Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Just wanted to congratulate you on 35,000 views for this story hour, quite an accomplishment. 
-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
- Thread starter Jon Potter
- Start date
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:Just wanted to congratulate you on 35,000 views for this story hour, quite an accomplishment.
Whoah... I wasn't at all paying attention to that particular milestone. My attention was fixated on the rising post-count.
A celebration is in order!
I'll just have to think about how to do that...
Burningspear
First Post
Jon Potter said:
Well...., you could always give the players some ingame presents... lol.
Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Better yet, you should collect the names of all of your fans (posters on this thread) and incorporate them into a post. Now that would be a post to remember. In fact.... that gives me an idea. 
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:
Well, I've got something a bit like that in the works.
Remember that "special thing" I announced a month or so ago? The one that I was going to unveil in about two weeks? Yeah... well... that has got something a bit like you're suggesting.
If I can ever unveil it. :\
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #422] Where Do We Stand?
"A bit less than a day," Ixin told him and Huzair's expression grew surprised.
"Huh! It seemed a lot longer at the time, and I'm definitely bushed now." He stifled back a yawn. "Time works differently on the astral plane - like there is not any. I mean there is. Time passes but you do not feel it. It is very..."
"Weird?" the drakeling offered and Huzair nodded.
"That fits as well as any other word," he said with a grin.
"What did you learn?" Shamalin asked. She took a drink from her waterskin, doing her best to wash away the foul taste of Huzair's perverted thoughts, and failing. "Should we try to return to the astral plane with you now?" The wizard shook his head.
"I do not believe that it is time to go now, but we have a lead in the future," he told her and now it was Shamalin's turn to look surprised.
"But you said you knew something that can help us pursue Dridana's heart," she snapped.
"I believe I was in error," the mage admitted reluctantly. "Dridana's body may be on the astral plane. Dead gods float there. I sincerely misspoke about Dridana's heart being there, but are we not supposed to unite the heart with the body? We will have to go some time." Karak harrumphed.
"Well lads and lassie's, what do we do from 'ere? Do we need to rest and then head out towards the white one's famous pull?" the dwarf asked, hands resting easily on the handle of his axe. "If so I suggest the elf set up a perimeter with her bow and one o' us stand guard near the camp. Then Huzair switch with the elf in the perimeter since he has range spells and thief abilities. I will stand first guard." Huzair's face brightened at mention of the scout and he craned his neck around the cramped cave.
"I did not hear from my beauty, Anania. Where is she? Is she scouting? She must be hiding, knowing I was going to give her a big hug," saying that he looked at meaningfully at Shamalin. "By the look on your face you got more than a hug." He winked at her and the half-elf turned her head in disgust.
"I am here, Huzair," Anania spoke up from the cave entrance. She had been standing guard on the staircase while the others first argued amongst themselves who was best suited to pass through the portal, then over whether it was best for that person to be carrying many magic items or only one, and ultimately while they spoke with the returning wizard. She favored him now with a smile, saying,"I am glad that you are well. The mood toward me has soured since you left."
"Oh?" Huzair remarked, looking around at the others for explanation and looking particularly hard at Karak. "What did the mean dwarf say to you, sweet flower?"
"It wasn't Karak," Shamalin said quickly turning a challenging eye on Huzair. Then she too looked around at the others. "And is anyone going to back me up in insisting that Anania no longer send her eyeball messages? I think they are too risky, regardless of whether the last one was intercepted or not. I say save them for a time when we might need a call for help. No more updates for Hofrilax." With this last sentence she turned and met the wood elves gaze. Anania did not look away; a slight tightening of her almond-shaped eyes was the only betrayal of emotion she exhibited.
"You raise a good point, lass, about those eyeballs," Karak said, unmindful of the staring contest going on to his left. "Maybe this not be the time to be sendin' 'em anymore. But I do nae think the elf's a'gonna like that."
"I think Anania is smart enough to realize that - despite her allegiances to Hofrilax - she may be putting us in danger by sending the eye messages," Shamalin said evenly, her gaze never wavering from the scout's. Anania's eyes narrowed to slits.
"My being smart enough does not figure into this situation, Mercybringer," the elf maid said, her voice every bit as even and controlled as Shamalin's had been. "What does are Lord Hofralix's wishes. He gave you all much and asked little in return. But one thing he did demand is to be kept appraised of the situation as it develops. I will not disappoint him." Then she broke gaze with Shamalin and turned up the stairs. "As Karak has suggested, I will set up a perimeter."
For a moment there was silence except for the breathing of the six members of the Order in the small cave. At last Shamalin turned and in a low voice said, "We'll have to deal with that."
"What?!" Huzair scoffed. "I am gone for less than a day and the cleric grows a bigger pair than the dwarf? What has gotten into you?"
"Trust is in short supply," Morier informed him and Karak snorted his agreement.
"Aye, lass, e'en though you scried his mind, what if this just be an exact duplicate of the real Huzair who is still trapped on the astral plane?" Karak asked the cleric. "And how do we know he be nae ensorscelled or charmed to lure us inta a trap?!"
"The only thing I have done that should make you guys not trust me is that I did not tell you I could kick Whitey's ass. Your aggressive assertions that people are not trustworthy makes them not want to help you," the wizard explained. "I was always told to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Got that one from the thieves guild. Letting people know you do not trust them only makes them sneakier."
"He's got a point there," Ixin chuckled and Morier scowled at the wizard, studying him carefully.
"Despite that fact, now that it has been said, I'll admit that I am also more than just a little skeptical about Huzair," the albino said. "I'd say it would be wise for us to keep a pretty constant eyeball on him for the immediate time being."
"Look, I am not trying to lure you anywhere," Huzair said, holding up his hands defensively. "Let us keep following Whitey's pull. Seriously, I am being agreeable."
"Yeah... and there's absolutely nothing suspicious about that," Morier countered.
"A bit less than a day," Ixin told him and Huzair's expression grew surprised.
"Huh! It seemed a lot longer at the time, and I'm definitely bushed now." He stifled back a yawn. "Time works differently on the astral plane - like there is not any. I mean there is. Time passes but you do not feel it. It is very..."
"Weird?" the drakeling offered and Huzair nodded.
"That fits as well as any other word," he said with a grin.
"What did you learn?" Shamalin asked. She took a drink from her waterskin, doing her best to wash away the foul taste of Huzair's perverted thoughts, and failing. "Should we try to return to the astral plane with you now?" The wizard shook his head.
"I do not believe that it is time to go now, but we have a lead in the future," he told her and now it was Shamalin's turn to look surprised.
"But you said you knew something that can help us pursue Dridana's heart," she snapped.
"I believe I was in error," the mage admitted reluctantly. "Dridana's body may be on the astral plane. Dead gods float there. I sincerely misspoke about Dridana's heart being there, but are we not supposed to unite the heart with the body? We will have to go some time." Karak harrumphed.
"Well lads and lassie's, what do we do from 'ere? Do we need to rest and then head out towards the white one's famous pull?" the dwarf asked, hands resting easily on the handle of his axe. "If so I suggest the elf set up a perimeter with her bow and one o' us stand guard near the camp. Then Huzair switch with the elf in the perimeter since he has range spells and thief abilities. I will stand first guard." Huzair's face brightened at mention of the scout and he craned his neck around the cramped cave.
"I did not hear from my beauty, Anania. Where is she? Is she scouting? She must be hiding, knowing I was going to give her a big hug," saying that he looked at meaningfully at Shamalin. "By the look on your face you got more than a hug." He winked at her and the half-elf turned her head in disgust.
"I am here, Huzair," Anania spoke up from the cave entrance. She had been standing guard on the staircase while the others first argued amongst themselves who was best suited to pass through the portal, then over whether it was best for that person to be carrying many magic items or only one, and ultimately while they spoke with the returning wizard. She favored him now with a smile, saying,"I am glad that you are well. The mood toward me has soured since you left."
"Oh?" Huzair remarked, looking around at the others for explanation and looking particularly hard at Karak. "What did the mean dwarf say to you, sweet flower?"
"It wasn't Karak," Shamalin said quickly turning a challenging eye on Huzair. Then she too looked around at the others. "And is anyone going to back me up in insisting that Anania no longer send her eyeball messages? I think they are too risky, regardless of whether the last one was intercepted or not. I say save them for a time when we might need a call for help. No more updates for Hofrilax." With this last sentence she turned and met the wood elves gaze. Anania did not look away; a slight tightening of her almond-shaped eyes was the only betrayal of emotion she exhibited.
"You raise a good point, lass, about those eyeballs," Karak said, unmindful of the staring contest going on to his left. "Maybe this not be the time to be sendin' 'em anymore. But I do nae think the elf's a'gonna like that."
"I think Anania is smart enough to realize that - despite her allegiances to Hofrilax - she may be putting us in danger by sending the eye messages," Shamalin said evenly, her gaze never wavering from the scout's. Anania's eyes narrowed to slits.
"My being smart enough does not figure into this situation, Mercybringer," the elf maid said, her voice every bit as even and controlled as Shamalin's had been. "What does are Lord Hofralix's wishes. He gave you all much and asked little in return. But one thing he did demand is to be kept appraised of the situation as it develops. I will not disappoint him." Then she broke gaze with Shamalin and turned up the stairs. "As Karak has suggested, I will set up a perimeter."
For a moment there was silence except for the breathing of the six members of the Order in the small cave. At last Shamalin turned and in a low voice said, "We'll have to deal with that."
"What?!" Huzair scoffed. "I am gone for less than a day and the cleric grows a bigger pair than the dwarf? What has gotten into you?"
"Trust is in short supply," Morier informed him and Karak snorted his agreement.
"Aye, lass, e'en though you scried his mind, what if this just be an exact duplicate of the real Huzair who is still trapped on the astral plane?" Karak asked the cleric. "And how do we know he be nae ensorscelled or charmed to lure us inta a trap?!"
"The only thing I have done that should make you guys not trust me is that I did not tell you I could kick Whitey's ass. Your aggressive assertions that people are not trustworthy makes them not want to help you," the wizard explained. "I was always told to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Got that one from the thieves guild. Letting people know you do not trust them only makes them sneakier."
"He's got a point there," Ixin chuckled and Morier scowled at the wizard, studying him carefully.
"Despite that fact, now that it has been said, I'll admit that I am also more than just a little skeptical about Huzair," the albino said. "I'd say it would be wise for us to keep a pretty constant eyeball on him for the immediate time being."
"Look, I am not trying to lure you anywhere," Huzair said, holding up his hands defensively. "Let us keep following Whitey's pull. Seriously, I am being agreeable."
"Yeah... and there's absolutely nothing suspicious about that," Morier countered.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #423] Hard Times in Erlacor
Huzair waved off the eldritch warrior's comment and moved passed him with nonchalance. As he went he spared the albino a nudge to the ribs "Did you hear that, Morier? My little flower said she was glad I am well. A woman has not said something that nice about me since... ever."
Despite himself, Morier's face split into a smile and he stifled back some abortive laughter. He knew that the wizard's words most likely the absolute truth and the comment went some small way toward easing his concerns about Huzair.
Shamalin just sighed. "I need to pray," she said.
The cleric sought out the farthest corner of the cave for her meditation. Much had happened and she yearned to commune with her goddess to sort things through. Methodically she removed Blackheart's armor - it was still Blackheart's armor, though she viewed it as an extension of herself now. She knelt, steadied her breathing, and attempted to clear her mind. Several factors worked against her reflection, however.
Across the room, Huzair had drawn his elemental sword insisting to Ixin that its magic had been absent on the astral plane. Now Flameblade's voice was echoing its raucous challenge throughout the cave. Karak, though often respectful of her needs (perhaps a result of having experience with the religious ways of his brother), was at the moment engaged in a heated discussion with Morier. Every so often he would pound his axe handle on the stone floor for emphasis. Not far from her, Shamalin could discern the dark shape of Ayremac absorbed in his own prayers. She had become familiar enough with his practices, but the confines of the cave set him to flex and flutter his wings every few minutes, adding to her own agitation. A slow throbbing began to grow from behind her eyes, and Shamalin knew she would have to expend a minor healing miracle to ward off a splitting headache. It was going to be a long night.
In the end, the guidance she sought was ephemeral and cryptic. But she had come to expect it this way, and so took what comfort she could in the words. "You walk a path of danger. Every action you take holds risk. And this is no different but that the danger comes without intent if it comes at all." She sighed as she voiced the White Lady's response to her query during morning rations, while Anania was momentarily away.
"You should have asked if the eyes alerted anyone to our presence last time," Huzair chided. "I knew Anania was not intentionally doing anything."
"Perhaps you're right. I never believed her to be purposefully endangering us either. Her skills are beneficial," she relented. "It's just that the attacks came so soon after her sending..." Her voice trailed off as Anania made her return known with some uncharacteristic shuffling on the stair. Shamalin stood to intercept her.
"Perhaps the eye messages were not the cause of our attack," the cleric admitted. "Your loyalty to your sovereign is commendable. We are fortunate to have you with us." Without waiting for a response, Shamalin clanked up the stairs to begin the day. Anania watched her go and then turned to the others.
"There's not sign that the frost worm has returned," she informed them. "It's likely been scared off by the resistance it encountered last time, but I see no reason to linger here if we needn't." She glanced over at the small island in the middle of the pool. Sometime during the night the portal that glowed there had disappeared, leaving the outcropping unremarkable.
"I agree, my little flower," Huzair said, walking toward her with a grin. "Let us follow Whitey's pull. How about you lead the way."
And so she did, leading them northeastward so that they quickly returned to the course set by Morier's head and maintained that path as the days passed and the weather worsened. Snow began to fall on their first day, but it didn't accumulate much at first; the steady wind kept it at bay, leaving the frozen ground bare save for a fine dusting of frozen powder that moved and eddied about them as they trudged miserably on. That first night the temperature began to plummet, dropping well below freezing and staying there for the long week they spent hiking toward the Risilvar Escarpment looming rosily at the horizon. Anania's skills at survival were put to the test as they travelled, but she managed to keep them fed and free of frostbite despite the conditions.
By the time they spotted the fortress on the afternoon of Godsday they were moving through shin-deep snow covered with a sheen of ice that crumbled beneath their every footfall. Only Karak and Anania seemed unperturbed by the terrain. Neither sank into the accumulation with each step. Karak's magical boots allowed him the luxury of walking atop the snow and Anania didn't even leave any footprints behind as she passed. For the others, however, the forced march was akin to torture, leaving them gasping and trembling with fatigue. The crumbling, lichen-covered walls of the fortress looked palatial to their eyes as they approached, the smoke rising from chimneys within promising a warm fire and a respite from sleeping beneath the stars on frozen ground.
The disappointment was palpable upon spotting a yellow swath of cloth indicating plague nailed to the closed gate. Anania raised a hand to forestall the group even as an arrow arched up from the keep into the twilight before thunking down into the permafrost near Karak's boots.
"Oi!" the dwarf bellowed in protest and a voice answered from atop the wall.
"Move off, outlanders!" someone shouted. "You'll find no succor here!"
Huzair waved off the eldritch warrior's comment and moved passed him with nonchalance. As he went he spared the albino a nudge to the ribs "Did you hear that, Morier? My little flower said she was glad I am well. A woman has not said something that nice about me since... ever."
Despite himself, Morier's face split into a smile and he stifled back some abortive laughter. He knew that the wizard's words most likely the absolute truth and the comment went some small way toward easing his concerns about Huzair.
Shamalin just sighed. "I need to pray," she said.
The cleric sought out the farthest corner of the cave for her meditation. Much had happened and she yearned to commune with her goddess to sort things through. Methodically she removed Blackheart's armor - it was still Blackheart's armor, though she viewed it as an extension of herself now. She knelt, steadied her breathing, and attempted to clear her mind. Several factors worked against her reflection, however.
Across the room, Huzair had drawn his elemental sword insisting to Ixin that its magic had been absent on the astral plane. Now Flameblade's voice was echoing its raucous challenge throughout the cave. Karak, though often respectful of her needs (perhaps a result of having experience with the religious ways of his brother), was at the moment engaged in a heated discussion with Morier. Every so often he would pound his axe handle on the stone floor for emphasis. Not far from her, Shamalin could discern the dark shape of Ayremac absorbed in his own prayers. She had become familiar enough with his practices, but the confines of the cave set him to flex and flutter his wings every few minutes, adding to her own agitation. A slow throbbing began to grow from behind her eyes, and Shamalin knew she would have to expend a minor healing miracle to ward off a splitting headache. It was going to be a long night.
In the end, the guidance she sought was ephemeral and cryptic. But she had come to expect it this way, and so took what comfort she could in the words. "You walk a path of danger. Every action you take holds risk. And this is no different but that the danger comes without intent if it comes at all." She sighed as she voiced the White Lady's response to her query during morning rations, while Anania was momentarily away.
"You should have asked if the eyes alerted anyone to our presence last time," Huzair chided. "I knew Anania was not intentionally doing anything."
"Perhaps you're right. I never believed her to be purposefully endangering us either. Her skills are beneficial," she relented. "It's just that the attacks came so soon after her sending..." Her voice trailed off as Anania made her return known with some uncharacteristic shuffling on the stair. Shamalin stood to intercept her.
"Perhaps the eye messages were not the cause of our attack," the cleric admitted. "Your loyalty to your sovereign is commendable. We are fortunate to have you with us." Without waiting for a response, Shamalin clanked up the stairs to begin the day. Anania watched her go and then turned to the others.
"There's not sign that the frost worm has returned," she informed them. "It's likely been scared off by the resistance it encountered last time, but I see no reason to linger here if we needn't." She glanced over at the small island in the middle of the pool. Sometime during the night the portal that glowed there had disappeared, leaving the outcropping unremarkable.
"I agree, my little flower," Huzair said, walking toward her with a grin. "Let us follow Whitey's pull. How about you lead the way."
Sunday, the 28th of Fireseek - Godsday, the 7th of Readying, 1270 AE
And so she did, leading them northeastward so that they quickly returned to the course set by Morier's head and maintained that path as the days passed and the weather worsened. Snow began to fall on their first day, but it didn't accumulate much at first; the steady wind kept it at bay, leaving the frozen ground bare save for a fine dusting of frozen powder that moved and eddied about them as they trudged miserably on. That first night the temperature began to plummet, dropping well below freezing and staying there for the long week they spent hiking toward the Risilvar Escarpment looming rosily at the horizon. Anania's skills at survival were put to the test as they travelled, but she managed to keep them fed and free of frostbite despite the conditions.
By the time they spotted the fortress on the afternoon of Godsday they were moving through shin-deep snow covered with a sheen of ice that crumbled beneath their every footfall. Only Karak and Anania seemed unperturbed by the terrain. Neither sank into the accumulation with each step. Karak's magical boots allowed him the luxury of walking atop the snow and Anania didn't even leave any footprints behind as she passed. For the others, however, the forced march was akin to torture, leaving them gasping and trembling with fatigue. The crumbling, lichen-covered walls of the fortress looked palatial to their eyes as they approached, the smoke rising from chimneys within promising a warm fire and a respite from sleeping beneath the stars on frozen ground.
The disappointment was palpable upon spotting a yellow swath of cloth indicating plague nailed to the closed gate. Anania raised a hand to forestall the group even as an arrow arched up from the keep into the twilight before thunking down into the permafrost near Karak's boots.
"Oi!" the dwarf bellowed in protest and a voice answered from atop the wall.
"Move off, outlanders!" someone shouted. "You'll find no succor here!"
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #424] Little Keep on the Borderlands
"Watch who ye be shootin' at, ye bunyun-brained anvil-droppin' goblin spawn!" Karak shouted back, the paragon of dwarven diplomacy, and shook his axe in the air for emphasis. "We're nae yer enemies!"
"Perhaps it is best not to antagonize them," Anania suggested, estimating the distance between their current position and the archer behind the wall. It wasn't point blank range, but it was darned close. She notched an arrow into her bow and waited for the keep's reply.
"This is your last warning!" the voice shouted from within. "Come no closer or you'll find an arrow in your throat."
"Charming," Ixin said as she came up behind the dwarf and the elf.
"Fireball is always an answer, regardless of the question," Huzair's voice spoke from the air amongst them. The mage had turned invisible, but the faint smell of smoke that always surrounded him betrayed his presence near them. "I also have a Web spell if you want to have someone to interrogate afterwards."
"Huzair, let's away before we make even greater targets of ourselves. This situation is best left alone... the mark of Aphyx is clearly posted for all to see," Morier said as he stepped up behind Karak. He didn't bother looking for the wizard, but kept his eyes trained on the weather worn battlements for any sign of archers. "I see no valid reason to put ourselves in harm's way to disturb this place. Yes, we near exhaustion, I feel it too, but let's get away from here and find a suitable place with cover. I can't imagine what we've to gain inside."
"I like Morier's idea of falling back and watching to see what we can see," Shamalin huffed as she caught up to the others. She was breathing hard and sweating profusely under her heavy plate despite the cold. "If we make it a night, that also allows me to adjust my spell list to make it more specific to the current situation."
"Hang on," Ayremac protested. "Are we not heroes? Must we retreat from every obstacle?"
"Who said anything about retreating?" Huzair's voice asked. "I am suggesting a full frontal assault before they can poke us full of arrows." Morier sighed, pulling his eyes away from the keep and looking at the holy warrior.
"I understand yours and Huzair's feelings. And believe me, I don't want to overestimate my own importance... but the pull in my head is the only thing leading us toward our goal at this point," the albino explained, his tone sullen. "I don't feel like I have the freedom to take unnecessary risks. In many ways it's contrary to the ways of the Eldritch Warrior... I struggle with it every day, probably more than all of you know."
"Morier, you understand this is a clandestine mission," Ayremac argued. "We have been set upon this path by Higher Powers, and for all we know this fortress has been put before us for some reason we cannot even begin to comprehend."
"And for all we know it hasn't," the eldritch warrior countered. "It could just be chance that we stumbled upon it. And as a matter of fact I think it probably was."
"Trust me, Morier. You may not realize it, but I can feel Umba is leading us here," Ayremac said with utter confidence and Morier turned away with a resigned shake of his head.
"What did you have in mind?" Ixin asked the holy warrior.
"Let me try to convince them," Ayremac said to the group. "I can fly up there and persuade them to let us enter."
"There seems little harm in that," Ixin said with a nod. "We'll have lost nothing by trying the diplomatic approach." Anania nodded in agreement and Karak harrumphed but said nothing.
"Okay, fly boy. You go up there and do that. But do not get too close," Huzair's voice spoke from the air to their right. His feet scrunched the snow as he moved away from the group. The remains of a large bonfire thrust darkly up from the snow in that direction. "I will just hide behind this rubble over here. And oh, I have got your back." Being invisible did little to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
Shamalin doffed her helmet and took the golden Circlet of Persuasion from its place amongst her sweaty locks.
"Here," the cleric said, offering the band to Ayremac. "This will help." Ayremac took it and wiped it fastidiously dry on his cloak before removing his own helmet and settling it amongst his platinum hair.
"Thank you," he said to Shamalin before turning toward the fortress with his helmet beneath one arm. He stepped in front of Anania and shouted, "People of the keep! I am an Officer of Umba, a trusted holy man of the town of Frothingham to the north. We are traveling the countryside trying to heal the sick and find a cure for a plague that is spreading throughout the region. Would you allow me to meet with your town leadership to see what help I can bring?"
They waited for a reply, but all was quiet from within and Ayremac turned to look back at the others. He shrugged and replaced his helmet before taking to the air. Shamalin stepped quickly behind Karak and began casting Detect Thoughts from the cover provided by the dwarf.
"I assure you that I am not at risk of infecting you or you infecting me," the holy warrior said as he rose gracefully upwards. "My Celestial blood grants me that advantage. If you cannot trust in me, a son of angels, who will you put your trust in?"
There was no reply to his honeyed words as he soared up above the battlements, but he got a good look at the keep's interior. He was not impressed. It was all mud and ramshackle buildings with sod roofs. There was an obvious stable but no visible horses and an equally obvious smithy in which no forge burned and the hammer and anvil were silent. He saw the bowman, however, a lanky man with cornsilk hair and beard dressed in ratty furs and clutching a bow that seemed pretty pathetic after seeing Anania's so much over the last weeks. The man stood in the open space beside the gate half in the shadows of a wooden catwalk that ran along the wall. He seemed stunned to see Ayremac hovering above him in the twilight and his jaw hung open revealing a mouthful of brown teeth.
Shamalin concentrated on her spell, listening to the cacophony of thoughts given voice in her head. Most were of a type that she should have expected.
"An angel! Brogine's Balls! A real angel!" and "Perhaps he'll deliver us!" and "We're saved! We must be saved! Surely!"
But a few others gave her pause.
"He'll kill us all!" and "Dear gods, why won't they just go!?" and "They follow me even here? How far must I run?"
"Truth be told, we need you as much if not more," Ayremac said, hovering above the parapet and flashing a smile that seemed almost painfully white in the semi-darkness. "It is cold, and we crave a warm fire and the stories of your stronghold. Will you please open your doors to us?"
The bowman jerked his head away from Ayremac and looked into the dark beneath the walkway. The holy warrior could see another figure there, broad and thick-limbed, with whom the archer was conferring, but he could not hear their words. At last the bowman turned his face skyward once more and shouted up at Ayremac.
"T-tomorrow at sunrise!" he stammered, looking back at the shadowy figure for reassurance that he was doing the right thing. "We'll send an... an envoy to meet you then! If... if you are who you say... then we'll let you in. Tomorrow!"
Crouched in the snow beside the charred remains of the fire, Huzair couldn't hear most of the exchange, but he was really inclined to listen anyway. He had prepared both Fireball and Web that morning and either was ready to go at a moment's notice. Hells, BOTH were ready to go in succession if that seemed advisable, but he had a feeling that Pyrotechnics would be most effective in the wake of his Fireball. He'd put it to good use the last time they'd been faced with archers.
As he crouched there, grinning invisibly, he absently looked at the blackened remains of the fire. It was getting hard to pick out fine detail in the rapidly darkening twilight, but there amidst the burned logs and charcoal he spotted some blackened bones. Many were large - too large to be human - a horse or cow perhaps. But then he saw staring out of the snow at the edge of the firepit a human skull, darkened by flames, but still displaying the gouge above the left eye socket that could only have been left by the killing blow of a slashing weapon.
"Watch who ye be shootin' at, ye bunyun-brained anvil-droppin' goblin spawn!" Karak shouted back, the paragon of dwarven diplomacy, and shook his axe in the air for emphasis. "We're nae yer enemies!"
"Perhaps it is best not to antagonize them," Anania suggested, estimating the distance between their current position and the archer behind the wall. It wasn't point blank range, but it was darned close. She notched an arrow into her bow and waited for the keep's reply.
"This is your last warning!" the voice shouted from within. "Come no closer or you'll find an arrow in your throat."
"Charming," Ixin said as she came up behind the dwarf and the elf.
"Fireball is always an answer, regardless of the question," Huzair's voice spoke from the air amongst them. The mage had turned invisible, but the faint smell of smoke that always surrounded him betrayed his presence near them. "I also have a Web spell if you want to have someone to interrogate afterwards."
"Huzair, let's away before we make even greater targets of ourselves. This situation is best left alone... the mark of Aphyx is clearly posted for all to see," Morier said as he stepped up behind Karak. He didn't bother looking for the wizard, but kept his eyes trained on the weather worn battlements for any sign of archers. "I see no valid reason to put ourselves in harm's way to disturb this place. Yes, we near exhaustion, I feel it too, but let's get away from here and find a suitable place with cover. I can't imagine what we've to gain inside."
"I like Morier's idea of falling back and watching to see what we can see," Shamalin huffed as she caught up to the others. She was breathing hard and sweating profusely under her heavy plate despite the cold. "If we make it a night, that also allows me to adjust my spell list to make it more specific to the current situation."
"Hang on," Ayremac protested. "Are we not heroes? Must we retreat from every obstacle?"
"Who said anything about retreating?" Huzair's voice asked. "I am suggesting a full frontal assault before they can poke us full of arrows." Morier sighed, pulling his eyes away from the keep and looking at the holy warrior.
"I understand yours and Huzair's feelings. And believe me, I don't want to overestimate my own importance... but the pull in my head is the only thing leading us toward our goal at this point," the albino explained, his tone sullen. "I don't feel like I have the freedom to take unnecessary risks. In many ways it's contrary to the ways of the Eldritch Warrior... I struggle with it every day, probably more than all of you know."
"Morier, you understand this is a clandestine mission," Ayremac argued. "We have been set upon this path by Higher Powers, and for all we know this fortress has been put before us for some reason we cannot even begin to comprehend."
"And for all we know it hasn't," the eldritch warrior countered. "It could just be chance that we stumbled upon it. And as a matter of fact I think it probably was."
"Trust me, Morier. You may not realize it, but I can feel Umba is leading us here," Ayremac said with utter confidence and Morier turned away with a resigned shake of his head.
"What did you have in mind?" Ixin asked the holy warrior.
"Let me try to convince them," Ayremac said to the group. "I can fly up there and persuade them to let us enter."
"There seems little harm in that," Ixin said with a nod. "We'll have lost nothing by trying the diplomatic approach." Anania nodded in agreement and Karak harrumphed but said nothing.
"Okay, fly boy. You go up there and do that. But do not get too close," Huzair's voice spoke from the air to their right. His feet scrunched the snow as he moved away from the group. The remains of a large bonfire thrust darkly up from the snow in that direction. "I will just hide behind this rubble over here. And oh, I have got your back." Being invisible did little to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
Shamalin doffed her helmet and took the golden Circlet of Persuasion from its place amongst her sweaty locks.
"Here," the cleric said, offering the band to Ayremac. "This will help." Ayremac took it and wiped it fastidiously dry on his cloak before removing his own helmet and settling it amongst his platinum hair.
"Thank you," he said to Shamalin before turning toward the fortress with his helmet beneath one arm. He stepped in front of Anania and shouted, "People of the keep! I am an Officer of Umba, a trusted holy man of the town of Frothingham to the north. We are traveling the countryside trying to heal the sick and find a cure for a plague that is spreading throughout the region. Would you allow me to meet with your town leadership to see what help I can bring?"
They waited for a reply, but all was quiet from within and Ayremac turned to look back at the others. He shrugged and replaced his helmet before taking to the air. Shamalin stepped quickly behind Karak and began casting Detect Thoughts from the cover provided by the dwarf.
"I assure you that I am not at risk of infecting you or you infecting me," the holy warrior said as he rose gracefully upwards. "My Celestial blood grants me that advantage. If you cannot trust in me, a son of angels, who will you put your trust in?"
There was no reply to his honeyed words as he soared up above the battlements, but he got a good look at the keep's interior. He was not impressed. It was all mud and ramshackle buildings with sod roofs. There was an obvious stable but no visible horses and an equally obvious smithy in which no forge burned and the hammer and anvil were silent. He saw the bowman, however, a lanky man with cornsilk hair and beard dressed in ratty furs and clutching a bow that seemed pretty pathetic after seeing Anania's so much over the last weeks. The man stood in the open space beside the gate half in the shadows of a wooden catwalk that ran along the wall. He seemed stunned to see Ayremac hovering above him in the twilight and his jaw hung open revealing a mouthful of brown teeth.
Shamalin concentrated on her spell, listening to the cacophony of thoughts given voice in her head. Most were of a type that she should have expected.
"An angel! Brogine's Balls! A real angel!" and "Perhaps he'll deliver us!" and "We're saved! We must be saved! Surely!"
But a few others gave her pause.
"He'll kill us all!" and "Dear gods, why won't they just go!?" and "They follow me even here? How far must I run?"
"Truth be told, we need you as much if not more," Ayremac said, hovering above the parapet and flashing a smile that seemed almost painfully white in the semi-darkness. "It is cold, and we crave a warm fire and the stories of your stronghold. Will you please open your doors to us?"
The bowman jerked his head away from Ayremac and looked into the dark beneath the walkway. The holy warrior could see another figure there, broad and thick-limbed, with whom the archer was conferring, but he could not hear their words. At last the bowman turned his face skyward once more and shouted up at Ayremac.
"T-tomorrow at sunrise!" he stammered, looking back at the shadowy figure for reassurance that he was doing the right thing. "We'll send an... an envoy to meet you then! If... if you are who you say... then we'll let you in. Tomorrow!"
Crouched in the snow beside the charred remains of the fire, Huzair couldn't hear most of the exchange, but he was really inclined to listen anyway. He had prepared both Fireball and Web that morning and either was ready to go at a moment's notice. Hells, BOTH were ready to go in succession if that seemed advisable, but he had a feeling that Pyrotechnics would be most effective in the wake of his Fireball. He'd put it to good use the last time they'd been faced with archers.
As he crouched there, grinning invisibly, he absently looked at the blackened remains of the fire. It was getting hard to pick out fine detail in the rapidly darkening twilight, but there amidst the burned logs and charcoal he spotted some blackened bones. Many were large - too large to be human - a horse or cow perhaps. But then he saw staring out of the snow at the edge of the firepit a human skull, darkened by flames, but still displaying the gouge above the left eye socket that could only have been left by the killing blow of a slashing weapon.
Burningspear
First Post
darkhall-nestor said:
LOL, that makes me think of that freakishly good song...
"So caught up" by Usher
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #425] Just Another Night on the Tundra
Ayremac soared back to the others and alighted between them and the keep. He shook his head and explained what he'd seen. "i think they're just scared," he said. "They said we could meet with someone tomorrow."
"Hrmf! Wait until tomorrow... Why? So they can have their arrows poisened even more?" Karak grumbled and Morier nodded.
"I say we slide out under cover of night," the albino said. "Ayremac saw that there's nothing to the place. No reason to waste our time here... Let's move out rather than give them time to plan their ambush."
"I disagree strongly," Huzair's voice spoke up. He quickly told them about the bones he'd found in the fire. "I want to find what happened here. You are one horrible detective, whitey."
"And anyway, I don't think we can just leave these people to their fates," Shamalin spoke up. "I have a duty to help them if I can. And if we wait until tomorrow, I can prepare a miracle that will let me speak with the dead skull in the fire pit to see what's been going on."
"Tomorrow?" Karak growled. "I say the time is now. Shelia do you agree? I thought so." And saying thus, he hefted the waraxe and started toward the keep. The others watched him go, slack jawed.
"Wait, you big hairy doofus! Sit your ass down and let us talk about this," Huzair hissed. "We need a plan, damn it." The dwarf hesitated, looking over his shoulder at the others.
"You plan," he said. "But if ye want in, I'll get ye in!"
"Should we help him?" Ixin asked, taking a hesitant step toward him. Anania shook her head.
"I fear that the dwarf has gone mad," she said.
"I can't come up with a valid reason to storm the castle here," Morier explained to the group. "Ayremac checked it out and saw nothing of interest and they've made it well known that they intend on attacking us if we approach. What's to be gained?
"Listen not to the words, but to the message, oh white-one-track-minded-one," Huzair said with a grin that they all could hear but none of them could see. "Oh, I have been dying to use that since Garan-Zak used it on me."
"What are you talking about?" Morier snapped, his lip curled in disdain.
"The man inside is scared, Morier. He is bluffing," the mage explained. "Obviously the keep was recently under attack and he is afraid. There is lots of information to be gained here."
"Perhaps, Huzair," Anania offered. "But I am not sure that leading a lone warrior assault is the way to gain what knowledge is hidden here." Huzair looked at the dwarf who had paused to cast some sort of protective ward on himself.
"Good point, my sweet. I better follow Karak to make sure he does not hurt someone," Huzair said, crunching away invisibly after the dwarf. Just before he was out of earshot he added, "The hairy moron!"
"Like sprytes, I tell you, flitting about here and there with no direction at all!" Morier cursed. "If we stop to pick a fight with every bit of yellow cloth we see between here and our goal, perhaps our grandchildren can reunite Dridana's heart and body." He said this, but still he drew Stoneblade and made to follow after Karak and Huzair.
"A KEEP?!" the sword thundered. "STONE WALLS WILL NOT LONG KEEP ME OUT!" Ayremac's hand grabbed hold of Morier's bicep stopping his advance.
"I don't mind taking a risk here, but can't see that there is any benefit to getting right in these peoples' faces," the Holy Warrior said. Shamalin looked around the half-celestial's wing and her eyes were full of concern.
"What is the rationale for storming the keep, Morier?" she asked. "We don't have to go, you know."
"It does seem a little foolish," Ixin nodded. "We can meet with the townsfolk in the morning, gain the same knowledge, and have risked nothing."
"Tell that to Karak!" the albino snapped. "I agree with you; this is a bad idea!"
"COWARD!" Stoneblade protested.
"Shut up!" Ixin, Shamalin, and Morier shouted in unison.
"Ho! The keep!" Karak shouted, hammering the handle of his waraxe against the gate. "Open yer doors an' let us 'elp ye with yer little disease problem!" He heard voices within but could make out no words. A moment later, Ayremac landed beside him in a rush of air.
"Karak, stay your hand!" the Officer of Umba pleaded. "None of us has a desire to force our way inside. These people need out help, not an assault." Karak harrumphed.
"Ye lot were talkin' o' sneakin' about to gain entry," the dwarf countered. "My way be faster an' a far sight more honorable, ta boot. It be the dwarven way." Ayremac shook his head.
"No one's planning to sneak inside," the holy warrior assured him. "We're going to camp tonight and meet with the keep's representative in the morning."
"Oh." The dwarf's face softened and he turned away from the gate. "I be fine with that."
"I still say I could have used the Ring of Blinking to sneak inside and then used Web to stop any opposition before it started," Huzair groused as he huddled inside his blanket, inches away from the fire. "And if we ever get anywhere dry with... oh, I do not know... a table, maybe... and a chair... I have a scroll of Leomund's Tiny Hut that I will scribe into my spell book. No more sleeping in a snow cave after that!"
"That sounds appealing," Ixin said, miserably. Anania scowled slightly, the barest downturn of her mouth.
"I apologize that I have been unable to keep you all in the manner to which you are accustomed," she said. "But trust me, I too have places I would rather be."
"I did not mean to insult you, my gentle flower," the wizard soothed. "Neodig knows what state we'd be in if it weren't for you. We'd have to rely on Morier to get us through. Tell us again how you did with Ledare and Feln during the Air Walk, pull boy."
"Are you taking first watch?" Morier asked in response. He noticed Ixin's mood darken visibly at mention of the trials of the Grove of Renewal. Trials she had failed. But no one else seemed to note the change in the drakeling's demeanor, least of all, Huzair.
"I am not going on any watch with that plane-sucking thing still around," the wizard scoffed. "It went straight for me last time. I do not want to chance it taking me again." Karak harrumphed and tugged off first his gauntlet and then the Ring of Freedom he wore on that hand. He tossed the band to Huzair.
"'Ere, ye big Sally," the dwarf grumbled. "This'll keep ye from bein' any beastie's lunch. An' I'll take first watch." Huzair looked at the Ring and delight danced in his eyes.
"This does not mean we are married or anything does it, dwarf?" the wizard asked. Karak harrumphed once and left the shelter without saying anything more.
"I guess I'm with him," Ayremac said, moving to get up, but Ixin forestalled him.
"No," she said. "I'll go. I'm not really tired." But Morier caught her eye and knew that she was more bothered by Huzair's mention of the Grove of Renewal than she was letting on. And that, more than sleeplessness was what drove her to take first watch.
"Ixin," Huzair said, holding up the Ring of Freedom. "Take this... in case anything tries to whisk you away to another plane." She took it, with a wan smile.
"Thanks," she said, uttering the last word any of them would ever hear from her lips.
The night was brutal. The cold sapped strength and sensation. The roaring wind cut against exposed flesh like a dull razor and rendered their hearing nearly useless. It was, Karak knew, a night when both Great Celune and Merunna the Handmaiden were full in the sky, but the cloud cover rendered the night as dark as pitch. Driving snow made them almost blind despite their darkvision, and almost totally concealing the two watchers from each other unless they stood within ten feet of one another. And even then, they were reduced to dark shapes amidst the vortex of snow.
It was little surprise that they didn't spot the scrying sensor. And little wonder that they did not see a dark serpentine shape making its way toward the sunken shelter until it was already in their midst. Karak reacted at once, swinging Shelia around in a mighty, double-handed chop that came down onto the thing's viscid back with finality. The thing let out a fierce trilling cry of pain and reared up on itself, towering over the dwarf like the mast of a ship half-glimpsed amidst the swirling snow.
Its cry, however was enough to draw Ixin's attention. She breathed and fire scoured the shapeless thing, momentarily lighting Karak's face in harsh relief as the determined dwarf stood his ground, drawing his axe back for another go. Ixin never saw whether that blow landed or not, for at that moment the amorphous thing fell on the dwarf like a foul wave, drawing Karak into its grasp. She lost sight of them then, and took a single step toward the melee when fire exploded in her chest.
She looked down to see two feet of steel protruding wetly from below her right breast. There was a harsh tugging sensation and the blade disappeared, withdrawing back into her body, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out how a sword - especially one of that size - could fit inside her torso. Then blood was running hotly down her body and the horrible burning in her chest was only growing worse. She fell to her knees, then forward onto one hand. She tried to cry out, but there was no air.
She was trying to figure out how that could be when a second lance of pain shot through her side and she fell into the snow. Its cold embrace felt very good against the fire that burned in her, but it was getting harder to see, she noticed and rolled awkwardly to one side. A man loomed over her, she could see. And in one hand he carried a massive sword. As she stared up, he bent down and seized her by the cloak, drawing her easily off the ground with his left hand.
"How many of you must I kill to be rid of-," he stopped, his eyes studying Ixin's face intently. She looked at his and took in what details there were: brown hair that had gone shaggy, a hard jaw that was covered by the makings of a beard, a hawkish nose that showed evidence of multiple breaks, gray eyes rimmed with crimson... eyes that swam with madness. Those eyes looked at her, confused, and then he blinked.
"Ixin?" the man asked. "Is that you?" She tried to say something approximating yes, but it came out as a wet gurgle. "Where is Ledare, Ixin? I must find Ledare. Where is she?"
"Dead," Ixin said, although she suspected that she only mouthed the word rather than actually speaking it. But the man got the message and it was clearly not a welcome one. He wailed in despair, like a wolf with its foot in a trap. then his face hardened and he dropped her back into the snow, gripped his bastard sword in two meaty hands then drove its point into the drakeling's chest. She felt the burning replaced by a numbing chill as the sword pierced her heart and the blade drank her soul.
Ayremac soared back to the others and alighted between them and the keep. He shook his head and explained what he'd seen. "i think they're just scared," he said. "They said we could meet with someone tomorrow."
"Hrmf! Wait until tomorrow... Why? So they can have their arrows poisened even more?" Karak grumbled and Morier nodded.
"I say we slide out under cover of night," the albino said. "Ayremac saw that there's nothing to the place. No reason to waste our time here... Let's move out rather than give them time to plan their ambush."
"I disagree strongly," Huzair's voice spoke up. He quickly told them about the bones he'd found in the fire. "I want to find what happened here. You are one horrible detective, whitey."
"And anyway, I don't think we can just leave these people to their fates," Shamalin spoke up. "I have a duty to help them if I can. And if we wait until tomorrow, I can prepare a miracle that will let me speak with the dead skull in the fire pit to see what's been going on."
"Tomorrow?" Karak growled. "I say the time is now. Shelia do you agree? I thought so." And saying thus, he hefted the waraxe and started toward the keep. The others watched him go, slack jawed.
"Wait, you big hairy doofus! Sit your ass down and let us talk about this," Huzair hissed. "We need a plan, damn it." The dwarf hesitated, looking over his shoulder at the others.
"You plan," he said. "But if ye want in, I'll get ye in!"
"Should we help him?" Ixin asked, taking a hesitant step toward him. Anania shook her head.
"I fear that the dwarf has gone mad," she said.
"I can't come up with a valid reason to storm the castle here," Morier explained to the group. "Ayremac checked it out and saw nothing of interest and they've made it well known that they intend on attacking us if we approach. What's to be gained?
"Listen not to the words, but to the message, oh white-one-track-minded-one," Huzair said with a grin that they all could hear but none of them could see. "Oh, I have been dying to use that since Garan-Zak used it on me."
"What are you talking about?" Morier snapped, his lip curled in disdain.
"The man inside is scared, Morier. He is bluffing," the mage explained. "Obviously the keep was recently under attack and he is afraid. There is lots of information to be gained here."
"Perhaps, Huzair," Anania offered. "But I am not sure that leading a lone warrior assault is the way to gain what knowledge is hidden here." Huzair looked at the dwarf who had paused to cast some sort of protective ward on himself.
"Good point, my sweet. I better follow Karak to make sure he does not hurt someone," Huzair said, crunching away invisibly after the dwarf. Just before he was out of earshot he added, "The hairy moron!"
"Like sprytes, I tell you, flitting about here and there with no direction at all!" Morier cursed. "If we stop to pick a fight with every bit of yellow cloth we see between here and our goal, perhaps our grandchildren can reunite Dridana's heart and body." He said this, but still he drew Stoneblade and made to follow after Karak and Huzair.
"A KEEP?!" the sword thundered. "STONE WALLS WILL NOT LONG KEEP ME OUT!" Ayremac's hand grabbed hold of Morier's bicep stopping his advance.
"I don't mind taking a risk here, but can't see that there is any benefit to getting right in these peoples' faces," the Holy Warrior said. Shamalin looked around the half-celestial's wing and her eyes were full of concern.
"What is the rationale for storming the keep, Morier?" she asked. "We don't have to go, you know."
"It does seem a little foolish," Ixin nodded. "We can meet with the townsfolk in the morning, gain the same knowledge, and have risked nothing."
"Tell that to Karak!" the albino snapped. "I agree with you; this is a bad idea!"
"COWARD!" Stoneblade protested.
"Shut up!" Ixin, Shamalin, and Morier shouted in unison.
"Ho! The keep!" Karak shouted, hammering the handle of his waraxe against the gate. "Open yer doors an' let us 'elp ye with yer little disease problem!" He heard voices within but could make out no words. A moment later, Ayremac landed beside him in a rush of air.
"Karak, stay your hand!" the Officer of Umba pleaded. "None of us has a desire to force our way inside. These people need out help, not an assault." Karak harrumphed.
"Ye lot were talkin' o' sneakin' about to gain entry," the dwarf countered. "My way be faster an' a far sight more honorable, ta boot. It be the dwarven way." Ayremac shook his head.
"No one's planning to sneak inside," the holy warrior assured him. "We're going to camp tonight and meet with the keep's representative in the morning."
"Oh." The dwarf's face softened and he turned away from the gate. "I be fine with that."
"I still say I could have used the Ring of Blinking to sneak inside and then used Web to stop any opposition before it started," Huzair groused as he huddled inside his blanket, inches away from the fire. "And if we ever get anywhere dry with... oh, I do not know... a table, maybe... and a chair... I have a scroll of Leomund's Tiny Hut that I will scribe into my spell book. No more sleeping in a snow cave after that!"
"That sounds appealing," Ixin said, miserably. Anania scowled slightly, the barest downturn of her mouth.
"I apologize that I have been unable to keep you all in the manner to which you are accustomed," she said. "But trust me, I too have places I would rather be."
"I did not mean to insult you, my gentle flower," the wizard soothed. "Neodig knows what state we'd be in if it weren't for you. We'd have to rely on Morier to get us through. Tell us again how you did with Ledare and Feln during the Air Walk, pull boy."
"Are you taking first watch?" Morier asked in response. He noticed Ixin's mood darken visibly at mention of the trials of the Grove of Renewal. Trials she had failed. But no one else seemed to note the change in the drakeling's demeanor, least of all, Huzair.
"I am not going on any watch with that plane-sucking thing still around," the wizard scoffed. "It went straight for me last time. I do not want to chance it taking me again." Karak harrumphed and tugged off first his gauntlet and then the Ring of Freedom he wore on that hand. He tossed the band to Huzair.
"'Ere, ye big Sally," the dwarf grumbled. "This'll keep ye from bein' any beastie's lunch. An' I'll take first watch." Huzair looked at the Ring and delight danced in his eyes.
"This does not mean we are married or anything does it, dwarf?" the wizard asked. Karak harrumphed once and left the shelter without saying anything more.
"I guess I'm with him," Ayremac said, moving to get up, but Ixin forestalled him.
"No," she said. "I'll go. I'm not really tired." But Morier caught her eye and knew that she was more bothered by Huzair's mention of the Grove of Renewal than she was letting on. And that, more than sleeplessness was what drove her to take first watch.
"Ixin," Huzair said, holding up the Ring of Freedom. "Take this... in case anything tries to whisk you away to another plane." She took it, with a wan smile.
"Thanks," she said, uttering the last word any of them would ever hear from her lips.
The night was brutal. The cold sapped strength and sensation. The roaring wind cut against exposed flesh like a dull razor and rendered their hearing nearly useless. It was, Karak knew, a night when both Great Celune and Merunna the Handmaiden were full in the sky, but the cloud cover rendered the night as dark as pitch. Driving snow made them almost blind despite their darkvision, and almost totally concealing the two watchers from each other unless they stood within ten feet of one another. And even then, they were reduced to dark shapes amidst the vortex of snow.
It was little surprise that they didn't spot the scrying sensor. And little wonder that they did not see a dark serpentine shape making its way toward the sunken shelter until it was already in their midst. Karak reacted at once, swinging Shelia around in a mighty, double-handed chop that came down onto the thing's viscid back with finality. The thing let out a fierce trilling cry of pain and reared up on itself, towering over the dwarf like the mast of a ship half-glimpsed amidst the swirling snow.
Its cry, however was enough to draw Ixin's attention. She breathed and fire scoured the shapeless thing, momentarily lighting Karak's face in harsh relief as the determined dwarf stood his ground, drawing his axe back for another go. Ixin never saw whether that blow landed or not, for at that moment the amorphous thing fell on the dwarf like a foul wave, drawing Karak into its grasp. She lost sight of them then, and took a single step toward the melee when fire exploded in her chest.
She looked down to see two feet of steel protruding wetly from below her right breast. There was a harsh tugging sensation and the blade disappeared, withdrawing back into her body, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out how a sword - especially one of that size - could fit inside her torso. Then blood was running hotly down her body and the horrible burning in her chest was only growing worse. She fell to her knees, then forward onto one hand. She tried to cry out, but there was no air.
She was trying to figure out how that could be when a second lance of pain shot through her side and she fell into the snow. Its cold embrace felt very good against the fire that burned in her, but it was getting harder to see, she noticed and rolled awkwardly to one side. A man loomed over her, she could see. And in one hand he carried a massive sword. As she stared up, he bent down and seized her by the cloak, drawing her easily off the ground with his left hand.
"How many of you must I kill to be rid of-," he stopped, his eyes studying Ixin's face intently. She looked at his and took in what details there were: brown hair that had gone shaggy, a hard jaw that was covered by the makings of a beard, a hawkish nose that showed evidence of multiple breaks, gray eyes rimmed with crimson... eyes that swam with madness. Those eyes looked at her, confused, and then he blinked.
"Ixin?" the man asked. "Is that you?" She tried to say something approximating yes, but it came out as a wet gurgle. "Where is Ledare, Ixin? I must find Ledare. Where is she?"
"Dead," Ixin said, although she suspected that she only mouthed the word rather than actually speaking it. But the man got the message and it was clearly not a welcome one. He wailed in despair, like a wolf with its foot in a trap. then his face hardened and he dropped her back into the snow, gripped his bastard sword in two meaty hands then drove its point into the drakeling's chest. She felt the burning replaced by a numbing chill as the sword pierced her heart and the blade drank her soul.
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