[Realms #390] The Air Key
"Morier, why not try to be a good student and use some of what Uncle Appie tought you!" the wizard sputtered, spitting dust. Morier hefted Stoneblade and scowled.
"I've something else in mind," the Eldritch Warrior growled, charging the nearest of the creatures. Or rather he tried to. The soft. yielding nature of the cloud surface made it difficult to build up any momentum. He slogged through Shamalin's Wind Wall, feeling the rushing air tug at his hair and clothing, slowing him further. Still, it was only a few paces to close with the thing and then the greatsword was cleaving the creature in twain. The gray blade intersected it at the spot where its neck met its body and split it from there to a point just above its opposite hip, sending gore spewing in every direction.
Huzair got a disgusted look on his face. "That works too, I guess," he grimaced.
Karak winked at Shamalin, saying, "Nice work on the spell, lass. But I think the time for waitin' be passed!" He raised his waraxe and moved forward, implacable. His blade cut a glittering arc through the air, but failed to contact the foe he'd chosen.
Ixin, likewise, moved toward the last of the three nearby adversaries - the one that Huzair had already injured with his Burning Hands spell - and utterly missed it.
The advancing creature paused forty or so feet away and concentrated. A spiraling silver gate appeared beside it, opened and then closed again without disgorging anything. The flying thing shook its tiny arms and legs in impotent anger.
"Oi! It seems to me that those silvery gates will belch more of these air critters at us!" Karak grumbled as he spied the monster above. "We'll need to shut those gates or we will be swarmed."
On the cloud above, Ayremac stuffed the Elemental Air Key beneath his armor and started grabbing other items within reach. A shriek of alarm made him look up in time to see a pair of the things breathe cones of grit onto him. His wings flexed once and he was able to dart away from the brunt of the attack, but he still felt the sting of debris scouring his flesh.
The magic from the Invisibility Ring faltered and he reappeared atop the cloud, his expression annoyed. He pressed his hand against the holy symbol worked into the breastplate of his armor and shouted, "Umba, lend me your Holy power that I might Smite those who stand in my way!"
A shaft of celestial light seemed to shine down from Heaven itself, bathing the two creatures in its righteous glow. They shrieked again, clawing futilely at their skin as the divine magic laid waste to their bodies. They twisted and shriveled and dropped lifeless to the surface of the cloud.
The creatures facing Karak and Ixin both surrounded themselves with an obscuring shroud of mist, Blur-ing their outlines. Then they darted back and away to put some distance between themselves and their flightless foes. Both the dwarf and the drakeling seized the momentary opportunity to strike at their opponent.
Karak's axe clipped the leg of his enemy, causing the creature to spin in the air before it righted itself and sneered at him. Ixin's scimitar sliced across her foe's throat, nearly separating its head from its body. It flopped in the air, a bubbling fountain of blood gurgling down its torso for a moment before it fell.
Huzair drew out his Wand of Scorch and pointed it at the thing that Karak had wounded. A jet of fire shot from the wand, struck the creature and burned it to a roughly humanoid cinder.
There was little the last flying creature could do. It lacked the ability to summon another of its kind more often than once per day; and the spell was unreliable even then. The summoning had failed today, leaving it alone. It cloaked itself hopefully in Blur-ing mist, but that was no defense against the barrage of Magic Missiles that Huzair and Ixin launched at it.
Less than twenty anti-climactic seconds later it was plummeting lifelessly through the endless sky.
They had been so long battling and testing that when the moment had finally come to lower defenses and breathe a collective sigh of relief, they were loathe to do so. The warriors looked around quietly, waiting. There anticipation of some other threat was clearly seen in their tense postures. Shamalin called on her goddess to grant her a spell of Sanctuary, but there was nothing else to hear save the sigh of the wind, eerily muted by the bilious clouds.
"Could this be it?" the cleric asked, half expecting the words to conjure some new horror to confront. But none presented itself.
"I must say we did pretty well for ourselves," Huzair mused, a toothsome grin splitting his dark face. "This was the easiest test yet... Almost too easy." Shamalin shifted uncomfortably at that thought.
"What do we do now?" she asked, looking around at her companions.
"Let us head back. We did it!' Huzair told her and gave his travel-worn cloak a shake that released a cloud of grit around him. "Damn, my clothes sure got dusty."
"I'm ready to be done with this place," Morier admitted, sheathing his sword. Karak nodded.
"Aye, just as soon as Ayremac be done above, I reckon we can quit this place and get back to the real world!" he brought the Ring of Communication to his lips and asked, "Are ye doin' a'right up there?"
"I'm fine, but I could use a little help with this stuff," the holy warrior answered. "There's a lot of precious stones, some armor. Too much for me to carry by myself."
Morier looked at Huzair, who was explaining to Ixin the fact that they all thought the battle was won. "Time to get up there with your fancy bag, Huzair," the albino observed, cocking a thumb skyward.
"I do not think we should be splitting up," the mage countered smoothly. "Tell him to grab what he can, bring it down and he can fly back up with the Haversack to secure the rest."
They accepted the wizard's plan and Ayremac grabbed a few things - the longbow, the wand, roughly half the sapphires and the Elemental Key - with the intention of returning to gather the remainder once he'd retrieved Huzair's Handy Haversack. That was his intention, but the reality was somewhat different; as soon as he got within 10 feet of the group, the circle of air runes that surrounded them flared with light and all of them felt the gut-wrenching sensation of being pulled bodily across dimensions.
They reappeared in the Elemental Hub - which seemed very cramped and stuffy indeed after the open sky of the Air Node.
"So much for going back for the rest," Huzair scowled at Ayremac.
"I could try passing through the Air Door again," the holy warrior suggested. "There was a suit of banded mail and at least another handful of these." He displayed his bulging belt pouch and the glittering blue gems within. Karak whistled appreciatively at the sight, perhaps considering what they would buy if he again visited Balazaar.
"No, Ayremac," Shamalin objected. "What if the traps and other challenges are reset when you pass through?"
"Good point," Morier agreed. "Do you feel that you could pass those challenges alone if it came to it? All for the sake of a bit of treasure?"
"Now that is funny!" Huzair snapped. "Talk about preaching one thing and doing another! You are the only one of us who spent time as a professional adventurer, Morier. Was not your group's motto: Kill 'em all and take their stuff?" Morier shot the mage a glance filled with daggers.
"Unlike some people, I've managed to grow up a great deal since my youth," the eldritch warrior replied. "It is foolish for Ayremac to risk his life needlessly."
"Aye! The white elf be right!" Karak said, stamping his waraxe on the floor for emphasis. "Place the Key and let's quit these tests! I never thought I'd say this, but I'm growin' weary o' tunnels."
Ayremac's face shown with excitement. "Everyone's sure about me getting the next Elemental Blade?" he asked and everyone (except Ixin who did not understand the question) nodded. That was all the more encouragement he needed.
The holy warrior strode purposefully to the center of the room and inserted the Key of Air into the final opening in the floor. Immediately the hole in the middle began to glow brightly and he reached in pulling forth a weapon that was all but invisible. It swirled like a maelstrom in his fist and a breathy voice sighed, "I am Windblade, Scion of Air, mightiest of the elemental blades!"
Ayremac smiled, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a startled cry from Shamalin. An incandescent, smoky face was rising from the central well. Its features were hazy, indistinct, but none the less clearly elvish. Its mouth opened and it began to speak.
"I am Thermril Eniavust, First among the Eight, and you have completed the challenges we have set before you, passing our tests of spirit and mind and body, to free the four who are all," the ghostly visage told them. "It is likely that I will have passed beyond the cycles of the Green when you at last hear my words, but know you that you have my thanks, for you will be the one to return balance to the world by freeing the goddess, Dridana. Yours is a treacherous path, but one whose reward is great indeed. You must journey beyond the Serpent's Eye to the place where lies her heart and from there to a place beyond our beloved Green where heart and body may be reunited. I pray that our challenges have prepared you for what lies along the road ahead, and again you have my thanks. Walk with the goddess."
And then the face began to drift apart like the smoke it was.
, its never enough, u always want to read on... and on... and ..... on 
, anyway, thanks for writing and keep it up 
