Vek listened to Jamison’s story. He sat at the table with his gauze-wrapped fingers steepled before his black mask. He was deep in thought. He stayed silent for two full minutes after Jamison stopped talking… then spoke.
“This is very, very bad.” He stood up and crossed his arms behind his back, and went to stand at the window. He looked out at the night sky. “The dragon will retaliate. Even if he believes Kizzlorn is dead, he will make her people suffer for ‘imprisoning’ him. We did NOT need Acessiwal thinking we had captured him.” He turned back around to look at Jamison. “His rage will be terrible.”
The wizard stared at his hands and said “All these years, he was trapped in a mirror, like me. We needn’t have worried about him so much… still, this may work to our advantage.”
“How?”
“When I came from the mirror, I didn’t remember who or what I was. This was partially due to a memory spell I’d cast on myself years back, but the mirror has that effect as well. With both effects, it took me a long time to remember who I was, and I STILL can’t remember what I did when I was evil.”
“You’re suggesting the dragon may have lost portions of his memory.”
“Right. Dragon minds are keen and very clever, but I’m betting he’ll run across a hole or two. Maybe he’ll forget where he lives… or where we live… or why he hates us. Something. This may trip him up long enough to allow us to prepare.”
Vek looked outside again. “Last time, it took him but a few hours to retaliate. I hope you’re right.” He called out. “Captain Metus.”
The soldier appeared. “Yes, my lord.”
“The dragon is coming.” Metus, to his credit, turned pale but did not let it show in his eyes. “Acessiwal. The great elder white wyrm of the north. He has awakened, and it is only a matter of time before he comes to Verbobonc and rains ice and death once more upon us.” He walked towards Metus, speaking slowly with each step. “I want you to post a man with a horn on the tower. He is to blow it should he see the dragon coming. Tomorrow Jamison, Jo’nas, Grumbar and I are going to teleport first to the hive cavern to retrieve our fallen comrades’ lost items.”
“What about Gryph?” Jamison asked.
Without much interest, Vek replied “If Gryph attacks, I will kill him. We will collect the items then teleport to Greyhawk to have them fully identified. We will purchase everything we need… potions, weapons, scrolls, wands… anything we can use. Three scrolls of resurrection for our fallen friends. We will need them in the fight. We will then come back and wait here. The soonest we’ll be ready is tomorrow afternoon. Let us hope Jamison is right, and the dragon will be delayed.”
“My lord?” Metus spoke and his voice quavered, giving away the fear he surely felt freezing his marrow. “What would you have me do?”
“Your job, Captain Metus,” Vek laid a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “will be the most important.”
Godsday, 18TH of Patchwall
Kizzlorn opened her eyes and sat up. “Welcome back,” Jo’nas said with a smile.
She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched. “What happened?”
“Uh… I think we should wait for the others to come back first, then we’ll fill you in. There’s a lot you need to be brought up to speed on.”
“Oh, THIS sounds like fun…” She looked around and saw she was lying on a table wearing a robe. There were two tables to her left and on one was a severed hand, and on the other was a mangled, wet chunk of flesh. “Who were they?”
“Orthos and Shade.”
She grunted and stood up. “Being resurrected is an odd thing to experience.” Jo’nas laughed and nodded as he prepared the next scroll. Kizz yawned and continued. “It’s something like waking up from the deepest sleep of your life. Being resurrected from a small piece of your body is even stranger, though, because when you are brought back, your entire body is as it was when you died… but it’s new. Your consciousness and spirit are planted into a body you’re familiar with, but have never used. Your joints creak oddly as you use them for the first time. You have scars, though your body never earned them. Your hair is as you wore it before, though it wasn’t cut, nor combed.”
“Your hair’s always a mess anyway, Kizz,” Jo’nas said. She laughed and ran a hand through her unkempt yet ever-striking red hair. She wandered into the next room.
Here, Vek, Jamison, and Grumbar were looking over the room. The floor’s expanse was covered with magic items and armor taken from the treasure in the hive cavern. “Good morning, Kizzlorn,” Jamison said.
“Good morning. Where are we? I don’t recognize this place.”
“We’re in Greyhawk… in the Temple of Fharlanghn.”
“Greyhawk? Why? …I know, I know, you’ll tell all when the others are up and about.” She sat down. “One thing, though… Gryph?”
Jamison shook his head. “I’m sorry. It looks like whatever was controlling things psionically in the cavern has taken him as a slave. He wasn’t there when we went back to retrieve the items. Your things are over there, by the way.” He pointed to a blanket in the corner of the room, where her things were laid out. Snooky the pseudodragon cat was curled on her knapsack. He looked up, stretched, and jumped up into her arms.
“Hey, Snooky!” she scratched him behind the ears. “How are you?”
I’m fine. I was left in the cavern, but I just stayed in the knapsack until Jamison came back to fetch everything.
“How’d you know they’d BE back?”
The cat looked elsewhere and angled his ears differently, which is of course the feline version of a shrug. I have faith in the group. One of you may turn against the others now and then, but you wouldn’t leave someone behind. I just sat in the sack and ate my kitty treats.
Kizz began tickling his belly. “You just sit there too often. Most of the time we forget you’re there, my little Snookadoo…”
I very rarely have anything to say.
Vek was discussing the expenditure of funds with Jamison. “Okay… so we’ll sell all the weapons we gained. It’s unfortunate that the plate armor we now have is dwarf-sized… I will need a full suit of powerful armor before tonight.” Vek’s last suit had been destroyed when he was disintegrated, back in Hommlet.
“Armor? Of course!” Jamison got up and opened the group’s bag of holding. He conjured from it what they had taken from Hedrack’s body after the incident on Fear’s Eve. He laid it out. A full suit of coal-black armor, embossed with horrid designs and covered with spikes. “Will this do?”
Vek examined the armor. “Wonderfully. Except I don’t think I will be using this helmet.” He tossed the plain helmet aside. “Let it never be said that Sir Vek Mormont went into the world to do Wee Jas’s work wearing anything less but the most fearsome adornments available.”
He chuckled and took an item from amongst the treasure they’d taken from the cavern. “This will be the new face of the champion of the ruby sorceress.”
Jamison smiled and said “I imagine it looks an awful lot like your REAL face.”
Vek laughed at the wizard’s joke. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose you’re right.” He placed the item on the suit of armor and spoke in a somber voice. “It’s only right that we look the part. We must be in top form. We must be at our strongest and most ready for this evening… Tonight, Hell flies on white wings.”
MORE TO COME…
