The Liberation of Tenh (updated April 24)

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Readye'en 28, CY 593

9: Wherein cruelties are witnessed, and Elijah becomes a Thing That Goes Bump In the Night.

Elijah and Dimethius begin scouting the mine complex. They see that the main structure is a fortified keep with an artificial moat, set against a butte mesa. Atop the mesa, several wooden guard towers have been constructed, and are most likely the highest point for several miles.

To either side of the keep, gigantic statues nestle in alcoves, each icon reaching fifty feet in height. The statues depict human figures, although their features are indistinct. They clasp their hands across their chest in a funeral-pose, and wear some sort of headdress.

In front of the keep, a sprawling, filthy tent-city slowly decomposes. The tents are occupied however, and drunken Stonefisters, bugbears, goblins, giants, ettins and giant-sized Stonefisters are observed milling about. At several points during the day, the drawbridge lowers, and a cowering Tenha emerges pushing a wagon-cart filled with foodstuffs. The Men of the Fist eat first, followed by the giants, then the humanoids.

Over the course of several days, Elijah watches the Stonefisters engage in a cruel ritual: they release one of the food-bearing slaves, and chase her on foot. They catch her close to the edge of camp, and lame her. Gloating over her struggles, the Stonefisters watch her die. Elijah stoically awaits her opening.

The next evening, she gets it. The Fisters release another slave, but this time they let the young boy run well clear of the camp, chasing him, and apparently intending to run him to death. Elijah slips in behind the four barbarians, following them by their torchlight. She uses her hat of disguise to take the appearance of a fellow Stonefister, and begins the hunt.

She surprises her first victim handily, and dispatches the cruel fellow before he even has a chance to free his greatsword from its scabbard. She assumes his form and begins trailing her next target. The second falls as easily as the first with none of the Fisters the wiser.

Although she does not speak Frosttounge, the third barbarians' reaction tells her that he was expecting just such a betrayal from his companion. If he is confused by his associate's use of two swords it doesn't slow him one iota as his pupils dilate and his skin flushes. He shouts for help in his cropped language, while avoiding the worst of her first assault. The grimy brute bulls his way inside Elijah's guard and uses his superior height to knock her off balance and force her to absorb the full impact of his greatsword blow. Elijah gives him a hug with her swords, cutting him once, twice and again, slicing him deeply along his back and severely hampering the use of his right arm. The Fister is dead on his feet, but his iron will and adrenaline fueled rage keep him fighting, even if he seems to have trouble focusing on Elijah.

The last Fister sees two things in short order: the dead body of Elijah's second victim, and the second victim, seemingly alive and well, cutting his fellow hunter into ribbons. The barbarian shouts a word over and over, then runs for the safety of camp.

Elijah, who had hoped to leave one of the Fisters alive, looks over the badly mangled corpse of her victim, and reflects on how difficult it can be not to kill people with a pair of razor-sharp masterwork weapons in your hands.

She quickly finds the hunted boy, and using a mixture of pidgin Tenha and common, convinces him that she is taking him to a great "Tenha Lord". Imagine the lad's surprise when he is not taken to Eyeh, but a small encampment of grizzled looking Furyondians and a tall Flan named Heydricus.

The boy introduces himself as Looish. It quickly becomes apparent that he has some strange assumptions about life, and has lived the majority of his life in the mines at Cur'ruth, under the leadership of a Tenha named Aiman. Aiman is the Lord who keeps the Tenha in the mines safe from Iuzian deprivation. In exchange, the Tenha slaves produce ore and food for the followers of the Old One, and suffer only the occasional murder out-of-hand.

But before the exhausted slave can make his thanks to the gods for his deliverance, and sleep, he tells Heydricus that recently things have not been going well. The Iuzians seem unusually agitated, and have been killing slaves at a prodigious rate. The boy is too young to be let into the council of elders, but he knows that something is disturbing the Tenha miners as well. Perhaps the gods have sent Heydricus to Cur'ruth just in the nick of time.

-----

Next: A strange visitor brings unwholesome tidings!
 

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Coldeven 1, CY 593

10: The postman always rings twice: Elijah takes note of an Vile Mystery, and a visitor brings news from home.

After her bloody run in with the sporting Stonefisters, Elijah returns to her vigil over the tent-city and is rewarded by witnessing a most strange phenomenon.

Hoping to spot some reaction amongst the Stonefist ranks from her 'hunt', she instead returns to camp with disturbing news. Toward nightfall she watched several priests of Iuz directing a large group of slaves. The slaves were pulling a massive slab of stone, that was itself balanced on a series of trees, stripped into the shape of rollers. On the slab was some sort of colossal object, approximately tewnty five feet long, and ten feet wide, by ten feet tall. The object is covered by a greasy-looking thin shroud-like cloth. The object is rolled to just outside of the fortress gates, where the slab is removed from its rollers. A pair of black-robed humanoids exit the fortress and take up positions watching over the object. The stonefisters themselves seem quite frightened of it, and begin a series of drunken dares, apparently proving their courage to one another by venturing near the thing.

After Elijah's report, the party is mulling this development when Heydricus gets the haunting sensation that he is being watched. Afraid that he is being scryed, he slips into a dark recess of the cave and draws his sword. Sure enough, the sensation is swiftly followed by the slight pop and hiss that is the sonic signature of a teleport spell. A small figure appears within a few feet of Heydricus' position, and whispers "hello?".

No Iuzian lackey this, but an outrageously expensive messenger sent by Halrond (the Fourth, his Inimical Magnificence, Prolocutor of Tritherion, etc.) with a command to contact him with an update on the party's activities. The messenger ("Horatio the Halfling's Friend-Finder Service -- no fee too large, no Plane too small. If they at least partially exist, we can find them") went first to Hommlet, and while there, brought with her the party's mail, which had been accumulating at Kelanen's Rest.

Here are the letters, with all spelling and punctuation faithfully translated from the original, arranged by date with the undated messages listed last:

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(on plain parchment, hastily folded and unsealed)
Fireseek, the Third, CY 593
heydricus -- construction ahead of schedule on project designated homlet I -- kelanen's rest to proceed now with construction of project designated hommlet II -- orphanage please advise -- dumrick deepen master builder -- see attached cost revision approve or deny

-----

(Plain parchment, rolled and bound)
Fireseek 13
Sir Heydricus,
Word of your fame has reached my ears here in Veluna, and I salute your success.
I cast the gauntlet. I am the greatest fighter in the land, and intend to prove it.
I do not hide behind a title.
I am,
Vestifal Margrove, Scourge of the Sheildlands,
Charterhouse Royale,
Veluna
p.s.: I will take any silence as a sign of cowardice.

-----

(plain parchment, neatly folded, and stamped with the Seal of the Magical Services Guild, Furyondy)
Fireseek 28
Heydricus, etc.
To Wit: An invoice of alchemical and magikal supplies was drawn against your account by Anton Flamehair to the sum of four thousand sixty-two gold inclusive.
As you are aware, it is our most stringent policy that all ledgers in excess of twenty pieces of silver be paid within one month of reciept.
In light of your high position in the halls of government I have personally authorized an extension through the month of Readye'en, but I must request payment in full at your earliest convinience. I am sure that neither of us wish to see this matter brought to public mediation.
May I apologize in advance for any inconvinience this might cause.
Your Humble Servant,
Mardello Etun,
Proprietor,
Living Alchemy and Transubstantiation,
Chendl

-----

(Scratched into the back of a broad leaf)
Readye'en 6
Gnomer! Where are you?
Gnomio has stolen my clothes, and the oak tree supporting the central shrine is a Treant! Worse yet, he wants to move to the other end of the forest!
What should I do?
Need help desperately, love,
Gnomishic
p.s.: Goblins set the storehouse on fire and killed Nurin and Hobble.

-----

(Written in sloppy, small writing onto a piece of thin rose-scented vellum)
Readye'en 9
It is difficult for me to draw ink into a pen, so please forgive my brevity and accept my fondest wishes for all further success against wickedness.
I keep you all in my thoughts and prayers.
Sending you Boundless Love In the name of the Seven Holies,
Fräs
(a cat's paw print follows)

-----

(written in a sloppy, hurried handwriting on thin, rose-scented vellum)
Readye'en 9
Dearest Pris,
Is it possible, my dear, that you might supply me with a letter of introduction to your master &/or the Sages of Spellcraft in Chendl that I migh be permitted to research a spell of non-detection??
This would please me greatly.
Please send your letter by first post -- promise the messenger any reasonable sum and I shall double the amount! A matter of most urgent priorities, you understand
My regards,
Jespo Crim

-----

(A carefully folded parchment, stamped with the Royal Seal of Furyondy)
Readye'en 15
It is our wish that we be kept abreast of your endeavors against our foe. Thrommel sends his best wishes.
Signed, this day in the court of Furyondy, Chendl,
His Pious Majesty, The King of Furyondy, etc.,
Belvor IV

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(A plain parchment sealed with the Holy Cudgel of St. Cuthbert)
Readye'en 22
In the Name of St. Cuthbert of the Cudgel Temis Veil Commands you to Zeal.
To the Cudgel of the Temple:
I am the Abbot of the Cuthbertian Nunnery at Verbobonc. Keriann Croller is my Disciple and Charge. She may have Spoken of me.
I put pen to parchment in the Hope that you my lift a veil of Confusion blinding my sight. Three days ago, Sister Keriann failed to appear for her duly appointed duties. She often spoke Fondly of you, and it is my Hope that this missive finds the Good Sister safely in your Company.
Please ask her to reply by messenger at once. This is a Request and a Command.
In the spirit of our faith, I have the pleasure to be, etc.,
The Right and Firm Abbot Veil

-----

Not Dated
(Written in a clumsy, childlike hand)
To Heydricus the swordfiter (sic)
Will you teach me to fite evel Evel? I am six. My name is bandor Bullfinch
Esril says you are the greatest sword-fiter she has ever seen
I want to be the greatest fiter in Chendl, and dad says I have to beet Esril to be the bes grandest fiter.

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Not Dated
(Written in a mincing, careful script.)
Dearest Ethel,
How are you? The weather here is fine. My arthritis is acting up, and Gall is fine as well.
Can you come home soon? Leilah is very sick, and there is some ne'er-do-well who says he is your son, but he is drunk at all hours, and is frightening the children.
Also, may I have some gold? The landlord says he will throw us out on our ears if we don't pay him soon.
Love,
Your Faithful Sister,
Maude

-----

Not Dated
(Rolled and sealed, stamped with the Great Seal of Chendl, the Seal of the Office of Provost-Marshall Commerce, and the Seal of the Guild of Cartographers and Scribes, Chendl)
My darling Heydricus,
I have the honor to request your presence Fireseek the First at the ball celbrating our daughter Marguerite's Coming Out.
Please R.S.V.P.
I have the Honor to be your Faithful Servant and Sword Marshall of the Realm of Chendl, Jewel of Furyondy,
The Provost-Marshall Commerce,
Reine

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Not Dated
(A thin, heavily perfumed note of hand-woven paper)
Heydricus,
Will you make availiability for a social appearance at my annual Rite of Spring Bacchanalia?
Provide nothing save your charm, and wear little.
Your darling,
Maleen

-----

Not Dated
(A carefully folded parchment with vellum overlays cut into the shapes of dragons rampant. Written in an elegant and formal script)
Sir Heydricus,
It is my fondest hope that you will do me the Honor of appearing before court Readye'en the Twentieth for the Knighting of my son, Alumain the Second.
As you know, he dotes on your memory, and still has the whetstone you so gallantly lent him at last summer's tilt.
In brotherhood,
Sir Fellon IV, Knight of Furyondy

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Not Dated
(A small, folded note, perfumed with a lilac scent)
Heydricus,
I cannot put you out of my mind. Tell me you feel the same.
Yours eternally,
Maia

-----

Not Dated
(Written in a shaky script)
Dearest Pris,
I hope you are well, and keeping warm up north. Are you wearing the cloak I gave you for festival? Your grandfather and I love the new horses you bought. The bay is taking to the plow despite all of her high-stepping military training.
Goblin died. He was getting to old to hunt, and grandpa put him down with your old crossbow.
You may remember the Spinners from next farm over? Well, they passed away this winter. Grandpa and I were hoping to buy their farm, but we are a few Royals short. Could you send more money? I don't want to sell my mother's jewelry, but I will if I have to.
Tell that handsome friend of yours (the tall one) hello for me, and don't forget to go to church.
Love,
Grandma

-----


The characters spread out around their hide-out while they read their post. A frail, diffused silver light slips in from the outside, a cold rainy day. Torches gutter and smoke in crude hand-made sconces, and the place smells like burning wood and too many unbathed men in a confined space. The lads are quiet, not at all in their usual bantering mood.

The party is reading and re-reading thier letters from home, accumulated these past two months in Hommlet. As Curst is about to re-seal the bag containing the post, a small, wrinkled piece of unidentifiable parchment falls to the cave floor. The scrap is tan in color, creased and crisp, not pliable at all. The material is familiar, somehow. There is a one sentence message scratched into it's surface, and stained dark brown: "We have not forgotten you".

-----

Next: Prisasntha and Elijah fight for their lives in a Swamp Not of their own Making! Heydricus Unravels a Sinister Plot! The Return of Jespo Crim -- or "Why is Fras Eating out of Garbage Cans?"
 

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Coldeven 2, CY 593

11: In which a mysterious thread is pursued, and the Tip of the Iceberg revealed.

Having finished with his correspondence, Gnomer stalks out of the cave muttering darkly, and shortly afterward Ethel flies into a nervous fit, bemoaning her sister's incompetence in overly loud tones while fidgeting with her knitting projects.

Curst approaches Heydricus with a scheme whereby he proposes to set up a gambling ring, with the profits funneled back into the payroll fund. He promises Heydricus a 45-60% reduction in payroll expenditure, and crowingly brags that he'll make his own yearly salary back for Heydricus in one month. Heydricus has other things on his mind, and absentmindedly dismisses Curst while turning the strange, leathery note over in his hands.

Heydricus and Prisantha regard one another over the mysterious unsigned note. Elijah seems to sense their unease and moves protectively near the pair. A close examination of the leathery parchment shows a mark that could be a tattoo. Elijah recognizes it as half of Tritherion's holy symbol, and Heydricus recalls a crusader of Tritherion he used to know . . .

A dark realization comes over him, and Heydricus asks Prisantha to scry Aelniir, but the pool remains gray and indistinct.

Time to go to Hommlet.

Prisantha and Heydricus gear up, and place Elijah in charge (with instructions to keep Curst away from the lad's silver). Prisantha teleports herself and Heydricus to the dirt road just outside of town, a few hundred yards away from Kelanen's Rest.

The duo move behind the inn, and unseen, examine the small graveyard for the Fallen Heroes of the Temple. They count graves, and find all eighteen seemingly undisturbed. Heydricus takes a moment to read the makeshift grave-markers that are the only worldly recognition of his companion's sacrifice. Wincing as he mentally re-lives the death, after death after death of his friends, he fondly reads the wordy inscription carved into expensive stone heading the grave of Pippin, and finally comes to the brief and half-finished wooden markers the later dead received:

"Egil. BNR, bludgeoned by giants",

"Lady Amyryth, we hardly knew you."

"Lucius Maturin, he ain't liked nobody"

"Anton Rex, a Real Burner from Almor, died quick", and

"Tisha -- the ogre got her".

Prisantha leaves Heydricus to his reverie, and walks to her grandparent's farm. She is greeted at the low stone wall by her grandmother, who has hiked her skirt up around her knees and is running as fast as her chubby legs will carry her.

Heydricus walks into the half-finished Inn, and finds a group of half-drunken dwarves sitting on half-chairs around a partially carved wooden table. The dwarven foreman tipsily takes his feet and greets Heydricus, then begins to complain about the stonemason. Apparently, the stonemason has been complaining about the dwarves, and as a result, the monies taken from the sacking of the Temple and allocated by Furyondy to rebuild Hommlet have been frozen.

The argument? The dwarves refuse to build in wood, complaining that even elves aren't stupid enough to kill the tree before making a home out of it, and pointing out that the first good tornado to come along would snatch a wooden inn from its solid, dwarven-built stone foundation, and then where would you be?

Never one to argue with a drunken dwarf, Heydricus proposes this solution: the dwarven crew should undertake to finally finish Andras' tower, and leave the inn to Hommlet's population. Finally a human with some sense. Problem solved, and toasted with ale.

By this point, Heydricus' presence in town has been noted, and the Hommlet folk begin gathering around the inn, sunnily greeting their hero. A general work-stoppage is called, and a party hastily planned for the evening.

Heydricus walks to the farm owned by Prisantha's grandparents, and finds her grandpa leaning on the fence, surveying the recently deceased neighbor's farm. Heydricus chats with the old man, who reminisces about the days before Prisantha's mother was born, when he was free to just roam all over creation without a care in the world. Heydricus excuses himself and goes inside to find two things of note:

1) A fresh baked berry pie, just now cool enough to eat, and
2) Prisantha, dressed for the evening's festivities in a hideous blue dress she hasn't worn since she was sixteen. (A bit tight, and quite a bit out of date, even a Fashion Accident of her Grandmother's creation cannot dim the light of Prisantha's beauty -- a fact that is apparently lost on the preoccupied sorcerer.)

Heydricus snatches Pris by the wrist and takes her into the bathing room announcing that the bathwater must be left in the cauldron! Flustered and blushing, Prisantha asks what for, only to be met with a curious smirk from the sorcerer. Why, to scry with my dear, what else did you suppose?

Prisantha stutters and mutters an arcane phrase. The bath waters reveal the form and figure of Jespo Crim, showing the vexatious summoner sleeping fitfully in a small, dank cell -- heavily drugged, and wearing the uniform of Chendl's debtors prison! And if Jespo is jailed, where is Thrommel? Of the Crown Prince there could be no word, at least until tomorrow, when Prisantha might be able to scry again.

Some trouble is brewing at home, of that the duo are sure, and they absentmindedly mime their way through the party held in their honor, then duck out early in order to catch the 7:25 teleport spell back to Tenh.

The next morning, Prisantha's scrying puddle in the back of the cave is coaxed to reveal the image of Prince Thrommel: alone, and behaving fearfully, the Prince is placing some object in his backpack, and rather raggedly running through an unknown forest. He looks like he is in trouble, and Elijah is hastily summoned. Pris and the ranger plan to teleport to Thrommel, grab him and return him to the relative safety of Cur'ruth. Final preparations are made, Elijah paints her face for field work, and off they go.

They return a half-hour later soaked to the skin, smelling of rot and stagnant water, and looking defeated. The following story emerges: Prisantha's teleport spell malfunctioned, dropping them chest-deep into a swamp. As they wade toward the nearest dry land, Pris is attacked by a massive swimming constrictor snake! The unholy predator bites the enchantress, and a numbing wave of negative energy courses through her, dulling her mind and ravishing her spirit.

Elijah jumps on the snake, cutting it deeply, but she cannot prevent the serpent from twining around Prisantha and dragging her under water, biting her again and again. Elijah swims into the murky water, and unable to see, uses her hands to locate the snake's tail, then climbs hand over hand until she reaches the other end, and begins to saw the head off the beast.

Eventually, the limp form of Prisantha is coaxed free from the coils of the headless constrictor, and Elijah swims the semi-conscious mage to an outcropping of dry land. The duo rest, and Elijah tends to Prisantha's wounds. The Enchantress of the Temple removes the spell components needed to return them home, but finds that she cannot summon the spell to mind. Apparently the horrific paralytic energies of the serpent have suppressed her mastery over her most powerful spells. Facing a grueling overland journey out of a swamp unknown to either of them, the adventurers have no choice but to use Prisantha's most precious possession. Elijah holds tight as Pris reads her limited wish scroll, and gods be praised, they are transported securely to Cur'ruth.

Heydricus runs forth to find Gnomer, hoping the gnome can cure Prisantha's wounds, and restore her vitality. What he finds however, stops him in mid-request. The gnome is sitting outside, gazing into the afternoon sky and rocking back and forth on his heels. Gnomer keeps his eyes on the sky, and points out the fact that the dragon is still out there.

"A cave isn't a forest, Heydricus" Gnomer remarks, "and we can't be sure that we're safe, can we? You understand, don't you?"

The gnome is unclean, and has obviously not slept for days. Heydricus gently says "It may be time for you to go home, Gnomer. I think your sons need you."

Gnomer pauses to reflect for a moment, then begins to mutter what he knows about dragon lore.

Heydricus returns to the cave, and gives Prisantha his remaining cure light wounds potions.

The next morning, Ethel and Gnomer are teleported back to Gnomer's village, promising to return when their personal business is settled.

The rescue attempt botched, things don't look good for the Prince. Scrying reveals Thrommel to be securely bound, bruised and bloodied, encased in some sort of wooden box. He is alive, but for how long?

If it is to be a rescue, then it is up to Prisantha, Heydricus and Elijah to do it -- the once mighty Heroes of the Temple, reduced to three. Pris can only memorize two teleport spells per day, and has the might only to take two others along. If a rescue is to be made, Pris will need a pair of teleport scrolls to accomplish the feat. The best place for this scribing to take place is, after all, Chendl, and while she is working, Heydricus and Elijah can look into Jespo's situation, and investigate the mystery of Anton's miraculous return from the dead . . .

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Next: Prisantha, Heydricus and Elijah investigate the mystery of Prince Thrommel's abduction, discover why Jespo is in jail, and find out how Fras has fared, left to her own devices! The Provost Marshall Reine takes the stage, and the King himself is consulted!
 

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Coldeven 5, CY 593

12: Jewel of the Kingdom and Seat of the Furyondian Throne, Chendl beckons.

Chendl in the summertime is much like Chendl in the winter, save that the puddles of human waste fester and evaporate rather than freeze, and street traffic is much more congested. The group uses hats of disguise to take the appearane of a trio of messengers, and teleports to their favorite inn: The Sign of the Last Days.

After obtaining rooms, and a hearty meal of Furyondian comfort food (blood sausage and kidney pie with a side of salt pork and turnip greens) Elijah, Heydricus and Prisantha travel to Jespo Crim's house.

What they find confirms thier worst fears: the house is boarded and sealed, by order of "His Most Austere Authority, the Provost-Marshall Commerce, Reine -- By the Authority of the Crown of Chendl, Jewel of Furyondy, Sheld of the South". As the party searches the back of the house for a surrepititious entrance, a familiar warbling is heard. Fräs!

The party spots the celestial cat perched on top of a stack of discarded boxes and crates behind the rear door to Jespo's house. Although Fräs has lost weight, and is sporting a torn ear, with some missing patches of skin, the Cat from Heaven seems little the worse for wear. After all, the tough tom-cats she's been fighting don't have sixteen hit points and smite evil! Through Sasha, Prisantha's familiar, Fräs' sad tale is heard:

Jespo, the poor dear, has been working himself ragged recently trying to craft magic items for Thrommel. Thrommel, after his bull-headed fashion, has been making noises about adventuring, hoping to match some of the glory his father had during his youth. Jespo has been desperately trying to rein in Thrommel's heroic impulse, fearing that any 'adventure' would be just the opening Thrommel's enemies might desire. Jespo had attempted to protect Thrommel by crafting a series of powerful magical items for the young prince. But in order to keep the work a secret from the prying eyes of the court, Jespo had used his own resources, effectively draining his ToEE plunder to a few hundred gold, barely enough to keep up payments on his house and carriage (not to mention his sailing yacht).

One month ago, the prince and his wizard had toured Southern Furyondy, in an attempt to drum up support for the War Effort, and the church of Tritherion's Holy Crusade. (Thrommel is a True Beliver in Tritherion's Contest. of Arms.) Upon their return, Jespo discovered that his home had been robbed, his magical wards bypassed, and all his belongings (including the magic items he was crafting for the prince) stolen!

Destitute and peniless, Jespo was without recourse, when two days later, the agents of the Provost Marshall Commerce arrived with a warrent for his arrest. Jespo was to be jailed for the debt incurred by the Heroes of the Temple, specifically one Anton Rex, for the outstanding sum of fourty thousand six hundred and twenty pieces of silver.

Jespo thought to hide, but Fräs would not hear of it! If the debt should legally fall to him, why, then the Baatezu must be paid his Due, as they say in Mount Celestia. Fräs brought the guards to Jespo's hiding place, and was thrown out on her ear for her trouble.

Since her rude eviction, and her master's imprisonment, she has been living off of the leavings to be found in Chendl's alleys, and fighting with the local street-cats. She has tried to remain productive, and did manage to find and kill an abyssal dire-rat that had gotten loose from some mage's home. She was unable, lamentably, to find the mage.

Prisantha tucks Fräs into the bag holding Sasha, and the two cats, overjoyed to be reunited, begin purring up a storm of affection that makes the Enchantress blush.

The next stop is the offices of the Provost-Marshall, the courtly agent concerned with matters of commerce and debt in Chendl. Jespo may not be well-liked, but he is certainly important enough that Reine himself would have signed his arrest warrant. Perhaps one of Heydricus' fawning groupies can prove useful after all.

The party is met by a pair of rude guards at the Provost-Marshall's door, but the guards are quick to sing another tune when Heydricus drops his own name. Reine is found taking tea and crumpets in a roomy office, tackily and ostentatiously decorated, and very poorly kept up.

A brief interview reveals the following: Reine's feelings were devastated when 'darling' Heydricus failed to R.S.V.P. his daughter's coming out, but he is mollified when Heydricus (acting as his own messenger) claims that Heydricus speaks of Reine often, and well.

Fortunately, bald-faced lies aren't an alignment violation, but Fräs' hissing is heard from her bag.

Reine puffs his chest at the compliment and assures the messengers that he will "gladly work with Heydricus to determine whatever happened to this . . . what was his name? Crim . . . oh, yes, disagreeable fellow, claimed to know Heydricus, I remember him now. His, er, cat turned him in, if I recall correctly . . ."

After examining the paperwork, and a brief conversation regarding Jespo's legal options, the party draws the conclusion that debt, once passed on to the Court as part of the Noble's Charter, is non-negotiable. The good news? Heydricus himself has escaped any legal responsibility. The bad news? Jespo will be left to rot until he can scrape together four thousand sixty some-odd gold pieces.

Reine agrees to get Heydricus' messenger a brief audience with Crim the next morning, but only on the condition that the Hero of the Temple agrees to attend a dinner in his honor the very next time his business brings him to Chendl.

The party retires to their inn, and Heydricus takes Fräs to the Viscountess Maia, the recently widowed Lady of gentle birth and voluptuous proportion, most well known for her discretion and husky voice. Maia is so glad to see Heydricus, she dismisses the servants, and after an afternoon of heated, er, tete-a-tete Maia agrees to bring Fräs into her household, promising the celestial cat a life of satin pillows, sunny napping spots and fresh fish. If Fräs shoots Heydricus a disapproving look as he takes his leave, only Jespo would know for sure.

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Next: Jespo, Thrommel and Iuz, oh my!
 

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Coldeven 6, CY 593

14: Deeper and Deeper, look how the rot has grown

The next morning, a sleepy Reine meets the party outside of debtor's prison, his servants bearing silver trays laden with a tea setting for one. Sipping his tea, Reine signs the papers allowing Heydricus, Prisantha and Elijah to visit Jespo.

The prince's summoner appears even more flaccid than usual, and his eyelids are barely open as he regards the messengers who are let into his cell. "Get out, you dogs," he slurs, "I will receive no visitors".

"Jespo," Heydricus begins, "I am not who I seem to be, do you understand that?" Searching for a means to communicate to the obtuse wizard, Heydricus leans close and whispers, "Daern".

This infuriates Jespo, who begins to shout "How dare you speak that name to me? Who do you think you are? Get out! If my friends were here, you'd pay for that! I want you out! Out! Guards! I want them out!"

The party withdraws from the cell, only to be met by a knowing smirk from Reine, who says "I see you've had no better luck with him than I. Ugly little man."

The group enjoys breakfast at a famous local holstery, The Horse and the Hippogriff, then proceeds to the Temple of Tritherion, to report as ordered, to Halrond the Fourth.

Using their true forms, the group is immediately recognized, and a young acolyte dispatched to find the Prolocutor of Tritherion. While the party waits in the veranda of Halrond's palatial estate, they notice a frenzied activity as priests of Tritherion pore over maps, and hold heated conversations.

Halrond himself appears to guide the group to a back deck where he pours liberal draughts of fine brandy and passes out cigars. He is suprised, and pleased that Heydricus has appeared in person, but suggests a message spell might do next time. Halrond praises the party's doings in Tenh, and calls their action a "clean war". He seems completely unsuprised about Thrommel's capture, and suggests to Heydricus that while they are both fighting the same war, Heydricus is best used in the field, not Chendl. Leave Chendl and it's dirty politics to me, he implies . . . and mind your own business.

The party thanks Halrond and returns to their disguise, and their rooms at the inn. They order a bath to be drawn, and use the waters to scry Thrommel. Unfortunately, it seems they are too late. The pool is black, indicating that Thrommel has met his mortal end.

Stunned, the party debate their next move. Their allies in the church of Tritherion showed no enthusiasm for a rescue of Thrommel, and now even his corpse cannot be recovered, as it cannot be located via scrying. A thought strikes the Enchantress, and she attempts to scry Fragarach, Thrommel's intelligent sword. Success! Fragarach is seen to be lying on a slab of stone, decorated with Evil runes of binding and power. The slab is in a vile laboratory, and standing over "the Answerer" is a black-robed wizard, wearing the holy vestments of Iuz. The laboratory's location cannot be discerned, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize that this room is undoubtably deep beneath Dorakka.

The mage appears to be conducting research on the sword. After all, how does one torture an inanimate object? As the mage casually drizzles abyssal adder venom on Fragarach's pommel, hundreds of miles away, the Heroes of the Temple, Executioners of Zinvellon, are strapping on their adventuring equipment..

The heroes teleport into the labortory, a cramped space that reeks with the stench of the charnel-house. The mage seems unsuprised to see them, and before they can cut him to ribbons (or feeblemind his Evil ass) he raises a wrinkled hand and says "I wish you had appeared in the next room over", and suddenly the party finds themselves standing in a crowded storage closet, filled with all manner of repulsive things.

"Did you just hear what I thought I heard? Did that wizard wish us in here? Oh hell, no," Heydricus begins, but his short speech is made half in Dorakka, and half in Chendl, as Prisantha, thinking the same thing, teleports the trio back to safety.

Time to call in the Big Guns.

Prisantha makes a call on the Royal Academy of Magic, and arranges to inform one of the King's own Arch-mages of the trouble with Thrommel. The wizard seems, like Halrond, unsurprised by the news, and implies that young maglings should be more concerned with their better's time than Prisantha seems to have been.

Okay . . . time to go over his head. Esril is contacted, and after hearing the whole sordid story, she contacts King Belvor himself and arranges for a secret meeting in the swordplay wing, her demense.

The King is suprised, and angered, and vows that come Hell or Death on His horse, Thrommel will be returned to Chendl, and if he is dead, shall be raised forthwith! Satisfied, Belvor turns to summon his arch-wizards, but is stalled by Heydricus.

"What of Thrommel's enemies, my lord? We do not know who they truly are. The jailing of Jespo Crim cannot be a coincidence." After all, if you want a prince dead, it follows that his personal wizard must be dealt with.
Belvor ponders this weighty news, and asks Heydricus his opinion. Heydricus proposes the following plan: obtain Thrommel's corpse, and raise him in secret. Equip him, and teleport him to Heydricus in Tenh. Thrommel can then act upon his desire for adventure (under the watchful protection of the party), and do so far, far from his enemies in Chendl. In fact, if carefully executed, none of his foes shall even know that the Heir still lives.

"Bravo", Belvor replies. "Bravo, Heydricus and Prisantha (and whatever your name is my dear), once again your clever wit outshines my own! You have a good head on your shoulders. Let's keep it there! Now, I shall sign a writ having Crim freed."

"No sire," Heydricus interrupts with a glance at Elijah.

The young ranger continues, "Sire, if Jespo is freed, it will serve notice to all those who oppose Thrommel that we are back from Tenh, and aware of their plotting. Jespo must remain in jail for the time being, and he must not learn about Thrommel's whereabouts. When we are sure the prince is safe, we can free his summoner."

-----

Next: A horrible massacre, a hidden community, and an astonishing secret!
 

(contact)

Explorer
Coldeven 7, CY 593

15: In which it is revealed that given time, the multiverse always proves the pessimist right.

After procuring a pair of teleport scrolls against any future emergency, the trio returns to Tenh. Upon their arrival, swords flash from their scabbards, as our heroes find the caves to be empty, and heavily bloodstained. By the looks of things, their camp has been a massacre site.

Elijah tracks the exterior of the cave, and discovers that a mixed band of humans, humanoids and giants fell upon the cave, most likely at night. There were some survivors, but many more bodies were dragged than led in chains. In one heartening note, a small band of survivors snuck away during the fighting and appear to have eluded pursuit. A child's footprints are in the lead.

Following the trail of that small group leads the party to a mesa some half-mile from the mines at Cur'ruth. A quick search reveals a secret door that opens to reveal a long, narrow passage leading down into the earth beneath the mesa. The passage winds and descends for many hundreds of yards before coming to an end in a small room. The room has one door leading from it, heavily barred, and a short table with a few stout chairs.

Elijah confirms that the survivors of the massacre came this way, and that Looish was leading them. This must be a "back door" into the mine-home of the Cur'ruth Tenha. Ignoring his now-instinctive distrust of back-doors, Heydricus knocks once, and waits.

A panel in the door slides open, revealing a woman's face, Tenha (if a bit pale) and elderly. She narrows her eyes. Heydricus tells her his name, and states that he is looking for his men.

"The soldiers?" She begins, "they are here. You will want to speak with the Aiman. He is expecting you." She lifts the bar, and the heavy wooden door swings open. "You may leave your weapons with me."

The party looks at her quizzically, and she continues, "You must leave your weapons here."

Heydricus laughs at her. Elijah shoulders past to get a better look of the room, and scout for an ambush. She turns back to Heydricus and signals "All clear. I'm on watch."

Heydricus refuses to disarm. He requests to speak with a clan leader. She replies that she is one. The woman fixes Heydricus with a cold stare, and repeats her demand that the party remove their weapons.

Heydricus replies that you don't get to be as old as he is by taking your weapons off within spitting distance of an Iuzian encampment, and he'll have his men back now.

The woman stands eye-to-sternum with the massive sorcerer and glares at him. After a breif stare-down, she leads the group through a series of passages to a large common room, filled with Tenha sitting quietly, apparently absorbed in various tasks. At the back of the room is an older Tenha, speaking to a small group that has gathered around him.

The matron mother leads the adventurers to the older man, and she introduces him as the Aiman of the Cur'ruth Tenha. A brief and tense audience follows where the party once again bluntly refuses to disarm, and laughs mockingly at the suggestion that they are safe within the Cur'ruth mines.

Perhaps it is the stress of teleporting from end to end of the continent, or perhaps the shock of realizing how many lives have been lost, but there is no mood for diplomacy or refinement within the group. The Aiman, showing the fearlessness that seems to characterize these Tenha, takes Heydricus to the surviving lads, and politely asks the group to leave.

Ywain is one of the survivors, and he tells Heydricus that they have been treated well, and fed, if poorly. Apparently, these Tenha have a very bland diet.

Heydricus and Prisantha gather the lads and leave the mine of the Cur'ruth Tenha. They turn the soldiers over to Elijah who examines them for wounds, and applies her knowledge of herbal lore. Finding a quiet spot, Pris and Heydricus quietly review the brief meeting, and conclude that their relationship with the Aiman might yet be salvaged.

Heydricus divests himself of his sword, and arms himself with his best apologetic face and a bottle of fine Furyondian wine. He returns to the doorway, and knocks once again.

After a brief conversation with the matron mother, Aiman himself emerges and sits down with the massive sorcerer. Heydricus offers an apology for his rash words, and demonstrates his willingness to meet in peace.

The Aiman, for his part, comments how much he enjoys the wine, and reminds Heydricus that he hasn't had a drop to drink since the Iuzian take-over ten years ago. As the wine warms him, Aiman takes to Heydricus and shares his story:

Since the Iuzian takeover, times have been hard. The miners at Cur'ruth have always been self-sufficient, exploiting the resources of the near-underdark to sustain their needs. The Iuzian garrison here was always small, and has grown even more so since the Stonefist rebellion. Exploiting this, the Aiman managed to negotiate a mutually benificial pact between his people and the Iuzians. The Tenha miners here live an autonomous life, and in exchange, they meet cruel quotas for food and ore.

The Aiman tells the party about the Iuzian 'leaders' (when asked if any of the individuals was in charge, his response invariably was 'he thinks he is'): Suel, a human necromancer; the Master Inquisitor, a torturer who treats his profession like a refined and subtle art; Martak the Undying, certainly undead; and Ra-Mohn, a darkling beast. In addition, there are beings named only as "The Seven Terrors", associates of Suel.

As the wine takes effect, the Aiman bluntly points out that he has no hope that the party might succeed in their mission. He cannot give Heydricus aid, he explains, because to do so would imperil the lives of his people once the Master Inquisitor got his hands on Heydricus. "They can wrest your secrets from your corpse, I think." He drunkenly advises the sorcerer.

The Aiman asks could he convince the party to desist? Not at this point, he is told. The old man nods and slyly implies that the PCs may not fully understand what is at stake. He asks Prisantha and Elijah to join him, and knocks on the stout wooden door. Elijah and Heydricus leave their swords with Ywain, and place him in charge.

The matron mother answers the knock with a worried expression, and is too shocked to even complain when the Aiman invites the party in! The Tenha wise man leads the group through a number of twisting corridors and into the mines themselves. He shows them the mine shaft, now carved smooth, where his ancestors first discovered the entrance to the vast network of caves that lie underneath the Flannaes: the underdark.

A short journey through natural caves ends at a low crevice, seeminly too small for anyone larger than a halfling to enter. But it's size is an optical illusion, and after shedding their packs, the party is able to crawl into the crevice. The Aiman leads them through a twisting, clausterphobic journey where they are forced to crawl worm-like through a stream-fed passage with barely enough room to keep their faces above water.

After an agonizing few minutes that seem like hours, the party emerges into a gorgeous natural chamber. The cavern is filled with stalactites and stalagmites, both types of rock formation studded with crystaline formations that sparkle in the reflected glow from Prisantha's continual light stone. The place is magestic, and there is a profound sense of the Holy in the air. "Almost there," the Aiman wheezes as he pauses to catch his breath. His eye twinkles as he regards the party and watches their expressions.

A second cave (this one, thankfully larger) leads the group into a massive cavern, fully as large as the greatest feast-hall of the Southern Lords. The Aiman instructs Prisantha to put away her light source. When she complies, the party realizes that the chamber is filled with enough glowing motes of light to rival the night sky! Stranger still, the lights are moving - flying to and fro. "Stand still," the Aiman instructs them, "and if you are pure of heart, they will come to you."

The party is pure, and Good are their intentions. One by one, the motes of light descend on the heroes, suffusing them with the purest essence of the Good ideals: True Hope, Bountiful Joy, Blessed Mercy, and Utter Peace flood into them, overwhelming their pain and exhaustion, lifting up the Heroes of the Temple and inspiring them.

There are tears in the Aiman's eyes as he says "Aren't they beautiful?"

-----

Next: Trouble below, and one less Liberator!
 

(contact)

Explorer
Coldeven 7, CY 593

16: "Well, there goes the accountant."

Aiman tells the group that he doesn't know what the motes are, or why they are here, but he is sure they are Celestial, and completely harmless. He is also certain that the Iuzians would find some depraved use for these gentle beings of heavenly light, should the wicked priests learn of their existance.

He has been able to communicate with them after a limited fashion, but they adamantly refuse to move, or be moved. They tell him only that "We must be here".

The Aiman leads the way back to the room where the empty wine bottle sits. "That," he begins, suddenly sober, "is what you are putting at risk when you attack the mines. I believe you are pure, and the motes have proven it, but I do not believe you will succeed."

When asked why he would show his secrets to adventurers he felt had no chance, the Aiman cooly replies, "Because when you loose, I need you to die rather than be captured. If they catch you alive, you will tell them of us. You will tell them what they want to know. When you loose, when hope is lost, for the sake of those good beings - you must kill yourself rather than submit to capture. Do we understand each other?"

We do. The Aiman produces vials of a clear, acidic liquid. "When you fail, drink these," he says, "the death will be painful, but your throat will be destroyed, and thus your corpse can betray no secrets."

The Aiman pauses as his request sinks in. He gauges the steely looks he is receiving from the hardened adventurers. "But I cannot say that I have no use for swordsmen and sorcerers. If I asked a boon of you, would you agree?"

When assured that the party would help the good Tenha of Cur'ruth in any way they could, the Aiman continues. "Below our mines lie our crypts. Old they are, and my father's fathers lie there. For some time now, the wise men and women of my clan have been growing agitated. They have dreams that disturb their sleep. To a man, they dream of the crypts.

"One of my own have I asked to investigate. He did not return. I am afraid that something beyond our means is amongst the bodies of our ancestors. Would you go there, in our name, and if need be, avenge our kin?"

At last, a reason to be bold in this confusing place where the lambs lie down with the lions and act like foxes! Heydricus assures the Aiman that they will set right whatever is wrong in the crypts of Cur'ruth. Returning to the lads, Heydricus calls Curst forward. "You're coming with us." Curst is reluctant, but seems even more reluctant to look like a coward in front of Elijah. The party recovers their weapons and are led past the solemn matron mother into a dark and dusty area of the complex.

"Behind that door, the crypts." she whispers. "May the blessings of the Wise Ones be upon you. I will await you here."

The door opens onto the top landing of a long flight of stairs. Apparently even the dungeons have dungeons in Tenh.

The hallway at the base of the stairs is a narrow passage. Engravings and bas-relief decorate the walls and serve to illustrate the Tenha belief in the passage of the dead into the afterlife. Small hand-built shrines litter the hallway, old offerings withering away in the dry, dusty air. At the edge of the party's light a human hand can be seen, lying on the bare stone. The hand is blue and slightly swollen.

The group creeps closer, with Elijah in the lead, followed closely by Heydricus. Curst brings up the rear, clinging to Prisantha's skirt. Weapons are drawn, and even the breath of the heroes seems over-loud and alarming.

The corpse is fairly recent, and as Elijah turns it (him?) over it makes a wet sucking sound. There are a pair of wounds on the upper shoulders of the man, and a small hole missing from the top of his head. Judging by the lack of blood around the corpse, the heart must have stopped before the peircing wounds were made. As if he died of shock. Or fear.

Before the party can fully examine the corpse or the room beyond there is a high-pitched scream from Curst. Appearing directly in front of him, materializing out of thin air, is a massive spider, the size of a horse. The beast is covered in small, wiry hairs, and is colored grey like the surrounding stone. It's two long front limbs drip with a viscous liquid, and it is attempting to grab Prisantha, and impale her with a thorny proboscis that juts from it's mouth. Fortunately for her, her reflexes are quick, and she steps out of the way. Heydricus and Elijah push past her to attack the beast, with some success. Curst cries out in Oerdian and flees for the stairs.

Before the warriors can kill the thing, however, it dissapears, and all is once again quiet save for the frantic pounding of Curst's feet on the stairs.

"Well," says Elijah, "there goes the accountant."

The party looks about, and confident that the beast is truly gone, they proceed into the chamber beyond. This room is larger, and seems designed to hold ritual services for the dead. Three open archways lead off from this room into the burial-halls themselves. A series of engravings in the floor radiate magic, specifically enchantment and illusion.

Prisantha, concentrating on her detect magicspell, fails to notice the slight rush of air, as the spider appears directly behind her. It seizes her in its front limbs, and before anyone can stop it, the thing vanishes, taking the Enchantress of Verbobonc with it.

Heydricus and Elijah frantically search the area, waving their weapons in front of them, trying to find invisible creatures - but to no avail.

Reasoning that the beast must have fled, they dash into the northern burial-hall and find a shocking sight. The dead of the Tenha mines, generation after generation, are laid out in the massive hall. The room is shaped like an inverse ziggurat, with tiers rising in regular intervals. The most ancient dead lie to the back of the room, the more modern corpses to the front. In the Tenha custom, the bodies lie entombed, covered only with a thin shroud.

At the near tier, the another spider hunches over the corpse of a Tenha, its proboscis thrust into the skull of the body, with a strange greenish glow oozing from the thing. Heydricus and Elijah charge it, and catch it off guard, wounding it badly. By the time it recovers its senses, it is nearly done for, but it manages to vanish like the other, into thin air.

Meanwhile, Prisantha has found herself floating in a grey, misty and insubstantial ghost-world. She is still in the clutches of the giant spider, but manages to wrangle free, and strike the beast sensless with her ace-in-the-hole: feeblemind.

Prisantha can see the corridors and rooms of the crypts, but it is like everything has become thin, grey and insubstantial. She explores her new environment for a few moments, then, suddenly, another spider appears several hundred feet from where she floats! She crouches behind the drooling form of the spider next to her (well, it would be drooling, if spiders drooled), and watches the thing as it scuttles nearer her, seemingly intent on something she cannot see.

Heydricus and Elijah, after witnessing the spider dissapear, turn to run into the western burial-crypt, and sure enough, they see a third spider feasting on the corpse of a long-dead Tenha, it's disturbing proboscis oozing greenish light. Once again, they charge to the attack, and once again the beast dissapears. The duo, with barely a glance at each other, run into the main chamber, and place themselves back-to-back, awaiting the worst.

Prisantha sees a second spider appear, and now both spiders are converging on the central room -- curious, she floats closer to their convergence point, and there she spots Heydricus and Elijah. Her friends appear ghost-like and transparent, but there is no mistaking Heydricus' unusually long, powerful sword, held proud and firm in his hands . . . ahem, well yes. Prisantha tears her eyes off the sorcerer and assesses her situation.

Certainly, she cannot communicate with them to warn them, but she is not helpless either. She regards the spiders. One of the beasts seems to be rubbing it's front arms together, generating a putrid yellowish glow, and leaving its arms coated with some bubbling, hissing liquid.

The spiders position themselves near Elijah and Heydricus, one spider for each, and Pris moves out from her hiding place, spell components in hand. But she is too late, and the spiders fade into grey mist before she can bend their will to her own.

Elijah is grabbed, seized and held, then suddenly phased into the ghost-plane where Prisantha has prepared a charm monster spell. Before the spider can sink it's ghastly proboscis into Elijah's skull, Pris completes her charm, and the spider grows still, then scuttles to her side in a posture that must equate with arachnid affection. Prisantha quickly discerns that the beast can read her mind. It sends waves of loving thought, assuring her that it is not evil at all, but a bizzare being of alien mentality.

Elijah quickly adapts to her surroundings, and when Prisantha assures her that the beast is friendly, she takes a look around. She notices, sadly, Curst's limp form floating dead and still in the mist nearby. Apparently, the feebleminded spider gave chase, and drew the rogue here before killing him.

"Well, there goes the accountant," she mutters to herself.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Heydricus has been grabbed by the spider dripping acid from its forearms. The viscous substance burns his skin, and shreds his clothes, but is not deadly enough to kill him. Heydricus gives as good as he gets, striking the creature twice with his mightiest blows. He severs the spider's wicked proboscis in one swipe, then slashes deeply into it's front-section with his return swing. He watches in horror as the proboscis simply reforms, and begins to glow green.

Prisantha manages to communicate mentally with her charmed spider companion that she wishes it to attack its companion. As these creatures have no concept of filial love, the thing quickly agrees, and moves next to it's companion, waiting to shift into the real world to finish the badly wounded beast. Elijah floats next to Heydricus, prepared to slice his foe should the thing shift into her reality.

What happens next would be enough to convince a superstitious fellow that his luck has gone sour. The badly wounded spider shifts into the ghost-realm at exactly the same moment that the ghost spider shifts into reality. Heydricus and Elijah strike simultaneously, and before you can say "trapped in the border etheric", both spiders are dead.

Heydricus is alone in the now-empty crypts of the Cur'ruth Tenha, and Prisantha and Elijah cast horrified glances at each other over the bodies of two spiders - one dead, the other feebleminded.

-----

Next: Heydricus alone in the wilds of Tenh, can the Liberators be reunited?
 

(contact)

Explorer
Coldeven 7, CY 593

17: The ghost in the machine.

Heydricus searches the crypts fruitlessly for any signs of his friends, then discouraged, he returns to the Aiman to tell him what has transpired. Showing the mark of compassion, the Aiman offers to shelter Heydricus' remaining followers (all four of them) and keep them hidden. But for Heydricus, sadly, he can do no more.

Prisantha and Elijah follow the despondent sorcerer as he slinks out into the wilds of Tenh, and hunts for a suitable hiding place. They watch over him for a while, but can find no way to communicate.

Desperate for answers, the duo trapped in the border etheric use a monster summoning to call one of Prisantha's hound archon friends to her side. The archon greets her joyfully, and calls to mind their stunning victory over Zinvellon and his Balor ally. Pleasantries are exchanged, and the archon is introduced to Elijah. He gives his mortal name as Valor, and offers her a blessing from the Most High Mount Celestia.

He is familiar with their environment. He tells them that they are on the plane connecting the Prime Material with the elemental regions. He does not know how they might return. When told about the motes, his ears perk up, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth involuntarily. He gives a joyous yip, and dances in circles, wagging his tail. "Emotes! Here!" he shouts, "can you take me to them?"

They lead the way, their journey made easier by the fact they are unhindered by the narrowness of the passage. When the archon spies the emotes, he whines under his breath, and tells the women the following:

These are celestial emotes. They originate from Mount Celestia, and inevitably each one embodies one of the Holy Virtues. The Mountain is a difficult climb for the souls of Good folk who find themselves there. One can only ascend as high as he is righteous. When a soul fully embraces all the myriad lessons of Ultimate Law and Goodness, he merges with the plane in a joyful reunion, ceasing to be. It is the highest goal of all of Mt. Celestia's inhabitants, petitioner and celestial alike. When a soul shows an unusual amount of Virtue, sometimes a part of their essence remains behind, as a glowing bulb of light. No one is sure why, but the emotes themselves seem intent on helping struggling aspirants along, causing them by the merest touch to be filled with whichever Holy Virtue the past-petitioner embodied best in his afterlife.

That one Emote should be found away from Mount Celestia is a miracle, but that this many would gather in the Prime . . . the archon begs to be dismissed, explaining that once again Prisantha is involved in some mystery that his superiors would be overjoyed to learn about.

Before he leaves, the archon suggests that some mortal wizards can communicate across the planes using their scrying abilities, and perhaps Prisantha might do the same . . .

Of course! Prisantha and Elijah travel ethereally to Heydricus' hiding spot and watch with a poignant amusement as he attempts to dress his own burns, his big hands fumbling with the y'ttre cloth.

Prisantha scrys him using drinking water pooled in Elijah's cupped hands and is then able to communicate with him via message. Heydricus is glad to hear that they are safe, and suggests that they might use their etheric state to scout the dungeon. The main concern is that non-corporeal undead exist partly in the etheric. Prisantha replies that if any non-corporeal undead are spotted, she will swiftly teleport away.

The etheric duo, once again trapped together in a land far away from their companions, venture back to the Tenha mines to have a look around. They make careful notes of their observations, but no sooner have they entered into the Iuzian-held part of the mine than they spot a desiccated man, dressed in ancient garments and clutching a heavily jeweled rod of office. The man seems very real, not ghost-like at all, for all that he is shrouded by a black aura. He leaps forward, and as Prisantha teleports away, he clutches her arm, coming along for the ride.

From Heydricus' point of view, his restless and pain-filled slumber is disrupted by the sudden appearance of a misty, black-shrouded undead creature that smells of grave-dirt, cruelty and rot. He leaps to his feet, and draws his sword. The thing recoils as if cut by a pair of invisible blades, and when Heydricus leaps at the foul creature, his sword blow dissolves it into strips of impotent mist. Confused, Heydricus looks around him for some explanation of what just transpired, but can find none.

Elijah sheathes her swords, and suggests to Prisantha that they rest here, next to Heydricus for the night.

The next day, another scry and message later, they teleport to Chendl, to try and get help from the Royal Academy of Magic. Appearing ethereally in the middle of the greatest school of magic outside of Greyhawk City might not be the wisest thing to do, but fortunately, the wards set against etheric intrusion are set to warn, not kill. The good news? Prisantha is able to contact a mage who can restore her and Elijah to the prime, but the bad news? The mage is Mina, Prisantha's rival at the Academy. Mina glowingly overcharges Prisantha for her spell-casting services, guessing rightly that the desperate enchantress will have no choice but to submit to her magical price gouging.

-----

Next: An unexpected reunion makes strange bedfellows of two very handsome men! And one of them is Heydricus! Curst is joined in his Eternal Rest! Who dies? Who doesn't? Read on . . .
 

(contact)

Explorer
Coldeven 9, CY 593

18: Wherein it is supposed that sometimes it is best to just sheathe your sword and go home.

Prisantha takes Elijah back to the mines at Cur'ruth, only to find a strange Pholtan priest engaged in a game of Seers and Sovereigns with Heydricus. Heydricus (who is loosing badly) feigns surprise and overturns the board. "Prisantha! Elijah! So good to see you! Meet Tau."

While Pris and Elijah were in Chendl, getting lectured by the Headmaster about the dangers of inadvertent planar travel and counting gold into the hands of an old rival, Heydricus was having a reunion of his own.

Tau is a cleric of Pholtus, a servant of the Blinding Light. He is primarily a scholar, specializing in the fields of undead lore and genealogy. He also happens to be a childhood friend of Heydricus.

Between the ages of seven and eleven, the two were thick as thieves. As the only son of a diplomat from the Theocracy of the Pale, Tau was the smallest child at the private school where he was to be educated. The other foreigner of note was a hulking Tenha named Heydricus, a child who even at that young age stood a head taller than his other classmates.

They met one day when Heydricus pulled a child off of Tau who had been tormenting him with a handful of dead bugs, hoping to force the smaller boy to eat them. Heydricus carried the bully bodily across the yard, and deposited him inside a rabbit hutch, head first.

Tau was never picked on again, and the two became inseparable.

When the boys were eleven, Tau's father was recalled to the Pale, forced to submit to The Question, and never seen again. Tau, showed divine aptitude, and even as a young lad he had the temperament of a scholar. Thus, he was assigned into an apprenticeship with the Bureau of Genealogy (Lineage and Nobility). There he excelled, and his natural connection with the divine led him eventually into the clergy, and the study of Metaphysical Events (Negative Material, Undead).

Heydricus, due to his connection with a diplomat's family, had been a name on a thin file in the cellar of a basement in Wintershiven. But after the killing of Zinvellon made him a hero in the Marklands, his file was 'promoted', and he was watched. It did not escape the notice of the Pholtan clergy that one of their own had close ties to the Tenha sorcerer.

When Duke Eyeh of Tenh Beheld the Blinding Light, and converted to the worship of Pholtus, more cynical politicos around the Marklands pointed out that if Nyrond had any money or troops to lend him, Eyeh would have 'converted' himself a Nyrondeese wife. But from the point of view of many important decision-makers in the Pale, Tenh was first and foremost a Flan state. In fact, Tenh was the only other 'pure' Flan state remaining, other than the Pale itself. Thus, it seemed natural to the powers-that-be in the Theocracy that they should lend their support to Eyeh, assuming he could come to an understanding of the One True Faith.

And so he did. Many important clerics of the Theocracy have long viewed Tenh with something approaching carnal desire. That they could never convince their compatriots to agree to conquer Tenh held them back, but their intelligence on the place is probably better even than the Old One's.

When word started to circulate that Heydricus of the Temple intended to free Tenh, divinations were cast. Pholtus was very clear on one point: "He has at least as much a chance as Eyeh".

Heydricus has spent the last several days waiting primarily for Prisantha and Elijah to extricate themselves out of a series of predicaments the two women have found themselves in. Down to three from an original group of thirty-four, the Liberators of Tenh have mauled slaving Stonefisters, come within a hair's breadth of getting themselves poisoned in their sleep, aided and abetted criminals, formed unscrupulous alliances along Tenh's southwestern border and solved mysteries back home, but they have yet to make any Iuzians pay for being Evil.

Heydricus can barely stay in his own skin, he is so itchy to kill, kill kill. Sometimes, although he doesn't admit it, he grows antsy when he looks up at the sky and realizes that there is no dungeon ceiling over his head, and no monsters in the next room over, waiting to eat his friends or die trying.

It's amazing what one can get used to.

Heydricus introduces Tau, and takes Prisantha aside to gloat. "We have a cleric!"

Prisantha regards Heydricus stonily "He's Pholtan."

"Undead hate clerics." Heydricus says with a gleeful smile.

Prisantha sighs. "He's a ranking Pale theocrat."

"We attack tomorrow."

The discussion is made to use a teleport spell to get into the Iuzian-held mines, then cut a swath of destruction while trying to save any of Heydricus' followers who might yet be living. It's a good plan, and Pholtus willing it would have worked. But the God of the Blinding Light must have been angry with Heydricus for cheating at Seers and Sovereigns, because Prisantha's teleport lands the party half a mile away from the mines, in a badly exposed flatland.

Tau suggests that he transport the party to the etheric plane, and there they can wait while the assault is delayed a day.

The next morning, Prisantha coolly ignores Heydricus' questioning glance, and confidently teleports the group to the border etheric, just outside of the room where Pris and Elijah first discovered the spectre.

They pass ghostlike through the doorway, and find the room empty. A nearby guard room is passed through, with none of the warriors the wiser. A pair of strange fleshy statues are examined, and then the group is within the main Iuzian complex. Shortly thereafter, they spot another spectre.

This spectre is, like the other, dressed in the garments of ancient Tenha royalty, but unlike the other, this one is armed. Unfortunately for the archaic weapons scholars amongst the group, they never got a chance to see the sword, as it's bearer was cut into ribbons of mist before it could draw the blade.

Tau incants softly as he points his staff skyward. A pendant dangling from the end of the staff swings against gravity, pointing in a direction that indicates the presence of undead. They must be non-corporeal to be detectable from the etheric. The remaining Five Terrors.

"Follow me" Tau says.

The party is forced to join hands as Tau follows the straightest path to the undead - through the 'rock' of the mines. Upward and southward they go, until they find themselves within a large, circular room.

The Tenha have always held the circle to be a sacred shape. It represents for them the ways in which life always turns on itself. The Tenha hold all of their sacred observances within circular chambers like this one. Unfortunately, like far too many Tenha temples these days, this one also has been desecrated, and given over to the worship of Iuz.

This day, the place is crawling with worshippers. At the altar (a second circular depression that represents the Womb, now of course, the Barren Womb) a handsome well-dressed human faces a room full of mixed Iuzian and Stonefister faithful. A gnoll is the lone humanoid, and stands alone. An older man, dressed in the raiment of the Iuzian clergy also observes the rite.

The disturbing part is the five spectres positioned equidistantly around the circle. That and the fact that the man addressing the faithful also appears solid, indicating that he is at least semi-real in this plane. The spectres, the Iuzian and the Liberators all notice one another, and for a brief moment that seems to stretch on forever, nothing at all happens. Then suddenly, everyone is in motion.

The man at the altar casts a spell and suddenly begins to move very rapidly. A second spell follows immediately on the heels of the first, and he disappears. As the spectres close in on the party, Tau repulses a pair of them with a positive energy burst, and Heydricus goes looking for the mage.

He finds him soon enough. The mage re-appears in the center of the room, and leads with his best spell: a grotesque burst of black, cloying death pulses out from the middle of the party's formation. Prisantha gives a short sigh and falls to the ground, lifeless. Tau and Elijah manage to resist the death spell, but the spectres seem to be bolstered by the wicked spell.

The ritual attendees begin milling about in a confused way, providing a ghostly backdrop for a desperate fight.

The Iuzian laughs as Heydricus attacks him. Heydricus' weapons pass harmlessly through the fell necromancer, and he rains spells down on the group at a prodigious rate, blasting Heydricus and Tau with a lightning bolt, and draining Elijah with a ray of enervation.

Tau struggles against the spectres that are swarming Elijah, tearing at her armor, and driving their putrid flesh-incrusted fingernails deep into her skin. The spectres seem to be drawing her very breath out of her body, and savoring the cruel torture.

Heydricus, meanwhile falls back to where Prisantha's corpse is floating and attempts to harm the Iuzian mage with magic missiles, but to no avail. The missiles pass harmlessly through the man, as if he were himself an apparition.

Elijah gives a small cry, and perishes, overwhelmed by the spectres and their cold touch. The mage laughs and watches, unconcerned, as Tau and Heydricus grab the corpses of their fallen and plane shift away. In the heat of battle, the first destination that pops into Tau's mind is the plane closest to his own heart, Mount Celestia.

The Plane of Total Law and Perfect Goodness.

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Next: Tau holds the fate of his fallen companions by the thread of his Faith!
 

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Coldeven 11

19: Wherein a Diefic Personification appears for the first time in this tale.

The Seven Heavens. Some say there is no better place. For those who love Love and do good for Goodness' sake, for those who Obey their Rightful Lords (yet always Govern their Subjects with Temperance), and for those who know that Perfection is Inevitable, there can be no more truthful expression of their ideals than Mount Celestia.

Mount Celestia is a tall mountain, some say impossibly tall. The petitioners here are engaged in an endless climb to prove their Purity. The very top of Mount Celestia is as much a spiritual state as it is a physical place. To the petitioners on the Mount, it is called the Perfection of All Things. A petitioner reaching the summit can finally exalt his or her soul in a joyful reunion with the essence of Law and Good. Along the way, one's ability to ascend the heights is determined by his or her level of Devotion and Understanding.

(Editor's Note -- Mount Celestia demands more capital letters than your average plane of existence.)

In this case, Tau has brought the party to a level where his soul feels comfortable, respectably high and far along the Path. After taking a moment to gain their bearings, and acclimate themselves to the golden glow given off by everything around them, Heydricus and Tau discover that they are very near a small shrine to Pholtus.

Now, the Lord of the Blinding Light does not Himself dwell in the Seven Heavens, but He is certainly not above sending a few of His planar priests to Mount Celestia to help the petitioners there understand the necessity of Obedience. And quite frankly, after a tour proselytizing in Sigil's market ward, the assignment seems like heaven. Literally.

Tau and Heydricus make their way to the shrine, where a handful of Pholtans are haranguing weary petitioners. The priests recognize Tau's robes, and greet him cheerily (or what passes for cheerily amongst priests of the Lawgiver).

Tau and Heydricus rest wearily and wait for their blood to settle. When he has regained his compsure, the Scholarly priest, late of Wintershiven, breifs his compatriots. They are horrified to hear of his struggle against Chaos, and invite Tau and Heydricus to rest.

When they discuss the fate of the dead Liberators, it becomes clear that Heydricus will not accept their fate. He vows out loud (a gesture of Power in Mount Celestia) to do whatever it takes to return the two deadliest women in his life back to life.

The Pholtans from the shrine and Tau put their heads together and return with this verdict: The two women were killed by death magic, and as such, they cannot be brought back with raise dead. Stronger magic will be necessary, and no one at the shrine can cast such powerful spells.

The senior priest suggests that Tau might petition Pholtus himself for a one-time use of such power. The priest leads Tau to the back of the shrine, where even the midday sun seems dimmed by the light beaming from an opening, leading back into a sunlit crevasse in the Mount.

Tau tightens his belt, and steps through the doorway, hoping to convince his God to lay His hand on the brows of these non-believers and bring their souls back to their mortal shells.

Tau is forced to navigate using his sense of touch, as the Light blinds his eyes. Stripped of sight, he is keenly aware of the subtle changes that take place as he shifts deeper into the Light. The benevolence of the Seven Heavens fades some, and is replaced by a stern, unblinking certainty. Pholtus has the Way and the Truth. Praise His Name that he has set Tau above mortal men.

Apparently Pholtus knows why his faithful cleric has come, for he does not greet Tau by naming his cryptic names, nor does he mince words. When the Lord of the Blinding Light speaks, Tau feels it through his whole being: "Tau of Wintershiven, explain to Me why you would have me return these heathens to their former lives?"

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Next: Pholtus tests his priest, and Tau must justify himself to Himself, if you know what I mean . . .
 

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