, muscular griffon appeared on the catwalk beside her. She spoke to the creature, and with a powerful spring it leapt into the air, its wings beating fiercely as it let out a harsh avian screech that echoed throughout the cavern.

A dark shadow swept up out of the darkness. Vittris Bale ascended in a rush, half-flying, half-running up the smooth wall of the bore, the Soul Pillars and the darkness obscuring its form, transforming it into a malevolent shadow that was almost more menacing than the natural appearance of the creature. The darkness seemed to cling to it as it entered the pale radius of their light, and with her darkvision Zenna could just discern that it had restored its magical defenses, including a jumble of mirror images that darted in and around its form.

“Shensen!” she cried.

“I’m on it!” the druid responded.

The griffon dove toward the dragon as it rose up, but Vittris Bale turned its head up and unleashed a blast of corrosive gas that engulfed the summoned creature. The griffon, buffeted by the force of the undead drake’s tempest breath, was hurled roughly back. Its wings scored by the acidic vapors, it dropped out of sight below, still trying to recover.

The companions were already attacking, launching missiles and spells at the dracolich. Shensen hurled her own dispel at it, and was mostly successful, as the mirror images and shield vanished. But the faint haze of its mage armor remained intact, and the spider climb spell it had cast was clearly still potent as well, as it clambered yet higher along the far wall, carrying itself to a position well above them before it pushed off, spreading wings that could no longer catch the wind out of reflexive habit as it swept across the room toward them.

Arrows and bolts glanced harmlessly off its body as it flew toward them. Despite being battered in the initial confrontation, with great rents hacked in its form by the holy weapons of the dwarves, the creature was still imposing, magnificent in its sheer destructive potential. It flew through a fireball from Zenna unharmed, its spell resistance shielding it from the vivid blast of flames. Its flight was taking it directly toward Dannel, out on the left wing of the catwalk, but the elf stood his ground, calmly drawing another arrow, aiming, and releasing in a single practiced motion. The missile slammed into the undulating column of the dracolich’s spine, penetrating its defenses to blast away a fist-sized chip of ancient bone from its frame.

But the wound was just another minor mark on its tally, and it did not stop Vittris Bale from its target. The dracolich spread its wings and slammed hard into the wall fifteen feet above Dannel, its skeletal claws splaying out to grasp the frozen stone, the magic of its spider climb spell taking hold to affix the mighty creature in place. Even as Dannel turned the dracolich’s sinuous neck snapped down, and while Dannel tried to hurl himself aside, Bale’s jaws clamped down on his torso, dragging him roughly into the air.

“Dannel!” Zenna cried, a cold terror gripping her chest even as the methodical part of her brain recognized the way that the elf stiffened, paralyzed by the creature’s touch, unable to fight back or free himself. She dared not hurl another fireball at it, not with Dannel so vulnerable in its grasp, and in desperation launched a pair of scorching rays at it, praying that they would penetrate its resistance and harm it, and save the elf.

But both streams of fire flared out when they struck the ancient drake.

The dwarves tried to help, although the dracolich had cannily positioned itself just out of even Beorna’s extended reach. The templar conjured a glowing spiritual weapon, a sword of white flame that rose to attack the dracolich, but its initial swing failed to penetrate its defenses. Arun rushed directly beneath it, daring it to attack him, but he was too late to seize Dannel as the creature lifted him higher in its massive jaws.

And then, as the companions watched in horror, unable to stop it, Vittris Bale tossed the paralyzed elf out into the chasm.

 

[Broccli_Head]

288 has a better cliffhanger for a Friday post... so here's another post:



And then, as the companions watched in horror, unable to stop it, Vittris Bale tossed the paralyzed elf out into the chasm.

Hmm...how high do elves bounce when they hit the chasm floor?

 

[Elemental]

Hmm...how high do elves bounce when they hit the chasm floor?

I think the operative word here isn't 'high', but rather 'wide'.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 289

For a split second, Dannel Ardan seemed to hang there in the air, as time froze in a single dramatic moment. Then gravity overcame the momentum of the dracolich’s throw, and the helpless elf plummeted down toward his death far below.

Zenna could do nothing but stare as the man she loved—yes, still loved!—fell. But then, a flash of movement shattered that terrible moment. It was the druid, Shensen, leaping into the chasm, diving off the edge of the catwalk as if she were plunging into a lake, rather than the black depths of darkness and whatever lay below. She fell toward Dannel like a dart, and as they reached the edges of her darkvision first he, than her, disappeared as suddenly as if they’d been plunged into a pool of black ink.

And then she could only pray that whatever Shensen planned through that desperate maneuver would work, as the harsh reality of the ongoing battle with Vittris Bale dragged her back into the moment.

The dracolich roared a terrible challenge at them as their attacks continued to lash out at it without effect. For a second time Beorna’s animated divine sword clashed harmlessly off its body, and a bolt from Hodge’s heavy bow was likewise ineffective. But Mole finally made her presence known as she ran forward along the curve of the wall, careful to avoid staring directly at the drake, and hurled a sealed clay flask up at the wall where it was perched above them. The flask shattered on impact, releasing a blossoming orange flower of alchemist’s fire that splattered in burning gobs onto the dragon’s legs.

Bale lunged down again, this time intent upon seizing Arun. But the dwarf had readied himself for just such a strike, and as the dracolich’s jaws snapped down the dwarf sliced out with his sword, cleaving through the undead creature’s already-damaged lower jaw. Bone fragments shattered with the impact, and although it still slammed into Arun with the force of a battering ram, driving him back several steps, it seemed clear that the dwarf had come out better in the exchange. As the creature’s head reared back up on its long neck, the lower part of its skull came away, falling to the ground fifteen feet below, shattering on the hard stone.

But the dracolich fought on, and it stepped back another pace as Beorna joined Arun. The paladin hurled one of his light hammers up at the creature, but the weapon bounced harmlessly off one of its ribs without causing damage.

“How in the hells are we supposed to stop it!” Hodge exclaimed, cursing as he worked the winch of his heavy crossbow.

“Just keep attacking!” Zenna urged, though the same exact thought had been whispering in her own mind, warring with her dread over Dannel’s fate, both threatening to overcome her will and send her fleeing down the tunnel toward escape.

But she overcame her fear, and stood her ground. She launched her second—and final—fireball at the creature, but was not surprised to see it unaffected when the flames and smoke cleared. She cursed her limited spellbook; the most powerful spells in it were useless against an undead foe, but she had not had the time or the resources to add to her store of magic. At times it felt like they had all been running a race over the last few months, with one crisis after another sucking them up into a vortex of never-ending struggle against evil. Would that struggle end here? The dwarves were tough fighters, but their ability to hurt a distant foe was far less than their effectiveness at close quarters, and it seemed that the dracolich had recognized that fact.

Vittris Bale, however, could deal death at range, and its ruined jaw was not an impediment to the effectiveness of its breath weapon. Once more the roiling cloud of white vapors spilled out over them, engulfing all three dwarves and Zenna. Zenna tried to hold her breath, but she could feel her skin burning as the cloud poured over her, and realized with horror that this second blast had overloaded the remaining power of her protection from elements spell.

The next one was going to hurt, if they gave the dracolich the chance to recharge its breath for another attack. But given that it had taken everything they could throw at it, how were they going to stop it?

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 290

An avian cry drew Zenna’s attention to the side, and she turned toward the chasm to see a huge eagle rise up into view. For a moment she thought that she’d lost her senses, but then, as the mighty bird lifted higher on the beats of its powerful wings, she saw that in its claws, clutched tightly...

“Dannel!” she cried in relief. The giant eagle, or more accurately the wild shaped Shensen, came forward and dropped the elf lightly to the ground at Zenna’s feet, then lifted into the air again with another loud screech, winging over toward the dracolich.

Arun, unable to reach the dracolich, had not spent the last moments in vain. Even as its breath blasted over him he focused his thoughts and sent out a call for aid. And that call was answered, as a familiar reptilian figure appeared, clambering over the edge of the catwalk, a calm intelligence shining in its amber eyes as it took in the situation, and approached Arun, waiting to be commanded. The paladin leapt smoothly into place atop Clinger’s back, loosing his shield and grasping onto the harness there with his off-hand, holding his sword aloft in challenge as the celestial lizard started toward the wall.

Beorna’s spiritual weapon finally scored a hit, as Helm’s Blade drove solidly through the bones of one wing, smashing the entire limb and sending a clatter of loose bones falling toward the ground below. The templar, lacking another spell that could harm it, drew out her bow, and was sending huge arrows up at it, trying to find a weak spot where the missiles could do damage.

Shensen flew past, just out of the dracolich’s reach, and let out a loud screech. A bolt of lightning lanced down from above, drawn by the power of the druid’s still-active call lightning storm spell. The bolt lanced through the weakened drake’s spell resistance, sending a bright flare through the unholy light the shone within the depths of its damaged skull.

Turning away from the ineffective barrage from below, and the mounted dwarf just beginning to essay the slick vertical wall, the dracolich leapt into the air after her.

“Shensen, look out!” Mole yelled.

The eagle darted around the Soul Pillars, slicing between them in a tight acrobatic turn. But although Vittris Bale was less agile in the air, the dracolich was surprisingly fast, and in its centuries of captivity it had come to know this place very, very well. The eagle emerged into the open air to find the undead dragon looming over it, Bale’s claws extended toward her.

The companions could only watch, their missiles passing around or through the skeletal dragon’s fleshless body without harming it, as the eagle turned and floated up into the dracolich’s waiting embrace. Even as its claws pierced her, tearing at her adopted body, she released a final furious cry. At that call a last bolt of liquid energy stabbed down from above, striking the dracolich solidly in the skull. Vittris Bale let out a terrible scream, a cry of torment and suffering that went beyond mere pain, and then with a bright flash of white light its skull exploded.

The draconic body, trailing smoke and lingering sparks of light, plummeted into the darkness below, the giant eagle still trapped in its embrace.

One by one, the companions—including Dannel, who’d come to slowly from Zenna’s cure critical wounds spell—gathered at the edge of the catwalk and stared into the black abyss below. They had won, but again the cost had been high.

“Shensen...”

 

[Stebie9173]

Wow! And not even Shensen's red shirt left to bury...

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 291

They found her body, returned to its natural form, among the shattered bones of the dracolich on the uneven stones at the bottom of the shaft. Arun traveled down on Clinger to recover her body and confirmed that the dracolich was truly destroyed. Mole and Zenna went with him, not only to help him search, but to see if the dracolich’s phylactery could be found.

The cavern floor was a jumble of piled stones, a haphazard, treacherous mess, slick with centuries of accumulated ice. But Zenna’s detect magic spell proved up to the task, and they soon found a deep crevice where Mole was able to recover a fair amount of treasure stockpiled by the dracolich. Much of it, she said upon examination, looked to be fairly recent acquisitions, suggesting that Abradius or his associates had bestowed it upon the dracolich as a bribe for access to the Soul Pillars. Why an undead dragon trapped in a cavern for hundreds of years would have need of such valuables was beyond Zenna, but she was aware of the avarice of dragonkind—an attribute that apparently transcended such creatures’ mortal lives.

They carefully wrapped the slain druid’s body for transport. “A glorious sacrifice,” Beorna commented. “Confronted with a superior foe, she took her enemy with her. Truly a heart of great valor resided within her.”

“She risked her life without thought to save me,” Dannel said.

“Jenya should be able to raise her,” Zenna said. “We’ll bring her back with us.” She didn’t add, After we finish our business here, but she didn’t have to. Even with the dracolich’s menace destroyed, they could all sense the lingering evil in this place, given substance in the shadowy forms of the five Soul Pillars.

“I still do not like this,” Arun said. “Those... things... should be destroyed.”

“I do not believe we have the power to do that,” Zenna told him. “They are ancient, and the power within...”

“Evil power,” the dwarf returned.

“We need the knowledge held here. Or have you forgotten the last line of Beorna’s divination?”

The dwarf did not respond, but his feelings were clear on his face. Beorna, too, frowned, but she would not openly question the apparent mandate of Helm in this matter.

Before they turned to the Pillars, they examined the objects that Zenna and Mole had recovered. Most prominent was a bastard sword of unblemished, shining steel, crafted in an archaic style that could very well have been a thousand years old. There was a silver amulet that radiated transmutation magic, which Zenna judged to be of similar nature to those they already possessed, that enhanced the health and fortitude of the wearer. There were a number of items of platinum jewelry set with precious gems, including several rings, a scepter, and a crown. They seemed to be a matching set, and Zenna figured that they were probably stolen, finding their way here through the activities of the still-nebulous “Cagewrights”. There was also a fair amount of coinage of mints both recent and ancient, all of which was sorted and placed in small sacks into Mole’s bag of holding.

But most disturbing was a small jeweled box, which seemed to flicker with a faint inner light when glanced at out of the corner of one’s eye, but which seemed unremarkable when viewed directly. Arun pronounced it as filled with a resounding taint, while Zenna’s direct magic immediately gave her a splitting headache.

“I’d say we’ve found our dragon’s phylactery,” she said, recoiling from the box.

That was enough for Beorna, who with a resounding blow from her holy sword sundered the box into a thousand tiny pieces.

“So much for that,” she said.

Mole started to collect the pieces, which included a fair number of good-sized gems, but Dannel forestalled her. “We’d better keep that separate from the other treasure, and take them to Jenya for divine cleansing, just in case.”

With all of the preliminaries resolved, there was nothing left but their final errand here. Slowly they each turned to face the looming pillars.

Zenna stepped forward, alone. With the others watching intently, she stepped out onto the bridge of ice, moving forward the power that, she hoped, held answers to the questions that had brought them here.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 292

A web of shadows enveloped her. Within that darkness ran currents of being, the warped essences of once-living things that were drawn to her, whispering secrets of lore and madness that filled her, threatened to drag her down with them. It was only through a supreme effort of will that she remained afloat in that sea, keeping the essence of who she was, what she was, intact.

The souls seemed to accommodate themselves to her presence, surrounding her, caressing the disembodied form of her spirit-self in a way that was profoundly disturbing. She probed through the endless web, seeking the specific information that she wanted, trying to focus the disordered chaos to her need.

And then, so suddenly that it sent a tremor of shock through her even through the numb reality of this place, the living black parted, thrusting her into an empty void of nullity. In that space, vacant of anything save her own thoughts, she felt a brief flare of panic. Was she trapped here? No... she could feel the slender thread that connected her to the other reality, the place where her body waited, along with her friends...

Then she realized that she was not alone. There was a presence here, surrounding her... belatedly she realized that all of this, the gray emptiness, it was this... what? She could not put it into mundane words of description. But this was what she had been seeking, she knew. Now that she had attuned herself to it, she could sense the currents of power here.

Tenuously, she extended a probe to meet it.

Awareness exploded through her... too much... she could not contain it, and she drew back, her consciousness threatening to come apart under the barrage. Conscious though was driven away by it, and that part of her that was still Izandra... clung desperately to the slender lifeline back, buffeted mercilessly by the sudden storm. There was no gravity in this place, no “down”, yet she knew she was falling...

falling...

Zenna’s eyes popped open to reveal the familiar outlines of her room. The only sound was the hard rasp of her breathing, her heart slamming like a hammer inside her chest. She instantly realized that the experience had been a dream, another reflection of what had happened back in Karran-Kural...

She knew from experience that she would not be able to sleep more than night, so she got up, pulling a light robe from the bedpost to wrap around her slender frame. It was the deep of the night, and even the mundane sounds of the predawn hours in Cauldron that drifted in through the open window were muted. It was as if the entire city was wrapped in an enfolding blanket, collectively waiting for the return of the light to stir.

Mole’s bed was vacant; not a surprise. The gnome’s curiosity was insatiable, and she saw sleep as an unfortunate necessity, when there were new things waiting to be discovered. She’d spent a fair amount of time with Dannel pursuing leads in the city, and Zenna suspected that not a good percentage of that time was spent dealing with less-than-savory figures, courting danger. That was just the way she was, and the fact that people still wanted them dead—and others who didn’t fit into the category of “people” as well—could not change that.

She looked at the books lying upon her desk, but did not go to them. She just sat there, on the edge of the bed, staring out in the darkness that held no secrets for her. Unlike the world outside that door, she thought.

They’d taken a victory with them from Karran-Kural, but more, too. Zenna’s power had continued to grow, opening up new valences of both arcane and divine power. Even though she’d long sought exactly that, she was surprised at the speed with which she was rising, and in times of introspection felt far, far older than her still-youthful body belied. But introspection was also a rare thing of late, as events continued to surge forward at a desperate rate.

Cauldron was under siege. There were no armies of men, no beasts in the jungles threatening, but the danger was there nonetheless. The knowledge they’d brought back was vague, fragmentary; the scrolls of the evidently mad wizard Abradius, the scraps that Zenna had been able to delve from her brief communion with the Soul Pillars. Perhaps if she returned, spent more time delving into those secrets, they could connect more of the pieces... but even that brief communion had been enough to show her that the end of that road was insanity...

They’d sealed Karran-Kural behind them as best they could. Shensen’s druidic powers might have been able to do a better job of it, but the fact was that they’d really lacked the power to destroy the pillars themselves. But from what she’d learned, the Cagewrights had already gotten what they needed from the ancient citadel.

The Cages. They were key, though they did not know exactly how, of yet. The Shackleborn. Another term without meaning, a scrap of knowledge, the piece of a jigsaw puzzle where they did not even know the shape of the final design. One thing, however, was clear, at least to Zenna; she felt it to the core of her being.

The plans of the Cagewrights would involve the utter transformation of Cauldron, and everyone in it.

And somehow, it was up to them to stop it.

Something came together in her thoughts. Rising from the bed, she crossed to the table where she’d left her things. She dressed quickly, needing no light to find every item in her inventory, to verify that every pouch, every scroll, every wand was in its proper place. Once readied she turned to the books, and slid them into their proper places in the light pack that she wore under her cloak. The cloak came last, falling off her shoulders around her body like a black shroud.

Only then, when fully prepared, did she hesitate. Finally she turned to the desk, and taking a quill and a small fragment of parchment she quickly scribed a note, folding the message over to write Mole’s name on the back of the paper. She slid the note under the edge of the inkwell to hold it shut, and then stepped back, straightening.

She took a deep breath. A tiny whisper in her mind told her that this was foolish. But if there was ever a time for precipitous action, this was it.

She spoke a brief incantation, and vanished from her room, and from Cauldron.


THE END OF “SECRETS OF THE SOUL PILLARS”

COMING SOON: LORDS OF OBLIVION


* * * * *

Happy holidays to all my readers, and thanks for your feedback! While I'm well ahead in the story right now, I'm going to take a break over the holidays as my wife and I do some traveling. I'll start posting Book VII around New Year's.

 

[Broccli_Head]

Happy Holidays! Thanks for all the great writing. Have a great vacation .