Tales of the Legacy - Concluded
- Thread starter Delemental
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Delemental
First Post
Krafus said:
Duly noted. Future bad guys will suffer an appropriately gruesome fate in full view.
Delemental
First Post
Dreamquest
Eventually the winds died down, and everyone tumbled to a standstill. They picked themselves up and dusted off the hot, dry sleep-sand that surrounded them. They were in a vast desert, featureless except for a few tall trees with human hands at the ends of the branches, gently waving in the breeze. Although all still shaken by their recent experience, somehow their presence in this strange dimension gave them a sense of strength, as if they weren’t just themselves, but a purer, more idealized version of themselves. They felt healthy and refreshed, and Kyle, Lanara and Tolly noticed that their spell energy, which had been nearly depleted in the battle with Meeranda, was restored to its full potential.
“Where are we now?” Lanara asked, pouring sand out of her boot.
“Does it matter?” grumbled Kyle.
“He’s right,” Osborn said. “If we are in the Dream Realm, then it’s not that important where we are, just how we get back home.”
“Wait,” said Autumn suddenly, “where’s Arrie?”
They looked around, and saw that the warrior was nowhere to be seen. Instead, one of Aran’s dromites greeted their gaze – they recognized him as Tek, the dromite who often assisted Aran at his home. It wore a two-bladed sword made of crystal across its back.
Autumn ran over and grabbed the dromite by its shoulders. “Where is my sister?”
Tek looked at her calmly, its mandibles twitching slightly. “Your clutch-mate is with my clutch-mates. They are trapped in the Nightmare.”
“How do they get out?” Autumn asked.
“They do not. We must retrieve them.”
“If we go there, will we get trapped as well?”
“Does it matter?” Tolly asked.
“No, but I want to know,” Autumn replied.
“Come on!” said Lanara. “Let’s go! It’ll make a great story.” Kyle rolled his eyes behind her.
Autumn turned her attention back to Tek. “Do you know the way?”
Tek looked around for a while, studying the near-featureless terrain. “This way,” it said, pointing in what looked like a random direction.
“I do have discern location prepared,” Tolly said. “We could find Arrie easily.”
“Save it,” Kyle said. “Let the dromite lead us first. If we get lost, then you can use the spell. It’s pointless to waste resources that aren’t needed.”
The Legacy walked through the desert, following Tek across the landscape. Occasionally strange creatures would be seen in the distance, or flying overhead.
Lanara glanced down at Osborn, who was astride Rupert, and did a double take. “Where did you get that?” she asked. She pointed to a prominent holy symbol of Ladta hanging at Osborn’s belt.
“It happened during the sandstorm,” he said. “I felt Ladta’s presence in my mind, and she offered me the chance to become one of her priests. I accepted, and this symbol formed out of the sands.”
“So, does this mean you’re going to become another stick-up-your-butt cleric like Tolly?”
“Gods, no! Ladtan clerics are much more relaxed than Ardarans. We don’t even have sticks.”
“Well, good,” Lanara said, “especially since as far as we know, Ladtan priests may be the only kind left when we get back.”
“Ardara is not dead,” Tolly said to them both. “I still feel her presence, though it is not the same as it was.”
“Unless it’s just your own mind projecting the ideal of Ardara into the Dream Realm,” Kyle said, “and all you’re feeling is a lingering memory of a subconscious longing.”
With no real response to this sobering thought, they continued on in silence.
They traveled for some amount of time; they found it was impossible to determine time or distance here. Eventually, Tek stopped the party, and pointed up to a bank of clouds. “The Nightmare Realm is there,” it said.
“How do we get up there?” Lanara asked. “Fly?”
Tek shook its head. “Dream does not work that way. You must all travel the same path or become lost, and the method is as important as the destination. We must build a fire, and then ascend the smoke.”
Tolly looked around at the flat desert surrounding them. “There’s not much here to burn.”
Tek’s antennae twitched, and he focused on the sand at their feet. Slowly, the sand shifted, and swirled, and rose up from the ground. The sand changed into the form of a large wooden armoire; the party recognized it as an armoire that they’d seen inside Aran’s manor. Lanara opened it, and saw that it was full of clothing, though it was all very oddly shaped and colored.
“This is the object in which the master keeps his…” the dromite seemed to struggle for the word, “cloth drapings.”
“Odd taste,” Lanara commented, holding up a shirt with uneven sleeves and over a hundred buttons on the front.
“It’s probably Tek’s perception of what human clothing is,” Kyle said. “The armoire was created through his own force of will.”
They quickly set about smashing the armoire to kindling and building a fire from the wood and cloth inside. Osborn soaked the pile in oil, and Kyle ignited it with a quick spell. Soon they had a roaring fire going, and smoke curled high up into the sky. As they watched, the smoke began to form into a narrow, winding staircase.
Tek looked around at the group, and pointed at Tolly. “You falling would be unpleasant. Let us go last.”
They began to climb up the smoke ladder. Osborn, Lanara, and Autumn had little trouble with the climb, and were soon far up in the sky. Tolly, near the back, was most of the way up when his foot slipped off the edge and he fell, though thanks to his ring of feather falling his descent was slowed. Autumn, hearing his cry, immediately spread her wings and swooped down, catching the priest and helping him back to the staircase. Kyle, looking down as Autumn smiled at something he said to her, watched them slowly loop around toward the stair, and then he turned and began walking again, choosing his footing carefully.
There was only one other mishap when Kupa, the copper dragon, slipped off the stairs, but he recovered in midair and swooped back to the staircase easily. Soon enough, they all went into the clouds overhead. At first the clouds seemed light and wispy, but as they climbed the sky grew dark, as though night were falling, and soon it felt as though they were ascending into the heart of a violent thunderhead.
Suddenly, everything around them changed, as quickly as if transitioning from one kind of dream to another. They all found themselves in a tunnel, leading off into the distance. The walls were made of stone, but it looked as though it had been shaped or carved to resemble a living creature’s gullet or intestinal tract. Although there was no visible source of light anywhere, none of them had any problems seeing.
“I don’t believe I care for this realm,” Tolly muttered. He felt uneasy here, even though his inquisitorial training had rendered him immune to the effects of fear. Looking around, he could see the same apprehension on the faces of the others.
“We go this way,” Tek said, pointing down the corridor. “The way will be guarded by nightmares.” Strangely, as soon as Tek said it, they all knew this was true, even though there was no sign of anything living other than themselves.
They walked along the corridor until they emerged into a large, spherical chamber. A number of passageways exactly like the one they were in led off from the chamber in all directions; left, right, up, down. When they stepped out into the chamber, they learned that regardless of where they stood, gravity always pulled them toward the floor. Osborn was able to walk up and stand directly over Tolly without discomfort. The only inexplicable part was that they’d all known, before even coming into the room, that this was exactly how it would work.
Tek pointed to one of the passageways. “That one shows signs of being used. Our clutch-mates are beyond.” Tek’s antennae quivered. “We will have to face the First Guardian before we can proceed.”
“Why?” Autumn asked. “If this is a dream realm, why not just think up a shortcut and get to Arrie and the other dromites? Why couldn’t they just think up their own escape?”
“Because this isn’t a realm of Thoughts,” Lanara said. “It’s a realm of Ideals. It’s not just the reflection of the dreams that we all have when we’re asleep, but of our deepest conceptions of who we are and how the world works. That’s why we all feel more… well, more perfect here. We aren’t just ourselves, we’re idealized versions of ourselves. But part of our self-concept is that of being heroes. And everyone knows that what heroes do is face increasing adversity in order to gain their reward. So unfortunately, as much as I’d like an easy solution, I think that we will have to face this First Guardian, and then one more powerful after than, and another after that, and so on until we’ve ‘earned’ the right to free Arrie and the others. Whatever we end up facing, it’s likely that it will be drawn out of our own worst fears and insecurities.”
“Wow,” Osborn said. “That’s the kind of thing I’d expect Kyle to say.”
“I have my moments,” Lanara said with a grin. “In a lot of ways, dream-logic and story-logic are very similar.”
They proceeded down the corridor, which seemed identical to the one they had entered from. However, they saw that it ended in a large chamber, featureless except for the creature at the far wall. It appeared to be a mass of six large, white, snake-like creatures emerging from a pit of blackness in the wall; despite the multiple heads, they sensed that it was a single creature. The eyeless creature seemed to be waiting patiently for them to enter the chamber.
“Very courteous of it,” Lanara said.
“We could just blast it from back here,” Autumn suggested, “but somehow I think that might be breaking the rules.”
They took a moment to prepare themselves, and then entered the chamber. The serpent heads lashed out as the party drew closer. Both Osborn and Kyle assaulted the creature with spells; Osborn with a fireball from a wand, and Kyle with arcs of lightning. Both spells rolled off the creature harmlessly, deflected by its resistance to magic. Spells from Tolly and Lanara also failed to affect the snake-beast. Autumn and Tek rushed in, weapons drawn, and succeeded where their companions had faltered, drawing streams of black ichor from the creature. In response, the heads snapped out at the dromite and the aasimar. Autumn was able to escape the creature, its many jaws closing around her displaced image, but Tek was lifted high into the air as the snaky appendages wrapped around it.
As Autumn continued to hack at the creature, and Osborn moved to get a better angle, Kyle moved beside Tolly and tried to bolster the spell the priest was casting, using his deep understanding of metamagic to boost the spell’s power. Kyle scowled as his mental exercises failed to have the desired effect, though the bear’s roar* spell that Tolly was casting still went off, tearing at the creature with sonic energy. A blast of acid from Kupa also caused it to recoil. But it was Autumn and her greataxe that felt the brunt of the creature’s wrath, as several of the heads dropped Tek and enveloped the sentinel. But this proved a fatal miscalculation, for the dromite leapt to the attack, its double-bladed sword whirling. Tek seemed well trained in how to combat such strange monstrosities, as every blow seemed to cause it great pain. Between Tek’s ferocity, and the many daggers that Osborn threw, the last heads soon collapsed. From the center of the blackness in the center of the twitching mass, they all saw a huge, fanged maw screaming in rage and pain, and then suddenly it dissolved, the creature dissipating into shadow.
Tolly quickly went around with a healing wand, taking care of injuries. He healed Autumn first, and then tapped Tek, closing up the few wounds it had. Tek looked curiously at the wand.
“It is a stick,” it said.
“It is a blessed stick,” Tolly explained. Tek shook its head.
“Crystal is so nuch easier to empower,” it said.
As the darkness lifted, it revealed an enormous set of unadorned iron doors in the far wall. The doors opened, and suddenly everyone was pulled forward rapidly through it. They found themselves in a room, exactly like the one they had been in moments ago, standing in the exact spots they’d been in when the snake-creature had attacked.
“How original,” Lanara said.
The air at the back of the room shimmered, and a creature appeared. This time, instead of multiple snake-like heads, the creature resembled a black, rubbery tree made of flesh. Thick, stringy fungus was draped all over the creature, and about a dozen ‘branches’ swayed menacingly, each tipped with a single large eye. Three fanged maws slavered in the tree’s trunk, and its roots were a writhing mass of tentacles.
“Somebody out there is having some pretty messed up nightmares,” Autumn said.
“Probably a druid,” Kyle said, as he quickly cast a spell to boost his wife’s reflexes. She took immediate advantage, rushing forward and landing a devastating blow against the nightmare tree.
The branches shook, and beams of energy shot from the various eyes. The entire party was engulfed in cascading bolts of lightning that arced and sizzled between them. Another eye ray struck Kyle, who was knocked senseless. Yet another ray intercepted the resonating bolt spell that Lanara was casting at the tree, reflecting it back at the bard. Lanara cried out in pain as her own spell struck her. Tolly and Kupa rushed in, flailing against the waving branches, but the thick, wiry fungus draping the tree proved difficult to penetrate.
Autumn continued to chop at the tree, but she noticed that the head of her greataxe would sometime become insubstantial when she brought it close to the tree, causing it to pass through the nightmare with little effect. Still, some blows did land true, so she persisted. Lanara’s bardic music bolstered their efforts as Autumn, Tolly, Tek and Kupa continued their assault. More eye rays shot out among the party, including another blast of lightning directed at the copper dragon, but a timely warning shouted by Lanara helped him avoid the bolt. Osborn’s daggers began piercing some of the deadly eyes, giving them all a reprieve. Finally, a solid blow from Tolly’s hammer succeeded in splitting the trunk, and with a horrific screech and a spray of sap-like blood, the creature began to dissipate.
As the creature dissolved, Kyle came out of his stupor. He looked at the rapidly decomposing tree, and sighed. “Naturally,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Lanara asked him.
“Never mind.”
Another iron door appeared behind the tree, and as before they found themselves pulled forward as the doors swung open. This time, however, they found themselves falling through what felt like an infinite void. After some immeasurable amount of time, they felt their feet come to rest on a solid surface, although they could still see nothing but inky blackness beneath their feet. They came to rest in a rough circle, and in the center of that circle rose a shuddering, glistening cone of jelly and slime. It was striated with veins of green and black, and a pair of burning red eyes floated in the mass. Glistening pseudopods extended in all directions, waving menacingly at the party. As soon as it appeared, they were all struck by a wave of pure maleficent power.
Weapons were drawn, and spells were cast. Kyle looked around, took a firm grip on his staff… and then stepped back, leaning on the staff, and watched, a resigned expression on his face.
The others were too busy to comment on this. The slime-beast flung a wad of greenish slime at Tek, which covered the dromite and rapidly began eating through its armor, clothing, and carapaced flesh. Fortunately, Tek was able to summon up some of his innate psionic power, and froze the slime with a cold ray emanating from its antenna.
Autumn blasted the slime creature with searing light from her eyes, while Kupa breathed a cloud of gas at it that would slow its responses - but the beast seemed largely unconcerned by these efforts. Osborn drew from his newly discovered faith to place a protective ward on himself, while Tolly took a more offensive approach and tried to imprison the beast, though the powerful spell had no effect, other than to draw the creature’s attention. Four thick pseudopods, dripping with acid, slammed into Tolly from several angles. The acid burned his flesh and his armor at the same time, and within seconds his plate mail fell away from his body in a jumbled heap of slag. A few daggers thrown by Osborn were similarly eaten away to nothing.
Autumn and Tek joined Tolly at close quarters, while Lanara tried fruitlessly to blast it with her spells. The slime creature’s magical protection proved as formidable as its physical defenses, and their efforts produced little noticeable effect.
Away from the scene of battle, Kyle surveyed the situation. He sighed, and cast a quick spell, which seemed to have no effect. But in that same instant of time, Tolly suddenly realized that his visible image had shifted and blurred, and Lanara suddenly realized that the dimension door spell in her ring of spell storing had somehow been replaced with an assay resistance spell. Both used the sudden change to their advantage, with Lanara now able to pierce some of the creature’s magical resistance to hit it with a resonating bolt, and Tolly was able to move into the fray and draw some of its fire.
The creature focused its rage on Kupa, as the copper dragon was both immune to the acidic fluids dripping from its pseudopods, and had managed to do significant damage with its teeth and claws. A pair of solid blows knocked the dragon aside, and for good measure it sent a glob of green slime at the dragon as well. Other tentacles struck Autumn and Tek, and they both watched in disbelief as their armor dissolved into nothing.
Another flurry of daggers struck the creature, and tore a hole in the glistening mass. Osborn saw a familiar hand suddenly protrude out from the wound, reaching and grasping.
“Arrie’s inside of it!” he shouted.
Hearing this, Autumn renewed her efforts, her jaw set in vicious determination as her axe bit into the creature. But as the axe slid into the acidic flesh, it began to warp and melt, and soon the sentinel was left with nothing but a sizzling metal stick in her hands. Another slap from a tentacle caught her on the head, and dissolved the magical tiara she wore as a symbol of her rulership of Vargex. Weaponless and armorless, she was forced to withdraw.
Tolly, now seriously wounded, paused long enough to throw his own maul to Autumn before healing his wounds, and then rushing over to heal the badly injured Kupa, whose scaled flesh had been eaten away by the green slime. Kyle reached out as Autumn went by and made her invisible, offering her some form of protection against the slime-beast’s attacks.
The creature was now dividing its attention between the three most dangerous opponents; Tek, Osborn, and Kupa. The dragon was knocked off his feet and sent sprawling, and then picked up in two pseudopods like a rag doll. Tek, whose crystalline sword appeared immune to the creature’s acid, used it to slice gobbets of ooze off the creature, while Osborn’s daggers were doing the same, although every blade he threw dissolved into nothingness. Another resonating bolt from Lanara caused the creature to recoil enough to give Autumn an opening to move in and strike. Unfortunately, when the maul connected the creature’s gelatinous body simply yielded to the blunt instrument, doing nothing except coating the maul in acid, which quickly ate it away to slag.
“Damn it!” Autumn cursed, as she drew an ordinary dagger.
The creature focused on keeping Osborn and Kupa off balance, so they couldn’t bring their full abilities to bear. A third successful resonating bolt from Lanara managed to tear enough of the creature away that one of Tek’s clutch-mates suddenly popped out, landing in a puddle of goo near Tek’s feet.
“Brothers!” Tek cried out, attacking the creature with renewed vigor, “I will free you!”
Tolly cast a spell to detect thought patterns, hoping to pinpoint where exactly in the creature he would find Arrie and the other dromites. He briefly touched the intellect of the slime-creature; just enough to know that continuing to examine it would lead to madness. He was about to pray for divine intervention to help rescue his friend, when suddenly a mucus-covered Ariadne appeared where Kyle had been standing moments before. Looking at the creature, Tolly saw a blue-robed arm emerging from its far side, close to where Autumn was fighting.
Fortunately, another series of attacks by Osborn and Tek managed to finally bring the creature down, and it exploded in a cascade of translucent slime and ichor. Kyle and the other dromites emerged from the pile, the wizard’s robes hanging in tatters around him and his buckler little more than a few slivers of wood.
“That was foolish,” Arrie said to Kyle. “What were you thinking?”
“Indeed,” Tolly added, “jumping into the midst of that monstrosity was rash.”
Kyle stared at the both of them. “Very well,” he said, “next time I’ll let you stay inside the acidic slime beast and die.” He turned and walked away, leaving Arrie to reunite with her sister and Tolly to tend to the wounded.
“Where’s Aran?” Arrie asked.
“We don’t know.” Autumn replied. “We lost him in the storm.”
“We should probably find him,” Lanara suggested.
“No,” Autumn said, “I need to find my god and protect him.”
Tek turned to face the aasimar. “We will search for the master,” it said. “And now that you are together again, you can find your way out of the Dream Realm.”
“Let me try to find Aran first,” Tolly offered. He sat down and performed the ritual for a discern location spell, but when he finished, Tolly frowned. “Nothing,” he said. “Which means he is either dead, or something very powerful is blocking the divination.”
“Aran himself is pretty powerful,” Arrie said. “He may be blocking your spell himself**. I suggest we not worry about Aran, and let the dromites take up the search while we return to our world. We have important things to do there.” Several of them nodded their heads at this, Kyle being a notable exception.
“I’m sure that Tek will contact us or other allies if they need help,” Arrie said. Tek nodded its agreement.
“Okay then,” Lanara said, “let’s get out of here. I’m ready to wake up.”
-----------------
* The actual spell name is lion's roar, from Spell Compendium, but since Ardara's totem animal is a bear, I figured this would be the version he received.
** Although the description of discern location says that only deific level intervention can block it, in this game certain epic-level effects can do it as well. So this could simply be Aran protecting himself with an epic version of psionic mind blank. Of course, he could also be dead, or have been captured by other epic-level psions who are capable of masking his location. Only time will tell...
Next time: Back to the really real world, to see how bad we've screwed things up!
Eventually the winds died down, and everyone tumbled to a standstill. They picked themselves up and dusted off the hot, dry sleep-sand that surrounded them. They were in a vast desert, featureless except for a few tall trees with human hands at the ends of the branches, gently waving in the breeze. Although all still shaken by their recent experience, somehow their presence in this strange dimension gave them a sense of strength, as if they weren’t just themselves, but a purer, more idealized version of themselves. They felt healthy and refreshed, and Kyle, Lanara and Tolly noticed that their spell energy, which had been nearly depleted in the battle with Meeranda, was restored to its full potential.
“Where are we now?” Lanara asked, pouring sand out of her boot.
“Does it matter?” grumbled Kyle.
“He’s right,” Osborn said. “If we are in the Dream Realm, then it’s not that important where we are, just how we get back home.”
“Wait,” said Autumn suddenly, “where’s Arrie?”
They looked around, and saw that the warrior was nowhere to be seen. Instead, one of Aran’s dromites greeted their gaze – they recognized him as Tek, the dromite who often assisted Aran at his home. It wore a two-bladed sword made of crystal across its back.
Autumn ran over and grabbed the dromite by its shoulders. “Where is my sister?”
Tek looked at her calmly, its mandibles twitching slightly. “Your clutch-mate is with my clutch-mates. They are trapped in the Nightmare.”
“How do they get out?” Autumn asked.
“They do not. We must retrieve them.”
“If we go there, will we get trapped as well?”
“Does it matter?” Tolly asked.
“No, but I want to know,” Autumn replied.
“Come on!” said Lanara. “Let’s go! It’ll make a great story.” Kyle rolled his eyes behind her.
Autumn turned her attention back to Tek. “Do you know the way?”
Tek looked around for a while, studying the near-featureless terrain. “This way,” it said, pointing in what looked like a random direction.
“I do have discern location prepared,” Tolly said. “We could find Arrie easily.”
“Save it,” Kyle said. “Let the dromite lead us first. If we get lost, then you can use the spell. It’s pointless to waste resources that aren’t needed.”
The Legacy walked through the desert, following Tek across the landscape. Occasionally strange creatures would be seen in the distance, or flying overhead.
Lanara glanced down at Osborn, who was astride Rupert, and did a double take. “Where did you get that?” she asked. She pointed to a prominent holy symbol of Ladta hanging at Osborn’s belt.
“It happened during the sandstorm,” he said. “I felt Ladta’s presence in my mind, and she offered me the chance to become one of her priests. I accepted, and this symbol formed out of the sands.”
“So, does this mean you’re going to become another stick-up-your-butt cleric like Tolly?”
“Gods, no! Ladtan clerics are much more relaxed than Ardarans. We don’t even have sticks.”
“Well, good,” Lanara said, “especially since as far as we know, Ladtan priests may be the only kind left when we get back.”
“Ardara is not dead,” Tolly said to them both. “I still feel her presence, though it is not the same as it was.”
“Unless it’s just your own mind projecting the ideal of Ardara into the Dream Realm,” Kyle said, “and all you’re feeling is a lingering memory of a subconscious longing.”
With no real response to this sobering thought, they continued on in silence.
They traveled for some amount of time; they found it was impossible to determine time or distance here. Eventually, Tek stopped the party, and pointed up to a bank of clouds. “The Nightmare Realm is there,” it said.
“How do we get up there?” Lanara asked. “Fly?”
Tek shook its head. “Dream does not work that way. You must all travel the same path or become lost, and the method is as important as the destination. We must build a fire, and then ascend the smoke.”
Tolly looked around at the flat desert surrounding them. “There’s not much here to burn.”
Tek’s antennae twitched, and he focused on the sand at their feet. Slowly, the sand shifted, and swirled, and rose up from the ground. The sand changed into the form of a large wooden armoire; the party recognized it as an armoire that they’d seen inside Aran’s manor. Lanara opened it, and saw that it was full of clothing, though it was all very oddly shaped and colored.
“This is the object in which the master keeps his…” the dromite seemed to struggle for the word, “cloth drapings.”
“Odd taste,” Lanara commented, holding up a shirt with uneven sleeves and over a hundred buttons on the front.
“It’s probably Tek’s perception of what human clothing is,” Kyle said. “The armoire was created through his own force of will.”
They quickly set about smashing the armoire to kindling and building a fire from the wood and cloth inside. Osborn soaked the pile in oil, and Kyle ignited it with a quick spell. Soon they had a roaring fire going, and smoke curled high up into the sky. As they watched, the smoke began to form into a narrow, winding staircase.
Tek looked around at the group, and pointed at Tolly. “You falling would be unpleasant. Let us go last.”
They began to climb up the smoke ladder. Osborn, Lanara, and Autumn had little trouble with the climb, and were soon far up in the sky. Tolly, near the back, was most of the way up when his foot slipped off the edge and he fell, though thanks to his ring of feather falling his descent was slowed. Autumn, hearing his cry, immediately spread her wings and swooped down, catching the priest and helping him back to the staircase. Kyle, looking down as Autumn smiled at something he said to her, watched them slowly loop around toward the stair, and then he turned and began walking again, choosing his footing carefully.
There was only one other mishap when Kupa, the copper dragon, slipped off the stairs, but he recovered in midair and swooped back to the staircase easily. Soon enough, they all went into the clouds overhead. At first the clouds seemed light and wispy, but as they climbed the sky grew dark, as though night were falling, and soon it felt as though they were ascending into the heart of a violent thunderhead.
Suddenly, everything around them changed, as quickly as if transitioning from one kind of dream to another. They all found themselves in a tunnel, leading off into the distance. The walls were made of stone, but it looked as though it had been shaped or carved to resemble a living creature’s gullet or intestinal tract. Although there was no visible source of light anywhere, none of them had any problems seeing.
“I don’t believe I care for this realm,” Tolly muttered. He felt uneasy here, even though his inquisitorial training had rendered him immune to the effects of fear. Looking around, he could see the same apprehension on the faces of the others.
“We go this way,” Tek said, pointing down the corridor. “The way will be guarded by nightmares.” Strangely, as soon as Tek said it, they all knew this was true, even though there was no sign of anything living other than themselves.
They walked along the corridor until they emerged into a large, spherical chamber. A number of passageways exactly like the one they were in led off from the chamber in all directions; left, right, up, down. When they stepped out into the chamber, they learned that regardless of where they stood, gravity always pulled them toward the floor. Osborn was able to walk up and stand directly over Tolly without discomfort. The only inexplicable part was that they’d all known, before even coming into the room, that this was exactly how it would work.
Tek pointed to one of the passageways. “That one shows signs of being used. Our clutch-mates are beyond.” Tek’s antennae quivered. “We will have to face the First Guardian before we can proceed.”
“Why?” Autumn asked. “If this is a dream realm, why not just think up a shortcut and get to Arrie and the other dromites? Why couldn’t they just think up their own escape?”
“Because this isn’t a realm of Thoughts,” Lanara said. “It’s a realm of Ideals. It’s not just the reflection of the dreams that we all have when we’re asleep, but of our deepest conceptions of who we are and how the world works. That’s why we all feel more… well, more perfect here. We aren’t just ourselves, we’re idealized versions of ourselves. But part of our self-concept is that of being heroes. And everyone knows that what heroes do is face increasing adversity in order to gain their reward. So unfortunately, as much as I’d like an easy solution, I think that we will have to face this First Guardian, and then one more powerful after than, and another after that, and so on until we’ve ‘earned’ the right to free Arrie and the others. Whatever we end up facing, it’s likely that it will be drawn out of our own worst fears and insecurities.”
“Wow,” Osborn said. “That’s the kind of thing I’d expect Kyle to say.”
“I have my moments,” Lanara said with a grin. “In a lot of ways, dream-logic and story-logic are very similar.”
They proceeded down the corridor, which seemed identical to the one they had entered from. However, they saw that it ended in a large chamber, featureless except for the creature at the far wall. It appeared to be a mass of six large, white, snake-like creatures emerging from a pit of blackness in the wall; despite the multiple heads, they sensed that it was a single creature. The eyeless creature seemed to be waiting patiently for them to enter the chamber.
“Very courteous of it,” Lanara said.
“We could just blast it from back here,” Autumn suggested, “but somehow I think that might be breaking the rules.”
They took a moment to prepare themselves, and then entered the chamber. The serpent heads lashed out as the party drew closer. Both Osborn and Kyle assaulted the creature with spells; Osborn with a fireball from a wand, and Kyle with arcs of lightning. Both spells rolled off the creature harmlessly, deflected by its resistance to magic. Spells from Tolly and Lanara also failed to affect the snake-beast. Autumn and Tek rushed in, weapons drawn, and succeeded where their companions had faltered, drawing streams of black ichor from the creature. In response, the heads snapped out at the dromite and the aasimar. Autumn was able to escape the creature, its many jaws closing around her displaced image, but Tek was lifted high into the air as the snaky appendages wrapped around it.
As Autumn continued to hack at the creature, and Osborn moved to get a better angle, Kyle moved beside Tolly and tried to bolster the spell the priest was casting, using his deep understanding of metamagic to boost the spell’s power. Kyle scowled as his mental exercises failed to have the desired effect, though the bear’s roar* spell that Tolly was casting still went off, tearing at the creature with sonic energy. A blast of acid from Kupa also caused it to recoil. But it was Autumn and her greataxe that felt the brunt of the creature’s wrath, as several of the heads dropped Tek and enveloped the sentinel. But this proved a fatal miscalculation, for the dromite leapt to the attack, its double-bladed sword whirling. Tek seemed well trained in how to combat such strange monstrosities, as every blow seemed to cause it great pain. Between Tek’s ferocity, and the many daggers that Osborn threw, the last heads soon collapsed. From the center of the blackness in the center of the twitching mass, they all saw a huge, fanged maw screaming in rage and pain, and then suddenly it dissolved, the creature dissipating into shadow.
Tolly quickly went around with a healing wand, taking care of injuries. He healed Autumn first, and then tapped Tek, closing up the few wounds it had. Tek looked curiously at the wand.
“It is a stick,” it said.
“It is a blessed stick,” Tolly explained. Tek shook its head.
“Crystal is so nuch easier to empower,” it said.
As the darkness lifted, it revealed an enormous set of unadorned iron doors in the far wall. The doors opened, and suddenly everyone was pulled forward rapidly through it. They found themselves in a room, exactly like the one they had been in moments ago, standing in the exact spots they’d been in when the snake-creature had attacked.
“How original,” Lanara said.
The air at the back of the room shimmered, and a creature appeared. This time, instead of multiple snake-like heads, the creature resembled a black, rubbery tree made of flesh. Thick, stringy fungus was draped all over the creature, and about a dozen ‘branches’ swayed menacingly, each tipped with a single large eye. Three fanged maws slavered in the tree’s trunk, and its roots were a writhing mass of tentacles.
“Somebody out there is having some pretty messed up nightmares,” Autumn said.
“Probably a druid,” Kyle said, as he quickly cast a spell to boost his wife’s reflexes. She took immediate advantage, rushing forward and landing a devastating blow against the nightmare tree.
The branches shook, and beams of energy shot from the various eyes. The entire party was engulfed in cascading bolts of lightning that arced and sizzled between them. Another eye ray struck Kyle, who was knocked senseless. Yet another ray intercepted the resonating bolt spell that Lanara was casting at the tree, reflecting it back at the bard. Lanara cried out in pain as her own spell struck her. Tolly and Kupa rushed in, flailing against the waving branches, but the thick, wiry fungus draping the tree proved difficult to penetrate.
Autumn continued to chop at the tree, but she noticed that the head of her greataxe would sometime become insubstantial when she brought it close to the tree, causing it to pass through the nightmare with little effect. Still, some blows did land true, so she persisted. Lanara’s bardic music bolstered their efforts as Autumn, Tolly, Tek and Kupa continued their assault. More eye rays shot out among the party, including another blast of lightning directed at the copper dragon, but a timely warning shouted by Lanara helped him avoid the bolt. Osborn’s daggers began piercing some of the deadly eyes, giving them all a reprieve. Finally, a solid blow from Tolly’s hammer succeeded in splitting the trunk, and with a horrific screech and a spray of sap-like blood, the creature began to dissipate.
As the creature dissolved, Kyle came out of his stupor. He looked at the rapidly decomposing tree, and sighed. “Naturally,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Lanara asked him.
“Never mind.”
Another iron door appeared behind the tree, and as before they found themselves pulled forward as the doors swung open. This time, however, they found themselves falling through what felt like an infinite void. After some immeasurable amount of time, they felt their feet come to rest on a solid surface, although they could still see nothing but inky blackness beneath their feet. They came to rest in a rough circle, and in the center of that circle rose a shuddering, glistening cone of jelly and slime. It was striated with veins of green and black, and a pair of burning red eyes floated in the mass. Glistening pseudopods extended in all directions, waving menacingly at the party. As soon as it appeared, they were all struck by a wave of pure maleficent power.
Weapons were drawn, and spells were cast. Kyle looked around, took a firm grip on his staff… and then stepped back, leaning on the staff, and watched, a resigned expression on his face.
The others were too busy to comment on this. The slime-beast flung a wad of greenish slime at Tek, which covered the dromite and rapidly began eating through its armor, clothing, and carapaced flesh. Fortunately, Tek was able to summon up some of his innate psionic power, and froze the slime with a cold ray emanating from its antenna.
Autumn blasted the slime creature with searing light from her eyes, while Kupa breathed a cloud of gas at it that would slow its responses - but the beast seemed largely unconcerned by these efforts. Osborn drew from his newly discovered faith to place a protective ward on himself, while Tolly took a more offensive approach and tried to imprison the beast, though the powerful spell had no effect, other than to draw the creature’s attention. Four thick pseudopods, dripping with acid, slammed into Tolly from several angles. The acid burned his flesh and his armor at the same time, and within seconds his plate mail fell away from his body in a jumbled heap of slag. A few daggers thrown by Osborn were similarly eaten away to nothing.
Autumn and Tek joined Tolly at close quarters, while Lanara tried fruitlessly to blast it with her spells. The slime creature’s magical protection proved as formidable as its physical defenses, and their efforts produced little noticeable effect.
Away from the scene of battle, Kyle surveyed the situation. He sighed, and cast a quick spell, which seemed to have no effect. But in that same instant of time, Tolly suddenly realized that his visible image had shifted and blurred, and Lanara suddenly realized that the dimension door spell in her ring of spell storing had somehow been replaced with an assay resistance spell. Both used the sudden change to their advantage, with Lanara now able to pierce some of the creature’s magical resistance to hit it with a resonating bolt, and Tolly was able to move into the fray and draw some of its fire.
The creature focused its rage on Kupa, as the copper dragon was both immune to the acidic fluids dripping from its pseudopods, and had managed to do significant damage with its teeth and claws. A pair of solid blows knocked the dragon aside, and for good measure it sent a glob of green slime at the dragon as well. Other tentacles struck Autumn and Tek, and they both watched in disbelief as their armor dissolved into nothing.
Another flurry of daggers struck the creature, and tore a hole in the glistening mass. Osborn saw a familiar hand suddenly protrude out from the wound, reaching and grasping.
“Arrie’s inside of it!” he shouted.
Hearing this, Autumn renewed her efforts, her jaw set in vicious determination as her axe bit into the creature. But as the axe slid into the acidic flesh, it began to warp and melt, and soon the sentinel was left with nothing but a sizzling metal stick in her hands. Another slap from a tentacle caught her on the head, and dissolved the magical tiara she wore as a symbol of her rulership of Vargex. Weaponless and armorless, she was forced to withdraw.
Tolly, now seriously wounded, paused long enough to throw his own maul to Autumn before healing his wounds, and then rushing over to heal the badly injured Kupa, whose scaled flesh had been eaten away by the green slime. Kyle reached out as Autumn went by and made her invisible, offering her some form of protection against the slime-beast’s attacks.
The creature was now dividing its attention between the three most dangerous opponents; Tek, Osborn, and Kupa. The dragon was knocked off his feet and sent sprawling, and then picked up in two pseudopods like a rag doll. Tek, whose crystalline sword appeared immune to the creature’s acid, used it to slice gobbets of ooze off the creature, while Osborn’s daggers were doing the same, although every blade he threw dissolved into nothingness. Another resonating bolt from Lanara caused the creature to recoil enough to give Autumn an opening to move in and strike. Unfortunately, when the maul connected the creature’s gelatinous body simply yielded to the blunt instrument, doing nothing except coating the maul in acid, which quickly ate it away to slag.
“Damn it!” Autumn cursed, as she drew an ordinary dagger.
The creature focused on keeping Osborn and Kupa off balance, so they couldn’t bring their full abilities to bear. A third successful resonating bolt from Lanara managed to tear enough of the creature away that one of Tek’s clutch-mates suddenly popped out, landing in a puddle of goo near Tek’s feet.
“Brothers!” Tek cried out, attacking the creature with renewed vigor, “I will free you!”
Tolly cast a spell to detect thought patterns, hoping to pinpoint where exactly in the creature he would find Arrie and the other dromites. He briefly touched the intellect of the slime-creature; just enough to know that continuing to examine it would lead to madness. He was about to pray for divine intervention to help rescue his friend, when suddenly a mucus-covered Ariadne appeared where Kyle had been standing moments before. Looking at the creature, Tolly saw a blue-robed arm emerging from its far side, close to where Autumn was fighting.
Fortunately, another series of attacks by Osborn and Tek managed to finally bring the creature down, and it exploded in a cascade of translucent slime and ichor. Kyle and the other dromites emerged from the pile, the wizard’s robes hanging in tatters around him and his buckler little more than a few slivers of wood.
“That was foolish,” Arrie said to Kyle. “What were you thinking?”
“Indeed,” Tolly added, “jumping into the midst of that monstrosity was rash.”
Kyle stared at the both of them. “Very well,” he said, “next time I’ll let you stay inside the acidic slime beast and die.” He turned and walked away, leaving Arrie to reunite with her sister and Tolly to tend to the wounded.
“Where’s Aran?” Arrie asked.
“We don’t know.” Autumn replied. “We lost him in the storm.”
“We should probably find him,” Lanara suggested.
“No,” Autumn said, “I need to find my god and protect him.”
Tek turned to face the aasimar. “We will search for the master,” it said. “And now that you are together again, you can find your way out of the Dream Realm.”
“Let me try to find Aran first,” Tolly offered. He sat down and performed the ritual for a discern location spell, but when he finished, Tolly frowned. “Nothing,” he said. “Which means he is either dead, or something very powerful is blocking the divination.”
“Aran himself is pretty powerful,” Arrie said. “He may be blocking your spell himself**. I suggest we not worry about Aran, and let the dromites take up the search while we return to our world. We have important things to do there.” Several of them nodded their heads at this, Kyle being a notable exception.
“I’m sure that Tek will contact us or other allies if they need help,” Arrie said. Tek nodded its agreement.
“Okay then,” Lanara said, “let’s get out of here. I’m ready to wake up.”
-----------------
* The actual spell name is lion's roar, from Spell Compendium, but since Ardara's totem animal is a bear, I figured this would be the version he received.
** Although the description of discern location says that only deific level intervention can block it, in this game certain epic-level effects can do it as well. So this could simply be Aran protecting himself with an epic version of psionic mind blank. Of course, he could also be dead, or have been captured by other epic-level psions who are capable of masking his location. Only time will tell...
Next time: Back to the really real world, to see how bad we've screwed things up!
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voodoothng
First Post
Hi there!! Player of Osborn here.
Just wanted to throw something out there for all you loyal readers. When it comes to the point about the roll for keeping the holy relic. The final roll to keep it was a percentile and I had to roll 100%, so I was as suprised as everyone else when I made it. So yes Delemental Is quite correct with saying it was Osborns night as far as luck was concerned. Ultimately this is what led me to the decision to take a level of Cleric.
Just wanted to throw something out there for all you loyal readers. When it comes to the point about the roll for keeping the holy relic. The final roll to keep it was a percentile and I had to roll 100%, so I was as suprised as everyone else when I made it. So yes Delemental Is quite correct with saying it was Osborns night as far as luck was concerned. Ultimately this is what led me to the decision to take a level of Cleric.
Delemental
First Post
voodoothng said:
And OOC, Silko is apparently pretty PO'ed about it. See, us saving Ladta means that Silko's restoration isn't 100% complete. I'm sure all sorts of unpleasantness is in store for us because of this.
Blarkon Dragonslayer
First Post
I have faith in you guys' ability to deal with the situation. And I can't say enough about how excellent your play seems to have been. (Not to mention your luck )
)
Delemental
First Post
Nightmares Among Us
As the last slimy, putrid remnants of the aberration they had defeated melted at their feet and slowly dissipated into the Dream Realm, Lanara turned to her friends.
“Do you think that staircase is still waiting for us?”
“Probably not,” Kyle said. “The fire died long ago.” He turned to look at Arrie. “Nice to have you back.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s good not being dead.” There was an unusual calmness in her demeanor - a reserved, even resigned sense that stood out as unusual in the warrior.
Kyle’s answer was slow in coming. “Sure.”
“It’s amazing how morbid you can be in just one word, Kyle,” was Arrie’s response.
“I don’t think you were ever actually dead,” Tolly pointed out.
“No, I meant it was unpleasant being slowly digested.”
“He’s just cranky that he has to go without his armor,” Lanara pointed out.
“Several of us have that problem right now,” Autumn said, as she pulled her own cloak around her shoulders in memory of the armor that was once there. Arrie, who’d been exposed to the acid for far longer, was down to little more than her clothing, and even then had to be somewhat careful how she moved to avoid unnecessary exposure.
“Well, nothing we can do about that here or now,” Arrie said. “So how do we go about waking up?”
“It’s not that simple,” Kyle said. “We were gated here by Aran. We’re not in the Dream Realm as we normally would be, with our bodies in Aelfenn and our minds perceiving events here. We can’t just ‘wake up’.”
“Maybe those dromites could help,” Osborn offered. But as they turned, they realized that Tek and his clutch-mates had left some time ago.
“It’s possible I could use a miracle to plane shift us away,” Tolly said.
“If it even works the same here,” Lanara said.
“I think we’ll need to find our way out the hard way,” Kyle said.
“Are you sure we can’t just wake up?” Arrie sighed. Autumn reached over and pinched Kyle.
“Ouch!”
“Are you awake?”
Kyle sighed. “Unfortunately.”
Autumn shrugged. “That didn’t work.”
“We simply need to apply the rules of the Realm,” Lanara said, “and find something useful to get us out of here.” She produced one of her bags of holding, and began rummaging around in it. “No, a map of Haran water holes won’t help… oh, there’s that thunderstone… no…”
“I don’t think the answer lies in looking through the stuff we brought with us,” Kyle said. “In a dream, if you need something you just have it. If you need to go somewhere, you just get there. We’re thinking too logically about this.”
“You’re saying we need to be illogical to escape?” Tolly asked. He turned to Arrie. “Lead us out of here.”
The warrior smiled at him. “Aran did tell us to head for somewhere familiar if we got lost. Since nothing that’s actually here is familiar, maybe he meant…” Arrie turned and stared off into the blackness surrounding them. Suddenly, she laughed.
“There it is,” se said, pointing off into space. “See it?”
“See what?” Tolly asked.
“The path leading to Vargas,” she said.
They all looked off in the direction Arrie pointed. Slowly, each of them perceived what Arrie had – a well-worn path leading toward the silhouette of Autumn’s ducal city. Kyle took the longest time to see it.
“You have to stop thinking about it,” Arrie suggested. “Don’t look for it, just know it will be there.”
“It’s not exactly the easiest thing for a wizard to ‘stop thinking’,” he grumbled.
When all of them could see the path, they made their way toward the path. As they traveled, they noticed that everything around them was starting to seem more solid, more real. They also noticed, with no small amount of elation, that the armor and weapons they’d lost to the slime-nightmare seemed to be reforming themselves as they walked, appearing first as wispy, translucent shapes, and slowly coalescing into more solid forms.
Suddenly, there was a sudden snap in their perception, and they found themselves standing on the very real main road to a very real Vargas, about a half-mile outside the city. They knew the scene was real, because they certainly would not have wanted to see what was before them.
Columns of smoke rose from several places inside the city. The road was thick with fleeing citizens, taking only what they could carry. At the city’s eastern walls, three enormous monstrosities were battering their way into the city, surrounded by several units of Vargas’ militia. The creatures, who stood over twenty feet tall, were vaguely reminiscent of minotaurs, but had heads that resembled bison rather than bulls, and were far more massively built. Stranger still, the creatures were covered in waving cilia instead of hair, and an odd tentacle or two protruded from their bodies.
“Those look like goristro…” Kyle said.
“But something’s been… done to them,” Tolly finished.
“I don’t see any other Tauric troops,” Arrie said, using her psicrown to fly a few feet up for a better look. “I think it’s just those three things.”
“Osborn!” Autumn barked, instantly falling into command mode. “I need to know the situation inside the city, and a damage report.”
“I’m on it,” the hin said. He paused only long enough for Kyle to read off a quick haste spell from a scroll, and then leapt atop Rupert and sped off toward Vargas.
“I’m going over there to take charge of the troops battling those two,” Autumn said, pointing toward a mass melee near the northeastern corner of the city. “I trust the rest of you can deal with the third.” Spreading her wings, Autumn was aloft and flying toward her forces before anyone else could say a word.
Tolly, Kyle, and Lanara cast a few preparatory spells as quickly as they could. “Demons are normally vulnerable to cold iron, and axiomatic weapons,” Tolly told Arrie as he suddenly transformed into living iron. “And I have a spell I need to cast on you just before we engage the creature, so resist the urge to run off for a moment or two.” Kyle then read a teleportation spell from a scroll, and they were suddenly just outside the walls. The goristro had smashed through the outer walls, and was now rampaging in the streets of Vargas. Several soldiers had formed up around it and were trying to form a defense, but their weapons were largely ineffective, and the mutated demon was battering soldiers aside left and right. One elf-touched soldier’s corpse was still wrapped in a tentacle protruding from the goristro’s leg.
“Time’s wasting,” Arrie said to Tolly.
The Ardaran cast a fortunate fate spell on Arrie just before she flew off at full speed, shaping Anyweapon into a greatspear as she flew at the goristro. Her initial attack missed, but she flew in front of one of the units of troops attacking the beast, simultaneously bolstering their spirits and putting herself between them and the demon.
Kupa swooped in and blasted the demon with a cone of gas, but it seemed unaffected by the vapors. The goristro reached out and slapped aside Arrie for her impudence in challenging him, but she weathered the blow. She and the tentacled beast exchanged blows as the rest of the Legacy moved in to help. Arrie noted with some annoyance that the goristro seemed to be surrounded by some sort of aura that was decreasing the effectiveness of her strikes.
Music rang out across the battlefield, inspiring all of the soldiers in the battle as the famous bard Lanara appeared on a nearby rooftop. They also heard Autumn’s voice ringing out across the city, rallying her troops to battle. But the Duchess’ words were drowned out by a loud, low rumble and the sound of falling rubble, a sound Tolly recognized as the effects of an earthquake spell. Gritting his teeth, he renewed his efforts to scramble over the rubble of the wall and get to the battle. His enlarged form pushed through the crowds of fleeing citizens and rounded a corner to get his first good look at the melee.
Kyle, flying overhead thanks to the metallic wings on his back, pointed at the demon and attempted to disintegrate it, but the creature resisted the spell’s power, despite having a large chunk of its ribcage dissolved. Lanara blasted it with a triple-hit with her rod of many wands, but the rays scattered and fizzled out when they made contact. Kupa claw and slapped at the goristro ferociously, but most of its attacks barely penetrated the strange protective layer, and what little damage the dragon had done quickly healed over. Then his master, Tolly, suddenly appeared behind the demon and slammed his hammer into its leg. The leg buckled, but the damage wasn’t as much as it should have been.
“This isn’t working very well!” Arrie shouted at him from the other side of the creature.
Tolly was about to reply, but the goristro turned and stared at him, and he suddenly vanished. He found himself in a strange, twisted labyrinth fashioned from his own worst nightmares. Slowly he began to try and figure out how to escape – the maze followed no logical pattern, so he was forced to rely more on intuition and instinct even as the horrific images around him began to eat away at his sanity.
Kupa blasted the beast with his acidic breath to little effect, and Lanara’s own spells were being deflected with ease by the demon’s magical resistance. With Tolly still nowhere to be seen, and with the goristro getting the upper hand in its brutal exchanges with Arrie, Kyle realized that he couldn’t let up now, even though he knew that nothing he could do would matter much. Perhaps I can distract it long enough for Arrie to get in a good blow before it kills me, he thought dejectedly.
He landed at the demon’s feet; he was far too close to be safe, but he’d have to be close or else he would hit the city’s troops. Kyle hit the goristro with a prismatic spray, but it ignored the effects of the green ray that struck it and kept coming after Arrie and Kupa. Naturally, he thought. With little else left in his repertoire, Kyle decided to make one last-ditch effort before he was inevitably crushed or incapacitated by some strange power. He first unleashed his adamantine wings spell in a burst of razor sharp shards, which cut and sliced at the goristro’s flesh, squirming cilia falling away like shorn wool. With the monstrosity distracted, Kyle threw a last desperate spell before bracing himself for the demon’s retribution.
There was a sudden silence. “Well, at least this time it didn’t hurt,” Kyle said quietly. Then he realized that he’d spoken aloud, something difficult to do if he were dead. Slowly, he looked up. Towering above him was a massive stone statue of the mutated goristro. Cheers began to erupt all around him.
“It worked,” Kyle said, slightly stunned. “It actually worked.”
Seconds later, Tolly reappeared in the same place he’d been when he vanished. He paused for a moment to consider the petrified demon, and then began slamming his maul into its leg, knocking away huge chunks of stone.
Arrie came up carefully behind him. “Um, Tolly, dear…”
“Let me finish with the anger,” he said. He got in another solid blow, then lowered his weapon. “Now, what do we kill?”
“Try healing Arrie first,” Lanara suggested. Tolly took a look at the badly wounded warrior, and then cast his healing spells. Another burst of magic closed up Kupa’s wounds as well.
“I think my sister will need a little extra help with the other two,” Arrie said, already rising into the air.
“I’m going to be giant-sized and made of iron for at least five more minutes,” Tolly said. “I can think of nothing better to do.”
“Coming, you two?” Arrie asked.
“Yeah…” Kyle said, still surprised by his success. “Sure.” He started running alongside Tolly down the street toward the other battle, following the flying Arrie.
Lanara waited until they were out of sight before she walked over to the half-shattered remains of a tavern, and rummaged around in the debris until she located an unbroken cask of ale. Sighing, she pierced the side with a dagger, produced a silver ewer from her bag, and filled it with the foamy brew.
* * *
It was Kyle and Arrie who found Lanara several hours later, sitting quietly by herself in a corner of a tavern, several empty mugs surrounding her.
“So, something’s going on,” Arrie said, sitting down next to her.
“Just a big, fat sense of feeling useless,” the cansin replied.
“Why do you feel useless?” she asked.
“Well, nothing I’ve done in the past several battles has done sh*t to anything except make you guys fight better. It gets a little dull.”
“You’ve never expressed interest in being more involved in battle before,” Kyle said.
“I don’t necessarily want to get messy, but I’d like to have some major effect on whatever it is we’re fighting, so that maybe you guys don’t take so many damned hits.” She turned to Kyle. “Watching you get your head blown off wasn’t a good time. Watching Arrie crawling out of some bizarre tentacled glob was not fun.”
“Trust me, Lanara,” Kyle said, “I know what it feels like to think you’re not pulling your own weight. I haven’t exactly been very effective myself recently – today being an exception. I don’t know if we’ve just had a run of bad luck or if it’s just that we’re now facing very different types of opposition than we did before, and we haven’t fully adapted to that yet.”
Arrie was silent for a moment. “I guess the crux of your problem is that you don’t feel like you’re having an effect in battle. It’s understandable in a sense, because you’re not in there hacking things to bits or blasting them. But who has the biggest impact in a battle? The one who strikes the killing blow, or the one who battered down the enemy’s defenses to allow that last blow to fall? We all contribute to our success, sometimes more, sometimes less. The fact that you can…”
“Sing,” Lanara interrupted flatly.
“… that you can make all of us, not just one, but all of us, hit harder and swing faster is important. You don’t strike any blows, but you don’t need to. Think of us as your instruments, and the tune you are playing is the death of our enemies.”
Lanara sighed. “It’s a lovely metaphor, but I’m growing tired of playing the same tune over and over. It gets boring.”
“Don’t you think I ever grow tired of just hitting things until they stop moving?” Arrie asked.
“At least you can change what you’re hitting them with.”
Arrie and Kyle looked at each other. This was going nowhere, and Lanara was in no condition to really accept constructive advice. Kyle, in particular, knew where her thoughts were drifting, and knew it would take more than words to shake her out of it. All of them, he suspected, had been shaken by the events in the underground temple, and were questioning their very understanding of themselves and their world.
“Perhaps we’ll work this out another time,” Kyle said. “Just know that we respect what you do for us and that you’re in there trying, even if it does get a little monotonous, and feels like nothing really works. But if you’re interested, we do have something a little more up your alley to do.”
Lanara looked up blearily.
“Obviously, some major things have happened while we were crawling around in tunnels and having waking dreams,” Arrie said. “We need information about what’s going on. There’s all kinds of crazy rumors floating around out there. Autumn has arranged for us to meet up at her manor in a few days to give us all a chance to talk to who we know and get the truth of what’s happened since Silko’s return.”
“This… this I can do.”
“And no one does it better. I’d suggest you sober up first, though.”
Lanara sighed in amusement. “You take all the fun out of everything.”
* * *
Several days later the Legacy gathered around the large table in Autumn’s war room. Autumn sat at the head of the table, with Kyle to her left and Arrie sitting unusually close on her right. “So, unfortunately I’ve been too busy with putting my city and my duchy back together to get much news from the outside. I figured we could all use an update on what’s happened since Silko’s return.” She turned to Arrie. “What news from the Empire?”
“Well, contrary to some rumors, both Haxtha and Herion are still alive, and the Empire still stands. But some of the noble families are taking advantage of the chaos to advance their position. They’re not going after the Imperial Family, but some nobles are looking to gain status by hook or by crook – or in this case, by stiletto. You need to watch your back, Autumn.”
“Good to know,” Autumn sighed. “Not that I needed to have to watch my back as well as my front.”
“As far as the rest of the Alliance, the biggest news is Targeth’s status. There’s very little information coming out of there, but it’s known that their shield has failed.”
It was an incredible bit of news, and they took a moment to absorb it.
“There’s more,” Lanara said at last. “There are rumors going around that the Tower has fallen, and even that the entire city of Trageon collapsed on itself and was destroyed. No one’s heard anything from the archmages.”
“I tried scrying the Tower when I heard the rumors,” Kyle said. “All I got was indistinct, fuzzy images. The fact that I got that much confirms that the shield is really down.”
“What could have caused this?” Autumn asked.
“It seems that the Nodes are failing,” Tolly said. “Trageon sits upon the most powerful known Node on the continent, and its power was key to maintaining the structural integrity of the Tower as well as keeping the islands of Upper Trageon aloft.”
“It’s likely that the archmages are either dead, or may be devoting their full attention to keeping the Tower upright,” Kyle said. “Either way, they’re out of commission.”
“Okay,” Autumn said. “Lanara, how goes the war?”
“On hold for now,” Lanara reported. “The Taurics have stopped pressing their attack, and we’re under a sort of cease fire. According to intelligence reports, the Taurics are claiming that they were being mind-controlled into being the aggressors. Now, we all know that’s the truth, but it isn’t being given a lot of credence by the Alliance. But the Taurics seem to be having just as much trouble with nasty tentacled beasties as our side, so the truce is in effect so that each side can deal with that problem. I was able to get in touch with one of my sources on the other side, and he confirmed that much. He wouldn’t say what the Tauric command was planning to do after they dealt with the monsters, though.”
“Some thumbscrews and a hot poker would have solved that problem,” Kyle muttered. Tolly raised an eyebrow at the comment but said nothing.
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about Taurics for a while,” Osborn commented.
“Oh, and in one bit of good news, it seems that before the cease fire, the orcs did in fact attack the Tauric forces as planned,” Lanara added. “So it seems that whatever nasty bit of treachery Grabâkh had planned, it wasn’t something that he included his people in.”
“Thank Ardara,” Tolly said, “now I can take ‘smite Keth’ off of my list of things to do.”
Autumn turned to Tolly. “What’s the situation with the gods?”
“According to the Divine Council in M’Dos, all of the gods save Ladta are now bound in mortal form to Aelfenn. The connection between the gods and their priests still exists, so we are still granted spells. The Council has confirmed that all of the Many are here on Affon, though naturally their exact locations were not given. Grabâkh is known to be in the Haran Desert, and the locations of Feesha, Ardara, and Krûsh are unknown, though given their natures it’s assumed they are somewhere in the sky, in the earth, and in the water, respectively.”
“What about Erito?” Autumn asked. “It seems important that we find her.”
“By all accounts, Erito is here, but is on the move. She is seen in one place, stays for a short time, and then moves on. There is no apparent pattern to her movements.”
“She could be trying to stay a step ahead of Silko,” Osborn suggested. “I’m sure he’d love to take out arcane magic.”
“She may also be trying to repair the fluctuation in the Nodes,” Tolly suggested.
“Speaking of which,” Autumn said, “Kyle, what’s happening with all these strange creatures?”
“Well, my initial suspicions were correct,” Kyle said. “I spoke with several farmers who described large areas that have become warped and twisted regions. There are two such regions within Vargas itself. It seems that the Dream Realm has somehow impinged itself upon the physical world, creating these overlapping areas. The strange creatures, like those bizarre goristro, came out of portals from these areas.”
“That explains why they were so hard to hurt,” Tolly said, “they’re not fully real.”
“Real enough,” Kyle said. “I’m pretty sure that weapons enchanted to affect incorporeal creatures will affect these dream-creatures in the same way. The good news is that not all of these overlaid areas correspond to portions of the Nightmare Realm. One of the areas in Vargas is definitely hostile, and I’ve had work started on walling it off. The other is fairly benign.”
“What is its nature?” Tolly asked.
Kyle blushed. “Well, it seems that it corresponds to a region of the Dream Realm that contains dreams of a more… erotic nature.”
Lanara smiled. “Kyle’s been picking flowers in the Fields of Love.”
“Fields of Love?” Autumn asked.
“It’s the name the locals have given the area,” Lanara explained. “You might want to wall off that one too, just so you can charge admission.”
Autumn looked at Kyle. “And you were inside this area?”
“I was studying it. I didn’t know about the effects until I was inside.”
Autumn nodded. “So that explains how you were the other night.”
“But anyway,” Kyle said, “there’s more. It seems the workings of magic have been altered. Reports are coming in that occasionally spells will misfire; some are reduced in potency, others are increased, and some have effects that are completely random. It’s likely related to the instability in the Nodes is causing this. The best guess is that roughly three to five percent of spells being cast are affected. It’s not clear to me yet if this extends to innate abilities like Talents or racial magics, or if it affects more permanent magics that were placed before Silko’s return. I also can’t say for sure if this is affecting divine or nature magic, though since the source of both of those is here on this planet, it could very well be the case.”
“More good news for our side,” Lanara groaned.
“It’s a lot worse for others,” Osborn said. “I’ve been checking with the locals and civilians in other areas. There are a lot of refugees south of the front lines, and there’s not enough food to go around. Between the land captured by the Taurics, the crops and livestock that were stolen by refugees, and the areas of land lost to these dream overlays, the farmers are having a pretty tough time. I’ve heard reports from villages in and near Targeth that there are a lot of people coming out of Trageon. So many that several villages have had to barricade themselves off to keep them out. If something doesn’t change soon, people are going to start starving.”
“There’s been a lot of suffering out there,” Autumn said. “I’ve had reports from Auror and Togusa on the status of things here in the duchy. Our military forces have had about forty percent casualties, and we’ve lost about a quarter of our civilian population.”
“At least that’s fewer people to go hungry,” Tolly said bitterly.
“I could throw a good plague into the city to make sure the food goes farther,” Kyle said.
Autumn just stared at him, at first convinced he was trying to make another one of his poor jokes, but realizing that, while not entirely serious, he wasn’t making the comment for laughs. She’d never heard anything so cruel come out of his mouth before. He’s just tired, Autumn thought. We’re all tired, and Bail help us, there’s no rest coming.
“There is some good news,” Osborn said. “The war profiteering that I’ve managed to get access to through various thieves’ guilds has given me access to a lot of loose capital, which we can send where we need it.”
“What other steps can we take now to help?” Autumn asked.
“We need to be able to deal with the problem of these dream creatures,” Kyle said, “and prepare in the event the Taurics get aggressive again. I’d suggest we spread the word to the wizards in the Alliance that those with skill in alchemy should work on producing as much ghost oil as possible. With magic unreliable, and with properly enchanted weapons in short supply, it’s the best chance we have.”
“I also think we should have people working on mass-producing those firearms that we found in Targeth,” Arrie said. “They’re not terribly efficient compared to magic, but in a world where everyone’s going to be hesitant to cast spells, they could come in handy.”
“We should also make sure the Alliance command understands that the Taurics’ claims of being controlled are true, to avoid unnecessary hostilities,” Tolly advised.
“There’s not much to be done about the food problem,” Osborn said. “I’ve spoken to some druids, and using their magic to accelerate crop growth would be a short-term solution. It would just put off the famine a few years. Besides, if what Kyle says is true, we might not want to rely on heavy use of nature magic.”
“So it seems,” Arrie said, “that now we have to decide what to do personally. I’d vote for finding Erito and keeping her safe.”
“I disagree,” Kyle said. “She may be stuck in a physical body, but she’s still a deity, and has plenty of her own power, as well as legions of eladrin and the faithful willing to die to defend her. Besides, playing defense for Erito means Silko and his bunch get to run around unmolested.”
“We could go check out Trageon, see if the rumors are true,” Lanara offered. “See if we can do anything to help, make sure there aren’t any dangerous artifacts just laying around in the rubble waiting to be picked up by the bad guys…”
“… do a little looting…” Kyle said quietly.
Lanara paused. “I’ll admit the thought of looking for some things that would help us out crossed my mind, Kyle, but since it wasn’t the main reason we’d be going, I thought I’d leave that out.”
“So, Kyle, do you have any suggestions?” Arrie inquired, “Or were you planning on just sitting there casting control weather every time we try and brainstorm?”
“Two things come to mind,” he said. “First, we know that the ritual that brought Silko back required him to drain the essence of all the gods, but one got away, thanks to Osborn.”
The hin smiled.
“Well, rather than trying to protect the deities he’s already drained, I think we should figure out how he intends to get to Ladta and stop him. I’m pretty sure he’s going to want to finish what he started.”
“Okay,” Arrie prompted, “what’s your second idea?”
“That we go on the offensive,” Kyle said. “We talked about it before, but never had the chance to implement our plan before we had to go on our little ‘secret mission’ to the desert. We find out where Silko’s people are and start picking them off. Put them on the defensive for a change.”
“A worthy idea,” Tolly said, “but with the functioning of magic uncertain, is mounting an attack wise?”
“Well, unfortunately, Tolly, it’s all I have, so I guess I’ll just deal with that, right?” Kyle snapped.
Autumn sighed. “Okay, look, we’ve had a hard time these past two weeks. We’re tired and not at our best. I think we should all get some rest, think about what we want to do, and come back here tomorrow and work out a plan.”
“I agree,” Osborn said. “After supper, then?”
They all rose and left the room, except for Kyle, who walked over to a window and looked out over the city, and Autumn, who also lingered. She came up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s bothering you, Kyle? Some of the things you were saying back there – thumb screws? Plagues? That’s not like you.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he said, not turning to look at her. “Doesn’t seem that being ‘like me’ has gotten us very far.”
“I thought you were over feeling like you weren’t contributing to the party,” Autumn said.
“It’s not that,” he said. “I’m having a hard time justifying to myself why I should care so much about being a decent person.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” Kyle pointed out across the city, to the region of Dream that was being walled off to protect the citizens from harm. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Autumn, but they’re winning. Look at what being honest and caring has gotten us. Look at what being deceitful, treacherous, murdering bastards has gotten them. I can’t help but wonder if we’d be in this position if we’d been willing to be just a little more ruthless.”
“Kyle,” Autumn said, tears in her eyes, “if we become like them, we’ve already lost, regardless of the outcome of any battle.”
Kyle sighed. “I hear your words,” he said, “but right now I’m not ready to believe them.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room in a swirl of blue robes.
As the last slimy, putrid remnants of the aberration they had defeated melted at their feet and slowly dissipated into the Dream Realm, Lanara turned to her friends.
“Do you think that staircase is still waiting for us?”
“Probably not,” Kyle said. “The fire died long ago.” He turned to look at Arrie. “Nice to have you back.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s good not being dead.” There was an unusual calmness in her demeanor - a reserved, even resigned sense that stood out as unusual in the warrior.
Kyle’s answer was slow in coming. “Sure.”
“It’s amazing how morbid you can be in just one word, Kyle,” was Arrie’s response.
“I don’t think you were ever actually dead,” Tolly pointed out.
“No, I meant it was unpleasant being slowly digested.”
“He’s just cranky that he has to go without his armor,” Lanara pointed out.
“Several of us have that problem right now,” Autumn said, as she pulled her own cloak around her shoulders in memory of the armor that was once there. Arrie, who’d been exposed to the acid for far longer, was down to little more than her clothing, and even then had to be somewhat careful how she moved to avoid unnecessary exposure.
“Well, nothing we can do about that here or now,” Arrie said. “So how do we go about waking up?”
“It’s not that simple,” Kyle said. “We were gated here by Aran. We’re not in the Dream Realm as we normally would be, with our bodies in Aelfenn and our minds perceiving events here. We can’t just ‘wake up’.”
“Maybe those dromites could help,” Osborn offered. But as they turned, they realized that Tek and his clutch-mates had left some time ago.
“It’s possible I could use a miracle to plane shift us away,” Tolly said.
“If it even works the same here,” Lanara said.
“I think we’ll need to find our way out the hard way,” Kyle said.
“Are you sure we can’t just wake up?” Arrie sighed. Autumn reached over and pinched Kyle.
“Ouch!”
“Are you awake?”
Kyle sighed. “Unfortunately.”
Autumn shrugged. “That didn’t work.”
“We simply need to apply the rules of the Realm,” Lanara said, “and find something useful to get us out of here.” She produced one of her bags of holding, and began rummaging around in it. “No, a map of Haran water holes won’t help… oh, there’s that thunderstone… no…”
“I don’t think the answer lies in looking through the stuff we brought with us,” Kyle said. “In a dream, if you need something you just have it. If you need to go somewhere, you just get there. We’re thinking too logically about this.”
“You’re saying we need to be illogical to escape?” Tolly asked. He turned to Arrie. “Lead us out of here.”
The warrior smiled at him. “Aran did tell us to head for somewhere familiar if we got lost. Since nothing that’s actually here is familiar, maybe he meant…” Arrie turned and stared off into the blackness surrounding them. Suddenly, she laughed.
“There it is,” se said, pointing off into space. “See it?”
“See what?” Tolly asked.
“The path leading to Vargas,” she said.
They all looked off in the direction Arrie pointed. Slowly, each of them perceived what Arrie had – a well-worn path leading toward the silhouette of Autumn’s ducal city. Kyle took the longest time to see it.
“You have to stop thinking about it,” Arrie suggested. “Don’t look for it, just know it will be there.”
“It’s not exactly the easiest thing for a wizard to ‘stop thinking’,” he grumbled.
When all of them could see the path, they made their way toward the path. As they traveled, they noticed that everything around them was starting to seem more solid, more real. They also noticed, with no small amount of elation, that the armor and weapons they’d lost to the slime-nightmare seemed to be reforming themselves as they walked, appearing first as wispy, translucent shapes, and slowly coalescing into more solid forms.
Suddenly, there was a sudden snap in their perception, and they found themselves standing on the very real main road to a very real Vargas, about a half-mile outside the city. They knew the scene was real, because they certainly would not have wanted to see what was before them.
Columns of smoke rose from several places inside the city. The road was thick with fleeing citizens, taking only what they could carry. At the city’s eastern walls, three enormous monstrosities were battering their way into the city, surrounded by several units of Vargas’ militia. The creatures, who stood over twenty feet tall, were vaguely reminiscent of minotaurs, but had heads that resembled bison rather than bulls, and were far more massively built. Stranger still, the creatures were covered in waving cilia instead of hair, and an odd tentacle or two protruded from their bodies.
“Those look like goristro…” Kyle said.
“But something’s been… done to them,” Tolly finished.
“I don’t see any other Tauric troops,” Arrie said, using her psicrown to fly a few feet up for a better look. “I think it’s just those three things.”
“Osborn!” Autumn barked, instantly falling into command mode. “I need to know the situation inside the city, and a damage report.”
“I’m on it,” the hin said. He paused only long enough for Kyle to read off a quick haste spell from a scroll, and then leapt atop Rupert and sped off toward Vargas.
“I’m going over there to take charge of the troops battling those two,” Autumn said, pointing toward a mass melee near the northeastern corner of the city. “I trust the rest of you can deal with the third.” Spreading her wings, Autumn was aloft and flying toward her forces before anyone else could say a word.
Tolly, Kyle, and Lanara cast a few preparatory spells as quickly as they could. “Demons are normally vulnerable to cold iron, and axiomatic weapons,” Tolly told Arrie as he suddenly transformed into living iron. “And I have a spell I need to cast on you just before we engage the creature, so resist the urge to run off for a moment or two.” Kyle then read a teleportation spell from a scroll, and they were suddenly just outside the walls. The goristro had smashed through the outer walls, and was now rampaging in the streets of Vargas. Several soldiers had formed up around it and were trying to form a defense, but their weapons were largely ineffective, and the mutated demon was battering soldiers aside left and right. One elf-touched soldier’s corpse was still wrapped in a tentacle protruding from the goristro’s leg.
“Time’s wasting,” Arrie said to Tolly.
The Ardaran cast a fortunate fate spell on Arrie just before she flew off at full speed, shaping Anyweapon into a greatspear as she flew at the goristro. Her initial attack missed, but she flew in front of one of the units of troops attacking the beast, simultaneously bolstering their spirits and putting herself between them and the demon.
Kupa swooped in and blasted the demon with a cone of gas, but it seemed unaffected by the vapors. The goristro reached out and slapped aside Arrie for her impudence in challenging him, but she weathered the blow. She and the tentacled beast exchanged blows as the rest of the Legacy moved in to help. Arrie noted with some annoyance that the goristro seemed to be surrounded by some sort of aura that was decreasing the effectiveness of her strikes.
Music rang out across the battlefield, inspiring all of the soldiers in the battle as the famous bard Lanara appeared on a nearby rooftop. They also heard Autumn’s voice ringing out across the city, rallying her troops to battle. But the Duchess’ words were drowned out by a loud, low rumble and the sound of falling rubble, a sound Tolly recognized as the effects of an earthquake spell. Gritting his teeth, he renewed his efforts to scramble over the rubble of the wall and get to the battle. His enlarged form pushed through the crowds of fleeing citizens and rounded a corner to get his first good look at the melee.
Kyle, flying overhead thanks to the metallic wings on his back, pointed at the demon and attempted to disintegrate it, but the creature resisted the spell’s power, despite having a large chunk of its ribcage dissolved. Lanara blasted it with a triple-hit with her rod of many wands, but the rays scattered and fizzled out when they made contact. Kupa claw and slapped at the goristro ferociously, but most of its attacks barely penetrated the strange protective layer, and what little damage the dragon had done quickly healed over. Then his master, Tolly, suddenly appeared behind the demon and slammed his hammer into its leg. The leg buckled, but the damage wasn’t as much as it should have been.
“This isn’t working very well!” Arrie shouted at him from the other side of the creature.
Tolly was about to reply, but the goristro turned and stared at him, and he suddenly vanished. He found himself in a strange, twisted labyrinth fashioned from his own worst nightmares. Slowly he began to try and figure out how to escape – the maze followed no logical pattern, so he was forced to rely more on intuition and instinct even as the horrific images around him began to eat away at his sanity.
Kupa blasted the beast with his acidic breath to little effect, and Lanara’s own spells were being deflected with ease by the demon’s magical resistance. With Tolly still nowhere to be seen, and with the goristro getting the upper hand in its brutal exchanges with Arrie, Kyle realized that he couldn’t let up now, even though he knew that nothing he could do would matter much. Perhaps I can distract it long enough for Arrie to get in a good blow before it kills me, he thought dejectedly.
He landed at the demon’s feet; he was far too close to be safe, but he’d have to be close or else he would hit the city’s troops. Kyle hit the goristro with a prismatic spray, but it ignored the effects of the green ray that struck it and kept coming after Arrie and Kupa. Naturally, he thought. With little else left in his repertoire, Kyle decided to make one last-ditch effort before he was inevitably crushed or incapacitated by some strange power. He first unleashed his adamantine wings spell in a burst of razor sharp shards, which cut and sliced at the goristro’s flesh, squirming cilia falling away like shorn wool. With the monstrosity distracted, Kyle threw a last desperate spell before bracing himself for the demon’s retribution.
There was a sudden silence. “Well, at least this time it didn’t hurt,” Kyle said quietly. Then he realized that he’d spoken aloud, something difficult to do if he were dead. Slowly, he looked up. Towering above him was a massive stone statue of the mutated goristro. Cheers began to erupt all around him.
“It worked,” Kyle said, slightly stunned. “It actually worked.”
Seconds later, Tolly reappeared in the same place he’d been when he vanished. He paused for a moment to consider the petrified demon, and then began slamming his maul into its leg, knocking away huge chunks of stone.
Arrie came up carefully behind him. “Um, Tolly, dear…”
“Let me finish with the anger,” he said. He got in another solid blow, then lowered his weapon. “Now, what do we kill?”
“Try healing Arrie first,” Lanara suggested. Tolly took a look at the badly wounded warrior, and then cast his healing spells. Another burst of magic closed up Kupa’s wounds as well.
“I think my sister will need a little extra help with the other two,” Arrie said, already rising into the air.
“I’m going to be giant-sized and made of iron for at least five more minutes,” Tolly said. “I can think of nothing better to do.”
“Coming, you two?” Arrie asked.
“Yeah…” Kyle said, still surprised by his success. “Sure.” He started running alongside Tolly down the street toward the other battle, following the flying Arrie.
Lanara waited until they were out of sight before she walked over to the half-shattered remains of a tavern, and rummaged around in the debris until she located an unbroken cask of ale. Sighing, she pierced the side with a dagger, produced a silver ewer from her bag, and filled it with the foamy brew.
* * *
It was Kyle and Arrie who found Lanara several hours later, sitting quietly by herself in a corner of a tavern, several empty mugs surrounding her.
“So, something’s going on,” Arrie said, sitting down next to her.
“Just a big, fat sense of feeling useless,” the cansin replied.
“Why do you feel useless?” she asked.
“Well, nothing I’ve done in the past several battles has done sh*t to anything except make you guys fight better. It gets a little dull.”
“You’ve never expressed interest in being more involved in battle before,” Kyle said.
“I don’t necessarily want to get messy, but I’d like to have some major effect on whatever it is we’re fighting, so that maybe you guys don’t take so many damned hits.” She turned to Kyle. “Watching you get your head blown off wasn’t a good time. Watching Arrie crawling out of some bizarre tentacled glob was not fun.”
“Trust me, Lanara,” Kyle said, “I know what it feels like to think you’re not pulling your own weight. I haven’t exactly been very effective myself recently – today being an exception. I don’t know if we’ve just had a run of bad luck or if it’s just that we’re now facing very different types of opposition than we did before, and we haven’t fully adapted to that yet.”
Arrie was silent for a moment. “I guess the crux of your problem is that you don’t feel like you’re having an effect in battle. It’s understandable in a sense, because you’re not in there hacking things to bits or blasting them. But who has the biggest impact in a battle? The one who strikes the killing blow, or the one who battered down the enemy’s defenses to allow that last blow to fall? We all contribute to our success, sometimes more, sometimes less. The fact that you can…”
“Sing,” Lanara interrupted flatly.
“… that you can make all of us, not just one, but all of us, hit harder and swing faster is important. You don’t strike any blows, but you don’t need to. Think of us as your instruments, and the tune you are playing is the death of our enemies.”
Lanara sighed. “It’s a lovely metaphor, but I’m growing tired of playing the same tune over and over. It gets boring.”
“Don’t you think I ever grow tired of just hitting things until they stop moving?” Arrie asked.
“At least you can change what you’re hitting them with.”
Arrie and Kyle looked at each other. This was going nowhere, and Lanara was in no condition to really accept constructive advice. Kyle, in particular, knew where her thoughts were drifting, and knew it would take more than words to shake her out of it. All of them, he suspected, had been shaken by the events in the underground temple, and were questioning their very understanding of themselves and their world.
“Perhaps we’ll work this out another time,” Kyle said. “Just know that we respect what you do for us and that you’re in there trying, even if it does get a little monotonous, and feels like nothing really works. But if you’re interested, we do have something a little more up your alley to do.”
Lanara looked up blearily.
“Obviously, some major things have happened while we were crawling around in tunnels and having waking dreams,” Arrie said. “We need information about what’s going on. There’s all kinds of crazy rumors floating around out there. Autumn has arranged for us to meet up at her manor in a few days to give us all a chance to talk to who we know and get the truth of what’s happened since Silko’s return.”
“This… this I can do.”
“And no one does it better. I’d suggest you sober up first, though.”
Lanara sighed in amusement. “You take all the fun out of everything.”
* * *
Several days later the Legacy gathered around the large table in Autumn’s war room. Autumn sat at the head of the table, with Kyle to her left and Arrie sitting unusually close on her right. “So, unfortunately I’ve been too busy with putting my city and my duchy back together to get much news from the outside. I figured we could all use an update on what’s happened since Silko’s return.” She turned to Arrie. “What news from the Empire?”
“Well, contrary to some rumors, both Haxtha and Herion are still alive, and the Empire still stands. But some of the noble families are taking advantage of the chaos to advance their position. They’re not going after the Imperial Family, but some nobles are looking to gain status by hook or by crook – or in this case, by stiletto. You need to watch your back, Autumn.”
“Good to know,” Autumn sighed. “Not that I needed to have to watch my back as well as my front.”
“As far as the rest of the Alliance, the biggest news is Targeth’s status. There’s very little information coming out of there, but it’s known that their shield has failed.”
It was an incredible bit of news, and they took a moment to absorb it.
“There’s more,” Lanara said at last. “There are rumors going around that the Tower has fallen, and even that the entire city of Trageon collapsed on itself and was destroyed. No one’s heard anything from the archmages.”
“I tried scrying the Tower when I heard the rumors,” Kyle said. “All I got was indistinct, fuzzy images. The fact that I got that much confirms that the shield is really down.”
“What could have caused this?” Autumn asked.
“It seems that the Nodes are failing,” Tolly said. “Trageon sits upon the most powerful known Node on the continent, and its power was key to maintaining the structural integrity of the Tower as well as keeping the islands of Upper Trageon aloft.”
“It’s likely that the archmages are either dead, or may be devoting their full attention to keeping the Tower upright,” Kyle said. “Either way, they’re out of commission.”
“Okay,” Autumn said. “Lanara, how goes the war?”
“On hold for now,” Lanara reported. “The Taurics have stopped pressing their attack, and we’re under a sort of cease fire. According to intelligence reports, the Taurics are claiming that they were being mind-controlled into being the aggressors. Now, we all know that’s the truth, but it isn’t being given a lot of credence by the Alliance. But the Taurics seem to be having just as much trouble with nasty tentacled beasties as our side, so the truce is in effect so that each side can deal with that problem. I was able to get in touch with one of my sources on the other side, and he confirmed that much. He wouldn’t say what the Tauric command was planning to do after they dealt with the monsters, though.”
“Some thumbscrews and a hot poker would have solved that problem,” Kyle muttered. Tolly raised an eyebrow at the comment but said nothing.
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about Taurics for a while,” Osborn commented.
“Oh, and in one bit of good news, it seems that before the cease fire, the orcs did in fact attack the Tauric forces as planned,” Lanara added. “So it seems that whatever nasty bit of treachery Grabâkh had planned, it wasn’t something that he included his people in.”
“Thank Ardara,” Tolly said, “now I can take ‘smite Keth’ off of my list of things to do.”
Autumn turned to Tolly. “What’s the situation with the gods?”
“According to the Divine Council in M’Dos, all of the gods save Ladta are now bound in mortal form to Aelfenn. The connection between the gods and their priests still exists, so we are still granted spells. The Council has confirmed that all of the Many are here on Affon, though naturally their exact locations were not given. Grabâkh is known to be in the Haran Desert, and the locations of Feesha, Ardara, and Krûsh are unknown, though given their natures it’s assumed they are somewhere in the sky, in the earth, and in the water, respectively.”
“What about Erito?” Autumn asked. “It seems important that we find her.”
“By all accounts, Erito is here, but is on the move. She is seen in one place, stays for a short time, and then moves on. There is no apparent pattern to her movements.”
“She could be trying to stay a step ahead of Silko,” Osborn suggested. “I’m sure he’d love to take out arcane magic.”
“She may also be trying to repair the fluctuation in the Nodes,” Tolly suggested.
“Speaking of which,” Autumn said, “Kyle, what’s happening with all these strange creatures?”
“Well, my initial suspicions were correct,” Kyle said. “I spoke with several farmers who described large areas that have become warped and twisted regions. There are two such regions within Vargas itself. It seems that the Dream Realm has somehow impinged itself upon the physical world, creating these overlapping areas. The strange creatures, like those bizarre goristro, came out of portals from these areas.”
“That explains why they were so hard to hurt,” Tolly said, “they’re not fully real.”
“Real enough,” Kyle said. “I’m pretty sure that weapons enchanted to affect incorporeal creatures will affect these dream-creatures in the same way. The good news is that not all of these overlaid areas correspond to portions of the Nightmare Realm. One of the areas in Vargas is definitely hostile, and I’ve had work started on walling it off. The other is fairly benign.”
“What is its nature?” Tolly asked.
Kyle blushed. “Well, it seems that it corresponds to a region of the Dream Realm that contains dreams of a more… erotic nature.”
Lanara smiled. “Kyle’s been picking flowers in the Fields of Love.”
“Fields of Love?” Autumn asked.
“It’s the name the locals have given the area,” Lanara explained. “You might want to wall off that one too, just so you can charge admission.”
Autumn looked at Kyle. “And you were inside this area?”
“I was studying it. I didn’t know about the effects until I was inside.”
Autumn nodded. “So that explains how you were the other night.”
“But anyway,” Kyle said, “there’s more. It seems the workings of magic have been altered. Reports are coming in that occasionally spells will misfire; some are reduced in potency, others are increased, and some have effects that are completely random. It’s likely related to the instability in the Nodes is causing this. The best guess is that roughly three to five percent of spells being cast are affected. It’s not clear to me yet if this extends to innate abilities like Talents or racial magics, or if it affects more permanent magics that were placed before Silko’s return. I also can’t say for sure if this is affecting divine or nature magic, though since the source of both of those is here on this planet, it could very well be the case.”
“More good news for our side,” Lanara groaned.
“It’s a lot worse for others,” Osborn said. “I’ve been checking with the locals and civilians in other areas. There are a lot of refugees south of the front lines, and there’s not enough food to go around. Between the land captured by the Taurics, the crops and livestock that were stolen by refugees, and the areas of land lost to these dream overlays, the farmers are having a pretty tough time. I’ve heard reports from villages in and near Targeth that there are a lot of people coming out of Trageon. So many that several villages have had to barricade themselves off to keep them out. If something doesn’t change soon, people are going to start starving.”
“There’s been a lot of suffering out there,” Autumn said. “I’ve had reports from Auror and Togusa on the status of things here in the duchy. Our military forces have had about forty percent casualties, and we’ve lost about a quarter of our civilian population.”
“At least that’s fewer people to go hungry,” Tolly said bitterly.
“I could throw a good plague into the city to make sure the food goes farther,” Kyle said.
Autumn just stared at him, at first convinced he was trying to make another one of his poor jokes, but realizing that, while not entirely serious, he wasn’t making the comment for laughs. She’d never heard anything so cruel come out of his mouth before. He’s just tired, Autumn thought. We’re all tired, and Bail help us, there’s no rest coming.
“There is some good news,” Osborn said. “The war profiteering that I’ve managed to get access to through various thieves’ guilds has given me access to a lot of loose capital, which we can send where we need it.”
“What other steps can we take now to help?” Autumn asked.
“We need to be able to deal with the problem of these dream creatures,” Kyle said, “and prepare in the event the Taurics get aggressive again. I’d suggest we spread the word to the wizards in the Alliance that those with skill in alchemy should work on producing as much ghost oil as possible. With magic unreliable, and with properly enchanted weapons in short supply, it’s the best chance we have.”
“I also think we should have people working on mass-producing those firearms that we found in Targeth,” Arrie said. “They’re not terribly efficient compared to magic, but in a world where everyone’s going to be hesitant to cast spells, they could come in handy.”
“We should also make sure the Alliance command understands that the Taurics’ claims of being controlled are true, to avoid unnecessary hostilities,” Tolly advised.
“There’s not much to be done about the food problem,” Osborn said. “I’ve spoken to some druids, and using their magic to accelerate crop growth would be a short-term solution. It would just put off the famine a few years. Besides, if what Kyle says is true, we might not want to rely on heavy use of nature magic.”
“So it seems,” Arrie said, “that now we have to decide what to do personally. I’d vote for finding Erito and keeping her safe.”
“I disagree,” Kyle said. “She may be stuck in a physical body, but she’s still a deity, and has plenty of her own power, as well as legions of eladrin and the faithful willing to die to defend her. Besides, playing defense for Erito means Silko and his bunch get to run around unmolested.”
“We could go check out Trageon, see if the rumors are true,” Lanara offered. “See if we can do anything to help, make sure there aren’t any dangerous artifacts just laying around in the rubble waiting to be picked up by the bad guys…”
“… do a little looting…” Kyle said quietly.
Lanara paused. “I’ll admit the thought of looking for some things that would help us out crossed my mind, Kyle, but since it wasn’t the main reason we’d be going, I thought I’d leave that out.”
“So, Kyle, do you have any suggestions?” Arrie inquired, “Or were you planning on just sitting there casting control weather every time we try and brainstorm?”
“Two things come to mind,” he said. “First, we know that the ritual that brought Silko back required him to drain the essence of all the gods, but one got away, thanks to Osborn.”
The hin smiled.
“Well, rather than trying to protect the deities he’s already drained, I think we should figure out how he intends to get to Ladta and stop him. I’m pretty sure he’s going to want to finish what he started.”
“Okay,” Arrie prompted, “what’s your second idea?”
“That we go on the offensive,” Kyle said. “We talked about it before, but never had the chance to implement our plan before we had to go on our little ‘secret mission’ to the desert. We find out where Silko’s people are and start picking them off. Put them on the defensive for a change.”
“A worthy idea,” Tolly said, “but with the functioning of magic uncertain, is mounting an attack wise?”
“Well, unfortunately, Tolly, it’s all I have, so I guess I’ll just deal with that, right?” Kyle snapped.
Autumn sighed. “Okay, look, we’ve had a hard time these past two weeks. We’re tired and not at our best. I think we should all get some rest, think about what we want to do, and come back here tomorrow and work out a plan.”
“I agree,” Osborn said. “After supper, then?”
They all rose and left the room, except for Kyle, who walked over to a window and looked out over the city, and Autumn, who also lingered. She came up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s bothering you, Kyle? Some of the things you were saying back there – thumb screws? Plagues? That’s not like you.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he said, not turning to look at her. “Doesn’t seem that being ‘like me’ has gotten us very far.”
“I thought you were over feeling like you weren’t contributing to the party,” Autumn said.
“It’s not that,” he said. “I’m having a hard time justifying to myself why I should care so much about being a decent person.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” Kyle pointed out across the city, to the region of Dream that was being walled off to protect the citizens from harm. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Autumn, but they’re winning. Look at what being honest and caring has gotten us. Look at what being deceitful, treacherous, murdering bastards has gotten them. I can’t help but wonder if we’d be in this position if we’d been willing to be just a little more ruthless.”
“Kyle,” Autumn said, tears in her eyes, “if we become like them, we’ve already lost, regardless of the outcome of any battle.”
Kyle sighed. “I hear your words,” he said, “but right now I’m not ready to believe them.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room in a swirl of blue robes.
Wow, that's two superb updates. Very high quality writing as usual, Delemental. I hope you haven't caught up to present time in that campaign yet - I want more updates! And now, some comments...
Aelfenn? Dream World? Someone has been reading Robert Jordan.
Oh, and I can understand Kyle and Lanara's frustration of being unable to contribute much. Also, I think I understand the cause of the problem. As I recall, you mentioned a few months ago that, instead of lots of relatively easily-defeateable encounters each level, you tended to have just a few very difficult encounters instead. Such opponents of course have high spell resistance, so characters whose offensive abilities are based on magic are, well, screwed.
So instead of being able to decimate groups of lower-level beings at least from time to time and being able to feel useful, Kyle and Lanara have to watch their spells fizzle uselessly as the party lurches from tough encounter to tough encounter. The goristro that Kyle turned to stone must have blown its save or something - and I'm sure Kyle is aware that it's pure luck that allowed that spell to strike. Now that there's an automatic spell failure chance no matter what, the spellcasters will be even less effective in combat. So it's normal that the guy is feeling depressed.
As for Lanara, well, she has the same problem as Kyle where magic is concerned, and with what the party has been up to of late (i.e. travelling and basically dungeon crawling), she hasn't had much chance to bring her particular skills to the fore and feel useful of late. And I don't think she will for a while yet, given that the campaign is now dealing with a wholesale invasion (and thus with lots of combat on the horizon) and gods. Maybe the Tauric leadership will want to negotiate a long-term truce while they deal with the tentacled beasts and their former psionic enslavers (since it seems the Taurics are now aware that they've been manipulated).
If the DM wants to cheer them up, maybe he could have a horde of low-CR tentacled beasts appear from nowhere and rush the walls of Vargas, allowing the spellcasters to decimate them from afar with spells and actually feel effective for a change.
Autumn nodded. “So that explains how you were the other night.” Heh heh. So just how was Kyle?
Oh, and as to Kyle's comments at the end of the last post, I don't really see how the party could have really altered the overall course of the campaign. I think the Tauric invasion and Silko's return would have happened no matter what. The only thing I can think of is that they might have gone on a locate-and-kill spree of the Taurics' psionic masterminds... But sooner or later they'd have encountered something they couldn't handle or the psionicists would have laid a trap, so IMO that course of action would merely at best have delayed the inevitable.
Aelfenn? Dream World? Someone has been reading Robert Jordan.
Oh, and I can understand Kyle and Lanara's frustration of being unable to contribute much. Also, I think I understand the cause of the problem. As I recall, you mentioned a few months ago that, instead of lots of relatively easily-defeateable encounters each level, you tended to have just a few very difficult encounters instead. Such opponents of course have high spell resistance, so characters whose offensive abilities are based on magic are, well, screwed.
So instead of being able to decimate groups of lower-level beings at least from time to time and being able to feel useful, Kyle and Lanara have to watch their spells fizzle uselessly as the party lurches from tough encounter to tough encounter. The goristro that Kyle turned to stone must have blown its save or something - and I'm sure Kyle is aware that it's pure luck that allowed that spell to strike. Now that there's an automatic spell failure chance no matter what, the spellcasters will be even less effective in combat. So it's normal that the guy is feeling depressed.
As for Lanara, well, she has the same problem as Kyle where magic is concerned, and with what the party has been up to of late (i.e. travelling and basically dungeon crawling), she hasn't had much chance to bring her particular skills to the fore and feel useful of late. And I don't think she will for a while yet, given that the campaign is now dealing with a wholesale invasion (and thus with lots of combat on the horizon) and gods. Maybe the Tauric leadership will want to negotiate a long-term truce while they deal with the tentacled beasts and their former psionic enslavers (since it seems the Taurics are now aware that they've been manipulated).
If the DM wants to cheer them up, maybe he could have a horde of low-CR tentacled beasts appear from nowhere and rush the walls of Vargas, allowing the spellcasters to decimate them from afar with spells and actually feel effective for a change.
Autumn nodded. “So that explains how you were the other night.” Heh heh. So just how was Kyle?
Oh, and as to Kyle's comments at the end of the last post, I don't really see how the party could have really altered the overall course of the campaign. I think the Tauric invasion and Silko's return would have happened no matter what. The only thing I can think of is that they might have gone on a locate-and-kill spree of the Taurics' psionic masterminds... But sooner or later they'd have encountered something they couldn't handle or the psionicists would have laid a trap, so IMO that course of action would merely at best have delayed the inevitable.
Delemental
First Post
Krafus said:Wow, that's two superb updates. Very high quality writing as usual, Delemental. I hope you haven't caught up to present time in that campaign yet - I want more updates! And now, some comments...
Aelfenn? Dream World? Someone has been reading Robert Jordan.
Couldn't comment on that, though I don't think the DM is a big Jordan fan. And I've never read any of those books, so the reference is lost on me, I'm afraid.
I'm also afraid that we are, indeed, caught up, and so the next update will have to wait until sometime after this Friday's game.
Yeah, the goristro rolled a one on its save. I was truly expecting it to have no effect.
We're well aware of why we have such difficulty using magic against our current opponents. The fact that I roll dice abysmally doesn't help. Kyle was more frustrated by the fact that he was getting taken out of battle so early that he didn't even have a chance to try, and that his lack of contribution didn't seem to be making much of a difference in the outcome. He was starting to feel more a liability than an asset. The reason he held back initially when we fought the ooze-creature in the Nightmare Realm (a modified Aspect of Jubilex, for the curious) was that he was sure that the others could handle it without him. Only when they started having trouble was he moved to act, and initially that was only to give the other a little boost so they could do the job. Using benign transposition to switch places with Arrie wasn't some act of matyrdom - he was at full hp, Arrie had been inside for who knows how long and was possibly close to dying, so he pulled her out the fastest way he knew how (he also had acid resistance up, so it wasn't doing as much damage to him). Kyle was planning on using dimension door to escape himself the next round, but we killed it before that could happen. And then when everybody got on Kyle's case for jumping into the creature, he decided not to bother explaining himself.
The goristro battle helped snap him out of that state of mind considerably, since it proved he could still contribute meaningfully. Now, as for Kyle's other current angst-filled crisis, that's a different problem.
Really, it's going to be all about proper spell selection at this point. I can't keep up with Arrie, Osborn, or Autumn in terms of damage output, so better to find other things to do.
The main issue that Lanara's (and her player) has currently is that her routine in combat has become little more than "Sing, then do a bunch of stuff that doesn't really work". Part of it is spell availability - bard spells are mainly geared around Will saves, which at this level, and with the types of opponents we face, aren't going to take effect very often.
Lanara's player is currently in the midst of considering her options, which may include a shift in focus to include more direct participation in combat. She'd just like to be more than a "floating +4 morale bonus". The nature of the campaign itself is going to change from this point on, and may include more investigative and diplomatic work, which may mean that her strengths will come more to the fore (she's a social character, not a combat character - her bonuses to things like Diplomacy and Gather INfo are obscene).
Let's put it this way - the way it was described to me was "Kyle comes out of the area with a new wand, and a willingness to use all fifty charges".
It should be mentioned that Autumn and Osborn's players were not at this session (which is why they ran off at the beginning), so I didn't really take the opportunity to expound in-game on how I would resolve this, er, state of existence. However, when I told the DM that I was planning on checking this area of Dream out, I had considered asking Arrie to come with me. Now, I'm not exactly sure what would have happened - probably nothing, because it's not like you lose complete control in the Fields of Love or anything, but it might have been an... awkward moment for the two of us.
Oh, I know that, and on a deeper level Kyle knows that as well. But Kyle very much believes in the classic idea of the hero, even if he wouldn't say it as such, and wants to live up to that role. He also feels the extra burden of responsibility for anything psionic, since he is the owner of the Scion's Staff. He's always struggled with a darker side, something he usually keeps bottled up, but it gets out occasionally (recall the scene with the Scion-Watcher cult after they killed his brother in cold blood, or when Autumn was abducted by Meeranda). Right now, he's having trouble seeing what the benefit of being The Good Guy™ was, in light of this rather dramatic victory for Team Silko. So, until he's reminded of exactly why that capital 'G' in his alignment is important, Kyle's going to be entertaining less than savory thoughts for a while.
Delemental
First Post
Divide and Conquer
Well, after a long delay, here's the latest update!
----------------------
“What is our status, General?”
Togusa stood and bowed before giving his report. “Duchy forces stand at seventy percent of normal, thanks to heavy recruiting. However, we are still desperately short on officers, engineers, and support personnel. It is unlikely that we will be able to fill many of these positions, and the state of the duchy’s treasury is such that it would be difficult to build our general forces further without reducing relief efforts elsewhere.”
Autumn nodded, trying to keep the melancholy she felt at the news from reaching her face. “Thank you, General. And what of the tactical situation inside Vargas?”
This question was addressed by a pale, aging wizard in parchment-colored robes that matched his skin, someone Autumn didn’t recognize at first. Tazlin Mohere, Autumn remembered. He’s the head of the Mage’s Guild. He and his wife were at my wedding. His name was on the list of people that Arrie had said might try to assassinate her.
“Work progresses slowly on containing the area of the city you refer to as the ‘Nightmare Realm’, Tazlin began. “Our initial experiments on your suggestion of incorporating the alchemical compound unguentum phasmatis, commonly known as ghost oil, into the mortar of newly-constructed stone walls proved unsuccessful, as the mortar itself refused to set properly. We believe the compound could be modified into a form of lacquer or paint and used to coat the outer surface of a wall, but this would likely only deter lesser incursions, and would be an inconsequential barrier to a significant breach. Of course, the most foolproof method is to surround the affected area with permanent walls of force.”
“All right,” Autumn said, “what’s the catch?”
“The ‘catch’, as you put it, is that there are few practitioners of the arcane arts loyal to the duchy who have the skill required to perform this incantation, and of those that exist, few are willing to risk the spell with the current instabilities in the flow of magic. Those who are willing to try are, quite properly, demanding a significant increase in the usual fees that would be charged for such an enchantment, given its demand on an arcanist’s own life force. And with some of the members of my guild being diverted to the site of the other incursion…”
“Other incursion?” Autumn blurted out. “There’s nothing dangerous about the Fields of Love!”
“Not overtly so, no. However, there has been an increasing problem in the city of losing citizens with valuable skills to the temptations of this particular region and its… unusual influences. Compounding the problem is that beings native to this region have begun wandering out of the incursion zone into the rest of the city, beings who are apparently able to create the same sorts of influences in those they encounter. We can attribute at least one death to an entity from the Fields of Love – a bricklayer who apparently took in one of these creatures for his personal pleasure. So much pleasure, apparently, that he neglected to feed himself for several weeks. I’m told the grin on the face of the corpse was quite unnerving. So we have sent some of our wizards out to locate these creatures and deal with them as well. Our primary fear is that an entity from the Fields of Love might end up entering the Nightmare Realm, and we do not like the implications inherent in that particular combination.”
Autumn shuddered involuntarily at the thought. “Point taken, Tazlin. Do what you can to convince your people to keep at it, and we will do what we can to give them the support they need.” Bail knows where I’ll find it, though. She’d devoted a large chunk of her personal fortune into getting the city back on its feet, and had squeezed every noble and merchant she could find for more gold.
“It might be of some help if we could confer with your husband, the Court Wizard,” Tazlin said. “He is currently the closest thing we have to an expert on the subject of this Dream Realm, and his insights might prove useful to us.”
“The Duke-Consort is away at the moment,” he didn’t say where he was going, or why, or how long he’d been gone, “attending to other affairs of state.” Or off getting himself killed, or having a nervous breakdown. “When he returns, I will deliver your request.” Right after I beat him to a pulp.
Autumn heard other reports from Auror and her other advisors, none of them encouraging. Refugees swelled the city walls, depleting food stores rapidly. Crime was up, tax collection was down. Crop yields were expected to be poor this year, due to a combination of land lost to the Taurics or the Dream Realm overlays, and farmers killed by the war or the Dream Realm incursion. The Imperial army had withdrawn to Noxolt to aid in relief and reconstruction efforts in the capital, leaving only ducal forces under her command. And a private report, given to her by her spymaster, confirmed for Autumn what Arrie had warned her about weeks ago; that some of the noble families, both inside and outside of Vargex, were making plans to use the current chaos to improve their position. King Tanach of Erumian had already survived an assassination attempt.
Rubbing her temples, Autumn dismissed her spymaster and slumped down in her chair the moment he was gone. She felt numb, drained of all emotion. The urge to pack up her things and simply run gnawed at her soul, but she forced herself to shove those thoughts aside. There was too much of that going on in her home as it was. More than anything, she felt alone. Everyone had gone their separate ways after their return from the Dream Realm, recognizing that there were several tasks best accomplished if they split up. Arrie was wandering around Affon, checking up on family and friends. Tolly had gone to Medos to brief the Divinity Council and urge them into action. Lanara had been summoned to Noxolt by the Emperor himself, no doubt to help him negotiate with the Tauric Empire. Osborn was somewhere in Targeth, or what was left of it, attending to business there. And Kyle…
“Where are you, Kyle?” she asked herself quietly. “When are you coming home?”
Kyle arrived in the woods just east of Aleppi, the journey here significantly easier than it had been the first time. He chose to walk to the little logging village of Canyon Camp, since he didn’t know how they’d react to him just appearing in the middle of the village. When Kyle arrived, his presence caused little commotion among the villagers. Loggers, he thought, hard to rattle them. No one seemed to recognize him as he passed through, except for one person.
He had trouble placing the name when he first saw the elf-touched woman running up to him, her deer-antler headdress bobbing up and down slightly. She stopped a respectful distance away.
“You’re the wizard, Kyle, aren’t you?” she said. “Welcome back to Canyon Camp.” She saw the blank look on his face, and smiled. “Priestess Sisz. I’m not surprised you have trouble recalling my name. I’m afraid I didn’t make much of an impression on people back then.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling. Still having problems with that Rovenori priest?”
“Who, Kath? He left about a year ago. Hard to keep the priest of a god of travelers in one spot for long. But I wouldn’t say I ever had problems with him – he was just never one for mutual respect.”
“Another feeling I’ve known,” Kyle said.
Sisz smiled. “So, what brings you here?”
“Curiosity,” Kyle replied. “I was hoping to ask someone about the shadar-kai.”
Sisz’s face darkened. “What would you want with them?”
“Information. I have a theory relating to the recent troubles around Aelfenn with the Dr… with these strange creatures that have been showing up.”
“Well, I doubt you’ll get much out of them,” Sisz said. “They’re an unpleasant bunch of fey.”
Kyle’s brow furrowed. “Have there been problems?”
“No, not really,” she said looking away into the forest, in the direction of the shadar-kai territory. “They’ve held to their end of our agreement, and haven’t attacked our people. For the most part they keep to themselves. When we do have to interact with them, though, they’re generally arrogant and hostile. I doubt there’s anyone in town who could give you any information better than that.” She looked up at Kyle. “Do you think they’re responsible for these creatures? We haven’t seen any here, but we’ve heard tales.”
“Not responsible, but possibly related,” Kyle said. “It looks like I’m going to have to do it the hard way.” He sighed, then turned his attention to the town. “Everything here is the same, I take it?”
“Heavy demand for timber because of the war,” Sisz said. “But normal. Is it true that the Tauric army has retreated now that the Many have come to Affon to fight on our behalf?”
Kyle bit his lip. “The war is currently in a cease-fire,” he said carefully, “until everyone can figure out what exactly is going on.”
“I’m thinking of making a pilgrimage to M’Dos,” Sisz said. “The opportunity to actually see Bles in person is the chance of a lifetime. For all we know, maybe the eleven Paragons will return as well!”
“Or one of them, anyway,” Kyle muttered darkly.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. So, is the Whistling Satyr still around? I’d like a room for the night before I set off.”
“I’ll walk you there,” Sisz said. “Where will you be going in the morning?”
“To the standing stones,” Kyle said. “To talk to the shadar-kai.”
* * *
Tolly walked along the dry, dusty road, his armor flashing in the spring sun. He made his way toward the small town at a steady but unhurried pace; even though he was wanting to make good time to his destination, he knew that today he would not accomplish this. Normally he would be traveling under the effect of an air walk spell, and would probably have finished the trip in three or four days. But he’d gone on foot the past two days; somehow the concept of flying through the air during the Earthturning festival seemed… sacrilegious.
His announcement to his brothers in M’Dos at the Cathedral of Eminent Order that he would not be staying there for the upcoming festival had met with a variety of responses. Of course, his demotion from his previous position as Inquisitor Primus was well known, and many simply assumed that this decision was part of whatever heresy he’d performed that had caused him to lose that title. Others assumed he was on some sort of special mission for the Archprelate, or the Alliance. The truth was that he just needed to get out of the city, and these days he no longer felt as strongly as he once did about spending Earthturning among fellow Ardarans. His faith did not require company to remain strong. Apparently, Kupa held a similar opinion; he’d flown off just before Earthturning had started, saying that he had his own observances to make, and that he would meet up with Tolly at his destination.
He’d spent the past four weeks in M’Dos, conferring with the Divinity Council about the current situation. Or at least, that’s what he’d intended, but since conferring requires the active participation of both sides, he’d probably have to describe what he’d been doing as lecturing. The Council, true to form, was wrapped up in their own affairs and seemed to pay the Ardaran priest and his stories about a ‘Dream Realm’ and ‘returning arch-psions’ little heed. On some level, Tolly could hardly blame them – after all, it wasn’t every day that the Divinity Council had to deal with the issue of having their deities living among them.
Several of the Many had taken refuge within their own temples in M’Dos, and this had thrown the city, indeed the entire country, into disorder. There were questions of leadership and authority, with some saying that the representatives of the Council should step aside in favor of their deific patrons. Duties and responsibilities were being shirked as clergy flocked to the temples to receive wisdom directly from their gods. And the city was now choked with pilgrims, hoping for a glimpse of the divine before they set off to war. For it was a widely held belief that the Many had descended to Affon to join the war against the Taurics, a belief that was still being propagated by the churches. After all, it was reasoned, only the One and the Four were worshipped among the Taurics, which was why those gods could not be accounted for; but the Many were Affon’s gods, and would fight to defend it.
With so much chaos in the air, it was small wonder that Tolly found M’Dos ill-suited for reverence to Ardara. You’re dwelling too much on the problems behind you, he told himself. Focus your thoughts on something more pleasant. Focus your thoughts on Her.
Immediately, an image of sparkling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair entered his mind. With more effort that he thought it would require, he dismissed the errant thought. That wasn’t the Her he’d meant.
Within an hour, Tolly was entering the town. It was a small trading community, close to the border with the Khag Steppes, and so he wasn’t surprised to find a few hin running around. But most of the town’s population seemed to be gathering around the central square, surrounding a small wooden platform. Tolly wandered up to the crowd, remaining in the back. On the platform was a figure wearing magistrate’s robes and another in common clothing, standing next to an earthenware vessel.
Tolly was very familiar with this ritual. On the second day of Earthturning, the names of every convicted criminal in the community was inscribed on clay tokens, and these tokens, along with a few blank tokens, were mixed into a clay vessel. The local Ardaran priest, or local magistrate, would draw a single token from the vessel. According to the Ardaran church, the name drawn would be that of a criminal who was wrongly convicted, and this person would immediately be pardoned and set free. If a blank token was drawn, then it meant that all who were currently convicted of crimes had been jailed lawfully. Tolly knew that even though the Archprelates had sworn that Ardara’s Mercy was infallible, many communities opted to ‘forget’ to scribe tokens for the most serious and violent offenders. He wasn’t quite sure what the role of the second person on the platform was; normally the priest or magistrate presided over the ceremony alone.
The magistrate had started speaking, and the crowd grew quiet. “And now that Ardara has bestowed her mercy upon this man,” he indicated the commoner standing next to him, “the task falls to him to choose who Ardara shall Judge.” The commoner reached into the vessel and began rummaging around.
Tolly watched carefully, now understanding more. He’d heard rumors of this particular variation of the Ardara’s Mercy ceremony, something that had sprung up in outlying communities in recent years. He was surprised to see it in Medos, even this far from the capital. According to what he’d heard, Ardara’s Judgment was performed after Ardara’s Mercy, and the name drawn was supposed to indicate the name of a person who was guilty of an undiscovered crime. The church had not taken an official position on the practice yet, as the practice varied widely. The rumors about the ritual were indicating that it was often accurate, so if the Prelate Council did act on it, it would most likely be to standardize the practice.
The man had grabbed on to a token, and now held it aloft for all to see. When the cheers dies down, he handed the token to the magistrate. The magistrate glanced at the token, frowned, and spoke quietly to the man with him. The crowd quickly grew impatient.
“There has been an error,” the magistrate finally announced. “The name that has been drawn is not valid. Another token will be drawn.” The man reached into the vessel again, this time producing a token right away that he handed over to the magistrate as though it was on fire. A dark look crossed the magistrate’s face as he looked at the second token.
“Captain!” he shouted to a guardsman standing nearby, “I thought you had verified the accuracy of these tokens!”
“I did, Your Honor,” he man said. “Checked them myself this morning.”
“Then how do you explain this?” The magistrate thrust the two tokens into the captain’s hands.
“They both say ‘Silko’,” the captain gasped aloud. “But… that’s impossible…”
“I’m sure it is, because I think that if the Paragon of Heroes was currently in our jail, I would know about it,” snapped the magistrate. “Another name will be drawn, and there will be an inquiry into this mockery of Ardara on her holiest days.” The magistrate himself thrust his hand into the jar and pulled out a token. And then another. Then another. His face grew blacker with each token he read. Finally, with a cry of rage, the magistrate tipped over the vessel, and clay tokens scattered everywhere.
“Whoever is responsible for this travesty will be caught and punished for their crime! This ceremony is over!”
The confused and slightly nervous crowd began to disperse. Slowly, Tolly made his way up to the platform, and looked down at the pile of broken tokens, all of which bore the same name.
Your will be done, Ardara, he prayed silently. If I have anything to say about it, then the judgment you have proclaimed will come to pass.
* * *
To my friends in the Legacy,
I’ve struggled for a while on how to bring you this news. My first instinct, of course, is to compose a ballad about it. However, with all of us scattered Feesha knows where across this continent, it wouldn’t be very practical to get you all together for a concerto. And I don’t think any of you read musical notation, so that wouldn’t work well. Even if you could, there would be the question of what style of notation to use. While Elvish notation would seem the simplest choice, the nature of the song would probably go best with dwarven melodic rune-script.
But I digress, as is my nature.
In the end, I think that rather than write five separate letters and track each of you down, it’s better to write one and leave it at the one place you will all be coming back to eventually – Autumn’s home in Vargas.
I say ‘you will be coming back’ instead of ‘we will be coming back’ for one simple reason – I will not be seeing you for a while.
I have been designated as the chief negotiator for the Alliance and placed directly under Emperor Haxtha. Putting aside my talent for innuendo for the moment, this means that for all intents and purposes I am an Imperial official, at least for the time being. I’ve been charged with opening a dialogue with the leaders of the Tauric Empire in the hopes of negotiating a more permanent arrangement. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll do this – even I’m not good enough to convince them that turning around and going back to a devastated continent is a good idea – but I’m sure I’ll think of something.
I could have turned this offer down. But the truth is that this is what I’m good at, and right now I badly need a dose of self-confidence. But part of my price for agreeing to this position is to receive some additional training in some skills I’ve neglected – if part of my problem is feeling like I’m not as useful to you as I could be, then I guess it’s up to me to step outside my comfort zone and fix that problem.
I have every intention of coming back to you as soon as I can – I’m not pulling a Madrone here. But until I can come back and allow you all to once again bask in the glory of my presence, I’ll leave you with some words of wisdom. (Yes, Tolly, I am capable of it when the occasion calls).
Actually, Tolly, I may as well start with you. There are some old issues in your life that aren’t as resolved as you think they are. I’m not even sure you’re fully aware of it yourself. If it ever comes down to it, trust that things will work out as they were meant to, and resist the urge to meddle. Hopefully, this advice will never make any sense to you, because the situation will never come up.
Arrie, I really don’t have much I need to say to you. You seem to have pulled yourself together quite a bit since we left the Dream Realm, so I guess I don’t have to find a polite and creative way of saying ‘don’t go crazy and kill us all’. I know you only have four years left before your deal with Herion expires and you have to go back to being a full-time princess – make the most of them.
Kyle, you worry me. I think you take on too much guilt, too much responsibility for what’s happened. Maybe it’s the burden of an overactive conscience, I don’t know. But there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to stop you going down the road you’re looking down. No one but you. You really don’t want to go down that road, Kyle, and you know it. Don’t realize it after it’s too late.
Autumn, the one thing I’d tell you is to remind you that you can’t control everything. And that sometimes the best way to handle a situation is to do nothing. Stick with your strengths, but realize that you have more strengths than you give yourself credit for.
Osborn – it seems like you have things well in hand, or at least as well as they can get these days. My thoughts will be winging their way to you while I’m gone.
Take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you soon. Hopefully at the head of a parade in my honor.
Arrie walked slowly among the teeming throngs of people in the refugee camp, her eyes scanning the many blank faces staring back at her.
It had been a depressing trip so far.
She’d started by returning to her birthplace, the kingdom of Merlion. Damen and Corissane, her cousins, were still seated comfortably on the thrones of the kingdom; their small realm was too insignificant in the eyes of most nobles in Tlaxan to make good targets. Her brother Aiden was also still in his position as the twins’ steward, and appeared to be juggling his responsibilities to them and his responsibilities as the Lord Verahannen fairly well. With nothing concerning going on, Arrie left quickly, so that her family would not be unduly burdened with the responsibility of ‘receiving a member of the Imperial Family’.
In another four years, they may come to see me as nothing more than ‘a member of the Imperial Family’, she thought glumly. Though she was glad that her family was well, she couldn’t help but think about the father she’d lost, and would never see again.
She’d headed south next, across the Dwarven Confederates and into the Khag Steppes, looking for signs of her next target. Along the way she’d spoken to many people, and learned much about what they believed or were being told about recent events. She’d also had the occasion to defend herself or others against marauding dream-creatures, and was beginning to gain a disturbingly good sense of how to fight these anomalies. Still, she’d only come out of some of those scrapes by the skin of her teeth.
Death is but another step on the journey, she’d reminded herself, her mind leaving out the part about how for her that step would likely be the last. Down that road lay doubt, and fear, and madness.
She’d finally found what she was looking for – the Amazing Traveling Circus. Or, what was left of it. She learned that the circus troupe had largely dispersed when the war broke out, with many of them going to join the Hin Irregulars fighting for the Alliance. Only a few had returned, and many of those were wounded. Osborn’s mother, Lillian, was there, healing from a wound in her thigh. Her husband, Bartlebee, had not come back from the war, and Osborn’s twin brother Gerald had been missing for months.
Arrie fought back tears as she felt the weight of the dagger she had stashed inside her boot. “It was Barty’s favorite,” Lillan had told her, “and I think he would’ve wanted Osborn to have it. He was always proud of his son.”
She paused for a moment to clear her head and refocus. She was now leagues away from the Steppes, and looking for someone else. She returned her attention to the crowds surrounding her. The stench of the camp was nearly overpowering; like all the others she’d been in, this one was overcrowded and poorly organized. Off to her left, she saw an older woman spooning gruel into the mouth of a vacant-eyed, drooling man in tattered robes. She recognized him as one of the wizard instructors from the Tower, no doubt a victim of one of the magical mishaps that now plagued practitioners of magic across Aelfenn. Arrie briefly imagined seeing an incoherent Kyle sitting on the ground, rocking as he was cared for by Autumn. She forced the image out of her mind, more unnerved by the thought than she cared to admit.
She was about to give up and move on when she caught sight of someone that struck a chord with her. She studied the face for a moment to be sure, and then she cautiously approached.
The man was in his early sixties, and bore the scars and weight of a hard life. Thick, callused hands ended in nails that were filled with dirt Arrie imagined would never fully wash away. His sunken cheeks bore the mark of many lean winters, but there was still a spark in his blue-gray eyes. He looked up at her through a mane of graying hair when he saw she was watching him.
“Is your name Rufus?” she asked.
“Ayup,” he replied in a heavy rural drawl. “What’s it to you?”
“I need you to come with me,” Arrie said.
Rufus looked her up and down. “Well,” he said at last, “I’m guessin’ you ain’t a whore, ‘cuz they don’t needs to come out lookin’ for business round here. Judging by what yer packin’, I reckon yer either a slaver or a recruiter. I ain’t much interested in either.”
“I’m not a slaver or a recruiter,” Arrie replied. “My name is Ariadne, and I’m from Tlaxan. I’ve come to take you there.”
He looked her up and down again. “You’ve got the bearin’ of a noble,” he said. “If you’re looking to slum it with the commoners, ain’t you got enough back home?”
Arrie controlled her breathing. Rufus was proving to be as infuriating as his progeny. “Look, I’d rather not explain it all here,” she said. “So let me make this simple.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins, holding them so only Rufus could see them. “I want to get you out of this camp,” she said slowly. “And somewhere where you can get a proper meal and I can explain why I came to find you.”
Rufus looked at the coins, and then at Arrie. Slowly, he stood up, his joints and tendons popping as he rose.
“Well,” he drawled, “you got my attention, miss Ariadne.”
* * *
He knelt inside the circle of standing stones, and focused his awareness on his surroundings. If you’re not here, then where are you? Kyle thought, as he studied the air around him.
He’d searched for two days, and found no trace of the shadar-kai. He’d found their village, the simple dwellings abandoned and empty. But not a sign of the elusive fey could be found.
After several minutes, Kyle caught his first glimpse of a lingering magical aura, near the center of the circle. Concentrating harder, Kyle looked for more flickers of magic, hoping to confirm his suspicions. Slowly, the picture came into focus.
A magical ritual was performed here, he thought as he studied the evidence. A very large one. Conjuration magic… they either brought something here or…no, they sent something away. Lots of somethings…
He was pretty sure what had happened. The shadar-kai had performed some sort of ceremony to return to whatever dimension they’d been hiding in for all the millennia since the Cataclysm. A place, as he recalled Lanara telling them when they’d come here three years ago, that was ‘nowhere’, a place that ‘didn’t exist’.
It was this phrase that had caught in his mind as he’d been thinking about everything they’d learned over the years about their enemies.
Kyle could think of one plane that could be considered ‘nowhere’ and was thought to ‘not exist’. That plane was currently impinging itself all over Aelfenn, and tentacled horrors from that nowhere were rampaging through the land. It was possible, he thought, that the shadar-kai had somehow accessed the Dream Realm after the Cataclysm, hiding there to avoid the aftermath of that event. Perhaps they had even gone there to hide from the gods as they engaged in their crusade against the psions after the Consort’s destruction. Although the concept of a psionically-endowed race of fey was largely inconceivable, given their usual propensity for arcane magic, with everything Kyle had seen in the past four years, he wasn’t willing to rule anything out. But if, in fact, the shadar-kai had come from Dream, then his primary interest was in finding out as much as possible about that realm, and about those psions who utilized it.
Beads of sweat trickled down Kyle’s forehead as he bent his effort to teasing out the most difficult piece of information from the scant remnants of magical power. “Definitely an extra-planar destination,” he said aloud to himself. “Not a planet… what’s that… it looks like…”
The answer clicked into place with the solidity of a door slamming shut. Shadow. The shadar-kai had gone to the Shadow Plane, which was most likely the very place they’d gone all those years ago.
“Damn!” Kyle swore, rising to his feet and stomping around the circle of stones. “Son of a bitch!” He stomped to the center of the circle and screamed at the top of his lungs as he released weeks of pent-up rage. He turned and stomped off, still swearing, kicking at the large stones surrounding the clearing.
There was a fluttering of wings, and a large raven settled on a nearby branch. “Um, boss?” the raven said, “you do realize you’re all alone out here, right? Calm down.”
Kyle whirled to face Violet. “Don’t tell me to calm down! This was the last thing I could think of to track Silko’s people down! Nothing I’ve tried in the past six weeks has worked! All of the psions I know about are warded against divinations, and so is that he-bitch Marrek!”
Violet did not respond to Kyle’s tirade.
“I mean, it’s not exactly like you’ve made any good suggestions! The only idea I have left is using live bait, and I’m not exactly eager to dangle myself on a hook for Kristyan and his ilk!”
“Then why don’t you ask someone else?”
“Right, like I’d put anyone else in that position! What kind of person do you think I am?”
“That’s not what I meant, boss. I meant ask about where the psions are.”
“Ask about where the psions are? Silko and his people aren’t exactly in the habit of making friends on the surface world. Who would you suggest I ask?”
Kyle stared up at Violet. Slowly, the flush in his cheeks faded. He walked over and extended his hand. Violet flapped her wings and settled on Kyle’s shoulder.
“Things didn’t go according to plan, I take it?” she asked.
“No, they didn’t.” He sighed. “And clearly, I’m no longer in a state of mind to keep this up. I guess I should just go back to Vargas and let them know I’ve got nothing to show for my efforts.”
“Don’t give up hope, boss,” Violet said. “Maybe the answer will come to you in a dream or something like that.”
Kyle laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not sure I really want anything from dreams right now, Violet.”
“Suit yourself.” The raven pecked at Kyle’s hair. “Wood tick,” she said, swallowing the tiny insect. “Say, if you don’t need me, there’s a rather lovely dead raccoon off yonder…”
“Have a blast,” Kyle said. “Don’t be gone long. I’m heading back to town and we’re leaving after supper. Some of us can’t live on carrion.”
After Violet flew off, Kyle looked around at the stone circle, and the marks he’d left in the dirt from his outburst. He sighed, and then walked away.
* * *
The wind whipped through Osborn’s hair as he rode swiftly down the road, the only noise the steady padding of Rupert’s feet on the hard-packed earth. He was alone on the road; most people had fled the central regions of Targeth, so there were no travelers to meet, and nothing but abandoned farmhouses and pillaged roadside inns. It was a depressing sight, and did little to lift the hin’s mood.
Since leaving Vargas and making contact with his informants, he hadn’t heard much good news. He’d headed into Targeth first, to see for himself if the rumors of Trageon’s destruction were true. More importantly, he wanted to know how the Shadow Hand had fared. If the leadership had been killed, then Osborn would have a chance of assuming control of his old thieves guild. The Shadow Hand was an influential guild, and had contacts well outside of Targeth, and would be a valuable asset in the Shadow General’s network.
He’d seen from a great distance away that the truth was much worse that he’d imagined. The angry clouds of an enormous magestorm hung over where Trageon had been, flashing with multicolored lightning. The storm rose in a pillar from the ground up into the sky for miles, completely obscuring any sign of the city. He wasn’t able to get a good look at Trageon until he was almost on top of it.
The city was a ruined pile of stone and metal. The Upper City and the Tower had collapsed completely, and the weight of the collapse had caved in the Lower City, leaving a huge, rubble-strewn crater. Shards of glassteel were scattered everywhere, buried in the earth; some were the size of giants. The shards were still razor sharp, and nearly invisible – wandering around, one could easily walk into the edge of a shard and end up bisected before being able to stop. Worse still, Osborn found the bodies of several people, most likely treasure-seekers looking for the Tower’s magical artifacts, whose lungs had been filled with clouds of glassteel dust, and shredded from the inside. They had died drowning in their own blood. If there were any members of the Shadow Hand left, none of them were here. Osborn would have to wait before he could make his bid for control. With a overwhelming sense of melancholy and not a little fear, Osborn retreated from the hellish scene.
Meanwhile, he was still receiving regular reports from his network. His twin brother Gerald, who was in the south posing as the Shadow General, was sending regular dispatches via the invisible silver ravens he’d had made to permit secret communication with his people across Affon. Gerald had sent him a copy of an old map that one of his agents had recovered; detailing the location of what was supposedly a pre-Cataclysm treasure. Osborn had already sent a letter to Lanara asking her to dig up any information she could.
He was also hearing rumors of bands of fanatic Ladtan clergy, forcibly converting entire villages to their goddess and then murdering them en masse, claiming that only Ladta could ensure the continuation of the life-death cycle and end the disturbances in magical power. He was also hearing rumors that the ranks of many of the gods’ cults were swelling with new recruits in the face of recent events. There had been increased attacks on settlers in the Steppes by new bands of Fiel’s Ravagers, and followers of Erito’s Entropic Heresy were gathering in the mountains south of Tlaxan, advocating the hastening of decay and entropy throughout the world. Everywhere he looked, he could see the signs of shaken faith and uncertainty manifesting itself in the worst ways.
There was too much to do, and not enough people to do it. Which was why he’d turned Rupert’s nose west, and headed for the town of Dagger Rock. He needed to talk with Grog, his second-in-command, and he needed to talk with him personally.
The sun was getting low in the sky when the road finally turned in to parallel the river. He stopped for a while to let Rupert rest and get some water while he ate, and then they set off again. After another forty minutes or so, he saw the silhouette of the dagger-shaped protrusion that had given the town its name, casting a long shadow across the water.
The road dipped slightly, and then rose again. What Osborn saw when he crested the hill nearly caused him to fall off his mount.
The entire town of Dagger Rock had vanished. In its place, a strange arcane symbol was scorched into the soil, black against the red light of sunset.
Osborn stared at the scene below him for a while in disbelief, and then looked around to see if there were any other signs of what had happened. Then he turned Rupert around, and urged him into a run.
“Sorry, old boy,” he said as they began to move. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Osborn needed help. And he could think of only one place to get it.
Well, after a long delay, here's the latest update!
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“What is our status, General?”
Togusa stood and bowed before giving his report. “Duchy forces stand at seventy percent of normal, thanks to heavy recruiting. However, we are still desperately short on officers, engineers, and support personnel. It is unlikely that we will be able to fill many of these positions, and the state of the duchy’s treasury is such that it would be difficult to build our general forces further without reducing relief efforts elsewhere.”
Autumn nodded, trying to keep the melancholy she felt at the news from reaching her face. “Thank you, General. And what of the tactical situation inside Vargas?”
This question was addressed by a pale, aging wizard in parchment-colored robes that matched his skin, someone Autumn didn’t recognize at first. Tazlin Mohere, Autumn remembered. He’s the head of the Mage’s Guild. He and his wife were at my wedding. His name was on the list of people that Arrie had said might try to assassinate her.
“Work progresses slowly on containing the area of the city you refer to as the ‘Nightmare Realm’, Tazlin began. “Our initial experiments on your suggestion of incorporating the alchemical compound unguentum phasmatis, commonly known as ghost oil, into the mortar of newly-constructed stone walls proved unsuccessful, as the mortar itself refused to set properly. We believe the compound could be modified into a form of lacquer or paint and used to coat the outer surface of a wall, but this would likely only deter lesser incursions, and would be an inconsequential barrier to a significant breach. Of course, the most foolproof method is to surround the affected area with permanent walls of force.”
“All right,” Autumn said, “what’s the catch?”
“The ‘catch’, as you put it, is that there are few practitioners of the arcane arts loyal to the duchy who have the skill required to perform this incantation, and of those that exist, few are willing to risk the spell with the current instabilities in the flow of magic. Those who are willing to try are, quite properly, demanding a significant increase in the usual fees that would be charged for such an enchantment, given its demand on an arcanist’s own life force. And with some of the members of my guild being diverted to the site of the other incursion…”
“Other incursion?” Autumn blurted out. “There’s nothing dangerous about the Fields of Love!”
“Not overtly so, no. However, there has been an increasing problem in the city of losing citizens with valuable skills to the temptations of this particular region and its… unusual influences. Compounding the problem is that beings native to this region have begun wandering out of the incursion zone into the rest of the city, beings who are apparently able to create the same sorts of influences in those they encounter. We can attribute at least one death to an entity from the Fields of Love – a bricklayer who apparently took in one of these creatures for his personal pleasure. So much pleasure, apparently, that he neglected to feed himself for several weeks. I’m told the grin on the face of the corpse was quite unnerving. So we have sent some of our wizards out to locate these creatures and deal with them as well. Our primary fear is that an entity from the Fields of Love might end up entering the Nightmare Realm, and we do not like the implications inherent in that particular combination.”
Autumn shuddered involuntarily at the thought. “Point taken, Tazlin. Do what you can to convince your people to keep at it, and we will do what we can to give them the support they need.” Bail knows where I’ll find it, though. She’d devoted a large chunk of her personal fortune into getting the city back on its feet, and had squeezed every noble and merchant she could find for more gold.
“It might be of some help if we could confer with your husband, the Court Wizard,” Tazlin said. “He is currently the closest thing we have to an expert on the subject of this Dream Realm, and his insights might prove useful to us.”
“The Duke-Consort is away at the moment,” he didn’t say where he was going, or why, or how long he’d been gone, “attending to other affairs of state.” Or off getting himself killed, or having a nervous breakdown. “When he returns, I will deliver your request.” Right after I beat him to a pulp.
Autumn heard other reports from Auror and her other advisors, none of them encouraging. Refugees swelled the city walls, depleting food stores rapidly. Crime was up, tax collection was down. Crop yields were expected to be poor this year, due to a combination of land lost to the Taurics or the Dream Realm overlays, and farmers killed by the war or the Dream Realm incursion. The Imperial army had withdrawn to Noxolt to aid in relief and reconstruction efforts in the capital, leaving only ducal forces under her command. And a private report, given to her by her spymaster, confirmed for Autumn what Arrie had warned her about weeks ago; that some of the noble families, both inside and outside of Vargex, were making plans to use the current chaos to improve their position. King Tanach of Erumian had already survived an assassination attempt.
Rubbing her temples, Autumn dismissed her spymaster and slumped down in her chair the moment he was gone. She felt numb, drained of all emotion. The urge to pack up her things and simply run gnawed at her soul, but she forced herself to shove those thoughts aside. There was too much of that going on in her home as it was. More than anything, she felt alone. Everyone had gone their separate ways after their return from the Dream Realm, recognizing that there were several tasks best accomplished if they split up. Arrie was wandering around Affon, checking up on family and friends. Tolly had gone to Medos to brief the Divinity Council and urge them into action. Lanara had been summoned to Noxolt by the Emperor himself, no doubt to help him negotiate with the Tauric Empire. Osborn was somewhere in Targeth, or what was left of it, attending to business there. And Kyle…
“Where are you, Kyle?” she asked herself quietly. “When are you coming home?”
* * *
Kyle arrived in the woods just east of Aleppi, the journey here significantly easier than it had been the first time. He chose to walk to the little logging village of Canyon Camp, since he didn’t know how they’d react to him just appearing in the middle of the village. When Kyle arrived, his presence caused little commotion among the villagers. Loggers, he thought, hard to rattle them. No one seemed to recognize him as he passed through, except for one person.
He had trouble placing the name when he first saw the elf-touched woman running up to him, her deer-antler headdress bobbing up and down slightly. She stopped a respectful distance away.
“You’re the wizard, Kyle, aren’t you?” she said. “Welcome back to Canyon Camp.” She saw the blank look on his face, and smiled. “Priestess Sisz. I’m not surprised you have trouble recalling my name. I’m afraid I didn’t make much of an impression on people back then.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling. Still having problems with that Rovenori priest?”
“Who, Kath? He left about a year ago. Hard to keep the priest of a god of travelers in one spot for long. But I wouldn’t say I ever had problems with him – he was just never one for mutual respect.”
“Another feeling I’ve known,” Kyle said.
Sisz smiled. “So, what brings you here?”
“Curiosity,” Kyle replied. “I was hoping to ask someone about the shadar-kai.”
Sisz’s face darkened. “What would you want with them?”
“Information. I have a theory relating to the recent troubles around Aelfenn with the Dr… with these strange creatures that have been showing up.”
“Well, I doubt you’ll get much out of them,” Sisz said. “They’re an unpleasant bunch of fey.”
Kyle’s brow furrowed. “Have there been problems?”
“No, not really,” she said looking away into the forest, in the direction of the shadar-kai territory. “They’ve held to their end of our agreement, and haven’t attacked our people. For the most part they keep to themselves. When we do have to interact with them, though, they’re generally arrogant and hostile. I doubt there’s anyone in town who could give you any information better than that.” She looked up at Kyle. “Do you think they’re responsible for these creatures? We haven’t seen any here, but we’ve heard tales.”
“Not responsible, but possibly related,” Kyle said. “It looks like I’m going to have to do it the hard way.” He sighed, then turned his attention to the town. “Everything here is the same, I take it?”
“Heavy demand for timber because of the war,” Sisz said. “But normal. Is it true that the Tauric army has retreated now that the Many have come to Affon to fight on our behalf?”
Kyle bit his lip. “The war is currently in a cease-fire,” he said carefully, “until everyone can figure out what exactly is going on.”
“I’m thinking of making a pilgrimage to M’Dos,” Sisz said. “The opportunity to actually see Bles in person is the chance of a lifetime. For all we know, maybe the eleven Paragons will return as well!”
“Or one of them, anyway,” Kyle muttered darkly.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. So, is the Whistling Satyr still around? I’d like a room for the night before I set off.”
“I’ll walk you there,” Sisz said. “Where will you be going in the morning?”
“To the standing stones,” Kyle said. “To talk to the shadar-kai.”
* * *
Tolly walked along the dry, dusty road, his armor flashing in the spring sun. He made his way toward the small town at a steady but unhurried pace; even though he was wanting to make good time to his destination, he knew that today he would not accomplish this. Normally he would be traveling under the effect of an air walk spell, and would probably have finished the trip in three or four days. But he’d gone on foot the past two days; somehow the concept of flying through the air during the Earthturning festival seemed… sacrilegious.
His announcement to his brothers in M’Dos at the Cathedral of Eminent Order that he would not be staying there for the upcoming festival had met with a variety of responses. Of course, his demotion from his previous position as Inquisitor Primus was well known, and many simply assumed that this decision was part of whatever heresy he’d performed that had caused him to lose that title. Others assumed he was on some sort of special mission for the Archprelate, or the Alliance. The truth was that he just needed to get out of the city, and these days he no longer felt as strongly as he once did about spending Earthturning among fellow Ardarans. His faith did not require company to remain strong. Apparently, Kupa held a similar opinion; he’d flown off just before Earthturning had started, saying that he had his own observances to make, and that he would meet up with Tolly at his destination.
He’d spent the past four weeks in M’Dos, conferring with the Divinity Council about the current situation. Or at least, that’s what he’d intended, but since conferring requires the active participation of both sides, he’d probably have to describe what he’d been doing as lecturing. The Council, true to form, was wrapped up in their own affairs and seemed to pay the Ardaran priest and his stories about a ‘Dream Realm’ and ‘returning arch-psions’ little heed. On some level, Tolly could hardly blame them – after all, it wasn’t every day that the Divinity Council had to deal with the issue of having their deities living among them.
Several of the Many had taken refuge within their own temples in M’Dos, and this had thrown the city, indeed the entire country, into disorder. There were questions of leadership and authority, with some saying that the representatives of the Council should step aside in favor of their deific patrons. Duties and responsibilities were being shirked as clergy flocked to the temples to receive wisdom directly from their gods. And the city was now choked with pilgrims, hoping for a glimpse of the divine before they set off to war. For it was a widely held belief that the Many had descended to Affon to join the war against the Taurics, a belief that was still being propagated by the churches. After all, it was reasoned, only the One and the Four were worshipped among the Taurics, which was why those gods could not be accounted for; but the Many were Affon’s gods, and would fight to defend it.
With so much chaos in the air, it was small wonder that Tolly found M’Dos ill-suited for reverence to Ardara. You’re dwelling too much on the problems behind you, he told himself. Focus your thoughts on something more pleasant. Focus your thoughts on Her.
Immediately, an image of sparkling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair entered his mind. With more effort that he thought it would require, he dismissed the errant thought. That wasn’t the Her he’d meant.
Within an hour, Tolly was entering the town. It was a small trading community, close to the border with the Khag Steppes, and so he wasn’t surprised to find a few hin running around. But most of the town’s population seemed to be gathering around the central square, surrounding a small wooden platform. Tolly wandered up to the crowd, remaining in the back. On the platform was a figure wearing magistrate’s robes and another in common clothing, standing next to an earthenware vessel.
Tolly was very familiar with this ritual. On the second day of Earthturning, the names of every convicted criminal in the community was inscribed on clay tokens, and these tokens, along with a few blank tokens, were mixed into a clay vessel. The local Ardaran priest, or local magistrate, would draw a single token from the vessel. According to the Ardaran church, the name drawn would be that of a criminal who was wrongly convicted, and this person would immediately be pardoned and set free. If a blank token was drawn, then it meant that all who were currently convicted of crimes had been jailed lawfully. Tolly knew that even though the Archprelates had sworn that Ardara’s Mercy was infallible, many communities opted to ‘forget’ to scribe tokens for the most serious and violent offenders. He wasn’t quite sure what the role of the second person on the platform was; normally the priest or magistrate presided over the ceremony alone.
The magistrate had started speaking, and the crowd grew quiet. “And now that Ardara has bestowed her mercy upon this man,” he indicated the commoner standing next to him, “the task falls to him to choose who Ardara shall Judge.” The commoner reached into the vessel and began rummaging around.
Tolly watched carefully, now understanding more. He’d heard rumors of this particular variation of the Ardara’s Mercy ceremony, something that had sprung up in outlying communities in recent years. He was surprised to see it in Medos, even this far from the capital. According to what he’d heard, Ardara’s Judgment was performed after Ardara’s Mercy, and the name drawn was supposed to indicate the name of a person who was guilty of an undiscovered crime. The church had not taken an official position on the practice yet, as the practice varied widely. The rumors about the ritual were indicating that it was often accurate, so if the Prelate Council did act on it, it would most likely be to standardize the practice.
The man had grabbed on to a token, and now held it aloft for all to see. When the cheers dies down, he handed the token to the magistrate. The magistrate glanced at the token, frowned, and spoke quietly to the man with him. The crowd quickly grew impatient.
“There has been an error,” the magistrate finally announced. “The name that has been drawn is not valid. Another token will be drawn.” The man reached into the vessel again, this time producing a token right away that he handed over to the magistrate as though it was on fire. A dark look crossed the magistrate’s face as he looked at the second token.
“Captain!” he shouted to a guardsman standing nearby, “I thought you had verified the accuracy of these tokens!”
“I did, Your Honor,” he man said. “Checked them myself this morning.”
“Then how do you explain this?” The magistrate thrust the two tokens into the captain’s hands.
“They both say ‘Silko’,” the captain gasped aloud. “But… that’s impossible…”
“I’m sure it is, because I think that if the Paragon of Heroes was currently in our jail, I would know about it,” snapped the magistrate. “Another name will be drawn, and there will be an inquiry into this mockery of Ardara on her holiest days.” The magistrate himself thrust his hand into the jar and pulled out a token. And then another. Then another. His face grew blacker with each token he read. Finally, with a cry of rage, the magistrate tipped over the vessel, and clay tokens scattered everywhere.
“Whoever is responsible for this travesty will be caught and punished for their crime! This ceremony is over!”
The confused and slightly nervous crowd began to disperse. Slowly, Tolly made his way up to the platform, and looked down at the pile of broken tokens, all of which bore the same name.
Your will be done, Ardara, he prayed silently. If I have anything to say about it, then the judgment you have proclaimed will come to pass.
* * *
To my friends in the Legacy,
I’ve struggled for a while on how to bring you this news. My first instinct, of course, is to compose a ballad about it. However, with all of us scattered Feesha knows where across this continent, it wouldn’t be very practical to get you all together for a concerto. And I don’t think any of you read musical notation, so that wouldn’t work well. Even if you could, there would be the question of what style of notation to use. While Elvish notation would seem the simplest choice, the nature of the song would probably go best with dwarven melodic rune-script.
But I digress, as is my nature.
In the end, I think that rather than write five separate letters and track each of you down, it’s better to write one and leave it at the one place you will all be coming back to eventually – Autumn’s home in Vargas.
I say ‘you will be coming back’ instead of ‘we will be coming back’ for one simple reason – I will not be seeing you for a while.
I have been designated as the chief negotiator for the Alliance and placed directly under Emperor Haxtha. Putting aside my talent for innuendo for the moment, this means that for all intents and purposes I am an Imperial official, at least for the time being. I’ve been charged with opening a dialogue with the leaders of the Tauric Empire in the hopes of negotiating a more permanent arrangement. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll do this – even I’m not good enough to convince them that turning around and going back to a devastated continent is a good idea – but I’m sure I’ll think of something.
I could have turned this offer down. But the truth is that this is what I’m good at, and right now I badly need a dose of self-confidence. But part of my price for agreeing to this position is to receive some additional training in some skills I’ve neglected – if part of my problem is feeling like I’m not as useful to you as I could be, then I guess it’s up to me to step outside my comfort zone and fix that problem.
I have every intention of coming back to you as soon as I can – I’m not pulling a Madrone here. But until I can come back and allow you all to once again bask in the glory of my presence, I’ll leave you with some words of wisdom. (Yes, Tolly, I am capable of it when the occasion calls).
Actually, Tolly, I may as well start with you. There are some old issues in your life that aren’t as resolved as you think they are. I’m not even sure you’re fully aware of it yourself. If it ever comes down to it, trust that things will work out as they were meant to, and resist the urge to meddle. Hopefully, this advice will never make any sense to you, because the situation will never come up.
Arrie, I really don’t have much I need to say to you. You seem to have pulled yourself together quite a bit since we left the Dream Realm, so I guess I don’t have to find a polite and creative way of saying ‘don’t go crazy and kill us all’. I know you only have four years left before your deal with Herion expires and you have to go back to being a full-time princess – make the most of them.
Kyle, you worry me. I think you take on too much guilt, too much responsibility for what’s happened. Maybe it’s the burden of an overactive conscience, I don’t know. But there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to stop you going down the road you’re looking down. No one but you. You really don’t want to go down that road, Kyle, and you know it. Don’t realize it after it’s too late.
Autumn, the one thing I’d tell you is to remind you that you can’t control everything. And that sometimes the best way to handle a situation is to do nothing. Stick with your strengths, but realize that you have more strengths than you give yourself credit for.
Osborn – it seems like you have things well in hand, or at least as well as they can get these days. My thoughts will be winging their way to you while I’m gone.
Take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you soon. Hopefully at the head of a parade in my honor.
Lanara Rahila
* * *
Arrie walked slowly among the teeming throngs of people in the refugee camp, her eyes scanning the many blank faces staring back at her.
It had been a depressing trip so far.
She’d started by returning to her birthplace, the kingdom of Merlion. Damen and Corissane, her cousins, were still seated comfortably on the thrones of the kingdom; their small realm was too insignificant in the eyes of most nobles in Tlaxan to make good targets. Her brother Aiden was also still in his position as the twins’ steward, and appeared to be juggling his responsibilities to them and his responsibilities as the Lord Verahannen fairly well. With nothing concerning going on, Arrie left quickly, so that her family would not be unduly burdened with the responsibility of ‘receiving a member of the Imperial Family’.
In another four years, they may come to see me as nothing more than ‘a member of the Imperial Family’, she thought glumly. Though she was glad that her family was well, she couldn’t help but think about the father she’d lost, and would never see again.
She’d headed south next, across the Dwarven Confederates and into the Khag Steppes, looking for signs of her next target. Along the way she’d spoken to many people, and learned much about what they believed or were being told about recent events. She’d also had the occasion to defend herself or others against marauding dream-creatures, and was beginning to gain a disturbingly good sense of how to fight these anomalies. Still, she’d only come out of some of those scrapes by the skin of her teeth.
Death is but another step on the journey, she’d reminded herself, her mind leaving out the part about how for her that step would likely be the last. Down that road lay doubt, and fear, and madness.
She’d finally found what she was looking for – the Amazing Traveling Circus. Or, what was left of it. She learned that the circus troupe had largely dispersed when the war broke out, with many of them going to join the Hin Irregulars fighting for the Alliance. Only a few had returned, and many of those were wounded. Osborn’s mother, Lillian, was there, healing from a wound in her thigh. Her husband, Bartlebee, had not come back from the war, and Osborn’s twin brother Gerald had been missing for months.
Arrie fought back tears as she felt the weight of the dagger she had stashed inside her boot. “It was Barty’s favorite,” Lillan had told her, “and I think he would’ve wanted Osborn to have it. He was always proud of his son.”
She paused for a moment to clear her head and refocus. She was now leagues away from the Steppes, and looking for someone else. She returned her attention to the crowds surrounding her. The stench of the camp was nearly overpowering; like all the others she’d been in, this one was overcrowded and poorly organized. Off to her left, she saw an older woman spooning gruel into the mouth of a vacant-eyed, drooling man in tattered robes. She recognized him as one of the wizard instructors from the Tower, no doubt a victim of one of the magical mishaps that now plagued practitioners of magic across Aelfenn. Arrie briefly imagined seeing an incoherent Kyle sitting on the ground, rocking as he was cared for by Autumn. She forced the image out of her mind, more unnerved by the thought than she cared to admit.
She was about to give up and move on when she caught sight of someone that struck a chord with her. She studied the face for a moment to be sure, and then she cautiously approached.
The man was in his early sixties, and bore the scars and weight of a hard life. Thick, callused hands ended in nails that were filled with dirt Arrie imagined would never fully wash away. His sunken cheeks bore the mark of many lean winters, but there was still a spark in his blue-gray eyes. He looked up at her through a mane of graying hair when he saw she was watching him.
“Is your name Rufus?” she asked.
“Ayup,” he replied in a heavy rural drawl. “What’s it to you?”
“I need you to come with me,” Arrie said.
Rufus looked her up and down. “Well,” he said at last, “I’m guessin’ you ain’t a whore, ‘cuz they don’t needs to come out lookin’ for business round here. Judging by what yer packin’, I reckon yer either a slaver or a recruiter. I ain’t much interested in either.”
“I’m not a slaver or a recruiter,” Arrie replied. “My name is Ariadne, and I’m from Tlaxan. I’ve come to take you there.”
He looked her up and down again. “You’ve got the bearin’ of a noble,” he said. “If you’re looking to slum it with the commoners, ain’t you got enough back home?”
Arrie controlled her breathing. Rufus was proving to be as infuriating as his progeny. “Look, I’d rather not explain it all here,” she said. “So let me make this simple.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins, holding them so only Rufus could see them. “I want to get you out of this camp,” she said slowly. “And somewhere where you can get a proper meal and I can explain why I came to find you.”
Rufus looked at the coins, and then at Arrie. Slowly, he stood up, his joints and tendons popping as he rose.
“Well,” he drawled, “you got my attention, miss Ariadne.”
* * *
He knelt inside the circle of standing stones, and focused his awareness on his surroundings. If you’re not here, then where are you? Kyle thought, as he studied the air around him.
He’d searched for two days, and found no trace of the shadar-kai. He’d found their village, the simple dwellings abandoned and empty. But not a sign of the elusive fey could be found.
After several minutes, Kyle caught his first glimpse of a lingering magical aura, near the center of the circle. Concentrating harder, Kyle looked for more flickers of magic, hoping to confirm his suspicions. Slowly, the picture came into focus.
A magical ritual was performed here, he thought as he studied the evidence. A very large one. Conjuration magic… they either brought something here or…no, they sent something away. Lots of somethings…
He was pretty sure what had happened. The shadar-kai had performed some sort of ceremony to return to whatever dimension they’d been hiding in for all the millennia since the Cataclysm. A place, as he recalled Lanara telling them when they’d come here three years ago, that was ‘nowhere’, a place that ‘didn’t exist’.
It was this phrase that had caught in his mind as he’d been thinking about everything they’d learned over the years about their enemies.
Kyle could think of one plane that could be considered ‘nowhere’ and was thought to ‘not exist’. That plane was currently impinging itself all over Aelfenn, and tentacled horrors from that nowhere were rampaging through the land. It was possible, he thought, that the shadar-kai had somehow accessed the Dream Realm after the Cataclysm, hiding there to avoid the aftermath of that event. Perhaps they had even gone there to hide from the gods as they engaged in their crusade against the psions after the Consort’s destruction. Although the concept of a psionically-endowed race of fey was largely inconceivable, given their usual propensity for arcane magic, with everything Kyle had seen in the past four years, he wasn’t willing to rule anything out. But if, in fact, the shadar-kai had come from Dream, then his primary interest was in finding out as much as possible about that realm, and about those psions who utilized it.
Beads of sweat trickled down Kyle’s forehead as he bent his effort to teasing out the most difficult piece of information from the scant remnants of magical power. “Definitely an extra-planar destination,” he said aloud to himself. “Not a planet… what’s that… it looks like…”
The answer clicked into place with the solidity of a door slamming shut. Shadow. The shadar-kai had gone to the Shadow Plane, which was most likely the very place they’d gone all those years ago.
“Damn!” Kyle swore, rising to his feet and stomping around the circle of stones. “Son of a bitch!” He stomped to the center of the circle and screamed at the top of his lungs as he released weeks of pent-up rage. He turned and stomped off, still swearing, kicking at the large stones surrounding the clearing.
There was a fluttering of wings, and a large raven settled on a nearby branch. “Um, boss?” the raven said, “you do realize you’re all alone out here, right? Calm down.”
Kyle whirled to face Violet. “Don’t tell me to calm down! This was the last thing I could think of to track Silko’s people down! Nothing I’ve tried in the past six weeks has worked! All of the psions I know about are warded against divinations, and so is that he-bitch Marrek!”
Violet did not respond to Kyle’s tirade.
“I mean, it’s not exactly like you’ve made any good suggestions! The only idea I have left is using live bait, and I’m not exactly eager to dangle myself on a hook for Kristyan and his ilk!”
“Then why don’t you ask someone else?”
“Right, like I’d put anyone else in that position! What kind of person do you think I am?”
“That’s not what I meant, boss. I meant ask about where the psions are.”
“Ask about where the psions are? Silko and his people aren’t exactly in the habit of making friends on the surface world. Who would you suggest I ask?”
Kyle stared up at Violet. Slowly, the flush in his cheeks faded. He walked over and extended his hand. Violet flapped her wings and settled on Kyle’s shoulder.
“Things didn’t go according to plan, I take it?” she asked.
“No, they didn’t.” He sighed. “And clearly, I’m no longer in a state of mind to keep this up. I guess I should just go back to Vargas and let them know I’ve got nothing to show for my efforts.”
“Don’t give up hope, boss,” Violet said. “Maybe the answer will come to you in a dream or something like that.”
Kyle laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not sure I really want anything from dreams right now, Violet.”
“Suit yourself.” The raven pecked at Kyle’s hair. “Wood tick,” she said, swallowing the tiny insect. “Say, if you don’t need me, there’s a rather lovely dead raccoon off yonder…”
“Have a blast,” Kyle said. “Don’t be gone long. I’m heading back to town and we’re leaving after supper. Some of us can’t live on carrion.”
After Violet flew off, Kyle looked around at the stone circle, and the marks he’d left in the dirt from his outburst. He sighed, and then walked away.
* * *
The wind whipped through Osborn’s hair as he rode swiftly down the road, the only noise the steady padding of Rupert’s feet on the hard-packed earth. He was alone on the road; most people had fled the central regions of Targeth, so there were no travelers to meet, and nothing but abandoned farmhouses and pillaged roadside inns. It was a depressing sight, and did little to lift the hin’s mood.
Since leaving Vargas and making contact with his informants, he hadn’t heard much good news. He’d headed into Targeth first, to see for himself if the rumors of Trageon’s destruction were true. More importantly, he wanted to know how the Shadow Hand had fared. If the leadership had been killed, then Osborn would have a chance of assuming control of his old thieves guild. The Shadow Hand was an influential guild, and had contacts well outside of Targeth, and would be a valuable asset in the Shadow General’s network.
He’d seen from a great distance away that the truth was much worse that he’d imagined. The angry clouds of an enormous magestorm hung over where Trageon had been, flashing with multicolored lightning. The storm rose in a pillar from the ground up into the sky for miles, completely obscuring any sign of the city. He wasn’t able to get a good look at Trageon until he was almost on top of it.
The city was a ruined pile of stone and metal. The Upper City and the Tower had collapsed completely, and the weight of the collapse had caved in the Lower City, leaving a huge, rubble-strewn crater. Shards of glassteel were scattered everywhere, buried in the earth; some were the size of giants. The shards were still razor sharp, and nearly invisible – wandering around, one could easily walk into the edge of a shard and end up bisected before being able to stop. Worse still, Osborn found the bodies of several people, most likely treasure-seekers looking for the Tower’s magical artifacts, whose lungs had been filled with clouds of glassteel dust, and shredded from the inside. They had died drowning in their own blood. If there were any members of the Shadow Hand left, none of them were here. Osborn would have to wait before he could make his bid for control. With a overwhelming sense of melancholy and not a little fear, Osborn retreated from the hellish scene.
Meanwhile, he was still receiving regular reports from his network. His twin brother Gerald, who was in the south posing as the Shadow General, was sending regular dispatches via the invisible silver ravens he’d had made to permit secret communication with his people across Affon. Gerald had sent him a copy of an old map that one of his agents had recovered; detailing the location of what was supposedly a pre-Cataclysm treasure. Osborn had already sent a letter to Lanara asking her to dig up any information she could.
He was also hearing rumors of bands of fanatic Ladtan clergy, forcibly converting entire villages to their goddess and then murdering them en masse, claiming that only Ladta could ensure the continuation of the life-death cycle and end the disturbances in magical power. He was also hearing rumors that the ranks of many of the gods’ cults were swelling with new recruits in the face of recent events. There had been increased attacks on settlers in the Steppes by new bands of Fiel’s Ravagers, and followers of Erito’s Entropic Heresy were gathering in the mountains south of Tlaxan, advocating the hastening of decay and entropy throughout the world. Everywhere he looked, he could see the signs of shaken faith and uncertainty manifesting itself in the worst ways.
There was too much to do, and not enough people to do it. Which was why he’d turned Rupert’s nose west, and headed for the town of Dagger Rock. He needed to talk with Grog, his second-in-command, and he needed to talk with him personally.
The sun was getting low in the sky when the road finally turned in to parallel the river. He stopped for a while to let Rupert rest and get some water while he ate, and then they set off again. After another forty minutes or so, he saw the silhouette of the dagger-shaped protrusion that had given the town its name, casting a long shadow across the water.
The road dipped slightly, and then rose again. What Osborn saw when he crested the hill nearly caused him to fall off his mount.
The entire town of Dagger Rock had vanished. In its place, a strange arcane symbol was scorched into the soil, black against the red light of sunset.
Osborn stared at the scene below him for a while in disbelief, and then looked around to see if there were any other signs of what had happened. Then he turned Rupert around, and urged him into a run.
“Sorry, old boy,” he said as they began to move. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Osborn needed help. And he could think of only one place to get it.
