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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2520882" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 444Arun felt tired.  As wearying as the physical exhaustion that days of battles and almost constant battering was the emotion drain inflicted by the constant noise of suffering that filled Skullrot.  And on top of that was the presence of the entity trapped… securely?... in his cage on the far side of the room. One mere step offered solace; to his left as he walked his sentry path was the cloudy white border of Cal’s private sanctum.  Inside, he knew, Lok was his second on watch.  The companions had agreed that they’d hold double watches, with one person inside, one just outside of the sanctum. Those inside could see out, but no sound penetrated the outer border of the spell effect, forcing them to keep someone on post outside lest they miss the sounds of an approaching enemy.  Prior to their rest Cal had laid an alarm at the main entrance to the citadel below as well, but none of them wanted to take any chances, not here, not with the dangling cage and its inhabitant as a constant reminder of what was at stake. Arun cracked his back, twisted his arms to loosen them, and kept walking.  Lok would spell him after a while; despite their experience one could not help but have their senses dulled by the constant cries of Skullrot’s mad inhabitants.  The paladin had already inwardly decided that he would not wake Beorna for the second watch; the templar needed her rest, especially for the spells that she would be able to cast after a good night’s sleep.  They’d already determined that Cal and Dana would sleep a full eight hours uninterrupted.  Unfortunately that meant long shifts for the warriors.  Arun was used to long nights; during his training he’d spent several watches of twenty or more hours at the ramparts deep under the earth, below the Great Rift.  Those had been lonely watches, with only the darkness to keep him company.  Darkness that could contain goblins, orcs, or worse—foul abominations come up from the Underdark seeking warm flesh and hot blood to feast upon.  The paladin had found himself thinking of his homeland more often of late.  He’d accepted his exile, had come to grips with it… and he’d found a new place to call home, a place that had embraced him.  In talking with Beorna there had been oblique mention of plans, of a future… nothing they’d wanted to put into concrete terms, not with the threat of obliteration a constant on this mission.  But it was enough to know that there was hope, beyond all of the blood and evil and madness. Despite all that, his thoughts drifted back.  Maybe it was the solitude of this watch; even though his companions were just a few paces away, the barrier of Cal’s spell separated him from them, partitioned them off into a shadowy reality that was less real than the screams and cages and dreaming godling that were his companions this night. Lok had not complained.  The genasi was possessed of a calm fortitude that Arun found to be refreshing and reassuring.  He was still suffering from the effects of the lichfiend’s energy drain; all the more reason for Dana to get her rest, to restore him before the effects of the spell took hold upon his soul and became permanent. Arun reached the end of his circuit and turned back.  As he did, his gaze stole back to the cage for the thousandth time.  Adimarchus had not stirred, although occasionally he shifted between his two forms.  Angel and demon.  The juxtaposition spoke of a shattered mind, and from what Arun knew of the fallen creature’s tale there was a suffering beyond mere mortal comprehension trapped in that cage with the immortal lord.  He lowered his eyes and continued his patrol, but before he’d taken two steps in his circuit around the borders of the sanctum a sound, faint, drew his attention back around.  At first he thought that the noise had come from the cage—his heart pounded even with that flickering suggestion—but then he realized that it had originated from the dark shaft below it, the one that opened onto a two-hundred foot drop to the blood-splattered floor of Skullrot below. He moved quickly over to the edge of the opening, careful not to draw too close.  He did not like heights, but liked even less the sounds he could just hear over the background noise of the citadel.  A rumbling vibration, very faint, accompanied by a clatter of what might have been falling stone.  “What is it?” Lok asked, his body materializing through the edge of the sanctum.  Arun didn’t answer, but they could both hear the loud sound that followed, a loud screech, something new, yet at the same time vaguely familiar.  “Wake the others!” Arun urged, edging forward and leaning out over the dark opening to get a look down.  The pale red light that shone through the walls of the fortress wasn’t very good to see by, but when they’d returned to the ground level for Cal to cast his alarm spell, they’d left Dannel’s old torch, glowing with continual flame, in the eyesocket of one of the skulls that comprised the walls.  The golden glow of the torch seemed wan and feeble in the great interior of the prison, but it was still somehow reassuring to see it far below them, flickering still. Something drifted into view, appearing through a new gap the size of a house that had been blasted into the wall of the citadel, maybe thirty or forty feet above ground level.  The source of the sounds, then; although there was only a faint hint of dust floating in the air, no evidence of an explosion or other forced entry.  The intruder was little more than a vague outline in the weak light, but its size and shape were distinctive.  Arun felt a sickening twist in his gut as recognition dawned.  “What is it?” Mole asked, appearing through the edge of the sanctum a few moments before the others, Beorna holding her armor in one hand, and her bare sword in the other.  Arun turned to face them.  That his report would be bad was evident on his face even before he spoke. “It’s Vhalantru… the beholder’s back.”</blockquote>

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