The group froze for a moment, listening as the sound echoed through the chamber for brief moments. Then as quickly as they had frozen, they were moving again. Delorian quickly pulled a shadow from the wall stepped through, cloaking himself with invisibility. Marcus ran over to one wall and started walking up it, the magical slippers carrying him easily up the wall. Amador strode across the room, pulling a fresh arrow from his quiver. Plickit found a corner and crouched down, looking up at the nearest door. Mytrym leapt from the floor, his cloak flipping out into large wings that carried him easily up to the first door.
Marcus continued up past the first door to the second door up. He slid one of his rods in place behind the latch and triggered the button on the end of the rod. When he moved his hand back, the rod remained perfectly still, immovable. Marcus grinned and moved quickly toward the highest door and repeated the process.
The others were still watching the other doors, or watching Marcus work. Naria moved up next to Will and he motioned for her to look at the upper doors. She cast a quick spell then shook her head. Neither door radiated magic. Delorian used the second pair of magic slippers and climbed up between the highest two doors. He watched as Marcus blocked them both with the magic rods.
From somewhere on the third floor, a deep resonating voice cried out in an otherworldly tone, “Solom! Niztaka du minchak! Rerfezitakil nolin zorinti zu!” The companions all looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what the creature was saying, or where exactly it was.
Their wondering was cut short when three massive wolves appeared within the now tight confines of the tower. Plickit, still able to see invisible, could see past them to a drow mage that had appeared with him. Mytrym spun around and saw the mage as well. Everyone else could not see the invisible drow male. They were more worried about the massive wolves before them anyways. The wolves had dark fur, and dark circles under their bloodshot eyes. Behind their eyes, faint flames could sometimes be seen.
Will frowned at the sight of the fiendish dire wolves. This was most likely someone’s idea of a distraction. He just hoped that Mytrym and Plickit could see whoever was responsible for their appearance.
Though two of the wolves were right in front of him, Plickit knew that he had to take care of the mage before he began lobbing powerful spells around. When he threw his first wedge both wolves pivoted their heads toward him, growling. As the second wedge was released, both wolves took advantage of the thri-kreen’s ackward stance. The first wolf bit Plickit hard in the leg, then wrenched back, sending the insect sprawling to the ground. The other wolf bit out a moment later, tearing at one of his arms.
Ignoring the pain and awkward position, Plickit kept throwing the wedges. Wedge after wedge slammed into the wizard, but obviously they were not having as much effect as he would like. He knew the wizard was probably under a stoneskin spell. It would not last long under the assault of his wedges.
Seeing Plickit go down, Will stepped to one side, muttered a few arcane symbols and sent a massive bolt of lightning arcing through a pair of the wolves. Having seen that Plickit was obviously throwing at something invisible, he made sure the bolt passed through that spot as well. The cry of pain that was let out when the bolt ripped through was quite satisfying to the evoker.
Amador spun and let his hand go from his bow string. He pointed to the back of the large chamber and muttered a few words. Holy energy ripped out of a small rift in the wall, and slammed through the wolves and the wizard they were guarding.
One of the wolves fell to the side, then disappeared, back to whatever plane it had been summoned from. One of the ones remaining lashed out at Amador. As he launched itself forward blackish green energy poured from its mouth. Its teeth sank deep into Amador’s thigh. He let out a cry, dropped his bow and began pushing at the massive monster’s head, to try and get its teeth out of his thigh. The last remaining wolf pushed in beside the first and snapped out at Amador. He threw up an arm, managing to thump it in the nose before it was able to bite him.
Mytrym dropped down, his wings folding away. He started cutting at the wolves before his feet even touched the floor. His blade shone with holy energy as it arced forward and cut deep into one of the two wolves’ flank. He yanked the blade free and stabbed it deep within the wound, trying to pull the thing away from Amador.
In the doorway, Naria pulled a wand out that Will had given her. She thrust it forward and a pair of globes zipped forth, each spiraling toward one of the wolves. One splashed harmless against the infernal hide of the beast it hit, while the other scorched its way into the side of one wolf’s muzzle, causing it to yalp and pull away.
Regaining his feet, Plickit threw his returning chatka, sending it slamming into one wolf. As the chatka disappeared and reappeared in his hand, the wolf fell to one side and disappeared back to its home plane.
Lifting his crossbow to his shoulder, Will marveled that he had even remembered to load it. But he had, and he was finally going to use it. The string snapped forward as it was released. The bolt slammed through the creatures flank and it too slowly faded back to its home plane.
Mytrym stepped past the disappearing wolves and helped steady Amador. The priest already had a potion out. His hand was shaking as he brought it to his lips and downed it quickly.
Plickit also pulled a potion from his pack and downed it. The insect warrior was obviously very hurt. He seemed to be having trouble standing well, and Amador quickly jogged over and cast a quick cure spell, covering one of the nasty bites with glowing healing energy.
Not waiting for them to finish, Will began motioning the entire group toward the 2nd level door, the lowest of the doors they had not already been through.
Mytrym said a quick prayer, and blessed the group.
Marcus moved down to the door and quickly scanned it. When he shook his head, Mytrym flew up, shoved the door open and landed just within. Quick muttered words from one side of him, caused Mytrym to spin and lift his shield. It made little difference when a pair of rays appeared from one doorway, burning through his shield and armor, scorching him beneath. Whoever cast the spell was invisible, like the last wizard, and quickly pulled back within the room behind the door and slammed the door behind him.
Will, Marcus, and Plickit drew into the hallway quickly. The others stayed in the tower room, guarding the other doors, making sure nothing was about to try and sneak in behind them. As the four in the hall gathered, Will nodded to Mytrym. The paladin kicked open the door, triggering some sort of runic marking hidden on the doorframe. Flames ripped out and burned into the paladin. He softly thanked his celestial heritage, knowing that anyone else would have been far more hurt than him.
As the door slammed open, Plickit could see that another invisible mage was standing in the back of the room. He was ready with a spell yet again. This time five small globes of energy spiraled out toward Mytrym. At the last moment his brooch of shielding flashed, and sucked the magic missiles in, dissipating them harmlessly.
As Mytrym raced forward, Plickit began throwing his weapons. They streaked forward, slamming into the wizard, but his enchantments held, and turned away much of the chatka’s damage.
Mytrym had seen roughly where the missiles had come from, so he swung at that location. It was to no avail though, the blade passed harmlessly through nothing but air.
Plickit could see that the drow male had ducked to one side and was once again casting. When the spell finished, he disappeared completely. The thri-kreen did not think there was an invisibility spell that could counter the spell that allowed him to see them, so he glanced around before moving in to get his chatkas. He was surprised to see that the wizard had not actually fled, but was instead at the end of the hallway that they now stood in. Plickit through up an arm and pointed, “Over there-tck!” The thri-kreen stepped toward the mage, chatka after chatka once again sailing toward the wizard. Still the man stood, though the last chatka seemed to finally bite as deep as it should and sent the man sprawling to oneside, crying out in pain. The stoneskin had finally failed.
Knowing that there was little he could do in these tight confines against an invisible opponent, Will ducked into the small bed chamber the wizard had been in. He smirked as he saw the spellbook laying open on the desk in front of him. As he snatched it up, flames ripped forth and bathed over him. Will had spent far too much time studying fire for such a simple spell to be very effective against him. The elemental savant closed the spellbook and dropped it into his magical backpack.
Also able to see the wizard thanks to the shade prince’s spells, Marcus advanced on the wizard, lashing out twice with his rapier. The blade cut deep twice, and the wizard began muttering arcane words as Mytrym stepped up and stabbed out at where he thought the wizard was. Marcus saw the paladin’s large sword stab just beneath one of the wizard’s upraised arms.
The spell complete, the wizard disappeared yet again. Marcus and Plickit both looked all around, including out into the tower room, but to no avail. The drow had gotten away.
The four went to the next two rooms, finding another empty bed chamber that smelled of brimstone and wolf fur, and assumed that the book laying open was the property of the dead wizard laying at the bottom of the tower.
Will told the others to step back and picked that book up as well. The firetrap on it was a little more powerful and his hands burned a little when it went off, but it was nothing the fire wizard could not handle. He dropped the spellbook into his backpack as well.
There was one door left on that level of the tower, so the four moved toward it. Outside in the tower room, Delorian, Amador and Naria watched the exit of the tower and the upper two doors. They had heard the fighting inside, but after the fight the others had looked out to motion that things were all right.
Marcus searched the outside of the last door and nodded to the other that it was safe. When Mytrym swung the door open, he found himself staring at a blank wall. Marcus shook his head and leaned in past the paladin. He easily passed his hand through and whispered to Mytrym, “Illusion.”
The paladin and dungeon delver nodded to each other and slipped in past the illusion. The room seemed to be nothing more than a large twenty foot by twenty foot empty room. Marcus frowned and whispered, “This doesn’t make sense, even the abandoned bedroom still had furniture. And if this room was empty, one of the other two would have moved in here.” Suspecting another illusion he felt his way forward slowly.
As Plickit and Will stepped to the doorway, soft arcane words came from one corner, followed by a soothing voice. “You should leave the outpost. There is nothing really here worth your trouble.” Mytrym and Marcus both moved towards the voice, and could see through the illusion that room indeed was another bedroom, and that another wizard stood in one corner.
Will and Plickit meanwhile glanced at each other, shrugged and turned to walk out. Mytrym glanced back and blinked, confused for a moment.
Marcus could see the wizard now and was walking straight toward him. Mytrym was not able to see the wizard, and was torn between his departing companions and whoever had enchanted them.
The wizard muttered a couple more arcane words and a dark shape leapt from one of the corners. A thing of nightmares, all claws and scales, it threw itself at Marcus. The dungeon delver yelped and threw up his hands to protect himself and started to dodge to one side. Claws ripped and shredded at him, and the pain was intense. He could feel his heart stopping with fear. His death was at hand.
Another illusion he thought! Shaking his head clear, he growled and stepped forward toward the wizard, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, “I think not mage.” He thrust his rapier forward, fully extending the attack, the point aimed at the mage’s heart.
The tip of the blade turned and weapon twisted in his hand as yet another stoneskin spell protected their opponent.
Mytrym stepped up beside the rogue and lashed out at where the rogue had been attacking, but the mage was already moving. He dodged out of the way of the paladin’s attack and quickly muttered a few arcane words, disappearing completely. Another mage had gotten away.
In the tower room, Will and Plickit landed near Amador. The cleric had cast a circle of protection on himself while he was waiting for the others, and the moment Will and Plickit entered it, they blinked and shook their heads.
Naria and Amador stepped up. “What is it?” asked the cleric.
Will frowned, “I think we are supposed to be leaving, but that makes no sense what so ever.”
Plickit nodded, then added, “Made perfect-tck sense a moment-tck ago… now not-tck so.”
The drow woman cast a quick dispelling on the pair, but frowned when it seemed to have no effect, “The enchantment is to difficult for me to counter.”
Amador frowned, “Well as long as you stay within the area of the circle you can not be effected by such enchantments.
Marcus and Mytrym appeared in the doorway above. Marcus was not happy, “He got away too.” He looked a little pale, and a small trickle of blood was oozing from the corner of his mouth, from one nostril and down from his ears.
A voice broke through their discussion. “Enough of this!” Everyone looked up, but only Plickit and Marcus could see the finely dressed, drow floating at the top of the tower. He wore a circlet atop his head, helping to keep his flowing white hair back, and his shirt was tucked into an ornate pair of bracers. “I am Solom Ned’razak, Archmage of Szith Morcane, master of this tower, and teacher to the young students you have been sparring with.”
Will’s eyebrows shut up under his bangs. Archmage. It could be a bluff, or it could be true, in which case they were in serious trouble.
The archmage floated to one side, never staying long in one particular spot. “While this has been an amusing learning lesson for my students, its cost will become to high if it continues, so it ends. Now.”
The party waited a moment, then Mytrym broke the silence, “I’m Mytrym, of Eilistraee.”
The Archmage did not miss a beat, despite the invoke goddess. “Well met, Mytrym. You and your companions do not belong here. Why have you come?”
Will spoke, “You have been raiding the surface.”
“Not I, young savant. That is the work of the cultists that rule here now.”
Mytrym quickly asked, “You work for them?”
“No. They allow my school to continue, in exchange I provide them arcane spell support.”
Mytrym smiled, “We are here to stop them. They have caused too much trouble already, we plan to make sure they stop, one way or another.”
The archmage chuckled, “Well then it seems we have a common goal. I’d like nothing more than to see them… removed. I tell you what. I will agree not to destroy you, despite your intrusion on my home, if you will divert your hostility towards the cult of Banshee. Once the cult is destroyed, you are free to come and go, but Szith Morcane will be mine to rule. I expect you will be either going home, or continuing on to whomever controls the strings of the puppet that leads the cult here.”
Amador did not like a bit of it, but he knew that to face this mage would be sheer folly. “What do you know of a collection of items of the various races?”
“I know they were not kept here, but continued to cult’s mistresses in the city of Maerimydra. Other than that, I know not.”
“What of a halfling that was killed by the cult?”
“I don’t know what a cult of the dead do with the fallen of their enemy, but I could surely guess. However, I have not seen the one to which you refer. Perhaps he was taken to Maerimydra as well. Now if you would not mind returning the stolen spellbook, you can keep the spellbook of the student you defeated. He won’t be needing it.”
Will smiled and pulled the first spellbook back out. He set it on the ground. “Sure. How about you have your student dispel the enchantment he placed on us?”
The archmage chuckled. “Of course.” Dropping the immovable rod to the tower base, he opened the highest door of the tower, behind which stood his two surviving students. Nodding to one, the archmage turned to watch the party. The head student muttered a few words and the enchantment was lifted.
The archmage smiled, “Good luck in the temple. You’ll need it.”
