The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Jon Potter]

To the Beach!

Since I am headed out for a vacation tomorrow and am unsure about having the opportunity to post at my usual time on Sunday, I decided to post this week's installment early.

Hope you like it.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #437] Death Comes to Colybury

Huzair darted up the stairs, reaching the jury-rigged lock at the same time that Morier slammed himself ineffectually against the other side. The doors bucked in their frames and the leather straps on the two swordbelts creaked under the strain, but they held. Inside Morier cursed.

"Let me help," Shamalin's voice said through the doors and Huzair rapped his knuckles on the wood.

"If you would stop pounding on the doors for a moment, I can get them open," he hissed in a sotto voice. There was a pause and then Morier spoke, his voice coming from very close to the door.

"Huzair?" he asked and the wizard paused to roll his eyes.

"Who else?" the mage asked as he worked at loosening the straps. "Now be ready. I almost have it."



"How much did they pay you, wizard?" Alechtus was taunting. His sword passed harmlessly through one of Doctor Akerman's Displaced images. "I'd warrant that it's not seeming enough right about now. Or perhaps you're a true believer! One of Calaam's faithful?" Alechtus' sword sliced through another of Akerman's images, and the Mirror Image drifted apart like the figment it was.

The remaining Akermans drew themselves into defensive stances, stepped back, and conjured Sonic Orbs. Each hurled its scintillating sphere at Alechtus, but the big man was deceptively light on his feet. He ducked the missiles and the spell slammed into the mass of Black Tentacles at his back detonating with an ear-splitting shriek of jarring sound.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" Alectus grinned and raised his sword. "I guess that means you're not a true believer. You're not nearly talkative enough to be one of them." He lunged with his sword and another of Akerman's Mirror Images drifted apart beneath his blade. He spun and stabbed with the weapon again, but this time his attack was foiled by the wizard's Blur.

"You've bitten off more than you can chew this day, murderer!" Akerman countered, drawing a chuckle from the swordsman.

"I doubt that!" Alechtus grinned dangerously. "You've already given me the means to defeat you."

"ALECHTUS!!!" Ayremac's rich baritone voice thundered down on the battle. "Your crimes have finally caught up with you and will soon overwhelm you! I will make the judgement of Umba available to you!" Alechtus half-turned sneering up over his shoulder at the holy warrior as Ayremac soared overhead. At that same moment, Ayremac drew back Windblade and threw it with all his might. The weapon spun end over end, a near-invisible disk of death as it whickered downward.

It seemed much less deadly once it struck the mud at Alechtus' feet.

"Your friends are back, wizard! Time for you to serve me!" Alechtus growled reaching for one of the Blurred Doctors. His hand passed through the first one and it vanished, but his second attempt prompted the wizard to yelp in surprise as Alechtus yanked hard on Akerman's arm, drawing him into a crushing embrace.

The swordsman turned in time to spot Morier stepping boldly forward and stabbing his greatsword into the ground beside the writhing Black Tentacles. The ground rippled in a straight line between the eldritch warrior and Alechtus. At once a Wall of Stone began to rise up in a ring around the big man and the grappled mage. Seeing the danger, Alechtus released his hold on Akerman and jumped, rolling narrowly over the top of the growing wall. He landed in a crouch just outside the ring of rock and, trapped inside, Doctor Akerman howled.

Alechtus had little chance to get to his feet before an arrow slammed into his right leg, burying itself several inches into the meat of his thigh. The swordsman grunted and cursed and yanked the arrow free just as its twin embedded itself in the mud between his boots. Blood was soaking the leg of his pants and he grimaced in pain as he settled weight onto that foot.

He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of magic in the air around him as Huzair hit him with a targeted Dispel Magic. At once several of his magical items ceased functioning. "No!" he cried, looking at the samsara sword.

Which was when the crocodile attacked. It let out a croaking roar as it loped improbably through the snow and came at Alechtus' weak leg. Its jaws snapped shut like a trap, but the swordsman stepped lithely back and the crocodile missed his limb by a wide margin.

"Homo Retine!" Shamalin commanded sending the strength of her faith against Allectus' will. She felt the Hold Person spell take effect, but then it seemed to slip off him as if he were protected from such magics.

Full of righteous fury, Ayremac swooped down, Windblade having returned to his hand. "For justice!" he cried and smote Alechtus on the shoulder. The big man's chain shirt saved his arm, but he still staggered under the impact and very nearly dropped his bastard sword. Blood was now dripping off him in torrents, staining the snow crimson at his feet.

He looked up at Ayremac with wild eyes, foam-flecked lips pulled back from his teeth like some horrible cannibal. "I'll kill you later, god boy!" he spat, his voice thick with rage and then he was running. Quick as a jackrabbit, he took off down the street and veered left between two buildings, disappearing entirely from view.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

Alechtus and Akerman seem to have a history, or at least Alechtus has a history of avoiding the doctor.

I bet the party was ticked at finally drawing blood only to see their quarry flee to "safety"

 

[Jon Potter]

I bet the party was ticked at finally drawing blood only to see their quarry flee to "safety"

Oh, you have no idea!

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #438] And the Streets Ran Red

Ayremac flexed his wings, shooting up in pursuit at once. Over his shoulder he barked, "We have to move!" and saw that the others were already on their way forward. Satisfied, he turned back toward his quarry and hurtled over the rooftop of the building separating pursuer and pursued.

Huzair watched him go and sneered, "Show off!"

Morier moved cautiously around the Black Tentacles, mindful of the spell's reach and trotted up to the newly formed tower of rock in the middle of King's Highway. He sliced once at the wall of the tower and the rock parted like flesh beneath Stoneblade. The narrow rent spread open until it was fully ten feet wide and looked in on the three remaining Doctor Akermans.

"Come on!" Morier shouted in at the wizard. "He's on the run!"

"We mustn't let him get away!" the mage replied and stepped outside the Wall of Stone just as Ahlear and Huzair dashed passed and after Alechtus. A crocodile loped along after the pair.

"Don't worry," Morier told the mage. "We've come this far. We're not going to lose him now!"

Shamalin stepped up to Morier and, with a touch, closed the last of the eldritch warrior's wounds.



Ayremac coasted over the top of the nearest building - a family home, by the look of it - his wings brushing wet snow from the thatch as he careened up and over. There was another similar building behind it separated from an apothecary on the left by another secondary road that was chocked with mud and wet snow. An old woman, apparently scared away from the disturbance at Umba's Court cowered in the shadow of the further residence.

There was no sign of Alechtus.

Ayremac landed nearby, folding his wings. "Where is the criminal?" he asked the woman, gesturing with Waveblade. "Which way did he go?!"

"I'm right here!" came a voice from behind him and Ayremac turned in time to see the big man clinging to the underside of the first building's eaves like an oversized spider. Then he sprang forward, launching himself, swordfirst at the holy warrior. Somehow, Ayremac managed to raise his shield in time to deflect the bastard sword away from himself, and Alechtus spilled into the snow at his side.

Ayremac raised Windblade and spun to face his foe, but the man was gone. He outweighed Ayremac by at least 40 pounds and was nearly half-a-foot taller, but somehow he'd disappeared in an eyeblink. Only a spatter of red blood amidst the disturbed snow indicated where Alechtus had fallen. Ayremac stood there in stunned silence for a moment, surrounded by the dripping of icemelt.

"He went 'round the corner," the old woman offered, pointing toward the apothecary's shop. Ayremac nodded his thanks and set off after him, but again there was no sign of his target.

The front of the building faced the side road but its front door was stoutly closed. A rain barrel stood beside the door, its surface alive with ripples as water dripped off the eaves. Ayremac looked up at once, but Alechtus wasn't there.

"You're learning, god boy!" Alechtus growled as he stood up from behind the barrel, catching Ayremac flat-footed. "But you're still not very bright!" The man stabbed again with his bastard sword and the weapon slipped with precision between the Officer's tasset and the plate of the cuisse on his left leg. He cried out as the jagged edge of the blade chewed through his flesh and sawed mercilessly along his thighbone. Alechtus was grinning as he pulled the sword free and watched Ayremac fall backward into the snow with blood fountaining from his groin.

"Ixin told me that you'd all come after me," the big man said as he stared down at the barely conscious Ayremac; blood was spreading out amidst the snow beneath where he lay. "I wish you hadn't. I've no quarrel with you." Trembling on the edge of shock, the holy warrior grimaced up at the swordsman.

"Ixin's dead," he spat. "You killed her!" Alechtus sighed at that.

"And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I did. She was always nice to me," he said. "But sometimes I get carried away and do things that I don't mean to. Surely you can understand that, Arland?" Ayremac started to speak, but Alechtus roared in pain as an arrow slammed into his left leg - a match for the blood-soaked wound in his right. Growling ferally, he turned to look in the direction the shot had come and spotted Anania moving swiftly toward them, her hand already going to the quiver at her hip.

Ayremac did the only thing he could think to do: he activated his Sacred Healing ability and promptly passed out.

Alechtus leveled his bloody blade at Anania and challenged, "You're next!" He started to move, but then a trio of Magic Missiles struck him in the back. He growled and half-turned just as Ahlear charged into his flank. The druid's magical warhammer crunched into the swordsman's shoulder, the same one that Ayremac had already smote with Windblade. This time Alechtus' chain shirt didn't save the joint. There was an audible CRACK! as the man's limb lost its battle with magically-augmented steel and the arm jerked and fluttered unnaturally for a moment. The impact half-turned Alechtus around, and he teetered on his feet for a heartbeat as if he might manage to retain his footing and stay in the fight.

Then the samsara sword dropped from his nerveless fingers and he fell, sideways into the slurry of mud and snow which choked the street.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #439] The Spoils of War

"Stand back, please! Stand back!" Doctor Akerman shrieked as he came forward, the loupe at the end of his staff plastered to his eye. He had evidently dismissed his protective wards, for there was only one of him and that one was clearly visible. His left hand was digging in the satchel he wore slung across his body as he rushed toward the focus of his long search, a sort of wild excitement in his countenance. "I mustn't miss it!"

As the mage trotted passed Ahlear turned and took the opportunity to extend his warhammer so that it blocked Akerman from the body. The wizard stopped short and turned a shocked face toward the druid.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" he exclaimed and at the same time produced a thick bronze disk from his bag.

"Akerman, will you now tell us what you really intend to do with this spark?" the druid asked, his expression unyielding. "I would like some answers before you dive onto this man who is going to die, not only because he deserves it, but also because you want something inside of him and have decided it is to be yours?" Akerman shot the man an indignant look and purposefully pushed the warhammer aside. Ahlear took no action to prevent him from approaching the body further.

"I intend to collect it! For study!" the wizard told him as he gave the bronze disk a half-twist. "Did we not go over this last night?" The disk sprang apart lengthwise as if it were on springs, revealing a complicated crystalline structure within.

"You have not yet given satisfactory explanation to your motives," Ahlear pressed. "Mind you, I am not saying you can't have him, I am merely stating I want to know your clear motive."

"My motive is academic!" the wizard snapped. "And I cannot be distracted now! Let me work!"

"He's right, the time for questioning has gone," Morier said as he trotted up to stand beside Ahlear. "We knew what the doctor intended before we engaged in this battle."

"Did we?" the druid questioned under his breath, but if the albino heard him he gave no answer.

"We got our justice," he said, kicking the samsara sword further away from Alechtus' body. "Now let's divvy up the spoils of this hard earned victory and be about the business we're intended to do."

"Here, here! He told us all this last night," Huzair muttered chomping on a victory cigar he was lighting with his thumb. "We can divvy up the booty once Doctor Ackerman harvests the spark for study. The Doc gets the Spark we get the rest. Right, Doc?" He paused, looking pointedly at Akerman, who was paying none of the conversation any mind as he carefully positioned his strange device on Alechtus' chest.

"See, he thinks that is fair," Huzair smiled. "Now let the man work, damn it! I am actually very interested in this and want to watch. Step aside." The wizard shouldered his way passed Morier and began casting Detect Magic.

Ahlear smirked at Huzair's comments and returned his warhammer to the loop on his belt. Taking two steps back, he struck a tindertwig and lit his pipe before kneeling down to scratch Nibble behind the ear. It was at this point that he jerked himself upright and looked around, saying, "Scripes! And where is my croc?"

"It disappeared," Shamalin said as she and Ayremac rejoined the group. The Mercybringer's magic seemed to have healed most of the holy warrior's injuries, but Ayremac's armor was slick with crimson and he had an unsettled look in his glittering eyes.

"You don't look so hot," Morier told him and sheathed Stoneblade across his back. The Officer of Umba looked at him coldly.

"Thanks for healing me," he muttered. "In the future, it might be nice to check if your friends are dead before checking on the enemies."

"I didn't want to step on Shamalin's toes," the eldritch warrior smirked. "Besides, you don't really want me trying to heal you. I'm only fit for the front line."

"Then why was I the one to strike the killing blow, Morier?" Ahlear asked as he puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. The albino shrugged.

"That shot I gave him back at the church must have brought him right to the edge for you," he suggested and Huzair snorted laughter.

"Sure, Morier. Whatever it takes to make you think you can play with the big boys," the mage said without turning to look at the albino. "Now, go let Shamalin heal you before you break." Morier cast a withering eye at Huzair's back and therefore missed the grin that played mischievously across Shamalin's face.

"There, now," Doctor Akerman said, straightening quickly and reaching inside his black jerkin. His strange bronze and crystalline device sat atop Alechtus' unmoving chest and he produced a small golden peg from within his clothing. This he fit into a small socket on the topmost bronze plate, and bracing the whole with one hand he began to crank the plate widdershins, the small peg providing him with a handle to do so. The crystalline structure within began to spin and a gradually increasing whirring noise arose from inside the device. As the sound reached the level of a dull roar, lighting seemed to arc up out of Alechtus' corpse only to be caught and drawn into the spinning crystal at the center of Akerman's device. The corpse shuddered and bowed up unnaturally off the ground as the device drew out the trapped divinity. The process took only a few moments and once the energy stopped arcing out of body, Akerman stopped cranking the device and the crystal slowly wound itself to a stop. It was glowing bright violet now and its light bathed the Doctor's awestruck features as he held it up.

"Neodig's Whisper!" he stammered. "TWO divinity sparks!"

Sure enough, there were two clear pinpoints of light drifting within the crystalline structure that was the center of Akerman's device.

"What does that mean, Doc?" Huzair asked, his voice hushed as he leaned in for a closer look.

"It means that Lauil and his entire team are wrong. Razortongue didn't absorb any of the sparks in his possession before he died," Akerman said, the beginnings of a smile touching his lips. "It means they've had Harvesters scouring Awad and the Thyatis Archipelago for the last twenty years for nothing. It means that I can't wait to get back to the Sepulcher with this knowledge."

"But your process has killed him?" Ayremac asked, sword in hand. The wizard made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Oh, yes. He's quite dead," Doctor Akerman said and the holy warrior nodded.

"Ah, our work is done, I guess," Ahlear said, pointing with the stem of his pipe at the horizon. "Which is good. I'd like to have a 'lope' around the countryside a bit - to experience the wildlife hereabouts. And it will do much good to have a few days retreat, in 'civilization', especially a village in the middle of nowhere with its rustic environs. It is a nice compromise between human life and wild life..." Morier saw the look in the man's eyes and he recognized it; before the eldritch warrior had left Byr for the adventurer's life he'd seen that far away look many times in Malcolm's eyes.

"I agree with the idea Ahlear, but unfortunately we don't have the luxury of a few days' retreat," Morier said. "We need to be away, immediately."

"Oh, yes, and the chicken without the head has spoken," the druid chuckled. "You are always on the move without pausing to consider what it is you're moving into." Morier's eyes flashed red and he set his jaw tight against itself.

"Speak as you will, Ahlear, but we're leaving. We agreed to a day-and-a-half of hunting down Alechtus, we've done so and now it's time to press forward," the albino said, gesturing with finality. "But please... I beg of you... go... go skip through the forest for as long as you'd like. Pick some flowers, frolic with the nymphs, frolic with the satyrs if that's your thing... Do whatever the hell you want to do... But we're leaving and there is not a fiber of my being that cares in the slightest whether you travel with us or not." Ahlear raised an eyebrow as he puffed on his pipe, regarding Morier cooly.

"Morier, possibly we can allow Ahlear the chance to frolic with the wildlife a bit while we enjoy a night in a nice inn. My coin, and I'll throw in a round for everyone?" Ayremac suggested diplomatically. Turning his back to Ahlear he leaned in and whispered to Morier, "Honestly, I think Huzair and Shamalin will need to restore their magical 'wells' and I think you and I can use a night of drinking to restore our... patience... What do you say? Head out at first light?"
Morier looked at the holy warrior then turned his gaze on Ahlear.

"At first light, then," he said, making it clear that he would not be swayed further. Ahlear nodded his agreement, but said nothing. Ayremac clapped the eldritch warrior on the shoulder and turned to regard Doctor Akerman.

"Now. Dr. Ackerman... I appreciate you are excited about this recent find... but I feel that some reparations for this town are in order," Ayremac said. "They will need to train new men, and fix their fine church. Do you have something to offer them?" Akerman's eyes shot up and he gave the two plates of his device an abrupt twist, causing the whole thing to snap shut into a single thick disk.

"Why would I offer them anything?" the wizard asked. "I believe we did them a service by slaying a murderer for them. What injury he caused to Colybury was of his own doing and had little - if anything - to do with me." He hastily slipped the bronze disk back into his satchel and then gestured at Alechtus' body. "Perhaps he has something of value on him."

"It's all mundane stuff accept for two rings, his chainmail shirt and the sword," Huzair said, disappointment plain in his voice. "Dibs on a ring!"

"Hold on a moment," Ahlear countered. "There are two rings, which might be of use to anyone... a magical chain shirt which I am not allowed to use and I imagine would be of little use to you, Huzair... And his sword. But does that not need to get back to the order the weapon came from?"

Ayremac stepped over and picked up the samsara sword. It was large and ungainly, but its saw-toothed edge and deep blood groove spoke of the damage it was intended to do to a foe. "If no one else claims it, I will take the sword and-"

"Speak our names and we will answer," the sword said aloud in a sudden chorus of voices. From out of the harmony of words, Ayremac thought he heard a familiar voice.

"Ixin?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes," the sword answered. And this time there was only one voice and it clearly was Ixin's.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #439a] Speaking With the Dead

Shamalin rushed to Ayremac's side, eyes wide. "Ixin?" she repeated, staring at the sword in his hands, but there was no response. Confused and disappointed, the Mercybringer's eyes looked from the sword to Ayremac. "It was Ixin, wasn't it?" He shrugged.

"It sounded like her," he admitted then looked more closely at the sword. "And I can still sense... a... presence. Maybe you need to hold the sword to talk to it." He handed the blade to the cleric and she nearly dropped it, it was so heavy.

"Speak our names and we will answer," the chorus of voices said in harmony. There were at least two other voices, both male, besides Ixin's.

"Ixin?" Shamalin tried, tentatively and the drakeling's voice answered.
"Yes," it said and Shamalin looked up quickly at the others before turning her attention to the blade in her hands.

"By what... magic... do you speak to us?" the cleric asked.

"By the magic of the samsara sword," Ixin answered. "It has the power to take souls... hold them... move them about... destroy them..."

"Who else is in there?" Huzair asked, but the sword didn't respond. The mage looked at Shamalin and made a prompting motion with his hands. "Ask her who else is in there," he told her and she did.

"We are three," Ixin answered. "Harcourt, Son of Froigrin, devoted of Azril, and Sir Dagemar of Guntisford, Inquisitor General of Calaam. All are held by the sword." There was something achingly melancholy about the way Ixin's voice answered that touched Shamalin's heart.

"The wielder of this sword is destroyed," she said, looking down at Alechtus. "What can be done to release you?"

"There are but two ways out of the sword: rebirth and consumption," the drakeling answered. "The sword can release a soul into a suitable body if the proper magics are wrought. Or the sword can devour the soul outright, sharing a bit of that power with its wielder. Such is the way of the samsara sword."

"What do you know of this?" Shamalin whispered urgently to Ayremac. "Can their souls be somehow trapped within this sword?" The holy warrior looked nervous, his lips set in a line as he pondered.

"It's possible," he said after a moment. "Wasn't that one of the abilities attributed to Sir Roland of Leer's sword?"

"You mean Blood-drinker?" Morier asked and Ayremac nodded. The Eldritch Warrior chuckled then, saying, "That sword was supposedly forged by the gods themselves at the dawn of time. It was an artifact of unprecedented power. This is just-"

"Patterned after that blade," Doctor Akerman finished for him. The mage had the loupe at the end of his staff against his eye as he looked at the sword. "I should have seen it before. The single-edged blade, saw-toothed... bone inlays complete with blood groove... It's got all the hallmarks of Brypur Vutha-isk's work. And it's clearly been anointed in godsblood."

"What?" Huzair asked and the Doctor looked up at him.

"It was enchanted by one of Memento Mori's founding members," he said. "So I suppose that a good claim could be made that it belongs to us. I've little doubt that Loremaster Starsoul would dearly like to have it in our archives."

--------------------

It's a little short this week, but the next one is lengthy and full of ultimatums, betrayals, and lasting ramifications.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

"It was enchanted by one of Memento Mori's founding members," he said. "So I suppose that a good claim could be made that it belongs to us. I've little doubt that Loremaster Starsoul would dearly like to have it in our archives."

--------------------

It's a little short this week, but the next one is lengthy and full of ultimatums, betrayals, and lasting ramifications.

Memento Mori - another Dead Gods reference, will these prove to be the movers behind the antagonists, or the movers Huzair needs to find a dead god? Questions, questions..... and Ixin has a way back or at least a fade away instead of the finality of death.

 

[Jon Potter]

Memento Mori - another Dead Gods reference, will these prove to be the movers behind the antagonists, or the movers Huzair needs to find a dead god? Questions, questions.....

Memento Mori was intended mainly as an information source. They could serve as more if the party wants, but so far the group hasn't gone in that direction. MM occupies a gray area morally speaking, and the PCs aren't big on trust.

Ixin has a way back or at least a fade away instead of the finality of death.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

Well, at least you didn't go Rat Bastard and turn the murdered party members into undead for the party to fight as they got close to Alechtus.