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<blockquote data-quote="Canaan" data-source="post: 3127088" data-attributes="member: 40239"><p><strong>Chapter 29: Kranston & Caladriel</strong></p><p></p><p>Many months have past since I had the opportunity to commit ink to paper. Small victories have been overshadowed by devastating tragedy. At every turn the choices we have made have not just been wrong, but have routinely pitched us from one insurmountable corner to another from which the only means of escape has been by the intervening hands of those seemingly immune to the powers that routinely assail us. </p><p></p><p>Helena, Balian, Kranston, the Autumn Queen, an enigmatic spirit from regions of madness known as the Far Realm calling herself Illyria. Without their intercession these words would not exist. We all would have passed on to our various rewards or sentences, never to return to a world consumed by strife and evil. A fate, I selfishly say, I would welcome. At least I would be at rest. Canaan, forgive me for my moment of weakness. Confession is good for the soul. I am but a man, weak, frail and prone to temptation, and I long for succor from my travails. It came to pass that I had been granted such respite, but it proved less than a moment under the gaze of eternity and my soul was wrenched from rest and into the body of Allustan, Mage of Diamond Lake in service of the Duke of Auros, who was himself slain by the devious machinery of the long dead Wind Dukes of A’aka. </p><p></p><p>That story, however, must wait. </p><p></p><p>I believe I last picked up this quill while aboard a ship headed for an audience with the wizard Kranston. His abode rested literally in the palm of an island named Demonclaw. The captain of the merchant vessel <em>Sweet Cheeks</em>, who’s name now escapes me, agreed only to take us to the island and that we would be on our own hence forth. </p><p></p><p>Thaddeus Grothe, the Sweet Cheeks’s first mate, wishing to leave behind his life on the sea, agreed to accompany us to Demonclaw. He convinced us that he was not only a seasoned combatant, but an expert archer, a specialty our group desperately needed. A gangly boy of no more than a score of years, his flesh was leathered by his long exposure to the sea, his eyes, almond in shape as well as hue, continuously flickered at distant invisible targets that only they could detect. His hands were deeply calloused from, presumably, both the thick hemp of the masts’ ropes and his use of the bow. His long sun-bleached hair was kept off his browned face by a solitary scarf from which flowed a thick, matted and blotchy tail. I wondered when last those locks had been properly sluiced. </p><p></p><p>In any event, we had a warrior with us, and I was pleased. </p><p></p><p>The morning of our final day on <em>Sweet Cheeks</em>, the captain called us to the deck. One of the shipmates pointed to the Eastern horizon. A mass of land hung above the water's surface on the distant edge of my vision. </p><p></p><p>“That’s it!” Called the captain from behind his wheel. “That’s Demonclaw! We shall reach it by midday!” </p><p></p><p>The crew readied a small row boat, he affectionately called the <em>Pink Pucker</em>, for us as the ship zeroed in on the island. I watched from the bow of the deck as the bizarre shape of the island drew into focus. I saw immediately how the island earned its eponym. The land mass sat atop a rocky, moss laden “wrist” from which sprouted a tree-strewn “palm” that grew long, thin fingers, twisting upwards and ending with sharp barren mountain peaks that, from a distance, appeared to be indigo claws. </p><p></p><p>We boarded the <em>Pink Pucker</em> and were roughly lowered into the calm waters. Thaddeous took control of the oars and steered us toward the island. Within an hour we found ourselves under the long shadows of the wide “fingers.” </p><p></p><p>“Is there any means of egress that you know of, Thaddeous?” Lilian asked the boy. </p><p></p><p>He shook his head “no.” “I have never been here.” He finally said. </p><p></p><p>“I can understand why.” Talon said, his stoicism cracking a bit under the ominous façade of the island. “This does seem a very inhospitable place.” Talon’s fae-touched eyes were fixed on the finger just above us. His mouth dropped agape at the sheer magnitude of it. </p><p></p><p>“Take us all around the arm.” I heard myself telling Thaddeous. “There must be stairs, a cave, a port… something.” </p><p></p><p>Just then, Shallahai, still in hawk-form screeched and dove into the water while transmogrifying into a dolphin and took off at fast pace toward Demonclaw. Dolphin-Shallahai returned minutes later, sticking its head above the surface of the water, shaking the <em>Pink Pucker</em> violently from side to side.</p><p></p><p>"What are you telling us Shallahai? Did you find an entrance, a port, stairs?" I asked.</p><p></p><p>Again, dolphin-Shallahai shook his head violently from side to side, indicating, I think, that he had not found a way in.</p><p></p><p>Dolphin-Shallahai swam into tempo with the little rowboat as we slowly rowed to the rock. The “wrist” was covered in thick sheets of brown and green algae that climbed up nearly thirty feet on all sides. </p><p></p><p>Suddenly, dolphin-Shallahai, leapt out of the water transforming into the an eagle once more. He swooped down and landed on my shoulder. Before any of us could react, he had climbed down my side and began tugging at the circle of rope that was fastened to my belt with his beak.</p><p></p><p>“Shallahai,” I said, understanding what he was trying to say. “That won’t be enough. Those outcroppings are too high up.” Shallahai shot me one of his wide eagle eyes in exasperation. I do believe that was the first time I ever witnessed an eagle sigh. </p><p></p><p>“Do we have more rope?” Lilian said. Neither she nor Talon had any. </p><p></p><p>“I’m sitting on some.” Thaddeous said, suddenly standing, which caused the <em>Pink Pucker</em> to teeter back and forth. We all held on to prevent ourselves from being pitched over. “Sorry. I forgot I was using this coil as a seat.” </p><p></p><p>It was well over a hundred feet. Adding my fifty, it was more than enough. </p><p></p><p>Shallahai took hold of the bound ropes with his talons and flew straight up to the rocky finger. After a few minutes we saw him, back in his unearthly tree-man visage looking down at us. A moment later, the long rope fell, stretching out just inches above the planks of the <em>Pink Pucker</em>. </p><p></p><p>Talon was the first to climb. With his impressive monk training, he did not climb as much as he levitated. With grace and effortlessness, he shot up, hand over hand, and within seconds traversed the whole of the rope and made it to the top. </p><p></p><p>Hu Li went next and nearly toppled the small dingy trying to grap the rope. Shallahai and Talon ended up dragging him through the water, screaming, while they pulled the length of rope until he was hoisted into the air and over the side of the stone precipice, sputtering the entire way.</p><p></p><p>Lilian was next to go. Encumbered as she was with her armor and blade, she could barely manage a few dozen feet before stopping and calling for aid. Shallahai and Talon responded by pulling the length of the rope until she was within arm’s reach and could be pulled onto the surface of the “finger” by Talon. </p><p></p><p>Then I went and, having woefully inadequate arms for such a feat, I, too, had to be pulled up to the top.</p><p></p><p>Thaddeous, like Talon, had no trouble making the climb. His bow, quiver, and short blade secured, he made it to the “finger” without any show of struggle. </p><p></p><p>Regrouped, we looked toward the center of the island. It was covered in gray heaps of long dead trees whose desiccated roots dug futilely into dusty ground. </p><p></p><p>“I suggest we gravitate toward the center.” Lilian said with command. “I believe that is the most logical place where this Kranston’s abode will be.” </p><p></p><p>We agreed and made off. </p><p></p><p>We maneuvered off the “finger” and onto the dry “palm.” For several hours we slowly made our way toward the center. The entire island appeared to be long dead. </p><p></p><p>Shallahai shuddered. “It is as if this would have been Wiltangle Forest’s fate had you not intervened.” </p><p></p><p>“Indeed.” I said, envisioning the same thing.</p><p></p><p>“Look! There!” Cried Talon, pointing at the horizon. </p><p></p><p>Up ahead, peaking over a crag, was a lumpy, but altogether constructed structure. As we grew closer, more of it came into view. </p><p></p><p>It was as if this building had been pressed out of some aperture of madness. Balian may have been an eccentric, but at least his tower, dank and in desperate need of maintenance aside, was at least clearly a tower. The deed holder of this monstrosity was most assuredly cavorting with spirits whose homes were just on the edge of sanity. </p><p></p><p>It was a manor of some kind. A staircase led down into a shallow crag toward what must be a door, but what spread out from that door was not clean, square, simple walls. It was as if there were walls, they were covered in bloated boils made all the more horrific by the countless sharp, thin jags that protruded from the blackened membranes. </p><p></p><p>Talon dared to touch one as we closed in on the doorway. </p><p></p><p>“Hm.” He said. “It feels just like wood.” </p><p></p><p>The door, a tall thin solid sheet of bronze covered with depictions of every kind of debauchery imaginable, creaked open as we approached. </p><p></p><p>Candle light flickered out onto the landing. A man, horribly gaunt and dressed in the heavy fineries of a head house servant approached us. He bore a mustache of two unusually long wisps of brown hair that undulated out from under his nose in a wavy line nearly two feet on either side. I wondered at the amount of wax required to keep those hairs so unnaturally erect. </p><p></p><p>“May I help you?” The man snarled, his voice pinched and condescending. </p><p></p><p>Lilian stepped forward. “I am Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan. We seek an audience with the Wizard Kranston. We have… questions for him.” </p><p></p><p>A single eyebrow cocked up on the man’s narrow face. He opened his mouth to speak when a second voice rained down from above. </p><p></p><p>“Guests?” It cried in an effeminate, lispy shrill. “We have guests?”</p><p></p><p>We all craned out necks upward to see the source of the voice. I found nothing.</p><p></p><p>“We have not had guests here in ages!” It continued. “Servant!” We heard two quick claps. “Make yourself useful! Prepare our best tea and dust off some crumpets! We have entertaining to do!” </p><p></p><p>The servant beckoned for us to follow him. He turned to our left and trotted off toward a stone archway. </p><p></p><p>Every inch of the foyer was covered with some semblance of gaudy art and every piece seemed dedicated to one subject; infernal creatures copulating. </p><p></p><p>After the third for fourth attempt, I ceased in averting my eyes from the depictions, for no matter where my eyes looked away to, another sculpture, painting, mosaic or fresco more licentious than the last, gazed back at me. </p><p></p><p>A moment before we reached the archway a door creaked open above. We turned to it to spot a wide staircase down a short corridor which lead up to the door. At the threshold stood a silhouette. </p><p></p><p>“Servant!” The silhouette called. “Send them this way! This way! They don’t need to see the kitchen for Azzagrat’s sake!” </p><p></p><p>The servant rolled his eyes and beckoned for us to move down to the staircase. Lilian was the first to comply and we all followed suit. </p><p></p><p>As I climbed the stairs the silhouette all but leaped into a pool of candle light revealing an equally gaunt man as the servant, but whose face was oddly handsome and beautiful at the same time. The hair crowned a healthily tanned face in thin coils that rapped about themselves forming an inverted cone adding nearly a foot and a half to the figure’s height at its point. Bronze and gold bracelets dangled at the boney wrist of the man’s arm right arm. His left was behind his back. He was dressed in appropriately tailored royal attire, but the colors were just shy of magenta and lilac. Given the baroque nature of the rest of the estate, he fit right in.</p><p></p><p>“I am Kranston!” He said with a wide, excited grin. “Welcome to my home!” He added with a flourish, revealing his other arm as he twirled. I gasped at the sight of it. Unlike the first arm I saw, which was all but void of musculature, the second was burly, chiseled and covered in scales so green they were almost black. The fingers ended with sharp claws painted fiery red. Had he grafted a devil’s arm to his body? What manner of creature was this Kranston?</p><p></p><p>After we dispensed with the appropriate pleasantries, we were led to the dining area and drank bitter tea and ate stale scones under light provided by a chandelier of twisting brass rods that snaked out from an opaque mass with no rhyme or reason from an opaque darkened mass some twenty feet above us. At the end of each rod flickered a small white candle. </p><p></p><p>“So!” Kranston said at last. “What brings a priest of Canaan, a Champion of Canaan, a... thing of the Green, a monk and a strapping young lad to my humble abode?” </p><p></p><p>Lilian immediately took control. </p><p></p><p>“We understand you summoned a Succubus.” She said. Kranston gasped. </p><p></p><p>“Well, I never! How dare you come here and accuse me of such…”</p><p></p><p>“Helena told us.” Lilian continued calmly but firmly. “There is no use denying it.”</p><p></p><p>Kranston grew silent. After a moment he nodded. </p><p></p><p>“Very well. I admit it. But do not fret. She is entirely under my control.” </p><p></p><p>“If that is the case.” I said. “Then you are in a good deal of trouble.” </p><p></p><p>“Oh, posh!” Kranston said with a dismissive wave of his demonic arm. “I only summoned her for some information. That is all.” </p><p></p><p>“Information on Kharas'Voorhies?” Lilian asked. </p><p></p><p>“Yes.” The wizard sighed. “I just wanted to learn some of his secrets. That is all. It was for research only. Quite innocent, really.” </p><p></p><p>“Why did you command Caladriel to release Kharas'Vorhies’s servant , Veshra?” I asked annoyed by the man’s irresponsibility. </p><p></p><p>“As I said! To learn the old coot’s secrets! I told her to release the little imp and bring her back here.”</p><p></p><p>“And did she?” </p><p></p><p>Kranston’s eyes focused on the bejeweled goblet in front of him. </p><p></p><p>“I am still awaiting her return.” He mumbled.</p><p></p><p>“Veshra is on the loose.” Lilian said, swallowing a growing anger. “Caladriel disobeyed you. She has murdered many innocents. She almost destroyed my home at Goldfire Glen. You have much to answer to, warlock!”</p><p></p><p>Kranston took in a quick deep breath, offended. Clutching his ruby necklace with his frail hand he corrected Lilian in a scathing tone. "Well I never! Young lady, I'll have you know that I am no warlock. If I were, you'd have been dead where you stand long before I introduced myself. Watch your tongue and mind your manners!" He paused to compose himself after his outburst. "I am an Acolyte of the Skin. A wizard who experiments with creatures of the lower planes to learning the secrets to their powers. NOT a warlock."</p><p></p><p>"Don't change the subject, wizard!" I chastised him. Explain yourself. Veshra is on the loose and nearly destroyed Lilian's home!" I continued pointing an accusing finger at him.</p><p></p><p>"But that’s not possible! She is under my control! She cannot!” His voice pitched several octaves above comfortable. </p><p></p><p>“But she did.” Talon corrected. “Where is this succubus?”</p><p></p><p>“I DON’T KNOW!” Kranston hollered, pounding the table. </p><p></p><p>His servant entered the hall. </p><p></p><p>”Is there a problem, master?” The servant asked. </p><p></p><p>“Yes!” Kranston spat. “Fetch Caladriel’s contract and meet me in the summoning chamber!” </p><p></p><p>The servant stiffly turned on his heels and trotted off. With great aplomb and melodramatics, Kranston led us down to his summoning chamber. </p><p></p><p>Like the rest of the manor, the walls were covered in tasteless art pieces. One of the walls, however, was conspicuously covered by a deep burgundy curtain. I did not wish to know what lay beyond, what even this bizarre personality deemed unsuitable for display. </p><p></p><p>The servant was waiting for us. As Kranston approached his servant presented him with a rolled up scroll. </p><p></p><p>Shallahai suddenly stopped and did something I do not recall him ever doing before, nor since. </p><p></p><p>He gasped. </p><p></p><p>His eyes darted from the scroll in Kranston’s hand over to Lilian.</p><p></p><p>“Helena told us that this succubus goes by many names.” His eyes flashed to black and bore into Kranston. The wizard recoiled. “What is the name on the contract?” Shallahai demanded with a hiss.</p><p></p><p>Kranston’s hands shook as he unraveled the scroll. He turned it around to reveal the two signatures and splotch of blood at the bottom. The first was his. The second was the name “Caladriel.” </p><p></p><p>“You incompetent fool!” Shallahai roared. “You arrogant amateur! You have been duped!” </p><p></p><p>The druid closed in on the cowering wizard. I moved to intervene but was stopped by Kranston’s voice. It was suddenly commanding and firm. I turned to him and he was standing straight, matching Shallahai’s posture.</p><p></p><p>“Wait!” He demanded. “I shall make this right! Caladriel!” </p><p></p><p>He called out. </p><p></p><p>“Come to me! Now!” His hands flourished upwards. </p><p></p><p>There was a hot rush of wind and a flash of light in one corner of the chamber. </p><p></p><p>The light faded and in its place stood the very succubus who had taunting us for so long. She gasped and covered herself demurely when she saw us. Her whole demeanor was void of the usual arrogance she normally reserved for our meetings. </p><p></p><p>An act, clearly, to throw off the wizard. </p><p></p><p>“Master! Why have you summoned me here?” She cooed. </p><p></p><p>“You have been a naughty girl.” Kranston said, his voice soft, but full of authority. </p><p></p><p>“Me?” Caladriel answered with a dainty flutter of her lashes.</p><p></p><p>“Where is Veshra?” Kranston asked.</p><p></p><p>“I’m getting to it.” She answered. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t lie to me! I know you released her.” </p><p></p><p>“For you, yes.” </p><p></p><p>“Then where is she?”</p><p></p><p>“She escaped. She wrenched free from me. She didn’t wish to return with me. She…”</p><p></p><p>“Lies!” Kranston roared.</p><p></p><p>“No, Master, I swear!” She pointed to Lilian. “It is she who is full of lies! That one! The hypocrite! The so-called Champion! She has been most mean to me! Most cruel! She does not understand!” </p><p></p><p>The succubus morphed into the likeness of Lilian, though still naked. And though her wings suddenly vanished and her horns receded, her tail remained. I turned away as she began to pleasure herself with her demonic tail.</p><p></p><p>"Finally." Hu Li said with a wide satisfied grin, as his eyes locked on the infernal Lilian's nethers. He looked like he was going to faint from the sheer pleasure of the experience.</p><p></p><p>“Enough!” Roared Shallahai. “You escaped last time, demon! By <em>Yuindr’s</em> blade, it shall not happen again!” </p><p></p><p>The familiar succubus instantly reasserted herself. Lilian’s visage faded away as the creature hissed and flew up to the ceiling. </p><p></p><p>“Try stabbing me with that thing now!” She roared down. </p><p></p><p>I suddenly remembered our archer. I turned to find him huddling with fear up against one of the corners of the room. I ran up to him as behind me I heard Kranston shout. “You’re not going anywhere!” </p><p></p><p>I heard the wizard intone a few archaic words and instantly knew he had prevented her quick escape by yoking her with a <em>dimensional anchor</em>. </p><p></p><p>Lilian called out to Canaan to infuse her blade with his divine power. </p><p></p><p>I hurried up to Thaddeous. “Do not fear.” I said to him. “Canaan is with us. We shall prevail.” </p><p></p><p>I then prayed to Canaan and touched the boy’s quiver, transforming all of his arrows into <em>magic weapons</em>. “Strike true.” I said to him. “They will now pierce her demonic flesh. Have faith.”</p><p></p><p>The boy took hold of his bow and swiftly shot two arrows at the flying succubus. One hit home and sunk deep. She hissed and howled, searching for the offender. </p><p></p><p>Having spotted him, she suddenly dove. I stood between her and the boy, readying my mace. </p><p></p><p>She slashed out with her claws, but we both evaded her blows. She twisted back up to the roof, cackling. </p><p></p><p>Kranston bounded under her. He held up his demonic arm and called out. </p><p></p><p>“Be gone from this plane, demon! I am through with you!” </p><p></p><p>The cackling instantly stopped. A chilling wind engulfed the room. A gray whirlwind appeared behind the succubus. She screamed with agony and rage, but to no avail. Barely a breath passed before she was sucked into the vortex, <em>banished</em>. It immediately collapsed and vanished. </p><p></p><p>A palpable sigh fell over the chamber.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Canaan, post: 3127088, member: 40239"] [b]Chapter 29: Kranston & Caladriel[/b] Many months have past since I had the opportunity to commit ink to paper. Small victories have been overshadowed by devastating tragedy. At every turn the choices we have made have not just been wrong, but have routinely pitched us from one insurmountable corner to another from which the only means of escape has been by the intervening hands of those seemingly immune to the powers that routinely assail us. Helena, Balian, Kranston, the Autumn Queen, an enigmatic spirit from regions of madness known as the Far Realm calling herself Illyria. Without their intercession these words would not exist. We all would have passed on to our various rewards or sentences, never to return to a world consumed by strife and evil. A fate, I selfishly say, I would welcome. At least I would be at rest. Canaan, forgive me for my moment of weakness. Confession is good for the soul. I am but a man, weak, frail and prone to temptation, and I long for succor from my travails. It came to pass that I had been granted such respite, but it proved less than a moment under the gaze of eternity and my soul was wrenched from rest and into the body of Allustan, Mage of Diamond Lake in service of the Duke of Auros, who was himself slain by the devious machinery of the long dead Wind Dukes of A’aka. That story, however, must wait. I believe I last picked up this quill while aboard a ship headed for an audience with the wizard Kranston. His abode rested literally in the palm of an island named Demonclaw. The captain of the merchant vessel [I]Sweet Cheeks[/I], who’s name now escapes me, agreed only to take us to the island and that we would be on our own hence forth. Thaddeus Grothe, the Sweet Cheeks’s first mate, wishing to leave behind his life on the sea, agreed to accompany us to Demonclaw. He convinced us that he was not only a seasoned combatant, but an expert archer, a specialty our group desperately needed. A gangly boy of no more than a score of years, his flesh was leathered by his long exposure to the sea, his eyes, almond in shape as well as hue, continuously flickered at distant invisible targets that only they could detect. His hands were deeply calloused from, presumably, both the thick hemp of the masts’ ropes and his use of the bow. His long sun-bleached hair was kept off his browned face by a solitary scarf from which flowed a thick, matted and blotchy tail. I wondered when last those locks had been properly sluiced. In any event, we had a warrior with us, and I was pleased. The morning of our final day on [I]Sweet Cheeks[/I], the captain called us to the deck. One of the shipmates pointed to the Eastern horizon. A mass of land hung above the water's surface on the distant edge of my vision. “That’s it!” Called the captain from behind his wheel. “That’s Demonclaw! We shall reach it by midday!” The crew readied a small row boat, he affectionately called the [I]Pink Pucker[/I], for us as the ship zeroed in on the island. I watched from the bow of the deck as the bizarre shape of the island drew into focus. I saw immediately how the island earned its eponym. The land mass sat atop a rocky, moss laden “wrist” from which sprouted a tree-strewn “palm” that grew long, thin fingers, twisting upwards and ending with sharp barren mountain peaks that, from a distance, appeared to be indigo claws. We boarded the [I]Pink Pucker[/I] and were roughly lowered into the calm waters. Thaddeous took control of the oars and steered us toward the island. Within an hour we found ourselves under the long shadows of the wide “fingers.” “Is there any means of egress that you know of, Thaddeous?” Lilian asked the boy. He shook his head “no.” “I have never been here.” He finally said. “I can understand why.” Talon said, his stoicism cracking a bit under the ominous façade of the island. “This does seem a very inhospitable place.” Talon’s fae-touched eyes were fixed on the finger just above us. His mouth dropped agape at the sheer magnitude of it. “Take us all around the arm.” I heard myself telling Thaddeous. “There must be stairs, a cave, a port… something.” Just then, Shallahai, still in hawk-form screeched and dove into the water while transmogrifying into a dolphin and took off at fast pace toward Demonclaw. Dolphin-Shallahai returned minutes later, sticking its head above the surface of the water, shaking the [I]Pink Pucker[/I] violently from side to side. "What are you telling us Shallahai? Did you find an entrance, a port, stairs?" I asked. Again, dolphin-Shallahai shook his head violently from side to side, indicating, I think, that he had not found a way in. Dolphin-Shallahai swam into tempo with the little rowboat as we slowly rowed to the rock. The “wrist” was covered in thick sheets of brown and green algae that climbed up nearly thirty feet on all sides. Suddenly, dolphin-Shallahai, leapt out of the water transforming into the an eagle once more. He swooped down and landed on my shoulder. Before any of us could react, he had climbed down my side and began tugging at the circle of rope that was fastened to my belt with his beak. “Shallahai,” I said, understanding what he was trying to say. “That won’t be enough. Those outcroppings are too high up.” Shallahai shot me one of his wide eagle eyes in exasperation. I do believe that was the first time I ever witnessed an eagle sigh. “Do we have more rope?” Lilian said. Neither she nor Talon had any. “I’m sitting on some.” Thaddeous said, suddenly standing, which caused the [I]Pink Pucker[/I] to teeter back and forth. We all held on to prevent ourselves from being pitched over. “Sorry. I forgot I was using this coil as a seat.” It was well over a hundred feet. Adding my fifty, it was more than enough. Shallahai took hold of the bound ropes with his talons and flew straight up to the rocky finger. After a few minutes we saw him, back in his unearthly tree-man visage looking down at us. A moment later, the long rope fell, stretching out just inches above the planks of the [I]Pink Pucker[/I]. Talon was the first to climb. With his impressive monk training, he did not climb as much as he levitated. With grace and effortlessness, he shot up, hand over hand, and within seconds traversed the whole of the rope and made it to the top. Hu Li went next and nearly toppled the small dingy trying to grap the rope. Shallahai and Talon ended up dragging him through the water, screaming, while they pulled the length of rope until he was hoisted into the air and over the side of the stone precipice, sputtering the entire way. Lilian was next to go. Encumbered as she was with her armor and blade, she could barely manage a few dozen feet before stopping and calling for aid. Shallahai and Talon responded by pulling the length of the rope until she was within arm’s reach and could be pulled onto the surface of the “finger” by Talon. Then I went and, having woefully inadequate arms for such a feat, I, too, had to be pulled up to the top. Thaddeous, like Talon, had no trouble making the climb. His bow, quiver, and short blade secured, he made it to the “finger” without any show of struggle. Regrouped, we looked toward the center of the island. It was covered in gray heaps of long dead trees whose desiccated roots dug futilely into dusty ground. “I suggest we gravitate toward the center.” Lilian said with command. “I believe that is the most logical place where this Kranston’s abode will be.” We agreed and made off. We maneuvered off the “finger” and onto the dry “palm.” For several hours we slowly made our way toward the center. The entire island appeared to be long dead. Shallahai shuddered. “It is as if this would have been Wiltangle Forest’s fate had you not intervened.” “Indeed.” I said, envisioning the same thing. “Look! There!” Cried Talon, pointing at the horizon. Up ahead, peaking over a crag, was a lumpy, but altogether constructed structure. As we grew closer, more of it came into view. It was as if this building had been pressed out of some aperture of madness. Balian may have been an eccentric, but at least his tower, dank and in desperate need of maintenance aside, was at least clearly a tower. The deed holder of this monstrosity was most assuredly cavorting with spirits whose homes were just on the edge of sanity. It was a manor of some kind. A staircase led down into a shallow crag toward what must be a door, but what spread out from that door was not clean, square, simple walls. It was as if there were walls, they were covered in bloated boils made all the more horrific by the countless sharp, thin jags that protruded from the blackened membranes. Talon dared to touch one as we closed in on the doorway. “Hm.” He said. “It feels just like wood.” The door, a tall thin solid sheet of bronze covered with depictions of every kind of debauchery imaginable, creaked open as we approached. Candle light flickered out onto the landing. A man, horribly gaunt and dressed in the heavy fineries of a head house servant approached us. He bore a mustache of two unusually long wisps of brown hair that undulated out from under his nose in a wavy line nearly two feet on either side. I wondered at the amount of wax required to keep those hairs so unnaturally erect. “May I help you?” The man snarled, his voice pinched and condescending. Lilian stepped forward. “I am Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan. We seek an audience with the Wizard Kranston. We have… questions for him.” A single eyebrow cocked up on the man’s narrow face. He opened his mouth to speak when a second voice rained down from above. “Guests?” It cried in an effeminate, lispy shrill. “We have guests?” We all craned out necks upward to see the source of the voice. I found nothing. “We have not had guests here in ages!” It continued. “Servant!” We heard two quick claps. “Make yourself useful! Prepare our best tea and dust off some crumpets! We have entertaining to do!” The servant beckoned for us to follow him. He turned to our left and trotted off toward a stone archway. Every inch of the foyer was covered with some semblance of gaudy art and every piece seemed dedicated to one subject; infernal creatures copulating. After the third for fourth attempt, I ceased in averting my eyes from the depictions, for no matter where my eyes looked away to, another sculpture, painting, mosaic or fresco more licentious than the last, gazed back at me. A moment before we reached the archway a door creaked open above. We turned to it to spot a wide staircase down a short corridor which lead up to the door. At the threshold stood a silhouette. “Servant!” The silhouette called. “Send them this way! This way! They don’t need to see the kitchen for Azzagrat’s sake!” The servant rolled his eyes and beckoned for us to move down to the staircase. Lilian was the first to comply and we all followed suit. As I climbed the stairs the silhouette all but leaped into a pool of candle light revealing an equally gaunt man as the servant, but whose face was oddly handsome and beautiful at the same time. The hair crowned a healthily tanned face in thin coils that rapped about themselves forming an inverted cone adding nearly a foot and a half to the figure’s height at its point. Bronze and gold bracelets dangled at the boney wrist of the man’s arm right arm. His left was behind his back. He was dressed in appropriately tailored royal attire, but the colors were just shy of magenta and lilac. Given the baroque nature of the rest of the estate, he fit right in. “I am Kranston!” He said with a wide, excited grin. “Welcome to my home!” He added with a flourish, revealing his other arm as he twirled. I gasped at the sight of it. Unlike the first arm I saw, which was all but void of musculature, the second was burly, chiseled and covered in scales so green they were almost black. The fingers ended with sharp claws painted fiery red. Had he grafted a devil’s arm to his body? What manner of creature was this Kranston? After we dispensed with the appropriate pleasantries, we were led to the dining area and drank bitter tea and ate stale scones under light provided by a chandelier of twisting brass rods that snaked out from an opaque mass with no rhyme or reason from an opaque darkened mass some twenty feet above us. At the end of each rod flickered a small white candle. “So!” Kranston said at last. “What brings a priest of Canaan, a Champion of Canaan, a... thing of the Green, a monk and a strapping young lad to my humble abode?” Lilian immediately took control. “We understand you summoned a Succubus.” She said. Kranston gasped. “Well, I never! How dare you come here and accuse me of such…” “Helena told us.” Lilian continued calmly but firmly. “There is no use denying it.” Kranston grew silent. After a moment he nodded. “Very well. I admit it. But do not fret. She is entirely under my control.” “If that is the case.” I said. “Then you are in a good deal of trouble.” “Oh, posh!” Kranston said with a dismissive wave of his demonic arm. “I only summoned her for some information. That is all.” “Information on Kharas'Voorhies?” Lilian asked. “Yes.” The wizard sighed. “I just wanted to learn some of his secrets. That is all. It was for research only. Quite innocent, really.” “Why did you command Caladriel to release Kharas'Vorhies’s servant , Veshra?” I asked annoyed by the man’s irresponsibility. “As I said! To learn the old coot’s secrets! I told her to release the little imp and bring her back here.” “And did she?” Kranston’s eyes focused on the bejeweled goblet in front of him. “I am still awaiting her return.” He mumbled. “Veshra is on the loose.” Lilian said, swallowing a growing anger. “Caladriel disobeyed you. She has murdered many innocents. She almost destroyed my home at Goldfire Glen. You have much to answer to, warlock!” Kranston took in a quick deep breath, offended. Clutching his ruby necklace with his frail hand he corrected Lilian in a scathing tone. "Well I never! Young lady, I'll have you know that I am no warlock. If I were, you'd have been dead where you stand long before I introduced myself. Watch your tongue and mind your manners!" He paused to compose himself after his outburst. "I am an Acolyte of the Skin. A wizard who experiments with creatures of the lower planes to learning the secrets to their powers. NOT a warlock." "Don't change the subject, wizard!" I chastised him. Explain yourself. Veshra is on the loose and nearly destroyed Lilian's home!" I continued pointing an accusing finger at him. "But that’s not possible! She is under my control! She cannot!” His voice pitched several octaves above comfortable. “But she did.” Talon corrected. “Where is this succubus?” “I DON’T KNOW!” Kranston hollered, pounding the table. His servant entered the hall. ”Is there a problem, master?” The servant asked. “Yes!” Kranston spat. “Fetch Caladriel’s contract and meet me in the summoning chamber!” The servant stiffly turned on his heels and trotted off. With great aplomb and melodramatics, Kranston led us down to his summoning chamber. Like the rest of the manor, the walls were covered in tasteless art pieces. One of the walls, however, was conspicuously covered by a deep burgundy curtain. I did not wish to know what lay beyond, what even this bizarre personality deemed unsuitable for display. The servant was waiting for us. As Kranston approached his servant presented him with a rolled up scroll. Shallahai suddenly stopped and did something I do not recall him ever doing before, nor since. He gasped. His eyes darted from the scroll in Kranston’s hand over to Lilian. “Helena told us that this succubus goes by many names.” His eyes flashed to black and bore into Kranston. The wizard recoiled. “What is the name on the contract?” Shallahai demanded with a hiss. Kranston’s hands shook as he unraveled the scroll. He turned it around to reveal the two signatures and splotch of blood at the bottom. The first was his. The second was the name “Caladriel.” “You incompetent fool!” Shallahai roared. “You arrogant amateur! You have been duped!” The druid closed in on the cowering wizard. I moved to intervene but was stopped by Kranston’s voice. It was suddenly commanding and firm. I turned to him and he was standing straight, matching Shallahai’s posture. “Wait!” He demanded. “I shall make this right! Caladriel!” He called out. “Come to me! Now!” His hands flourished upwards. There was a hot rush of wind and a flash of light in one corner of the chamber. The light faded and in its place stood the very succubus who had taunting us for so long. She gasped and covered herself demurely when she saw us. Her whole demeanor was void of the usual arrogance she normally reserved for our meetings. An act, clearly, to throw off the wizard. “Master! Why have you summoned me here?” She cooed. “You have been a naughty girl.” Kranston said, his voice soft, but full of authority. “Me?” Caladriel answered with a dainty flutter of her lashes. “Where is Veshra?” Kranston asked. “I’m getting to it.” She answered. “Don’t lie to me! I know you released her.” “For you, yes.” “Then where is she?” “She escaped. She wrenched free from me. She didn’t wish to return with me. She…” “Lies!” Kranston roared. “No, Master, I swear!” She pointed to Lilian. “It is she who is full of lies! That one! The hypocrite! The so-called Champion! She has been most mean to me! Most cruel! She does not understand!” The succubus morphed into the likeness of Lilian, though still naked. And though her wings suddenly vanished and her horns receded, her tail remained. I turned away as she began to pleasure herself with her demonic tail. "Finally." Hu Li said with a wide satisfied grin, as his eyes locked on the infernal Lilian's nethers. He looked like he was going to faint from the sheer pleasure of the experience. “Enough!” Roared Shallahai. “You escaped last time, demon! By [I]Yuindr’s[/I] blade, it shall not happen again!” The familiar succubus instantly reasserted herself. Lilian’s visage faded away as the creature hissed and flew up to the ceiling. “Try stabbing me with that thing now!” She roared down. I suddenly remembered our archer. I turned to find him huddling with fear up against one of the corners of the room. I ran up to him as behind me I heard Kranston shout. “You’re not going anywhere!” I heard the wizard intone a few archaic words and instantly knew he had prevented her quick escape by yoking her with a [I]dimensional anchor[/I]. Lilian called out to Canaan to infuse her blade with his divine power. I hurried up to Thaddeous. “Do not fear.” I said to him. “Canaan is with us. We shall prevail.” I then prayed to Canaan and touched the boy’s quiver, transforming all of his arrows into [I]magic weapons[/I]. “Strike true.” I said to him. “They will now pierce her demonic flesh. Have faith.” The boy took hold of his bow and swiftly shot two arrows at the flying succubus. One hit home and sunk deep. She hissed and howled, searching for the offender. Having spotted him, she suddenly dove. I stood between her and the boy, readying my mace. She slashed out with her claws, but we both evaded her blows. She twisted back up to the roof, cackling. Kranston bounded under her. He held up his demonic arm and called out. “Be gone from this plane, demon! I am through with you!” The cackling instantly stopped. A chilling wind engulfed the room. A gray whirlwind appeared behind the succubus. She screamed with agony and rage, but to no avail. Barely a breath passed before she was sucked into the vortex, [I]banished[/I]. It immediately collapsed and vanished. A palpable sigh fell over the chamber. [/QUOTE]
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