Opposites Attract

by Azrael Heavenblade

Azrael, Drakana, Hillodania, and Obelisk are reunited on the continent of Kunark. Passions flare as Obelisk and Hillodania fall in love, even as Azrael meets Aelyena, a beautiful paladin. But, danger lurks in the jungles of this unexplored land.

Text notes: When a * is placed on either side of a sentence, that indicates speech by the shadow knight Chthon, whose voice is demonic in nature, the sound of flame always in the background. ** indicates his thoughts in relation to Azrael's.

Ssithlar leapt from tree to tree in the jungle surrounding the outpost of Fironia Vie. He had been sent by the Legion of Cabilis to explore and scout the findings as to the progress of the elven fort. So far, much progress had been made, and many residential buildings had been set up not only for the pilgrims, but for the many adventurers who visited on a regular basis. The young Iksar had seen a couple of these soft-skinned outsiders, and was not impressed. He was on his way back when he heard singing coming from somewhere off to his left. His curiosity piqued, he vaulted off in that direction, and came to a little tributary that fed into the river that flowed from the Lake of Ill Omen. In the midst of the small stream, an elf was bathing, but unlike any of the humans or elves the monk had seen thus far, this one was undoubtedly female. His eyes bulged as traced the curves of her body, absently noting the more interesting differences between the females of his own species and hers. He began to climb to another branch to get a better view of her front when a stabbing pain erupted in his right eye and the world faded to black. With a hissing scream, he fell from the tree and landed with a sickening thud on the ground and lay there twitching, the throwing knife still protruding from the ruined eye socket. Hillodania stepped out of the brook and picked up a soft towel and dried herself with it, and gave a perfunctory glance over to the Iksar, muttering, "Pervert . . . "

The guards waved to the wood elf as she re-entered the city, giving nervous blushes despite their normally battle-hardened attitudes when she gave them a small, sweet little grin that caused their hearts to melt and their fingers to tremble. She walked into her new communal house not far from where the bank was, and threw her now soaking wet towel onto her cot. She dragged a large chest out from underneath it, and pulled out her usual equipment, mostly banded with a Sarnak-Emblazoned Tabard, Troll-Hide belt, and Executioner's hood being the few things out of the ordinary. She had been rather unable to find someone selling any better armor than she had already, despite all of the money that she had gotten a few months ago in her sortie into Guk, but she had heard rumors of much better armor for rogues lying somewhere in the ruins of an ancient city in this much unexplored continent. Pulling off her cloth robe, she donned the traditional leotard and soft leather boots of the Wood Elves, and pulled her other gear on after it.

Later . . .

The Sarnak gave a weak hiss as it crumpled to the ground, it's mad flight ended by Hillodania's dirk buried in it's spine. Hillodania wasn't finding all that much anymore to fight that was worthwhile, having reached her thirty-first season not too long ago. She leaned back against the mill and took a breath, shielding her eyes from the hot summer sun. The chirp of insects filled the air, drowning out most other noises, but that didn't mean much to a Wood Elf. She finally got up and moved away from the mill, but stopped dead when she felt eyes boring into her backside.

Growling, she whirled around and shouted, "Stop staring at my butt!" while stabbing her dirk forwards at the figure standing in the spot she used to fill. Astonishingly, her thrust missed as the man-shape vaulted over her, using her shoulders as a base for a handspring, but she barely felt any weight. Turning around again, she found herself looking at a mustachioed human, who stood admiring her, his fingers running along his chin, and he remarked, "Well, that's certainly not a friendly welcome is it?" She looked him up and down and discerned that he must be a monk, for he was wearing the harness of one around his torso, leaving most of his chest bare, and he was wearing golden silk pants, silk slippers, and odd-looking arm-bands. On his wrists, he wore a serpentine bracer like herself, as well as a green metallic bracer that hinted that it was a Hero Bracer to increase his strength. Around his waist, he had a purple sash, and around his head, a black headband.

"Who are you, and where do you get off ogling me when I'm trying to rest?" she asked him in a huff, her hands resting on her dirk and stiletto, but the monk didn't seem the slighted bit perturbed, quite the opposite in fact. "Ogling? That's perhaps a crude way of putting it, rather, I was observing your good fortune to be blessed with such beauty, my good elven maiden," the human replied, a grin beginning to spread across his face. "Well, I guess we know you're an eunuch then, since you obviously don't know how to treat a woman," Hillodania remarked, hoping to set him off, but he just broadened his grin and commented, "No, my manhood is very much intact, otherwise my techniques would be adversely affected . . . would you care to check for yourself?"

This time it was Hillodania's turn to blush, and she shook her head violently, and the monk just laughed at her embarrassment. Then he stopped suddenly as if he had never started, and walked forwards, bent down on one knee, took her hand and kissed it, then introduced himself, "I am Obelisk of the Ashen Order of Freeport, it's my pleasure to meet your acquaintance, miss . . . ?" "It's Hillodania, of the Scouts of Tunare . . . . Just what kind of a monk are you?" Hillodania said, jerking her hand back, but made no move to wipe away the feel of his lips upon the back of her hand. "A very interesting one I'd like to say," Obelisk replied, easing back onto the side of the mill and patted the ground to the left of him, indicating she should sit, but she chose to stand. "But, if you are a monk from Freeport, aren't you supposed to follow the Tranquil? I thought those guys were stiff as boards and just about as lively in personality," she said after a while, easing from one foot to the other.

"Well, yes, but not all of us have to follow a strict code of personal conduct, the trainers do it just to set an example for us students, most of whom ignore it," Obelisk told the elven rogue, who grew more and more uncomfortable with his familiar attitude, as if he'd known her all his life rather than just a few minutes. She turned to go and called over her shoulder, "I have to go sell some things, see you around maybe." But in an instant, the monk was walking alongside her, and as she looked over in surprise, he gave her a little smile, making him extremely handsome in a rakish sort of way, causing her heart to patter much like she'd done to the guards earlier, and he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Can I buy you a drink?" Hillodania wanted to say no, but since she was never one to refuse some free food or liquor, she nodded and said, "Sure."

"Is he for real?" the bartender whispered to Hillodania as they both stared at Obelisk, who was sedately sipping his white wine. "Unfortunately, I think he is," Hillodania replied, going silent when Obelisk looked her way and winked at her. "It's wild, I mean, a monk who can drink, play card games, as well as fight? For your sake, I hope he's good in bed as well," the bartender commented under his breath, earning a cuff on the side of the head from Hillodania, and he moved away chuckling.

An hour later . . .

"Really, thanks for walking me back, but don't you have a place to go?" Hillodania asked Obelisk as they stood in the doorway of the communal residence. "Well, my own 'townhouse' is only down the way, you're sure I can't come in, just for a second?" the monk replied, placing his head on his palm, grinning. "Well, I'm really tired, so I'm going to go to bed right away, good night!" Hillodania said quickly, shutting the door very quickly, almost slamming it in the human's face. His grin never faded as he walked away with a bounce in his step as he said just loud enough for himself to hear, "Hard to get eh? Oh well, I can wait . . . ."

The next day, Hillodania was hard at work, killing various Sarnaks near a fort that had been set up recently by the dragon-men. However, the one she was currently fighting was being rather reluctant to die, and she was taking a good number of hits, far more than she would have allowed, but the mental image of the human monk kept distracting her. Finally, she managed to dodge aside from the Sarnak's weakening blows and slip her dirk into it's heart, and the Sarnak flopped over onto it's side, twitching.

Hillodania sagged to the ground under the shade of a tree and rubbed her aching side while thinking to herself, This is pathetic! Ouch . . . that's going to leave a mark...I mean, what man has ever stayed in my life for more than a day? Why am I still thinking about him, he's nothing at all like me . . . (but that's why you like him isn't it?) . . . Oh shut up!(isn't it?)No, I don't like him, not one bit!(but you do like him) One day, I'm going to get rid of you, even if you are what remains of my conscience . . . Gathering her breath, she stood up, several joints cracking from stiffness. Another Sarnak was moving off in the distance, but due to the ringing in her head from the previous Sarnak's blows and the haze from the summer heat rising, she couldn't tell just what rank it was. Sighing, she ran off in it's direction anyways.

The sword crashed down inches from her side as Hillodania staggered backwards, attempting to evade the Sarnak's furious swings. The Sarnak had been fairly easy, until now, and the wood elf was losing ground, and blood, slowly but surely. With a bash to the side of her head that left her stunned, the Sarnak kicked her in her now open abdomen, knocking the breath out her lungs and causing her to fall on her back. With a shrill hiss of triumph, the Sarnak raised it's sword to end her life.

Hillodania feebly raised her arms to ward off the blow, but it never came, instead, she saw a shadow fly over her head and impact the Sarnak. Seconds later, Obelisk and a dark elven woman wearing black armor ran up, and attacked the Sarnak as one. The woman motioned to a skeleton pet, and it rushed over cackling, but was only a temporary distraction for the more powerful dragon-man. This distraction was all that was needed for the Dark Reaver to slice the Sarnak in half.

Obelisk stood up after looting the corpse, and walked over to where Hillodania was propping herself up on a broken column. "Looks like you need some help, Miss," he remarked, his familiar grin already appearing under his moustache. Hillodania attempted to scowl, but it only came out as a pained grimace. Obelisk's grin immediately faded, and despite her protests, began to check her wounds. After a moment, he called to the beautiful but strangely scarred dark elf, who was meditating a short distance away. "Drakana! She needs some healing over here!" The shadow knight opened her eye, revealing crimson irises. In a deep, throaty voice, she replied, "Well, bandage her up first, then I'll do what I can with Dark Empathy, but I don't owe her much beyond that." Rather than being bothered by the dark elf's comments, the monk just shrugged, and pulled some bandages out of his backpack, and began applying them over Hillodania's wounds.

After he was done, Drakana got up and sashayed over to where Hillodania was resting, and she squatted down next to the wood elf, who shied away at first, but the dark elf took on a strangely maternal look as she looked over where she was bandaged, and her touch was warm, in comparison to the cold touch of some of the Teir'Dal, so Hillodania began to relax after a few minutes. After her diagnosis was complete, Drakana closed her eyes in concentration, and a gray-bluish haze settled around her, gathering into her hands, which then floated over to Hillodania, and her wounds began to sting, but not as much as they did before. After a few minutes had elapsed, the pain subsided, and Drakana got up, grimacing slightly as blood began seeping out from under her armor. In concern, Hillodania reached out to the shadow knight, but her hand was pushed aside gently, the dark elf remarking as she walked away, "I'm strong, I can take it. I thought life was nothing but pain, until I met Obelisk. You'd do good to listen to what he has to say, girl. I'll meet you tomorrow for another round, get her fixed up, and maybe she can accompany us a little further into the wilderness here!"

Hillodania attempted to stand, but a wave of dizziness overtook her and she slumped back to the ground. Obelisk sighed, knelt down and picked her up and began to walk towards the river. "You most likely have a concussion, which means you'll have to stay in bed a while until you get better," he told her as he carried her down the slope besides the waterfall in the forests near Fironia Vie. Hillodania wanted to complain, but she was so very tired, and he felt too warm for her to insist to be able to walk, so she just remained silent, holding onto his chest harness as he leapt from rock to rock.

After bringing dinner up to her, he motioned for her to take her clothes off. When she gave him a startled look, he smiled softly and explained, "I'm going to give you a massage to help out with those sore muscles of yours, otherwise, you won't heal as quickly." Nodding in agreement, she hesitated for a bit, then stripped down to her leotard and laid down on her stomach on the cot. Cracking his knuckles, he began to work on her shoulders, causing her to gasp in pleasure. "That feels so good," she murmured as he continued down her back. Obelisk nodded, and explained as he worked, "We're trained to do this for each other so we can eventually do it ourselves to mend our own wounds, though this might not be as effective, it will aid the healing process, and most importantly, help you to rest." Hillodania gazed up at him as he started on her legs, her eyelids growing heavy, as she smiled faintly in contentment. Maybe I do like him after all . . . she thought to herself, yawning. She opened her eyes briefly when Obelisk flipped her over, but by the time he got to her feet again, she was fast asleep.

Obelisk pulled the covers over her, and impulsively bent over to kiss her on her forehead. A wild woman like her, is that what I really want? Well, it'd certainly be a welcome change from the boring life of a monk; I swear, I joined for the fighting, not for the dogma. He sat watching her in a chair nearby for a while, then he set up a small stand with a peg on it, and gripping the peg with his toes, he stood up on it, and settled into a stance of meditation, and that's how Hillodania's roommates found him later, asleep as well, though still standing up, a smile still on his face.

Hillodania woke up to the rays of the sun, shining in through the small window in the communal home. She sat up, stretching, her auburn hair falling back over her shoulders. As she sat up all the way, the sunlight was blocked out by a shadow, and with a squeak of surprise, she spun to face the shadow's source, and found Obelisk, still in his meditative stance. Has he been there all night? she thought to herself silently. She got up out of the cot, and wandered over to where he was still balanced on the wooden peg. "Oh, so you finally noticed, sleepyhead!" Mmya called over to the wood elf, her head poking up from the stairwell.

Mmya was an erudite wizard, but was remarkably less stodgy than most of her erudite brethren. "Has he been that way since last night?" Hillodania asked, gazing thoughtfully at his legs, which showed no sign of strain. "Yep, can't see how he does it, but he's been that way since about eleven last night, when you went to bed. I'm going to get some breakfast then head out, it's your turn to clean up today, remember?" Mmya remarked as she walked down the steps, pulling her hood up over her obsidian-hued hair.

Hillodania grimaced, and then stood up on her tiptoes to gaze at Obelisk's serene face. As her face neared his, he suddenly opened his eyes, grinned, and said in a cheerful voice, "Good morning!" With a cry, she fell over backwards, but he was off the peg and caught her before she could hit the ground. "Don't do that! You scared me!" she said, but now she was smiling as well. "Did I hear something about clean-up duty? I'll help if you'd like," Obelisk commented, setting her back on her feet. "Yeah, sure," she replied after getting dressed in a white blouse and tan leather pants with brown leather boots, and started to walk down the stairs, but winced in pain when a spike of pain shot through her ribs. "Something wrong?" Obelisk asked, with a concerned look. "Just some left-over pain from yesterday . . . its nothing, probably fade later on when I'm out in my usual rounds," she said as he stepped down to where she was, and laid a hand on her shoulder, which she placed her own hand on top of it.

"I don't think so, you got hit pretty hard in the ribs, you likely got one or more broken, and even Drakana's healing won't totally get rid of a serious injury like that all together. It's best you take a few days off, and take it easy on your ribs. If you want, you can join me in my exercises," Obelisk told her as they walked down the stairs to the messy kitchen. She looked over at him as he walked over and started gathering up the plates, and replied, "Sounds interesting, why not?"

After the dishes were done, they walked over to the bridge leading out, and Hillodania waved once again to the guards, and they gave their usual smiles and blushes, but also looks of surprise and concern at her bandaged ribs and lack of armor. After walking along the beach for a while, they came to a large, clear hillock, where no monsters could be seen. Hillodania followed Obelisk through his stretching, but she mainly watched as he began his katas, though she attempted to follow his forms the best she could with her ribs slowing her down.

After a while, it was just Hillodania duplicating the katas, with Obelisk looking on in approval. After she finished, he clapped, and commented, "Pretty good for a beginner, but I don't think you're taking this very seriously." She smiled, and reached over and tapped his nose with a slender finger and said with a laugh, "Now, what would give you that idea?" Obelisk merely grinned, and sat down cross-legged to begin meditating, and Hillodania sat down next to him. After half an hour had passed, Obelisk opened one eye to look over to see how she was doing, and chuckled when he saw her in his same exact pose, but her eyes open, and a fashion book in her hand.

As they walked back to the city as twilight was ending and night was rushing in, Hillodania commented, "Well, I guess that was ok . . . fun even, but I probably wouldn't want to do that every day." "Well, even I don't do it every day, like you said, it does get boring after a while, but it's absolutely necessary for the art, and maintaining the proper sense of inner peace," Obelisk replied. The wood elf laughed, and punched his arm playfully, and remarked, "Now don't you start preaching to me!" The guards gave them strange stares as the couple walked in, both laughing hysterically.

As they passed the bank, Hillodania started to say something, but fell silent with a shake of her head. "You were going to say something? Don't feel shy," Obelisk told her, as they came to a stop. She looked up, cleared her throat, and said, "I'd . . . well, I'd like to see your place if I could." The monk's face lit up, and he nodded and started walking off in the direction of a low building near the wharf, waving for her to follow.

They walked into the building which was mainly bare with the exception of a array of staves, maces, shurikens, and various monk clothing all neatly arranged along the wall, beside a real bed, not a cot. Hillodania looked over at him questioningly, and he commented with a shrug, "Yes, this was originally going to be a guild house for the casters, but they decided to take the smaller houses near the main citadel close to the statue, so they raised no objections when I said I wanted to move in. Hillodania walked around, opening doors and looking in cabinets and closets, but there was nothing in any of them but food, bandages, and various books on monk techniques, sutras, and meditations.

"It's . . . so . . . austere," she said finally. "It suits my needs, besides, monks aren't supposed to live lives of luxury," Obelisk remarked, throwing himself down on the bed. "I think I could change that," she remarked with a wink, and the human just laughed at her suggestion. Hillodania walked over to the door, looked back at the monk and asked, "Joken will be making dinner later, if you want to join us, you're free to come! We always have more than enough because Ursus eats like the bear he's named after!" Obelisk thought for a moment, then nodded. Hillodania smiled and walked off towards her house, humming happily.

On her way back, she saw a strange orange light coming from the area of her communal boarding house, and before she could postulate a guess, several guards rushed past her carrying buckets of water. Ignoring her complaining ribs, Hillodania ran after them, to find the communal house ablaze on the lower floor, with a crowd of people gathered around. She threaded her way to the front, where she saw Mmya standing, her face covered in soot. "What happened?" she asked, causing the Erudite to jump before turning around. "Oh! Hillodania! You're all right! Thank Prexus! We weren't sure if you had gotten back yet, but Joken started a fire by accidentally knocking over one of my candles when he was reaching for the flour," the older woman said, her hand going to her face in disgust. Hillodania looked back over at the blaze, and asked, "My things?" "They're safe, I had just enough time to shield the ceiling and the stairs, so the upper floors should still be fine," Mmya assured her, and cast a glare over at the barbarian toasting pieces of bread and eating them. Ursus looked her way, and with a sheepish expression, he said through a mouthful of bread, "Hey, I didn't get to eat dinner, and you know how hungry I get!"

Hillodania giggled, and then felt a hand lay itself on her shoulder. Looking back, she saw Obelisk gazing at the still blazing inferno. He lowered his head after a while, and said softly, "I guess we won't be having dinner together then, huh?" Joken came over to them, his face totally black, and asked, "Hey, I know you! You got that real nice place near the docks! If you'd be willing, I can still make dinner at your place!" Obelisk looked over the other human's features, and with a smirk, he replied, "All right, I'll show you where everything is."

"Whew, I'm stuffed!" Ursus rumbled, holding his distended belly contentedly. "I would think so, you ate just about all the food in the house!" Mmya remarked with a grimace, looking around at the empty cupboards. Hillodania giggled, then looked over to where Joken was attempting to have a drinking contest with Obelisk, but was slowly being drunk under the table. "Man u r not feel ng it at al r u?" Joken mumbled, picking up his twelfth mug of ale, his face red from drink. "Why not have another drink and find out?" replied the monk, the only sign of being inebriated was the slight rose tint to his cheeks. After draining it, Joken looked over at the other man with bleary eyes and mumbled something incomprehensible, then slipped underneath the table, crashing to the floor. Ursus looked up from picking his teeth with a sliver of wood, and began clapping. "That's the first time I can remember Joken being defeated, usually everyone else collapses after only the sixth mug, do you know how much alcohol he puts in that stuff?" Ursus commented, sitting up a little straighter in his chair, to gaze at the human paladin, who was beginning to snore.

"I'm good at a lot of things," Obelisk remarked, casting a wink at Hillodania, who blushed in response. Then, one of the guards walked through the door, looked around and said, "Where is the tenant of communal house #23?" Mmya got up and replied, "That's me, any news on the house?" The guard nodded, and told her, "The ground floor won't be suitable to live in for a while, but the upper floors are ok, we've set up some ladders so you can get to your beds tonight, just thought I'd tell you that the stairs are unstable, so don't try using them until we can get them repaired."

After the guard left, Mmya turned to Obelisk and said, "Well, we've stayed long enough. Sorry to have eaten you out of house and home." Obelisk laughed, and remarked, "That's quite all right, I can get as much as I want from the port when the next boat comes in, you better get some rest, it's nearly midnight." The erudite nodded, and waved for Ursus to follow, and the barbarian grunted in response, got up from the table and walked over to where Joken was still sprawled out, and dragged him off by the collar of his tunic.

Hillodania gazed after her companions, then back to Obelisk, who was clearing away the dishes. "Mind if I stay here tonight?" she asked. "Sure, there's only one bed though, so I'll sleep on the floor," Obelisk replied, gathering up the dozen or so chicken skeletons littering the table. "On the . . . floor?" Hillodania asked, almost to herself, looking down at the cold hardwood planks. "Yeah, it's only a few weeks into fall, so it shouldn't be that cold. Besides, Kunark is a tropical continent," the monk commented, placing the last of the dishes by the washbasin. "Well . . . we could . . . share the bed you know," Hillodania told him, a blush tinting her face. "If it suits you," Obelisk replied, his familiar grin coming to his face, though with a rakish tinge from the effects of the drink.

Later . . .

Hillodania looked out at the night stars, as Obelisk slept silently next to her. Would have thought he'd snore, with all that drink, dad used to always snore after he had some wine, she wondered as she looked back at his face, even more handsome now that it was smoothed by sleep. The fire crackled in the fireplace, but despite it's heat, the cold of the night still reached to the bed, and she snuggled closer to Obelisk to get warmer. I could get used to this, she thought to herself as she herself succumbed to drowsiness.

Hillodania awoke as the sun poured in through the open window onto her resting form. She sat up and stretched, then patted next to her only to find Obelisk missing. Puzzled, she thought for a moment and then concluded that he must already be out on the hill for his daily practice. She rose, pulling closed the cloth robe she was wearing, and made her way over to her clothes. After dressing, she ate breakfast in silence, noticing with a grimace that all the dishes were still piled up by the sink. She shrugged and thought to herself, Oh well, we can do them later, when he gets back. On second thought, I've got nothing better to do, so why don't I go find him? After adding her dishes to the already impressive stack by the basin, she donned her armor and ran out the door, her mood far lighter than it had been for months. She didn't so much as glance at the guards this morning, and the two high elves gave each other puzzled looks. She reached the hill not long after, but Obelisk wasn't there. Now where could he be?

Obelisk snuck behind the large granite rock as the train of Iksars passed, carrying what looked to be water-purifying devices. Probably the only way they can get fresh water, considering the swamp they live in, the monk thought to himself, scratching absentmindedly at the scar hidden by his moustache, where Grand Master Glox had nearly split his lip. He did not want to get into another entanglement like the last time, it had taken him nearly a year to recover. As soon as the column of lizard-men were out of earshot, the human dashed to the next row of stones and kept going until he was near the entrance to Cabilis. Tried doing this from the Field of Bone before, they won't be expecting me to use this entrance . . . rats, he thought silently, now noticing the several guards positioned at the entrance. Heh, looks like they've taken extra precautions on my account. Ah well, that's no problem Obelisk pulled a shuriken out of his sash, and aimed it at a torch hanging near one of the doors. He threw the shuriken swiftly, and it expertly knocked the torch free from it's base and it fell on the wooden door, lighting it aflame. All the guards except the crusader ran forwards to help put out the fire, and even then, the crusader was several feet beyond the gate, exactly where Obelisk wanted him. He snuck carefully past the guard from behind the statue where he had moved to watch the carnage, and into the city.

No sooner than he had rounded the corner he noticed the guards seated right near the entrance to the tunnel which led into the city. Bollocks! How in the hell am I supposed to get past these guys? My trick with the Froglock slave won't work this time . . . I know! he thought to himself, then he called in an imitation Iksar voice, "Brotherssssss! There is a fire raging outsssssside! Come help quickly!" then hid behind the corner, pulling two Jade Maces from his sash. The four guards came running, and he carefully clubbed the first pair, then the next just as they rounded the corner, too surprised to give an alarm. Gotcha! That won't hold em for long, better get the scroll and get out He ran lightly through the tunnel, not letting anyone hear the sound of his footfalls, and leapt immediately up onto the roof of the nearest building. Leaping from roof to roof, he leapt to the temple in the middle of the canals. A couple Iksar were walking down there, the morning crowd, but not too many. Still, it slowed Obelisk to a snail's pace, and just as he was rounding the corner out of sight, he heard an angry hiss, and shouts. Whipping around, he saw the train of Iksar from before, waving the empty water containers angrily. Uh oh . . . .

And ssssstay there! the Iksar guard cursed in Lizardman, locking the cell door behind him. Well, this is just great genius, you've gotten yourself caught again. Least they didn't kill me, though they might later, probably going to go fetch Glox so he can do it personally, Obelisk thought unhappily, rubbing his jaw where he had been punched repeatedly. He concentrated, and the bruises mended themselves, though he was still left with several. The guard had plopped down on a stool facing the cell, and was regarding him with blatant hatred. Obelisk slumped to the floor and regarded his cell. No pallet, not even straw to sleep on. No food or water, clearly death row. He shook his head, and thought to himself, Least I had some good times the night before I died, now she's going to be left all alone again . . . no, not true, she still has her roommates, she won't miss me at all.

An hour passed, and Obelisk had gotten up and started pacing, while the guard had taken to whittling a piece of wood with his claws to fix his boredom. As the monk turned around for the thousandth time, the guard growled and shouted at him, "Will you ssssstop pacing?!" "Why don't you come in here and make me gecko boy?" Obelisk retorted, hoping that the guard would take up his offer and challenge him, but the Iksar forcibly calmed himself down and grinned. "Brocksssss realize your plan now, you think you can defeat him and take keyssss yesssssss? HAH! Stay in there and pace all you want, you die very ssssssoon! HA!" the guard chuckled, plopping back down on his stool. "Ssssssome problem with the prisoner?" came a voice from outside the cellblock. A female Iksar descended the stairs, in familiar-looking armor. Knowing the Iksar's penchant for using the cast-off armor from their kills, Obelisk sank to the floor and moaned, realizing Hillodania's likely fate. The guard stood up and regarded her interestedly, but soon got a puzzled and wary look on his face. "Not time for change yet, why you here ssssso ssssoon?" he asked, but didn't get time to ask another question as a Stiletto of the Bloodclaw buried itself in his throat, severing his vocal cords in addition to his jugular vein. The female Iksar chuckled, and the air around it shimmered and revealed Hillodania. Astonished, Obelisk sat bolt upright as the rogue lifted the keys from the guard's belt, switched through a couple and unlocked his gate. "How did . . . ?" Obelisk asked, confused and intrigued at the same time. "Illusion, I'll tell you all about it later lover-boy, right now we need to get out of here," she said, pulling on his arm, but the monk stopped her with a shake of his head. "I need to get their training scroll from the monk guild, that's what I was sent here for, by the Ashen Order. We need to find out how much of the Art they know, and any new techniques. You need to help me get it, or this whole fiasco will be for nothing," Obelisk told her. Hillodania regarded him with her forest green eyes as if he had announced that they were going to go and have tea with Lady Vox, but she nodded anyways.

"Hurry up!" Obelisk whispered down to Hillodania, who was currently hidden in the shadows, sneaking towards Master Glox's chest, where the scroll was hidden. "Hold your horses! You know what will happen if we get caught right?" she called back, and moved towards the chest, as Glox and a few of his students practiced a short distance away. Just as she reached the chest, a messenger ran up and bowed before Glox. Yesssss, what isss it? the old Iksar Monk Guild leader asked, looking away from his students out of the corner of his eye. It isss about time for the human'ssssss public execution Grand Master! the messenger reported, then bowed low again and remained silent. Finally! Then again, a little wait makessss the actual event that much...sssssweeter, Glox remarked quietly, and waved for his students to follow him as the messenger led them off. Great, that means I won't have to be as careful, but they're going to be pretty angry when they find Obelisk missing, better hurry, Hillodania thought as she manipulated the latch with her lockpicks, successfully getting it open. The chest inside was filled with gear, much of it very priceless for monks, but the thing she was looking for was the scroll. After carefully sifting through the gear, she found the dusty scroll at the bottom, and she stuffed it into a bag and closed the chest quietly, latching it and leaping back up onto the wall where Obelisk was waiting. "Let's go, we probably don't have much time until they send every Iksar in the city after us!" she told him and he followed her across the rooftops as drums began to sound.

As they reached the gate back to the Lake of Ill Omen, a harsh hissing scream split the noonday haze, and Obelisk smirked. "Looks like they found out the bad news, let's hurry," he remarked, and they disposed with all secrecy, leaping down to the street, surprising some of the Iksar patrons of the shops. As they ran towards the gate, the guards moved to stop them, still nursing the lumps Obelisk had given them, but they died, as each took either a throwing dagger from Hillodania or a shuriken from Obelisk. They ran out into the fresh air near the Lake of Ill Omen, surprising the guards stationed there, but the couple simply leaped over them and ran fast as they could towards the lake. The Iksar, unaccustomed to running, soon lost their wind, and Obelisk and Hillodania escaped into the forest surrounding Fironia Vie. Finally, when the two adventurers got back to town they were laughing as they walked back in, hand in hand, at which the two guards grimaced. "Now we can relax!" exclaimed Obelisk, grinning from ear to ear. "Not yet lover, the dishes?" she reminded him. "Oh yeah . . . "

Obelisk stood out at the doorway of his dockside home, and listened to the chirping of the crickets, and the occasional clanking of one of the night guards passing by. It had been two days since he and Hillodania had escaped Cabilis with the scroll. Deciphering it had been difficult, but the entirety of it had been fairly close to the one of the Ashen Order's scrolls back home in Freeport, with the exception of moves designed for the Iksar to use their tails. Suddenly, he heard a woman's voice singing out of the calmness of the night, sweet, but sad, filled with longing.

I can see the light upon your face and then watch it disappear without a trace And yes when your body and soul close to mine My head starts to spin and my hands start to shake

So is this a dream, or am I never awake? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay?

I surrender to your warm embrace I dream and suddenly I'm in an other place And yes it's a miracle I'm under your spell My heart is on fire, I have no regrets If I never find you I'll never forget

Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay?

My heart is on fire, I have no regrets If I never find you, I'll never forget

Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Stay, don't ever leave me lonely And I will gladly give my life To you, so please won't you stay? Won't you stay? Won't you stay?

"Stay" is copyright of Wendy Phillips and Sound Design records, so don't sue me, please.

Halfway through the song, he recognized the soloist and tears almost came to his eyes, but he forced them down and walked back into the house and to the little bedroom at the back of the house, where Hillodania was kneeling on top of the bed, looking out the window, the last strains of the song fading from her throat as tears streamed down her face. "Was that you singing, Hillodania?" he asked, and sat down on the bed next to her. Silently, she sat back down and sagged onto his shoulder, and sobbed silently. Wordlessly, Obelisk just held her until she stopped, gently rocking her back and forth.

After the longest time, Obelisk finally said, "You don't have to worry about me leaving you, I won't, now or ever." "I know," she replied, her voice strained but still strong. "I know, but . . . I've got to tell you now, or I doubt I will ever be able to," she replied, and without waiting for an answer she continued, still holding onto him with her eyes closed.

"All this show of being the temptress, the flirt, the man-eater, it's all fake. It's just an act, a wretched little play I put on to convince everyone that I'm happy and content, with lots of friends and lovers, but the truth is, I'm feel so alone all the time. Ever since I was little, everyone always left me behind, never paid any attention to me. My parents were always wrapped up in their work at their respective guilds, and my older sister took off a couple years ahead of me to be a ranger, what my parents always had wanted. When I chose to be a rogue, my parents were supportive, but I think they always had hoped that I would have some talent for magic in me, but there was none. My father was a druid, my mother a ranger, they were proud of us both, but I felt that Lsanna almost always got all the glory. In Kelethin at the time, not too many young wood elves were choosing to be rogues, while the druid, ranger, bard, and warrior guilds were full to bursting. While my guildmaster received me eagerly, none of the other kids paid much attention to me afterwards, thinking me strange to want to pursue such a career, but I truly believed in the ideals of the Scouts, the dashing heroes of the forest, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, and all that stuff. It sounded so wonderful, dispensing justice where the law wouldn't allow it, but it just wasn't as flashy to most people as the other choices I guess.

Also, they headed out far earlier than I did, as my guildmaster took especial time with me to teach me while all my former friends were taught as quickly as possible, and sent out into the Faydark just as soon as they had a hold on their sword, or wouldn't stutter their first spells. I stayed so long that my parents soon talked of marrying me off, but that would prevent me from ever pursuing my dream. So, I talked to my guildmaster, and he deemed me ready enough, though he wished he could teach me longer, and he gave me my tunic and dagger and sent me off.

As soon as I could, I headed off into the Butcherblock mountains, as no group would accept me in the Faydark, despite the fact that I would have been every bit as helpful as any other, they just didn't feel I was a part of their society any more. The dwarven rogue guild in Kaladim didn't trust me either at first, and were standoffish even when I earned enough of their trust to train with them. After a while, I left Faydwer totally, and headed for Antonica. I was just maturing then, and oftentimes the only way I could get merchants to sell to me for any sort of descent price would be to flirt with them, and tolerate their groping and lewd comments, day after day. Although rogues were common on Antonica, most of them were dark elves, and they didn't like me very much, unless I put on my show for them as well. Eventually, I had quite a few admirers, but never really any friends.

I found my sister there, but she hadn't advanced very far, having been one of those sent out with very little training, and was totally miserable. I took comfort in her company for a little while, as we helped each other out, pooled our resources, and even shared armor occasionally, as we were about the same size. The one thing that got me down was the fact that she attracted friends without even trying; they just liked her for who she was. Not what she looked like, or tried to be, and that made me feel so very shallow and empty, for the sham I had been living.

I was very much near the end of my rope when I met a young human named Azrael, a paladin, accompanying one of the ugliest ogres I had ever seen on some mad quest to try and gather a load of treasure from the Froglocks living in Lower Guk. While it was tantamount to suicide, I felt compelled to join him, if for no other reason that to keep him from getting killed. I think now that I did it also for my dream of wanting to be a scout, it seemed tailor-made for what I wanted to be, all the tales that the bards sang of, to be a hero.

While I managed to come out of it alive and filthy rich, something I encountered in there shook me to my core. Despite the act I put on for him, Azrael saw past it, to the poor lost girl I really was, and he liked me despite it! He treated me like a comrade-in-arms, not just some trashy sex kitten, just in it for the money and flirting with all the guys. He defended me against all the Froglocks, even when it seemed his life was at stake, even when one of our comrades turned against us.

That money is what got me here, but I couldn't have done it without him, and I don't even know where he is now, whether or not he's even alive. I wrote constantly for months, and then gave up, because his replies were so infrequent, because he was always moving, and no bard seemed to be ever able to find him and give him the mail. It seemed to me that even he left me behind. Sure, I made friends here, but they still don't entirely trust me, they still keep their hands on their belongings, and are never truly serious with me when I try to further our friendships, even when I'm being sincere.

Then I met you. My act didn't so much as faze you, in fact, you responded in kind. You were nothing like me, but that's what attracted me to you. You were calm when I was wild, you were all dignity and grace while I was heat and passion, we just met peak to valley on all levels. I . . . never really felt this way about anyone, despite what they might have thought from how I went on, but . . . I . . . "

Obelisk shut her off with a finger to her lips and shook his head. "There's no need to say anything more, I know, I love you too," he told her, and she sat upright and looked him full in the eyes, and the tears started again, but this time from joy. He smiled and wiped them away and softly kissed her, and they didn't break their embrace for what seemed to be an hour. Later, as they lay together, Hillodania whispered to him, "You were wondering earlier about the song? One of my only true friends, a bard named Nixxius created that song for me. He said that I should sing it whenever I felt lonely, and to think of him when I sang, so that I would always remember that he would still be my friend, no matter where our journeys took us. Now? I don't think I need to sing that song anymore." "I think you need to wait a little longer on that girl, Obelisk is mine!"

Both of them sat up and turned to where the voice originated. At first, neither of them saw anything, but when their eyes focused, they could see red eyes glimmering in the moonlight, and then Drakana stepped out into the moonbeam.

"Drakana . . . what? You've never shown such . . . interest in me before," Obelisk remarked, as he got up out of bed, clad only in light silk pants, and behind him, Hillodania sat up, an aqua silk robe clutched closed around her. Drakana, however, looked past him at Hillodania, with cold hatred and jealousy, but also a bit of envy. Ignoring his comment, she continued, "What we have is far deeper, has lasted longer, than anything you could hope to have!" "Drakana . . . " Obelisk began to growl, his usually smiling face turned to a frown. Not hearing his protest, she went on to claim, "I know all about you, you harlot, you trollop! The only way you could ever get anywhere in life is to offer your body to every single man who came your way! Yes, I see by your face that you know the truth, indeed, I watched you on your little . . . escapades on Antonica before I came here, far before you arrived I might add . . . " "DRAKANA!" Obelisk shouted finally, and she broke off, and looked at him, startled. "That's enough! If you were here long enough to hear that, you must have heard her story! She didn't have any heart in what she did before, and she is truly pure of heart, and I do love her!" he exclaimed, his moustache bristling, but his face was still not yet angry, though his frown had deepened, his eyebrows bunching together.

The dark elf stepped back further, her hands clasped together beneath her chin like a little girl would do, tears actually beginning to form in her crimson eyes. Hillodania couldn't believe her eyes, and her mouth dropped open in shock. A Teir'Dal . . . crying? she thought incredulously. Drakana gave a shuddering sigh and wiped the tears away, and stood up with new resolve. "So, you don't believe that my feelings are true? That I am motivated by old racial feelings of hatred and envy? No! I love you! I always have!" she cried, looking at Obelisk with a look of deep longing. His face cleared up, and he now looked confused. "But, you've never shown any indication . . . " he began, but she cut him off. "You want to be serenaded, monk? Very well, here's a melody of my own, capturing my feelings for you!" She brushed her long white hair back over her shoulder, cleared her throat, then began, in husky, melodious voice . . .

You set me free, finally, I see! You set me free, in you I can believe, you set me free . . .

I was alone when you came to me, saw that I was naked, broken, I couldn't find the strength to carry on. You lifted me up, and you sheltered me, opened up your heart to me, loved me, when I needed you most!

And you set me free! Finally, I see! You set me free, in you I can believe, you set me free, you're everything to me. You set me free, in you I can believe, you set me free . . .

Only your love will set me free, your love will set me free, you set me free. Only your love will set me free, your love will set me free, you set me free.

And you set me free! Finally, I see! You set me free, in you I can believe, you set me free, you're everything to me. You set me free, in you I can believe, you set me free . . .

You set me free.

"You Set Me Free" is copyright of Abigail, so once again, don't sue me, please.

As she finished, tears were once again streaming down her scarred, yet still beautiful face. Her voice straining, she said, "You see? Without you, I would have died, or have taken my own life long before! What Teir'Dal could live with such shame?! Turned out by her own house, tortured at the leisure of another noble, her family betrayed, exiled, left to die out in the forest?" She placed her trembling fingers on the scars tracing across her cheeks. "And these? Marring what chance I would have of finding a lover, and yet, you didn't care about them! You stayed with me, when everyone else turned away!" She attempted to continue, but her voice broke off, and she stood sobbing in the darkened bedroom, her face contorted in anguish. Obelisk's face softened, and he stepped forwards and enfolded her in his arms.

"I see now. I guess there was no other way for you to feel, when nobody else had ever shown you any sort of affection before. But, I didn't love you as I would a future bride, but as the little sister I never had," he told her. She stiffened, and her eyes snapped open, but before she could say anything, he went on. "I was an only child, you didn't know that, did you? My parents had been trying desperately to have children for years, and time was running out since they started so late. I was born first after a couple of tries, and my parents were overjoyed, but my mother wanted a daughter of her own to love, so they continued, but they were met with failure at every turn. I could have had five younger brothers, and two younger sisters, but she miscarried each time. As a result, she poured all her love on me, but I always felt that she was still looking for that daughter. I had been meaning to take you home for a long time, but things kept getting in the way," he told her. Hillodania herself was crying at this point, and soon Obelisk's own eyes filled with tears. Still, he managed to smile. "You've adopted so much of my personality, you've almost become my little sister in a way. Ma would take you in without a second's doubt, no matter what race you were," he remarked, smoothing Drakana's hair as he held her. "She . . . would take me in? Love me . . . like her own daughter?" Drakana asked, her eyes wide in amazement, and hope. "Yes," he replied, and finally, Drakana's own lips separated in a sad smile, and hugged him tighter. Hillodania finally got up off the bed and moved over to where they were standing.

Drakana's eyes flashed when she got closer, but she was surprised anew when Hillodania smiled at her. "I never realized how alike we were. You were left behind, hated, while I was left alone, and had to play the part of the harlot to get any sort of attention. Isn't it ironic, that we've both found love in the same man? I would be happy to accept you as a sister as well," she remarked to the astonished shadow knight, and clasped her in an embrace as well. Obelisk moved his arm to bring her into the circle as well, and the three of them stood there for the longest time.

Abruptly, a knock sounded at the door. They broke apart in surprise as the sound of a mailed fist striking the door again. "It must be the guard, doing routine checks. Drakana, hide, quickly!" Obelisk whispered, and Drakana swiftly faded into the shadows of the room. He went cautiously to the door as a third knock resounded, and opened it. But instead of looking down at the face of the wood elven guard, Obelisk found himself face to face with a man with golden armor, holding his helmet in one hand, his other poised to knock again. On his back were several bags, a shield, and a Ghoulbane. Azrael grinned at Obelisk and asked, "I know it's late, but can I come in?"

"All right," Obelisk agreed somewhat reluctantly, and Azrael stepped into the doorway. With a sigh of relief, the paladin shrugged off the half-dozen or so of full backpacks he had been carrying. He rotated his shoulders briefly to loosen them up, and had opened his mouth to speak when Hillodania stepped into view, still just wearing her robe, though it had been thoroughly tied closed now. Azrael's eyes opened wide at seeing her, and Hillodania's own emerald gaze mirrored his. The two stared at each other, open-mouthed for a few minutes while Obelisk scratched his head questioningly. Then, Azrael managed to compose himself, and looked back at Obelisk, but immediately turned back to Hillodania when he noticed Obelisk's own unclad state. The young man switched back and forth between the two lovers, and came to a realization of what they had been up to before he arrived with a wink at the monk. Hillodania blushed and Obelisk sputtered a few moments before he managed to get out, "It wasn't like that at all!" his moustache twitching like mad, like a insane caterpillar trying to extricate itself from his face. He managed to calm himself down, and he asked, "So, you and Hillodania know each other?" The rogue gave a knowing look towards Azrael and nodded, remarking, " . . . We've met." Shrugging, Obelisk carefully closed the door, making sure nobody was watching outside before he did so. He shook his long black hair to attempt to clear his head, and then began stroking his moustache to try and come up with an explanation for why he and Hillodania had greeted him like they did. He snapped his fingers, and called into the back room, "Drakana, its all right, he's a friend."

The dark elf leaned out of the shadows hesitantly, and Azrael stepped back in shock at the sight of her scarred but still beautiful face. The feeling of surprise was mutual as the shadow knight gave a frightened yelp when she saw the amulet signifying Azrael's status as a paladin of the Hall of Truth, and dodged behind Obelisk. She's . . . scared of me? Azrael thought to himself as the monk attempted to dislodge her from his waist. "I told you, he's a friend! It's all right; he won't try to kill you. He, unlike most other people, at least gives people a chance to prove their good nature before he makes judgments," Obelisk exclaimed, a grin beginning to form again on his face, as he forced Drakana in front of him. Azrael realized what Obelisk was attempting to do, and he stepped forwards, causing Drakana to tremble worriedly. But he simply kneeled in front of her, took her hand in his, and told her, "Pleased to meet you, milady. Any friend of Obelisk's is one of mine." Startled, she hesitantly placed her other hand on top of his, completing the formal greeting. Abruptly, she yawned widely, as her eyes revealed just how tired she was. Hillodania echoed the yawn, holding a delicate hand in front of her mouth. Obelisk smirked, and said to the women, "You both get some rest, Azrael and I have some catching up to do." Hillodania nodded, and took Drakana's hand and led her back to the bedroom, and after a few minutes, the clank of armor falling to the floor was heard, in addition to the sound of bedsprings as the bed became occupied, as well as the sound of fabric on wood as apparently a sleeping bag was being laid out.

"That reminds me," Azrael remarked, and began removing his own armor. After a few minutes, he sat back down at the table, wearing a light tunic and leather pants for the hot weather. "So," Obelisk began, sitting down at the other end of the table, "How did you meet Hillodania?" Pulling a water flask from one of his bags, the paladin cracked it open and took a few sips before replying, "Long story. Basically, a short time ago, when we were just novices, both short of earning our surnames, we had a little adventure together in Lower Guk. There, we recovered some treasure that has paid for both our equipment, apparently. I saved her life in there, when we were almost over-run by Froglocks, and very nearly lost mine as well. If not for a raid of trolls we both might have perished." Obelisk nodded thoughtfully, then added, "But was there anything between you two other than that?" Azrael blinked it surprise, then laughed, clapping his friend on the back. "What, are you jealous?" he asked giving him a wink, and Obelisk grinned sheepishly and replied, "Well, if I am going to marry her, I have to know if she had any previous relationships." Azrael's grin widened further, and he exclaimed, "You do move fast!" It was Obelisk's turn to give him a wink, and the two men laughed out loud together. After some more small talk, Azrael finally asked, "So, what are you doing here?" "Well, we have both been training here so far just to get more experience, but we are at a sort of standstill right now. We want to go to a strange place further into the continent called Karnor's Castle, but we have been told we're not ready to go there quite yet. Hillodania had heard of some armor specifically for rogues being found there, and I was going to oblige her by a trip there until I heard of how dangerous the monsters were. We've been trying to find ways to stay fairly close in to this area, but we don't know of any more monsters that would provide sufficient experience for us. We're both nearing our fortieth season, so much of the monsters in the Lake of Ill Omen area are too easy, and while there are some goblins and giants in the Frontier Mountains, they won't get us much further," Obelisk told the other man, and he shrugged, and replied, "Well, I can't help you much there, except for a rumor I heard a while back." When Obelisk leaned forward interestedly, Azrael continued, "There's been strange stories about people disappearing near the lake edge in the Lake of Ill Omen area, so all the evidence points to some powerful monster or monsters living in the lake." The monk knuckled his moustache, thinking over what had been said, and then remarked with a yawn, "We'll investigate it tomorrow morning, best use what's left of the night to get some sleep." Azrael nodded, and within a few minutes, both men were sleeping on the ground in sleeping bags.

The next day . . .

Hillodania covered her mouth as she yawned widely, and Drakana echoed it shortly afterwards, though a scar near her lips gave her the impression of yawning even wider than humanly possible. Obelisk was studying a map that Azrael had given him, and the paladin was busily scanning the coast of the lake, looking for anything odd. "I'm bored," the rogue complained, taking off her chain mail boots to dab her feet in the cool water, splashing around. "Maybe you shouldn't be doing that," Obelisk warned, looking up from the map, which gave the locations of the attacks. She tossed her auburn hair irritably and retorted, "We haven't found the slightest sign in hours, and so putting my feet into the water should be the least dangerous thing I can do!" The monk just shrugged and went back to studying the map. "I concur with Hilly, we should try moving to another location, or just simply go back," Drakana commented, managing to end her yawn finally, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Hilly, huh?" Azrael remarked with an eyebrow raised, and Drakana blushed, making her scars stand out even more. "Well, there's nothing here, so lets just move on," he continued, and started to walk off, Obelisk and Drakana right behind him when they heard a startled yelp and a splash. All three whirled around to see wild water and no sign of Hillodania other than her abandoned boots. Before they could do anything, Hillodania surfaced a long ways out into the lake, stabbing furiously at a pale blue shape that clung to her, pounding at her face and head while trying to drown her at the same time. Without hesitation, Azrael and Obelisk dashed over to the lake and dove in, swimming frantically towards her with Drakana paddling after them. Obelisk, not weighted down by heavy armor was the first to reach her, and he began attacking the blue humanoid figure, which hissed and released the wood elf to attack him. This was a bad move as Hillodania immediately plunged her dagger into it's back, and sword slashes from both Azrael and Drakana nearly cleaved it in half.

After they swam back to shore, panting with exhaustion, they took a good look at what they had killed. It resembled a Kunark goblin, but it had gills on the side of it's neck, and longer, sharper teeth than usual. "This explains it then, a Kunark variant of aqua goblins. I guess there's no end to different subspecies of goblin, but this is good news for us," Azrael muttered to himself as he paced around it, blood slowly leaking out of it's gills, but Hillodania interrupted him. "How so?" she asked incredulously, coughing the water out of her lungs. "Well, here's our monsters which we can train on to go to Karnor's Castle," he replied, and the others' eyes widened as it dawned on them. After looting the dead goblin's corpse, Azrael pulled out four water stones. "Wear these, and you'll be able to breathe underwater, it's time to hunt us down some goblins!" he told them, and they strung the stones about their necks as they dove in again. The water stones, once held in one's mouth, took water and transformed it into air for as long as it lasted, but once the stone dissolved, you had to pop another in or go up for air. The four adventurers swam through the murky water, looking around for more goblins, but ever shadow that they rushed after turned up nothing. The stones were starting to give out when a large, underwater structure appeared in front of them. A domed building, with four pillars rising from each of the corners, there, gathered at each pillar, were several goblins.

Weeks later.

Karnor's Castle loomed up in the Dreadlands, an immense stone structure dominating the plains extending back from the ocean, whose roar could still be heard despite the howls of yetis, the odd barking of Drolvargs, and the clicking of Drachnid legs. "We're going in there?" Hillodania asked, half unbelieving, half eager. "Yes, I'm not sure if we can survive just by ourselves, so we may have to find some other adventurers attempting to get in there," Azrael said, looking warily at a Drolvarg which had been slinking around them. "Well then, my lord, why not join us? Our guild is headed the same way," a light, lilting voice asked from off to their side. There, sitting on a rock, was a young woman clad in similar armor to Azrael, wielding a fire-sheathed blade, her golden hair cascading down her shoulders, she was the very vision of Erollissi Marr come down to Norrath. Her sapphire eyes regarded the young man appraisingly yet with respect, her rosebud mouth spread in a warm smile, her cheeks just barely touched with a rosy tint that was far from needing rouge to enhance. Her laugh at the other paladin's shock was without derision, light and silvery, filled with mirth. Azrael was unable to get out an answer, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands shaking, his heart pounding. He was broken out of his stupor by a cough from her companion, the ugliest halfling he had ever seen. While most halflings had a pleasant though mischievous expression on their faces, and were friendly and personable, this one looked dour enough to sour ale simply by looking at it. His black hair was ruffled and unkempt, and a permanent sneer seemed engraved on his face, which seemed to have been chipped out of rough granite, by someone who had only a basic idea of what a humanoid face was supposed to look at. His feet were the most horrid feature of all, the nails cracked and twisted, black hair as thick as on his head covered every inch, so that it looked almost like he was wearing boots, and a acrid stench issued forth from them constantly.

"I am Aelyena, my lord, and this is Brochk, my druidic partner," she told them, smiling down at the halfling, who returned her grin with a sour look and he turned his gaze aside and spat, muttering a half-hearted 'hail'. Clearly a devotee of the Unkempt Druid faction, it seemed utterly impossible for a woman like Aelyena to be able to stand his company for more than a second, yet she paid him as much respect as she was showing her new acquaintances. Regaining his voice, Azrael bowed deeply, announcing, "Well met, my lady, I am Azrael Heavenblade of the Knights of Truth, serving the Lightbringer; and my companions are Obelisk, a monk of the Ashen Order, Hillodania, a Scout of Tunare, and Drakana, formerly a devotee of the Lodge of the Dead in Neriak, but she has since embraced the light." Each bowed when mentioned, but Drakana looked even less sure of herself, especially when Azrael mentioned her shadow knight roots. Hillodania had taken to wearing her hair in a ponytail, which she yanked nervously as Brochk gave her a lustful leer, the closest thing he could claim to a positive expression. Aelyena gestured behind her to where a crowd of people could be seen amassing, adventurers running in from the direction of the Frontier Mountains, and Firiona Vie, some even originating from the Burning Woods to the North. "The Army of Light has been looking for new recruits, so if you are currently unattached, we would very much like you to join us. In any case, we could use a few more warriors to join us in this raid, so if you would offer your assistance, we would be much obliged," she told them. Azrael was on the verge of accepting then and there, but Obelisk spoke up before him and replied, "We'll have to think on it, thanks, but we will join in on the raid of that's all right." Aelyena clapped her hands delightedly and exclaimed, "No problem at all! If you will follow me, I'll take you to the guildmaster who will sort you into a group, I hope that you will be assigned to our squad! We would have an even balance then, of warriors and healers, and thus be able to handle a front guard position.

Aegisius, the guildmaster, was a gray-haired paladin who still looked fit despite his years, which showed in his leathery, weather-beaten, but still kind face. He was overjoyed upon seeing Azrael's amulet signifying his connection to the Hall of Truth. "I have longed for another knight of the Lightbringer to join us, your assistance will bring me much courage, and hope that more of our order shall be venturing out into the world, spreading the words of truth!" he exclaimed while shaking Azrael's hand vigorously. Hillodania attempted to hide in front of Obelisk from Brochk, while Drakana hid behind his back from Aegisius. After indeed being assigned to the mismatched pair's group, they began mingling with the rest of the guild as the few last straggling members arrived. Ulic, and Cay, two half-elven twins made quick friends with Azrael. They were both bards, and then two of only five in the entire guild, but the most talented, Ulic playing a cheerful march on his lute while Cay made a counter-point with his drums. While finding the guild members very welcoming and open, Obelisk felt uncertain. While they meant well, most seemed filled with hubris, so sure of their invulnerability, and the skill and might of their guild. Obelisk had seen too many other people with the same attitude bite off more than they could chew and fail, he hoped he wasn't being led into a rout. It was the philosophy of Quellious that kept him from being the same way, he had pride, but luckily he knew his limits, these people seemed not to. After everyone had quieted down, Aegisius announced the battle plan in a clear, strong voice from the front, and then blew a long, resounding note on his horn to start them marching towards the entrance. Azrael sidled up to Aelyena, who smiled up at him and clasped his hand as they both strode into the gates of the ominously dark Karnor's Castle.

The Drolvarg went down roaring, foam sloshing onto the floor from its jaws, and it managed to snare Azrael's hand in its gnashing maw as it toppled. "Ow! Damn mutt!" Azrael cursed, and Ulic snickered from where he was hurriedly removing the Drolvarg's money from its cooling corpse. Aelyena however rushed over to him and inspected his hand. Something in the Drolvarg's saliva was tainted, as the wounds began reddening up and swelling rapidly. "He needs to have someone cast Cure Disease on him, quickly! Brochk?" she called out, and the druid looked up from his spell book, harrumphed, and his head sank back down. Sighing, she did it herself, clasping her hand to his. After she was done, she made no move to remove her hand, instead gazing into Azrael's eyes. Cay and Ulic both chuckled at this, and Cay began reciting a bawdy poem, but was stopped by a glare from Brochk. As the guild began moving down the torch-lit hallway again, Azrael looked over at Aelyena and asked her, "Why is the 'Army of Light' here anyways? Is there some treasure or something here to find?" The woman's warm blue eyes widened in shock. "You do not know? This castle is where Venril Sathir's tomb is reputed to lie," she told him incredulously. Azrael scratched his chin, then added, "So?" Her jaw dropped. "He was the leader of the Iksar for many years, in fact, he managed to unite the five tribes of old! His power was so great, the Ring of Scale took notice, and tried to wipe him out! He was a male skilled in the dark arts, who held many artifacts of power, including much armor and weapons which we intend for our use," she replied. "Hmm, so he managed to gather just about all of the Iksar underneath his banner? Definitely someone to worry about, dead or alive," Azrael said after a moment. Aelyena smiled warmly, and told him, "It is no matter, the Army of Light shall not be denied its prize, there is no foe that has yet to stand up against us!" Behind them, Obelisk winced. His moustache had been bristling ever since they took out the Drolvarg captains in the rooms behind them. A two-pronged attack, they split into half randomly to clear each room. It was without any clear distinction as far as groups went, but their naked power more than made up for any imbalances the lack of certain classes presented. If they keep this up, if we get divided again we'll be wiped out! We should have done a unified attack on one room at a time, that was taking far too much risk, he thought bitterly, and the scowl on his face was enough to tear Hillodania's wary eyes off Brochk and back to him with a worried look in those emerald orbs.

The first tower behind them, the Army of Light proceeded across a long bridge to the main castle. As they entered into a wide courtyard, they heard unearthly moaning and howls around them. A couple ghostly Iksar, and a Sarnak skeleton shambled towards them. Without waiting for a cue, the various clerics in the group all released anti-undead spells, and the courtyard was filled with lavender-blue light as the spells wracked the frames of the Sentries and Callers of Sathir, as well as the skeletal berserker. When they still came forwards, a mass of bodies piled themselves on top of the monsters. What the warriors lacked in finesse, they made up in sheer strength. Azrael and Aelyena were both in the crowd, Azrael's Ghoulbane doing almost as much damage as Aelyena's Fiery Avenger, mainly because at times the woman simply couldn't reach in. Finally, the adventurers withdrew, revealing the crushed corpses of the monsters. The lack of wounds on the guild mates was not because they were very skilled or invulnerable, the undead simply hadn't had the time or space needed to counter-attack, they were simply swarmed under. The spoils carried by each were swiftly removed, and the inexorable wave of conquest continued. The skeletal captains were similarly dispatched, and their few numbers countered their more advanced power. The Skeletal Warlord was next, and he proved more difficult, but the rewards were well worth it. In sifting among the bone chips, Obelisk lifted out a Tranquil Staff, and the rest of the monks accompanying the guild stood around him in amazement, their eyes bulging in envy. One of them, a large and belligerent man with flaming red hair marched up to Aegisius and demanded, "The outsider should give that staff to me! I am the oldest of us here by far, and the monk with the longest member history in the guild! By all rights, it should be mine!" The old man regarded him with weary eyes, and responded, "Then you should remember our rule: Those rare artifacts discovered in guild raids should go to the first person who finds it, or the oldest of able to utilize it. Since he was first and is able to use it, it is his." The red-haired man stood there, flabbergasted, but when he opened his mouth to raise a complaint, the guild leader cut him off with a sarcastic grin, "It's not as if you need more equipment, Raned. No arguments, move to the back, we're about to advance on to the Drolvarg Warlord." Raned walked off with his fists clenched, and aimed a glare every bit as fiery as his hair at Obelisk. The younger monk sighed heavily and hefted the coveted staff.

Apparently, their luck held as the room with the Warlord was cleared out as quickly as before, and a new round of impressive items were visited on Azrael's companions. As the only Shadow Knight there, Drakana was handed the Noctivigant Blade that was found on him. As she placed it away for later use, she smirked at Brochk, who shrugged and tugged his new Kunzar cloak tighter around him, muttering, "Eh, I needed a new one." Ulic had received a Harmonic Dagger that Hillodania had pulled out of the Warlord's belt in the midst of the battle, and was proceeding to use it to gloat over Cay, who promised that he would soon get something that would far outshine his brother's prize. As they walked back down the stairs, glancing down at her recently acquired Mrylokar boots, she murmured, "Looks like my 'luck' is still with me" Her glee faded as they entered the next room. There, they found huge, nightmarish versions of animated hands, their flesh twisted and green, with black, cracked nails, and a huge band of spiked metal around the 'wrist'. With them was a gargoyle-like statue that could startlingly use dark magic. Drakana's ruby eyes widened in shock when a second item was presented to her after the battle, blood red gauntlets, which she hurriedly switched for her old ones. The Blood Ember gauntlets gleamed in the eerie light of the room as she held them up. After they gathered around, Aegisius spoke up above the excited chatter, "All right, everyone! We've cleared this level of the keep with the exception of Sathir's tomb! Now, we shall save that for last, and instead eliminate the denizens of the catacombs!" Rather than groaning at such a bleak proclamation, the gathered men and women cheered. Obelisk was not among them. A current of liquid electricity ran up and down his spine. I don't like this, he thought as they regrouped and headed back for the steps down to the dungeons. I always get this feeling when something dreadful is coming up, but what could go wrong? It's the not knowing that gets me, he pondered as they went down into the darkness.

In between battles, Aelyena sat directly in front of Azrael, almost purring with pleasure as he braided her hair, following her instructions. Azrael himself wasn't sure which he could concentrate on more, Aelyena, or her hair. He loved the feel of it, warm silky golden strands that slipped smoothly over his fingers as he weaved them together. That, and her wonderful fragrance seemed to be especially concentrated within the hair itself. I could do this for hours, Azrael thought to himself, humming under his breath. Abruptly, his left hand began to shake where it was threading a bunch of hair in between two others. Oh crap, Azrael groaned mentally. Soon, the entire arm was vibrating, and Azrael had to release Aelyena's hair and grasp the arm. The aforementioned paladin turned towards him with a confused and worried look on her face, but before she could ask what was wrong, he dashed off a ways into the hallway and into an abandoned room. Peeking through a crack in the door, he watched her race past. Closing the door, he clenched his left arm as it struggled to lash out, whether at him or at Aelyena he couldn't tell, but it was definitely not him controlling it.

After a few minutes, the arm went still. Shaking it experimentally, Azrael sighed in relief, sinking to the floor. As he wiped sweat off his forehead, he reflected, These attacks have been getting worse, and more frequent. Ever since Chthon got free in Innothule swamp, even if it was only for a few minutes, he's been trying to re-exert control. As if it wasn't bad enough having him howling inside my head... As if it was a signal, Chthon's voice bubbled up from deep within Azrael's consciousness, **You're wondering why I'm so "upset", aren't you? It's that bitch! Just one of hundreds you've been throwing at me for the past few years! The only consolation I have is that you're the biggest philanderer this side of the . . . ** Azrael forcibly cut him off, noting almost as an afterthought, Well, if they are on different planes of existence, it doesn't technically count as cheating, now does it?

Finally getting up, he wandered back towards where the rest of the guild was waiting. Aelyena had returned to camp, and was having Drakana braid her hair this time, Hillodania braiding Drakana's behind her, and the circle finally ending with Aelyena again, who braided Hillodania's fiery tresses. All three finished as he stepped closer, and Aelyena jumped up and ran over to him. She started to ask him what was wrong, but her question was lost as Aegisius' horn announced that they were moving into the catacombs. Without bothering to let her ask again, Azrael lead the group off, a dark, haunted look on his face.

Hillodania shuddered as they made their way into a room where a huge Iksar skeleton stood silently. She had even more Mrylokar's armor now, though far from a full set, but Raned had acquired a Baton of Faith, and was occasionally challenging Obelisk to duels, setting their collective mood on edge. Ulic leaned over to her and asked, "Hey, this can't be your first time in a high level battle, can it?" She brushed her coppery locks from her eyes and replied sheepishly, "Actually, it is." Cay's blue eyes matched those of his brother's as they twinkled with amusement. "There's nothing really to worry about, we all attack en masse, all for one, one for all, pure hard core action all the way to the end, then we celebrate!" he explained, waving his sword for emphasis. Hillodania shook her head in half amusement, half disgust, her braid swinging. "You make it sound like a sporting event," she grumbled, and the twins roared with laughter. "In a way it is, we've never lost a battle yet, and since almost nobody ever dies, it is practically just every bit as safe as a refereed sparring match in the arena!" Ulic responded, playing a healing melody on his lute to prepare them for battle. Obelisk ducked another swing from Raned, and looked over towards them darkly. "If only that were so . . . I've got that bad feeling again . . . " he muttered under his breath.

Azrael stood with Aegisius as they prepared to begin the battle. "So, what is it that we have to do? This skeleton doesn't seem interested in us at all," he asked the older man. The guild leader pulled on his long gray moustaches thoughtfully before replying in his quiet, but excited voice. "Ah, your comrade Brochk has a special part in the first phase . . . Brochk, if you will?" The halfling glared at the two humans, spat a glob of greenish-yellow phlegm on the stone floor, then began casting a spell. Fireflies swarmed in from the windows, gathering around the druid's hand. Then, a clear bubble popped into existence around them, forming a makeshift lightstone. The skeleton looked towards him and rumbled, "The living fire. I seek the fires of life. Bring them." Slowly, with great relish, he approached the skeleton with the orb, and carefully handed it to the undead Iksar. The skeleton looked at the orb, intrigued, then, with an almost absurd flick of the wrist, tossed it into its mouth and swallowed it. Spiritual energy swarmed in around the skeleton, much like the fireflies earlier, replacing ancient bone with ectoplasm, until the spirit of Venril Sathir was floating before them. {So mortals, you seek to end the tainting of Tunare's children? So be it, I have no cares. My death has been caused by this foolishness and I want no more to do with it. Bring me a scroll with the knowledge of resurrection so that I may once again live. I will hand you that which you seek.} it roared.

"Now what?" Azrael asked carefully, tightening his grip on his Ghoulbane. Off to his left, Aelyena did the same with her Fiery Avenger. "Now, we give him exactly what he wants . . . " Aegisius replied enigmatically, stepping forward in his worn, but well maintained golden armor. Removing a scroll from a sack, bearing the clerical emblem, he handed it carefully to the spirit, then leapt back nimbly, totally unlike a man of his age should be able to, and raised his hand to signal the attack. All around the room, the clang and hiss of weapons being drawn and wielded could be heard, along with the crackling of spell casting. The eyes of the spirit widened in pleasure as it laughed, a horrible sound, like snakes rustling through dry, dead leaves. The scroll began to glow brightly, and a nimbus of light surrounded the figure, and soul was made flesh, and soon, Venril Sathir stood before them, revived.

Aegisius' hand swung downwards, and cries of valor erupted from every mouth as the newly reborn warlord was swarmed under. Though attacking with dreadful might, flinging attackers backwards, the Iksar seemed weak after his rebirth, and his vigor was swiftly fading. With a final gasping cry, Venril Sathir was dead once again. "That WAS easy!" Hillodania exclaimed, her emerald eyes lighting up in relief. "They toldja so, didn't they wench?" Brochk muttered, clambering on top of the corpse, and started rustling through its body. The adventurers gathered around eagerly, all ready to make claim to the treasure that surely awaited them. Obelisk stood apart from the crowd, leaning on his Cane of the Tranquil. {Something's still not right . . . from what I remember from the legends from the scrolls Hillodania and I got from the monk guild, Venril Sathir was dead, but somehow found a way to return to life, revitalized, and even more powerful from the dark powers from the realm of the dead. This was far too easy, he barely even casted a single spell, where is his necromantic might?} As if to answer his thoughts, low cries of surprise and disappointment arose as Brochk lifted aloft two stones, pulsing in green light. "Where is it? Where is all the treasure?" someone demanded, and shouts of agreement echoed off the walls. In disgust, Brochk tossed one stone to a ranger standing nearby, and the other over his shoulder. It landed near Azrael's feet, and he picked it up, dusted it off, and stuffed it in one of his bags, sure that it might have some worth in the future. Suddenly, the cries of outrage were silenced by a low, long laugh, like that of snakes slithering through dry, dead leaves.

All heads turned to the room in the halls beyond, the very end of the Castle. The laugh grew louder, to a deep, ululating cackle, then fading away, leaving a tense, uneasy stillness. Obelisk's hackles rose, and others looked at each other nervously. Even Aegisius seemed to be feeling the unease, sweating and trembling. The old man shook himself, and with a hard look in his gray eyes, he drew himself upright, and motioned for the others to follow him, in the sign language used for the raid. Hesitantly, the group wandered off into a situation they had not anticipated.

In that last room, with braziers glowing brightly, they saw with a shock, that Venril Sathir was floating in the center, very much alive, his eyes glowing with power. {Idiotsss . . . Thou hast destroyed but a simulacrum, a shadow of my former remains animated for my amusement. Now, thou dost face the real thing, thinkest thou capable of defeating he who had united the myriad tribes of Iksar with solely my magical might? Flee now mortals, or face my renewed fury!} he rumbled, a grim rictus of a grin etched across his scaly face. "This . . . this is not supposed to happen . . ." Aegisius stammered, shaking for real now. "Get with it old fool, we improvise!" Brochk growled, spat, then leapt at Sathir. With a gesture of contempt, the warlord swung his arm around and smashed the halfling across the face, spinning him around in mid-air, and with a sickening crunch, landed with his neck twisted at an odd angle, his eyes glazed and blank. "Brochk!" Aelyena cried, her voice breaking the stillness as effectively as had Sathir done the druid's neck.

Galvanized by that anguished scream, the guild surged forwards. Venril Sathir roared with laughter, and floated forwards, and the battle was joined. The former incarnation they had faced seemed to pale in comparison to that of the true lord necromantic power. The fighters found themselves bound in darkness, their life force drained away, and wracked with disease and poison. As if by blind luck, the tide of the battle turned, if only for the sheer numbers of the guild. Sathir's eyes began to fill with fright as it dawned on him for that every attacker he flung away, two replaced him. {No! I don't want to die again!} he screeched, but it was too late. Venril Sathir was again, now and forever, dead.

"Whew, that was rough . . . " Azrael gasped, going to one knee briefly in exhaustion. Suddenly, his head came up, and he looked around swiftly? "Aelyena?" he called. He found her kneeling next to the fallen body of Brochk. The high elven cleric next to her was chanting a resurrection spell, and soon enough, in her arms, Brochk's corpse stiffened, and his head swung back around to its normal position, though with a sickening cracking noise. His pale skin regained some color, and his eyes shot open. Rather than regarding Aelyena's concerned eyes first, he found himself looking up at a disappointed Azrael. With a look equally as sour, he stood up, kicked Azrael in the knee, and he tottered off to get his pipe, which had fallen off to the side. "Ow! That little . . . " Azrael growled, his pride hurt more than his shin. "Easy, hero. We won, didn't we? Come on, I've got to oversee the distribution of the treasure as a senior officer of the guild. You can help me if you want," she told him, laughing, her long blond braid pulled over her shoulder. Looking into her sapphire eyes, Azrael found his cheeks flaming again, and he nodded. Away from them a distance, Brochk growled at them, then lit his pipe in disgust. Obelisk had mended his wounds, and was currently watching Hillodania get another piece of her armor. Watching her giggle in delight, and listening to the victorious exclamations of his comrades, the burden on his heart eased a little, but that little tingle on his spine remained. {Why is it that since we've joined up with this guild that I feel something terrible is fated to happen? We just won with very little casualties, and we recovered quickly, what is there to be frightened about? But I can't stop worrying . . . } he mused, but he was soon pulled away by both Hillodania and Drakana as the guild strode out of the castle to the heady tunes of conquest.

The rolling hills around Karnor's Castle flickered with the light of dozens of campfires, and resounded with the sound of music. Everywhere could be seen adventurers rejoicing after a solid victory, and feasting on a variety of foods and liquors. Ulic and Cay were providing most of the music, as a couple of the bards were still sidelined with injuries from the raid, but they listened with equal appreciation as the others. Some chose to dance, others listened quietly, but all applauded when they were finished.

Azrael sat in a group a little ways off from the guild officers, accompanied by Aelyena, Hillodania, Obelisk, Brochk, and a regal but aloof High Elven wizard who called herself Piyoa. Ulic and Cay were also supposed to be part of the group, but since they were performing, they hadn't come back to help themselves to the refreshments. Unfortunately, what appetite Azrael and his friends may have had was spoiled by watching Brochk gorge himself. The halfling was as messy a eater as he was with his personal hygiene, and just the sight of his horrid, crooked teeth ripping and tearing at the leg of meat he clutched in his hands was enough to cause nausea in anyone watching, a fact the druid relished.

The music ended, and Ulic and Cay bowed to a roar of applause, and made their way over to the campfire. A sheen of sweat covered their near identical faces, as well as duplicate smiles. "Man, this is some party, huh, Az?" Ulic remarked, elbowing Azrael in the side. "Yeah, sure," Azrael replied with a small smile, a glass of red wine in his hands, not really paying attention to anything except Aelyena. "Say, would either of you guys happen to play instruments or sing? We are short a few bards, and the drum player and lute player are signing off for the night," Cay asked, his unruly blond bangs hanging almost over his eyes as he stared down the selection of delicacies left over. "I can play the drums, sure; Azrael, think you can handle the lute?" Obelisk asked, standing up and stretching. Azrael nodded, slightly overconfidently, his cheeks slightly flushed with rosacia. "Ladies, would you lend your lovely voices to our melodies?" Ulic asked with a lopsided grin. "I would . . . except I don't really have any songs memorized, and it would be difficult to just sing freely," Aelyena admitted, undoing her long blond braid. Hillodania, who had long since undone hers, scratched her chin briefly, then her eyes lit up, and she tugged on Aelyena's sleeve. "I've got some music sheets left over from a bard friend of mine, we could memorize the lyrics to one or two of those, and have the others play the music!" she exclaimed, as the rogue began rummaging through her packs. "Great! I'll get on the notes, you just make sure you have your part down!" Ulic crowed, selecting the music from the lyrics sheets as Hillodania laid them onto the ground.

A distance away from all the festivities, Drakana watched longingly at the revelries. Aegisius had indeed discovered her presence, and although he had given in when Obelisk had asked him to let her stay, she decided to stay apart to prevent tension. It had worked admirably, but she was so terribly lonely out on the hill. She clutched her scar-etched arms around herself and sat down, shivering, as the near Antarctic cold froze her despite her cloak. Her vision was still sharp enough to see Obelisk and Hillodania sitting together around the fire, and she still envied the other woman terribly, and it still hurt like a whiplash when she saw them snuggle close together, and like a spear to the ribs when she saw the flash of the engagement ring. That's what had driven her away more than anything, seeing him propose to Hillodania amidst the cheers of the guild, her heart had nearly wrenched itself in two when the wood elf had accepted. Her ears twitched as she heard the first strains of a seemingly familiar tune floating across the crisp air.

On stage, Azrael, Obelisk, Ulic, Cay, and a couple other bards were performing an instrumental piece, which had such a homespun, warm sound that everyone was struck with reminders of their homelands. Offstage, Aelyena and Hillodania were rehearsing the lyrics to their song, their heads close together, golden hair flickering with red highlights due to both the firelight and the equally flaming locks of her partner. After the piece had ended, the guild once again erupted in applause. Then, everything fell to silence as Aelyena and Hillodania strode up on stage, their faces alight with joy and anticipation. The hush was broken as the band started up again, this time in a melody that nobody had ever heard before, an oddly alien tune, somehow familiar, but with a style not familiar to Norrath. Singing in a duet, the two women began after the first few chords:

Thought that I was going crazy Just having one of those days yeah Didn't know what to do Then there was you

And everything went from wrong to right And the stars came out and filled up the sky The music you were playing really blew my mind It was love at first sight

'Cause baby when I heard you For the first time I knew We were meant to be as one

Was tired of running out of luck Thinking 'bout giving it up yeah Didn't know what to do Then there was you

And everything went from wrong to right And the stars came out and filled up the sky The music you were playing really blew my mind It was love at first sight

'Cause baby when I heard you For the first time I knew We were meant to be as one

And everything went from wrong to right And the stars came out and filled up the sky The music you were playing really blew my mind It was love at first sight

"Love at First Sight" is copyright of Kylie Minogue.

As if spurred on with some unknown energy by the strange but beautiful song, many of the guildmates stood up and started dancing with a fervor they had not known before. But one person was not so happily affected by the song. For the first time in years, Drakana felt hot tears coursing over her cheeks. Togetherness, that was something she had always lacked. Alone in a crowd, even in her childhood. As a noble, she had first had to deal with it because of class, then later as an outcast. Seeing the euphoria of the others was almost too much to bear, as they played in perfect harmony. {How much longer can I deal with this? It's a reminder just to look at the both of them, oh father, mother, it hurts so much . . . } she thought bitterly as sobs wracked her frame.

As the last notes faded away, there was an uproar of applause as everyone came to their feet and cheered. Flushed with excitement and pride, Azrael and the others all bowed, then took their leave. As they stepped off the stage, Aegisius stopped Azrael with a hand on his shoulder. The old man's eyes were filled with tears of joy, and he told them, "I've never heard something so wonderful in my entire life . . . the music, the words, everything fit together . . . I would be overjoyed if you would perform again at the celebration after we take Sebilis." Azrael clasped the guild leader's hands in his, and replied, "We'd love to." Aegisius gave a grateful smile and patted him on the shoulder and sent him off to his camp.

Brochk looked up with a sour look as everyone walked back in, his eyes glaring icily at Azrael and Aelyena, who were holding hands and laughing together. As they sat down, and stared into each other's eyes, he got up, grunted, and walked off into the darkness. He picked up a piece of fallen wood not far out, and took out a knife and started whittling it. It was his sole real talent, woodcarving, and he swiftly carved it into the shape of Azrael and Aelyena, in the same pose he saw them as he had left. He hadn't noticed, but his wanderings had taken him close to where Drakana was trying to calm herself down. She spotted him immediately, and faded into the shadows, but kept a close watch on him. With her elven hearing, she listened with horror as he began grumbling, "S'not fair, how dare 'e come in an' steal 'er away like that? Most beautiful woman on the entire bloody planet, and she don' care a whit about my appearance, or attitude for once in my whole bloody life. Coulda kept other men away from 'er indefinitely, but 'e just wouldna be scared off, the bugger. Hah, split 'em apart, just like I did the others. An' if he don' wanna be split, maybe I split HIM instead . . . " With that, he tossed the sculpture in the air, and whipped out a scimitar and cleaved it in half, the wooden Aelyena falling one way, and Azrael the other. He stared at the representation of the human man contemptuously for a few seconds, then brought the scimitar down on it as well.

Final Chapter: Two Weddings and a Funeral

Drakana couldn't believe what she was hearing, as rage welled up within her. She had been right about him from the start . . . he was going to endanger not only the life of one of her friends, but the success of the upcoming raid on the city of Old Sebilis and the dragon Trakanon. Still, she knew her limits, he was more experienced than she, and he was fully rested, while she still hadn't regained the use of her Harm Touch spell, and had left her armor and weapons behind at the camp, all he would have to do would be to cast a few spells . . . As silently as she could, she hurried back down the hill towards the rapidly darkening camp as fires were doused in preparation for sleeping. She made herself appear once more when she neared the camp to alert the sentries that it was indeed her approaching, not another monster, and they waved her in, frowning at the tightly controlled expression of anger and fear on her scarred face. As she stalked through the camp, she realized that she had forgotten where Azrael and the others were. As she made another turn, hoping she was heading the right way, a voice spoke from out of the darkness, "Where are you going in such a hurry, Teir'Dal?"

Freezing, she saw the aged but still fit frame of Aegisius rise up from the ground to stand before her. By far the most experienced of the group, having reached his sixtieth season years ago, she was sure she'd stand no chance against him, a few months shy of her forty ninth season herself. Nonetheless, she marshaled her courage, and told him with a voice that faltered only a little, "I've got to tell you and Azrael something very important, you've got to listen to me! I know you don't trust me, but Azrael's life is in danger!" The paladin waved his hands in a calming gesture, saying, "Whoa, girl! Slow down, explain everything from the beginning!"

And so she did, retelling how she had seen Brochk sneak away from the camp, how he had carved the statue, issued his ultimatum to himself, then symbolically split the statue in half, being sure to break the half that represented Azrael. She told him that it was her opinion that consumed with jealousy, Brochk would try something either very soon, or at the worst possible moment during the upcoming raid, when Azrael would be sure to be off his guard.

Aegisius sat down slowly, accommodating for his age, stroking his beard thoughtfully. After a moment's reflection, he said to the young dark elven woman, "This is not the first time that Brochk has tried to repel men away from Aelyena. To be honest, the only reason I have kept him around is because I need her as one of my officers. When she first joined our cause, it was with great misgivings that I accepted her companion as part of our guild, but only on her oath that he would serve us loyally. I believe that it is pity that caused her to become his friend . . . You see, she had rescued him from near death in Runnyeye Citadel years ago . . . and the wretched man was so grateful to her that she allowed him to travel with her forever afterwards. The only shred of decency in him appears when he is alone with her . . . otherwise, he is the foulest thing I've ever had the chance to come across, Teir'Dal not included. Over the years he's been with us, no member of our guild, indeed no man ever has he let near Aelyena in a bond closer than that of an acquaintance or guild-mate, either driving them away by sheer disgust, or by force. Though he has never actually killed anyone, it seems as if he's changed his mind. Very well, I shall keep a close watch on him, be sure to tell Azrael to keep his eyes open as well."

Relieved, she turned to go, but he called after her, "How did a noble like you come to join us in the first place?" NOBLE, that word froze her to the core, bringing back memories that she had buried deep for so long . . . fancy soirees, the burdens of custom and tradition, the intrigue of the courts, and the final betrayal from that tangled web they called nobility . . . that had left her an outcast, her former beauty altered by the maze of scars tracing over her skin.

"Wh . . . what do you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence. The old man pointed to her long ears, where three earrings glittered in each lobe. "Your jewelry, girl. You see . . . I've studied the Teir'Dal extensively . . . Know thy enemy, isn't that what they say? Dark elven commoner women, the concubines and the peasants, don't get to wear more than one earring, to do otherwise would mean harsh punishment for trying to rise above their class. Merchants and adventurers are better off, for they get to add another earring as a symbol of their freedom, but they still are not afforded that many luxuries. Three earrings though . . . that's the mark of nobility no doubt about it. The only woman who gets to wear more is the Queen. Now, most noblewomen are forever occupied in their manors, either aiding with the business and court intrigue of their husbands, or forever engaging in repetitive works of art and poetry. Either way, you would have been living in the lap of luxury for the rest of your natural life . . . but we instead find you here . . . your talisman of Innoruuk suspiciously missing . . . and scars covering your entire body . . . tell me why," he explained, leaning back onto his pallet.

Tears wanted to surge out of her eyes at the mention of her buried past, but she steeled herself and replied, "Well, if you know that much about us, surely you've heard of the exile of House X'Bael?" The human man scratched his chin again, then raised his eyebrows as it dawned on him. "So that's where I heard the name before . . . They were supposed to have gone to Najena within the Lavastorm mountains . . . but all the children of the family were said to have been killed . . . You're supposed to be dead, girl," he muttered, looking at her with interest. A brief smile flickered across her indigo lips before she replied, "The only reason I'm not is because of Obelisk. He . . . saved my life, and I can never repay him enough for that. I thought I loved him, and that he loved me back, but now? I realize that he does love me, but not like I want, not as that of husband and wife, but that of a younger sister, someone who needs to be protected and loved . . . but never romantically." Tears finally started trickling down her cheeks as she laughed bitterly. "So, what do I do now? I've followed him along these past few years because of this bond, but it's weakening with the appearance of his . . . his fiancée. Do I stay with him as his little sister, or be forced to be alone again?" she said, trying to wipe clean her crimson eyes with one hand.

Aegisius was silent as the dark elf tried to get herself under control, but he got up with a grunt and dried her tears with his own handkerchief. To her amazement, he placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder and clasped it tightly. "Trust me, girl. From an old man who's raised three daughters of his own. Its understandable to want to be close to a man who brought you back from the brink, out of fear that without him, you'll go sliding back in again, and with Obelisk's personality, its hard to not be attracted to him. But you need to find a man who will not only treat you right, but fit your personality. You seem to fit the reserved side of his personality, but he's more vivacious than you are. My advice to you is to stick with him for now, but keep your options and eyes open, who knows? You might very well find another dark elf who shares your same sentiments, though I'm not sure if any of them will share your devotion to the light," he told her, squeezing her shoulder one last time before laying back down and going to sleep, muttering one last time, "A dark elf in love, what an incredible thing!"

Thinking on the older man's words, Drakana reflected upon Obelisk's earlier suggestion...if his mother was as tolerant as he was . . . could she truly have a family again? In her mind's eye, she imagined what his mother would be like, most likely a pleasant woman, the jovial but orderly matriarch of the family . . . who would care for a lonely girl as if she was her own. Her mind was made up, she had lost one family, but she had the potential to find a new one. After a few more minutes searching, she found the camp. Obelisk was there, holding Hillodania in his arms, while Azrael and Aelyena were cuddled in a similar pose a short distance aways. Ulic and Cay were sleeping on identical sleeping pallets, under identical blankets. A quick look around told her that Brochk had not returned yet, and that Azrael was still breathing. She stepped close to him and checked him carefully, making absolutely sure he was fine. {It's really too bad he's taken now . . . he's nearly as handsome as Obelisk,} she thought to herself, looking at his peaceful, untroubled face. She walked back over to where Obelisk and Hillodania were lying, and with a sad smile, she traced the line of his jaw with a scarred finger before going to a short distance away where she could keep watch for a certain murderous halfling . . .

Azrael awoke to the rise of the sun, the rosy light covering the camp as the fiery orb rose lazily into the sky over the snow-covered hills. He was surprised to find Aelyena still in his arms, sleeping with a contented look on her angelic face. His mouth forming a small smile, he smoothed her hair back with one hand as he let sleep's effects fade from his body. {I feel . . . refreshed, for once in a long time. Sleep is often troubled for me . . . but this time I slept with a clear conscience. Aelyena . . . why am I at peace whenever you are around? My heart feels lighter, as if you have given my soul wings. Love at first sight . . . you certainly picked an appropriate song to sing last night,} he thought to himself as he admired her features, holding her close to him as he stroked her cheek with his free hand. Somewhere off to his right, he heard a muffled yawn.

Looking in that direction, he saw Drakana staring off in the direction of the hills with an exhausted look on her face, as if she had stayed awake all night. Her eyelids looked leaden as she gazed haggardly but determinedly outward from the camp, as if expecting something to show, but it hadn't yet. Azrael scanned the camp for each of his companions, finding each in turn. Ulic and Cay were tangled together in a mass of limbs, dark and light haired heads close together, as if they had engaged in a subconscious wrestling match, indeed, from the bruises on their bodies, they had. Drakana was still playing at being a guard, though she looked like she would fall over backwards any second from now. Behind her, Hillodania and Obelisk were still curled up in each other's arms, peaceful . . . for the moment, at least, until the rogue woke up. But one person was missing from their original squad of six . . . Brochk the druid was gone, his filthy rag of a blanket lying crumpled by his things, almost indistinguishable from his regular clothes, they were so tattered. Not that Azrael missed the halfling . . . far from it, but having him gone was suspicious, for either he had wandered off somewhere in the night, or he had been attacked and drug off by some denizen of the night. He hoped it was the latter.

Others were beginning to wake up now, and in short order, cooking fires for breakfast were being lighted, adding their light to the morning glow. Sighing reluctantly, Azrael gently set Aelyena down and crawled over to their own cooking fire and got it started. Almost immediately after he had cracked the cockatrice eggs into the pan, Ulic and Cay were up faster than two shakes of a Iksar's tail, expectant smiles on their faces as they scrambled to get their plates and forks. Azrael's head ached from the slight hangover he had gotten from the drinking last night, so he took advantage of the large fire to put on a kettle of herbal tea . . . griffon's root, to not only deaden the pain, but to leach what was left of the alcohol in his system. As the smell of the cooking eggs and the bear bacon he added a short time later reached Hillodania and Obelisk, the young elven woman's eyes snapped open, and quicker than even the bardic twins, had her plate and utensils out and ready just as fast as she could even sit up. "Did someone mention breakfast?" she asked rhetorically, looking down at the skillet impatiently. "Is it done yet?"

Soon, Aelyena and Obelisk were woken up by the commotion, and Azrael stepped away to sip his tea in peace. He stepped over to where Drakana was crouched, her Dark Reaver the only thing keeping her upright at this point. "Hey," he whispered, squatting down next to her, and snapped his fingers in front of her unresponsive eyes. Slowly, the dark elf turned her head his way stiffly. "You're . . . all right . . . didn't . . . see . . . him . . ." she muttered before she toppled backwards. Azrael caught her just in time, somehow managing to keep his tea from spilling at the same time. He could see the grayish circles under her eyes, made more evident by her scars . . . she must have been watching the camp all night . . . but for who? Who was 'him'?

"'Ey, if yer going to be holding that inkie like dat, what bizness do ye have wit Aelyena, den?" a rough voice called, causing Azrael to look up. Brochk stood a short distance aways, holding onto a wood statue of Aelyena . . . the very one he had split during the night. "What business I have with her is just that, my business. Stay out of it dirtball, or I may just use you for target practice," Azrael growled in return, glowering darkly at the druid. The halfling snorted in derision, and muttered under his breath as he walked back towards camp, "Yer welcome to try laddie...yer welcome to try."

"How much longer do we have to carry her?" Cay whined, his arms trembling from the strain of hefting the makeshift hammock that Azrael had put Drakana in, as it swayed between him and Ulic, who voiced no complaint, but sweat was clearly visible on his face. "At least until she wakes up, come on, we're almost there," Azrael called back over his shoulder where he walked with Aelyena. They had been trudging through Trakanon's teeth for a while now...having to stop occasionally to dispose of the Froglocks, Trakanasaurs, man-eating plants, and sabertooth tigers that occasionally accosted them. "Man, I'm glad that we went through the trouble of getting all the necessary parts for the idols ahead of time, it would be a hell of a time getting it for close to two hundred people just as we arrived here . . . we'd be sitting in this area for weeks!" Ulic exclaimed as they neared the ruins of Sebilis. The moss-covered buildings and pillars cast an aura of gloom over the ruined city, as spectral Sarnaks and skeletal Iksar flitted from one shattered edifice to another. After swarming over several creatures that resembled spectres, they made their way into a room where an Iksar ghost floated, and the adventurers started to hand in the medallions of Kunzar and Nathsar that had been collected piecemeal months before the guild had even considered exploring the ruins. The first person to receive the idol from the ghost of Emperor Ganak and enter Sebilis had barely gotten out alive, gibbering of Froglocks, skeletal Iksar, sentient mushrooms, gigantic scarabs, clay golems . . . and something sinister bellowing in the deep. It could only be the dragon of legend . . . the very one that had nearly crushed the Iksar the centuries past . . . the undying dragon of poison . . . Trakanon.

It became eerily quiet as the Frenzied Pox Scarab ceased its clatter as its death throes subsided. Azrael leaned over his new Nathsar's greatsword in exhaustion. He hadn't been using a two-handed sword in a while, and he had forgotten how much more tiring it was to swing one. He was about to ask someone to cast an Invigor spell, but Aelyena was there in an instant, and energy flooded his body. Rather than saying thanks, he lifted her gauntleted hand in his own and raised it to eye level. Their eyes met over that metal-clad fist, blue and green alike sparkling. Their faces grew closer together as the hand lowered, and their lips met in a soft kiss. But this romantic moment was interrupted with a whoop of exuberance from near the kill. Several monks were grumbling as they shoveled their mystic dice back into their pouches, as evidently, an excellent monk item had been found. It became clear when Azrael stood up straight and saw Raned twirling a rune-covered staff above his head. Obelisk, having already gotten his Tranquil Staff earlier, was leaning against the wall of the room with a look of disgust on his face, his moustache twitching. The reason for his grimace became evident as Raned sauntered over and began gloating. Azrael couldn't make out what was being said over the din of their prong of the raid, the other two thirds had already gone on ahead, but something was up as Obelisk's face grew darker and darker, Raned's own expression matching it. Finally, whatever argument was going on came to a boil, and Raned swung his staff at Obelisk's head. The other monk dodged it, and moved out into the center of the room where an open circle was swiftly formed, blocking the two combatants in, but also locking Azrael out.

A staff battle was now in progress, the two mighty rods smashing together at great speeds. Though Obelisk's staff was heavier, it struck with more force than Raned's lighter but quicker staff. Obelisk whirled his staff and attempted to slam one end against Raned's knee. The other monk saw it coming, blocked it, and riposted with an upward thrust to Obelisk's chin, which he luckily dodged. Raned's thrust to Obelisk's solar plexus was turned aside, and he caught a blow on his elbow as he tried to withdraw the staff. Another whirlwind of spinning staves erupted as the two monks attempted to strike each other, but succeeded only in hitting each other's staves, creating quite a show for the guild members.

Azrael could see that for now, it was purely a contest of skill, but Raned's face was turning from confident to furious, and he was worried that it would go from a sparring match to an actual duel to the death. As he tried to find a gap in the crowd, he bumped up against Drakana, who was also watching with interest. She had woken up just as they entered the underground city, and after a quick Invigor spell, she had been going almost non-stop, and strangely enough, she had nearly begged to be placed in the division that Azrael was in, and had been attempting to protect him furiously throughout the day, totally unlike her earlier behavior of avoiding him. She looked up at him and smiled briefly, then looked back to the duel. She had acquired a few more pieces of Blood Ember armor, and much of her earlier Darkforge plate had been replaced. She still lacked arm- plates or the breastplate, but he was sure she'd find more of the dark red armor here . . . red like . . . blood? He saw that her armor was slick on the wrist with what he realized was blood, her blood.

"You're wounded! Why didn't you ask to be healed?" he asked incredulously as he began to cast a healing spell on her. She looked down at her wrist in surprise and murmured, "Oh . . . I guess I didn't even notice." "How could you not? You're bleeding like a stuck pig, it must hurt a lot . . . " Azrael snorted, as the wound closed over. Drakana touched a red-plated finger to her chin and remarked, "Nah, I don't feel much of anything, at least not physical anyways . . . " As the healing spell concluded, Azrael looked at her quizzically. "What . . . do you mean by that?" he asked. The dark elven woman admitted with some sadness, "Well, since I was . . . scarred, I can't feel anything on my body, nothing, even below the skin's surface. The nerve damage is that complete. Not even . . . there." "Does that mean you couldn't feel . . . well . . . you know . . . ?" Azrael continued, blushing slightly. Drakana nodded, her own cheeks turning slightly violet. Azrael removed her gauntlet and bracer and looked critically at the skin, which although it had been healed, hadn't removed the old scars there. He pressed experimentally on her forearm and asked, "Can you feel this?" She shook her head slowly. He moved his fingers up to a point near her elbow and jabbed his finger in on a specific point. "Not even this?" he asked. Again, the shadow knight shook her head. Azrael released her arm and scratched his own chin in thought as she put on her armor again. After a few minutes . . . he asked her, "I have an idea . . . maybe if we have some free time later on in the raid we can try it out, as I think I have a way to fix your nerves . . . it may not heal the scars, but we can at least try, can't we?" Drakana got a hopeful look on her scarred face, and was about to reply when shocked cries turned their gaze back towards the fight.

Obelisk had been struck a major blow on the side of the head, and was spitting blood out onto the stone floor. Bruises covered his body, and while Raned was similarly damaged, he was still standing, though somewhat woozily. A thrust to Obelisk's chest, and he was driven back into a wall, hard, as the crowd had to part to avoid being hit. Raned's staff spun as he rained blows onto Obelisk's battered body. As he raised his staff to land a final blow, Obelisk's own staff came up and struck Raned squarely under the jaw. Obelisk's wounds closed as his Mend skill activated, and he pressed his newfound element of surprise as he pressed Raned towards the opposite wall. As Raned was pressed up against the stone, Obelisk's staff began to glow brightly. Obelisk cried, "One Hundred Blows!" and magical force like that of dozens of fists plowed out of the end of the staff, striking Raned rapidly, over and over, spinning him around swiftly.

However, unexpectedly, the stone wall behind him began to crumble with the force of the impacts, and a massive hole was revealed. Raned was driven through the hole, and into a deep pit headfirst, and then heard him cry out as he struck his head and then fell silent, though several additional thuds were heard then stony silence. "Was that supposed to happen?" people asked, checking into the pit, but only the curved surface of a tunnel was revealed at the end of the deep fissure. "Great . . . he's probably unconscious and lying in some forgotten passage somewhere below . . . We'll pick him up when we get down there if he's lucky, otherwise we'll have to pick him up after the raid is over," their group leader, the wizard Piyoa told them as she started off down the hallway again. The high elf was intellectual and regal, but seemed stuffy and reserved, but strangely enough . . . she looked somehow familiar to Azrael, her snow-white hair gathered back in a looped ponytail, it was something in her ice-blue eyes that reminded him of someone he had met earlier on, but the person's name and appearance eluded him. {I think I've been hit on the head too often, I should remember this without any trouble,} Azrael thought dejectedly as he followed along.

The rest of the series of hallways for that section was cleared out, and they joined up with the rest of the guild, and briefly rolled dice for items, and many exchanged hands. They all headed back down to the entrance, and it took some doing, but they all managed to get through the underwater passages to the lower level of the city without clogging up the path. Brochk was forced to go last, as a viscous green trail of diseased-looking slime was left in his path as his filth washed partly off him. He smelled a great deal less stinky, and his skin was cleaner, but he was still extremely ugly in spite of his 'bath'.

The underground paths were explored extensively, but Raned was nowhere to be found. Aegisius admitted to hearing rumors of forgotten, walled off tunnels for when the Iksar dynasty still inhabited these caverns, before the Ring of Scale forced them to evacuate. Trakanon had led the attack, he and his serpents had slaughtered much of the Iksar before they could flee, and their ghosts and restless skeletons were all that remained of their legacy. Aelyena shivered as she told Azrael the history of the city as they ventured further into the caverns. "Trakanon isn't like the dragons we faced on Antonica . . . he's from an older, deadlier coalition of dragons, the legendary Ring of Scale, from which Nagafen and Vox rebelled from. Venril Sathir was emperor then . . . if Trakanon could deal away with him like that . . . I shudder to think of how we'll deal with him," she explained to Azrael, shivering in part excitement, part fear. Azrael held her tight as they continued down, remarking, "We'll find a way . . . hopefully."

As they were getting down the final pathway over some water, Obelisk finally couldn't stand it any more, and shouted, "Hold up!!! Strategy meeting, right now!" "Strategy? Why?" a couple people asked, confused. Aegisius made his way over with Aelyena and the other officers, and they formed a rough circle off on one side of the walkway. "All right, what is this about? We've faced off against dragons before . . . Nagafen we defeated in under a few minutes, with almost no casualties . . . " Aegisius began to tell the younger man, but Obelisk cut him off. "Didn't you hear Aelyena earlier? This is one of the ancient dragons, not like the younger dragons that left for Antonica. Plus, your usual 'swarm-em-under' tactic won't work here. We've at least got to set up some sort of a healing plan, and separate the casters from the tanks, so that they won't get hit with the breath, and for Quellious' sake, please have them try and cast some damage over time spells!" Obelisk shouted, as the other officers mulled over his words. Finally, Aegisius acquiesced. "All right, change of plans, people! This is what we're going to do . . . " he told his officers, and went over how to divide up the healers to the different groups, and where the casters should be placed. Reasonably satisfied, Obelisk went back to his place, but the lingering feeling was still there.

As the guild started down the ramp, a humongous clay golem rumbled up towards them, followed by a Froglock clad in a fancy robe. The Sebilite Protector lumbered forward at the command of Tolampumj, and rushed the guild, but many weapons and spells nearly ground the golem into dust, and he was plowed over as the adventurers swarmed towards the enchanter. Tolampumj shrieked in horror, and started to cast a spell, but the enchanters in the guild hit him with their own mesmerization spells, and he stood there, stunned, as the warriors reached him.

Piyoa won the robe the Froglock had been wearing, after it was thoroughly cleaned off. Obelisk stared into the space of the enormous cavern, which loomed up in front of him. His sense of danger hadn't faded, he realized, it was screaming louder than before. The intensity grew as they moved into the misty cave, where he could hear strange hissing sounds, and the sound like flapping of great wings . . . Suddenly, a roar like none he had ever heard pierced the stillness. The mist began to clear, and a massive body was revealed before them, starting with the reptilian head, filled with teeth. Trakanon was crouched directly in front of the guild, his mighty but frayed wings beating the air to clear His body was horrid, his muscle and bone showing through in places, and when he breathed, a poisonous gas spewed forth rather than fire. {This is it . . . this is the source of the danger,} Obelisk thought to himself as he heard Aegisius shout, "ATTACK!!!"

At the paladin's command, the casters immediately fanned out around the dragon even as the warriors rushed forward, each small clump accompanied by a few healers. Dolstoi, a Barbarian warrior, was the first in the charge, and he leapt with a roar at the undead dragon, but was met with an equivalent roar from Trakanon and the dragon clamped its tooth-filled jaws around the man and lifted him into the air. The other fighters surrounded the dragon and immediately started wailing away with everything they had, striking at any spot that seemed vulnerable. Trakanon was no slouch at fighting though, for even he worried the warrior viciously in his maw, his tail and talons flew like threshers through the gathered adventurers. His serpentine neck proved an efficient weapon as well, spearing three warriors and a bard on its spikes.

Obelisk pounded furiously at the dragon's body, and he felt the tough flesh yield somewhat to his force, but the dank green scales refused to let pass without significant effort the weapons of his comrades. The monk leapt into the air and struck the dragon at the base of its throat with a mighty kick. He was rewarded for his efforts with being smashed aside by Trakanon's horned head, sending him flying to the cavern wall, where he slid down into a slump, his head swimming from the impact.

Hillodania had applied her best poison, Amnesiac Lolium, to her dirk, but she was unable to discern if it had any effect when she plunged it into a rotted point in Trakanon's limbs. The fast-acting venom caused a sufficient amount of damage just entering a body, but its deadly compounds swiftly wrought great harm in under half a minute. It seemed as if the dragon had noticed however, as the great lizard's tail lifted up and headed her way in an upward sweep, her luck allowing her to dodge it just in time, but the golden sparks flashing across her eyes didn't prevent the rocks falling from the ceiling caused by the impact of the massive tail onto her, though she was luckier than most, she was simply knocked unconscious.

Drakana was covered with blood, but she didn't care. She acted as a shield to several wounded guild members fighting close behind her, the dragon's claws digging deep into her body, but she ignored the stiffness that the wounds caused and continued her attack. The intensity of her injuries wasn't known to her except when her vision started to blur, and her movement began to slow despite her determination. This opening was all it took for the dragon to slam her to the ground with its forearm. And unlike before, she did not get up. Unfortunately for the two men and one woman she had been guarding, they were now wide open.

Despite the ferocity of the dragon's attacks, the situation was still fairly under control thanks to the frantic healing by the various clerics, druids, and shamans scattered around the battlefield. But, even with mana regeneration spells and careful heal rationing, they were swiftly running out of mana, and occasionally the dragon caught sight of the blue sparkles of their healing spells and singled them out, creating a great disadvantage to the warriors under their aid.

Thoughts flew through Azrael's head as he expertly dodged another of Trakanon's swipes. {This isn't turning out well . . . the healers should have stayed further back . . . but we're all crowded in here like sardines . . . I can barely find room to dodge in here . . . Unfortunately its getting easier as more people are falling. I lost contact with Aelyena, I hope she's all right,} he wondered as he swung the greatsword and cleaved off a chunk of the dragon's leg. As more warriors fell, the ancient dragon began to notice someone it wasn't hitting . . . Azrael himself. The sockets where his eyes used to be glimmered with sickly yellow light as he focused on attacking the paladin with his massive jaws. {Why hasn't he used his breath yet? He must be pretty confident that he can get rid of us without it . . . } Azrael thought to himself as the dragon tried to take his head off with another snap, but succeeded only in losing a tooth on the paladin's tough shield hung on his back.

Aelyena was protecting Brochk as the two attempted to work their way over to some more of the officers who had been cornered in one part of the cavern. Aegisius was holding his own, but his gray hair was matted with blood, most of it his own. As Aelyena limped over there despite the injury to her leg, Brochk hung back as he noticed Azrael being singled out by the dragon. A crooked smile spread across his face showing his cracked and stained teeth as he got a horrible idea. He dashed around to the paladin's back and waited for the right moment. He wasn't disappointed, as the dragon began to inhale deeply. As Azrael attempted to move out of the way, Brochk cast a wind spell which drove him in the exact opposite of where he wanted to go . . . directly into the corrosive stream of poison gas.

The green cloud filled the cavern, and the remaining guild members either collapsed or choked on the poisonous fumes. Though several had prepared with resistant equipment before, the breath finished off many. At this time, however, Obelisk regained his concentration with his mend skill and dug Hillodania out of the rubble. As her eyes opened, she saw something that she would take to her grave. Azrael stood somehow in front of the triumphant dragon; half the skin on his face melted away, his armor hanging off him in twisted pieces of metal. His sword had been lost somewhere, and his fists twitched weakly at his sides. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the one eye that was still open was reddened from the gas. As the dragon prepared to slay him, something changed and it halted in shock as that very eye underwent a terrifying metamorphosis. The iris first turned as red as the whites around it, but those whites darkened to black. The armor that Azrael was wearing, meant to be used only by paladins, clattered to the floor of the cavern, as if thrown off by some unholy force. Black flame began to swirl around the man, and his mouth twisted into a grin as he started to walk over to where Drakana lay. The dragon and the other guild members watched, spellbound, as the changed man dug out Drakana's former armor out of her backpacks, and lifted free her Noctivigant Blade into his hand. "But . . . that's only useable by shadow knights! What's going on?!" Aelyena cried in horror, as Aegisius held onto her, afraid himself, as he replied truthfully, "I have no clue, but may Marr protect us from what is occurring!" Obelisk could only stare in silence as the pool of blood on the ground began to slough off of the adventurers on the ground and move towards his longtime friend. As the blood melted into black flames which flowed around the shadow knight, incredibly healing his wounds, Hillodania whispered in shock, "This . . . is what happened in Innothule Swamp so long ago? I hadn't believed it when he told me . . . That isn't the man that I know . . . "

Obelisk called out to him, "Who are you, and what have you done with Azrael?" The man turned his crimson on obsidian eyes to the monk, and the pure hate, rage, and sadness that poured out of them was enough to stagger him back. The former paladin's grin widened, as he proclaimed, "Indeed, I am not the man you once knew!" With that, he unexpectedly plunged the Noctivigant Blade behind him, skewering Brochk, who had stood there in shock. The druid's eyes widened as he gripped feebly at the enormous sword embedded deep in his bowels, only cutting his fingers on the sharp metal. With a cruel smile, the shadow knight planted a foot squarely on the halfling's own feet, and yanked upwards on the blade. His scream cut off in a wet gurgle, the druid was cut nearly in half just like his body as the blade cleaved through first his ribcage and then through his neck and out the top of his head. To finish the job, black flame erupted from the human's hand and started to consume the corpse.

"Brochk!!! Who...what are you? You are not the man I love!" Aelyena shouted, then stopped herself as she realized what she had said. The shadow knight roared with laughter, then replied, "Got that right, bitch! I am Chthon Ebonshadow, and I am free again! First, this dragon shall fall, then I shall kill every one of you!!!" Without pausing from this threat, he rushed the dragon, darkness and disease spells leaping from his hands. The dragon was broken out of his stupor with the renewed assault, and he attacked his now sole antagonist, but the demonic man avoided most of his blows, and what damage he did sustain was regenerated from black flame which flowed to him as the shadow knight cast lifetap spells on the dragon.

Though frightened by this turn of events, the Army of Light took this chance to heal their warriors and revive those that they could in a short amount of time. Aelyena rushed over to where what remained of Brochk's remains, but the black flames prevented her from reaching in and saving him. When they finally faded, and she reached through, her touch reduced the pitiful frame to dust. Brochk could not be resurrected from this. Tears streamed down her face, but she wiped them away as she stared back at the dark warrior who had somehow taken over the body of her lover. {There must be some way to free him from this . . . creature's grip! I will save you, my love, but first we must defeat this dragon!} she thought to herself as she ran back to the battle.

With the renewed forces attacking him, the dragon became frightened as its unlife was now being swiftly drained both from the wounds it was sustaining at a rapid rate, but as its very life-force was being drained away by the man with the glowing red eyes in front of him. In a last-ditch fury, he head-butted Chthon with all his might, sending the evil man flying towards the cavern wall. However, the shadow knight plunged straight through the wall into another hidden tunnel, removing him from battle, but it was too late for Trakanon, as Aelyena ended its foul existence via a final slash to his spine.

The guild members stared incredulously at the dead dragon, but started cheering after the shock wore off. Brochk's treachery and Chthon's manifestation had saved the raid from nearly wiping out . . . but what had been wrought because of it? Brochk was little more than ash, and the being that had taken over Azrael had disappeared off to parts unknown. Aegisius, Drakana, Hillodania, Obelisk, and Aelyena all looked at each other as the Army of the Light cried its victory. "We few are the ones who saw this happen . . . I think it would be best if we kept it secret . . . we should not cause a panic until we can discover the source of this . . . transformation," Aegisius told them, keeping his voice down, and the other four nodded, but Aelyena soon turned her sapphire gaze to the revealed tunnel. {Azrael . . . } she thought to herself as she stared into the darkness.

"I never thought sunlight could feel so good!" Ulic exclaimed as he felt its rays cascade over his face. People all around were busily cleaning themselves off and congratulating each other on what items they had won, indeed, almost everyone had walked away with something. The bard had 'died' in the assault, but he had been summarily revived for the final assault. But there were a few people who weren't happy. Drakana sat on a stump, mulling over the Blood Ember breastplate she had been given as part of the dragon's treasure trove. {Should I be glad I have this? Its mine only because of some sort of demon taking over the body of the man who promised he would try to return feeling to my limbs . . . And now he's disappeared . . . will he come back, and even then, will he attack us? This Chthon . . . who or what is he, and how did he manage to take over Azrael?} she wondered as she absently polished the smooth metal. Obelisk and Hillodania clung to each other, sitting down on the sun-warmed jungle ferns covering the ground. "Did you know about this?" Hillodania asked him, not needing to specify what this referred to. Obelisk lowered his head briefly, then raised it again. "Before I came here, I had been searching for Azrael after he had left without much explanation when we were still both inexperienced. I finally found him, standing on the side of a mountain, but he was shaking . . . shaking violently, now that I think about it. All around him were blackened bodies . . . and when he saw me he ran. I tried to follow him, but he evaded me. I thought it had been due to a magic user attacking him . . . but what if it wasn't? Those farmers . . . could it have been this . . . Chthon? I didn't know it then . . . but it must have been the same event . . . " he told her, then broke off and fell silent into thought.

Aelyena stood apart from the guild and searched through the ruins. People had asked her where Azrael went while they were incapacitated, but she had no stomach to tell them. She hoped that she could find a hidden passage, and search through it to find Azrael...or this Chthon person to force him to change back. Her need to do so was removed when a fallen pillar rolled aside to reveal a darkened tunnel. Out of it stepped a battered, but otherwise unharmed looking Azrael, it was he, for although his eyes were tired and troubled, they were as green as the plants around him. He carried a pack on his shoulder, out of which poked a Runed Fighter's Staff, and Drakana's Darkforge armor and Noctivigant Blade. " . . . Azrael?" Aelyena asked, but he said nothing, and continued to walk towards her. She almost reached for her sword, but all thoughts of fighting fled her mind when he let the pack drop and he embraced her tight. "I'm sorry . . . " he murmured, and held her closer. "I have so many questions . . . " she whispered to him, but he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. "I'll explain it in due time . . . all you need to know for now is that . . . he . . . is under control," he replied. Her gaze went down to the bag, and focused on Raned's weapon. "Raned?" she asked. "I . . . . didn't find him. All I found was this pack, his staff . . . and a pile of ash. I can't say that he's still living . . . something must have gotten to him," he explained, as he picked the pack up again and continued back to camp.

People waved happily as he walked in, but his friends watched him return warily, comforted only by Aelyena being unharmed. Without a word, Azrael tossed the Runed Fighter's Staff to Obelisk, and gave a deep, meaningful nod to him, which the monk returned. The paladin next dumped Drakana's armor and weapon on the ground in front of her and sat down on the other end of the stump with Aelyena. The rest of the resting period continued in uneasy silence, though soon the other guild members started up the festivities.

Azrael was sitting silently among his friends as they made preparations for the upcoming song. Hillodania and Aelyena were expected to sing again, though Drakana had suggested surprisingly that she might join in as well. All three women were flipping through Hillodania's collection of song lyrics, setting aside some and putting away others, their heads close together, gold, silver, and reddish bronze hair glinting in the firelight. People had been coming up at random and asking him if he had seen Raned when he was down in the catacombs, but Azrael always had one answer: no. But rather than being disappointed by such news, many seemed relieved. Evidently, Raned was not well liked, even among his fellow monks in the guild, they thought he was too arrogant. But what Azrael had said was not entirely true...he [i]had[/i] seen Raned down in the darkness...through the eyes of Chthon.

A few hours earlier...

Raned came to, aching all over, especially his head. He reached back to rub his aching skull, and his hands came away spotted with blood. He looked up and saw a faint light coming from far above where he had first fallen through the wall. Unfortunately, the tunnel was too far above his head to reach, even jumping. "It would just figure that he had gotten a weapon with a magical attack..." he groaned, remembering the Tranquil staff's Hundred Blows effect. He healed what wounds he could with his mend skill, which had replenished itself while he was unconscious. "Now where am I?" he asked himself as he lifted a lightstone out of one of his packs as he looked around the catacombs he had fallen into. He heard a crumbling sound off in the distance...like a wall shattering. Maybe his guildmates were coming to find him! He picked up his staff where it lay next to his feet and hurried off in that direction. He ran through the tunnels until he came to a open cave. In the center, a man was slowly standing up.

Raned was about to shout out a greeting, but stopped as he lifted the lightstone higher. The man's armor, which he had taken for blackened iron or enameled at first was pure jet black, a sure sign of Darkforge armor. Also, the man's left arm was horribly twisted, the elbow bent back the wrong way, and the hand dangling limply from a broken wrist. The man's right ankle was also twisted, but he stood on it with seemingly no pain whatsoever. As the monk looked upwards, he noticed with a shock that the man's sword, a Noctivigant Blade, was imbedded in his side, as if it had been driven into him by falling on it from the side. Blood was steadily pouring from the wound, but the man paid it no mind, and in fact wrenched it out without so much as a grunt. He made as if to walk back towards where Raned could see another pinprick of light in the distance, but a "Are you all right?" escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The man stopped dead and slowly spun around. Raned could only let out a gasp when he saw Azrael's face staring back at him, but set in that face were two evil eyes...black with red irises. His jaw was obviously dislocated, but he still grinned in a horrible rictus and started shambling towards him, broken bones grinding, but that awful smile never left his face. Raned backed up slowly, hefting his staff as the Shadow Knight kept shuffling his way. "Azrael?" he asked hesitantly, but mentally slapped himself, this wasn't the paladin he had seen earlier, whoever it was seemed to be wearing the paladin's face like a mask...fitting too perfectly. He started to turn to run, but he stopped and smiled a bit to himself, thinking, {Wait...why should I flee at all? This guy's nearly dead himself...if I can kill him I can get his stuff and find out what happened to the real Azrael while I'm at it!}

With that, he ran forwards, and swung his Runed Fighter's staff swiftly at the man's head. Enchanted wood met flesh with a great impact, and the shadow knight's head spun around, the neck making disgusting cracking noises, but he spun his face around, still grinning. Raned gasped in horror, but the man's right hand shot out faster than he could dodge, and grasped his silk fighting tunic. In an attempt to make him let go, he spun the staff into the man again and again, but the evil man began to laugh, deep in his throat. Raned abandoned all notions of fighting and tried wrenching himself free, but the man held him in a grip of unholy strength. He smelled something burning, and looked down at his chest. Black flames were starting to seep out of the man's hand and were charring his tunic, and starting to sizzle the flesh underneath. He screamed in pain as more flames started down at his feet, and starting hitting the shadow knight with all he had, but nothing seemed to work, in fact, the man seemed to strengthen as the flames grew. His jaw suddenly straightened with a crunch, and his smile became perfectly aligned...a cruel smile. "Who are you?" Raned shrieked as the ebon flames started consuming him in earnest. But a chuckle was his only answer as the midnight inferno totally surrounded him. Before long, all that was left was a dried, charred corpse.

Chthon admired his newly healed limbs, standing tall and strong once more. With a sneer of contempt, he tossed the body onto the ground, where it disintegrated into a pile of ash. One of the monk's packs had somehow fallen to the side, and his staff was still there. The shadow knight's grin widened, and he bent to pick both up. But suddenly his face contorted into an expression of surprise and pain. His right arm began shaking uncontrollably as golden sparks began to pour out from underneath the black armor. With a growl, he clamped his left hand down on it, but the sparks just spread to that arm as well. "[color=red]No! I will not go back! You cannot jail me again, Azrael![/color]" he cried as the sparks steadily surrounded him, the black armor starting to fall off, clattering to the ground. One could see, with his eyes wide open in pain and rage, that the right iris was turning green, the black turning once again to whites. "[color=red]I deserve freedom, can't you see that?! I am a living being as well![/color]" he screamed as his eyes turned entirely to green, and he fell silent. The human man stood there, gasping, as beads of exertion appeared on his brow, and he slumped to one knee from the effort. Azrael opened his eyes after a few minutes, and said softly, "No...you are a demon."

The paladin stood up and looked down with a sickened expression at the armor and ash lying on the ground. "I was too late..." he murmured as he knelt and lifted a pile of ash into his fist and let it fall. He lifted his right hand to his forehead and said, "May you find more peace in the next life that you had in this one, my brother, amen." Sighing heavily, he gathered up the Darkforge armor and the staff and sword into the bag, and began walking towards the spot of light that Raned had noticed earlier. He came out into the cave, and noticed Trakanon's decaying corpse. "Well, they succeeded at least," he said to himself, but the guild was long gone. His armor was lying a short distance away from the dead dragon, and he went over and strapped it back on. He started to leave when he heard a chorus of croaking start as the Froglock survivors came down to investigate. As silently as he could, he ran back to the tunnels, and dodged into the darkness before he could be spotted.

Azrael was shaken out of his remembrance by Ulic as he handed a lute to the paladin. "Its nearly time for the performance, are you up to it? You look kinda sick..." the bard told him, looking concerned at his pale face. Azrael shook off his daze and nodded, taking the instrument as they made their way to the stage where Hillodania and Drakana both stood at the front of the stage, and Obelisk, Cay, and Aelyena prepped with the instruments. Azrael gave a questioning look to Aelyena and she whispered to him, "[i]With the song we chose, we felt it was more appropriate if those two sang it, rather than Hillodania and I again.[/i]

As the music started, Hillodania announced to the gathered adventurers, "This song goes out to a man who's very special to the both of us, who has brought love and light into our lives, and saved us from misery." Drakana then followed up with, "In other words, he set us free." Then, as the music picked up, Hillodania began with the first verse, Drakana picking up the second, then they began singing in a duet for the chorus:

[i]Can't you see? There's a feeling that's come over me Close my eyes You're the only one that leaves me completely breathless

No need to wonder why Sometimes a gift like this you can't deny

'Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings And time held its breath so I could see, yeah And you set me free

There's a will There's a way Sometimes words just can't explain This is real I'm afraid I guess this time there's just no hiding, fighting You make me restless

You're in my heart The only light that shines there in the dark

'Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings And time held its breath so I could see, yeah And you set me free

When I was alone You came around When I was down You pulled me through And there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you

'Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings And time held its breath so I could see, yeah And you set me free[/i]

[small]"You Set Me Free" is copyright of Michelle Branch, Warner Bros. Publications, and Maverick Records, so please don't sue me[/small]

As they fell silent, cheers exploded from the crowd, as people actually stood up to applaud. Hillodania bowed dramatically, but Drakana just stood with her hands clasped in front of her, her cheeks flushed slightly from the accolades. Azrael felt the small, hard object in his tunic pocket, and smiled half to himself. "[i]What better time than now?[/i]" he asked himself in a whisper as he stood up and moved to the front of the stage. The guild quieted down in anticipation, and Azrael proclaimed, "I also have an important thing to say, but instead of a song, its a question, to a woman I love." Aelyena gasped from where she stood, and moved out from where she had been playing the flute to stand in front of him, her heart pounding. Azrael went down on one knee in front of her, and her pulse quickened, as she thought to herself, {By the goddess, is he going to say it? Lady of love, I hope so!} In a voice loud enough to carry to the crowd, but not to the point of straining his voice, he asked her, "Aelyena, will you marry me?" as he produced a diamond ring from his tunic pocket. Her breath caught in her throat, she found she couldn't speak, so instead, she held out her hand, and Azrael slid the ring onto her finger. She then knelt with him, and kissed him. Taking this as the affirmative it was, the guild cheered once more.

As they gathered around to congratulate them, Hillodania and Obelisk moved off to the side, knowing they could talk to him later. "He just had to show us up, didn't he?" Hillodania asked her own fiancé jokingly. Laughing, Obelisk ruffled her hair and she giggled, hugging him tightly. As they looked out to the happy couple, Obelisk told her, "You know I think I can relate to Azrael, for I think I was in love with you from the moment I saw you." The wood elven woman looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and jabbed him lightly in the stomach as she snorted, "So, you fell in love with my cute butt first?" Obelisk chuckled at her comment, but shook his head, and continued, "No, it was earlier than that. I was barely into my fifteenth season when I saw a vision walking past me in the West Commonlands. It was you, on your way to some errand or another, but you stole my heart and carried it with you as you walked, as if you had pick- pocketed it with those sly hands of yours. It was at the Lake of Ill Omen that I saw you again, but I was sure once I saw your face that you were that girl." Hillodania thought back herself, then blushed deeply as she realized what night that had been. Obelisk noticed this, and asked her, "What's wrong?" Hillodania composed herself, then shook her head and smiled, suggested, "Its nothing really, it looks like the crowd's tapering off, so how about we go talk to the newly engaged?"

Weeks later...

It had taken some doing, but the Firiona Vie guards had finally agreed to let Drakana come and go as she pleased, though they still glowered behind her back. She kept walking past the bank until she came to Obelisk's house, where she and the two couples were living now, as they sent out invitations to the weddings. They had decided to perform the ceremony for Obelisk and Hillodania in Kelethin, then go on to Freeport for Azrael and Aelyena's wedding, and it was there that she would meet Obelisk's parents. Her heart still pounded when she wondered how she would be received, but her trust in Obelisk kept her from running away. It was today that Azrael had said that he would help get her sense of touch back, but she had been unable to find him, after making a full round trip of the outpost. She came into the townhouse to find him crouching in front of his bags, holding onto a thick book, and searching for something else. He found what he was looking for, and pulled out a tangled and twisted branch. She was about to ask him what was so important about it, when he seemed to notice her presence and stood up and spun around to face her. "Ah! There you are! Let's get started whenever you're ready," he exclaimed.

Drakana looked critically down into the pool of water that looked deep enough to submerge not only her but several other people as well, as Azrael poured several packets of herbs into the water, but kept the book and the branch on the side. Nodding to himself, the paladin stirred the powders into the water with his Ghoulbane, muttering several incantations under his breath as he worked. He stood up finally and stretched, his joints cracking, as he told her, "Its ready, get in." She looked first at him, then back at the pool as she asked incredulously, "An herbal bath is going to heal my body? I thought you said..." Azrael smirked, and replied, "Its far more than that I assure you. This is the legendary Lazarus Pit technique...originally it was meant to regenerate lost limbs for soldiers, even bringing them back from the brink of death, but I can't see why it wouldn't do the same for your nerves. There's more to it than just the plants, but I can't do the rest until you're in it."

Drakana blushed deeply, looked at the pool one more time, hesitated, then with a determined look, started taking off her armor. She stopped when she came to her blouse and gave Azrael a smoldering look when she saw him watching. He grinned gently, and reminded her, "Drakana, I [i]am[/i] engaged you know, besides, I have to see you to do the magic." Still slightly indignant, she nonetheless continued stripping, pulling the shirt over her head and stepping out of her leggings and boots. She stood nude before the bath and looked to Azrael for direction. He waved towards the bath, and instructed her, "Step into the pool until the water is up to your neck, and when I tell you, take a deep breath and duck under the water, and do NOT come up for air until you feel my hand on your shoulders."

Obeying his words, she stepped carefully into the water and moved out slowly towards the center, where the water came up first to her waist, then to her breasts, and finally to her chin. She was only standing there a few seconds when Azrael asked, "Ready?" She nodded, and Azrael snapped his fingers. Taking a full breath, she ducked under the water, closing her eyes tightly. Azrael held the book open and started reading from it, holding the odd-looking branch out in front of him. As he went through the spell, he thought to himself, {I wonder how many uses are left for this thing...I hope its more than just a couple more...} Still, he didn't let his concentration slip and he went on with the ceremony. Glowing runes started to appear on the branch, and after the last word was uttered, Azrael tossed the branch in.

Under the water, Drakana was wondering what was going on. Her thoughts were slowing, a sure sign she was starting to feel the effects of the lack of oxygen. She was going to go up to the surface, when she heard something splash right in front of her. Unexpectedly, the water around her started to glow, and her thoughts came back to the regular speed. As the glow intensified, she thought to herself, {The water feels...warm, somehow...wait, the water feels warm?!} She opened her eyes and felt them sting a bit due to the water, but she could see just fine, as if she was floating in air. Though her scars were not disappearing as she thought they would, she began to start feeling warm all over, starting at the crown of her head and the bottom of her feet, spreading to her heart. She wanted to try grasping one arm with her hand, but she remembered Azrael's warning and floated motionless in the pool. The warm feeling began to intensify, and Drakana reveled in the sensation, the first time in years she could ever feel anything other than emotions. She was almost in ecstasy when something started to feel...wrong, as the warm feeling spread inward to her core. When it reached her heart, the warmness abruptly turned cold and the glow around her went from blue to a sickly green, then red, finally to black. The warmth faded and she started to feel cold. She started to panic, but forced herself to stay under the water, though her uneasiness grew. She then felt something large splash into the water behind her, and she felt hands take hold of her arms and start dragging her to the surface. She kicked with her feet to help, and took a huge breath of air as she came out of the water. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Azrael looking back at her with fear on his face as he helped her out of the pool.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly as he handed her a towel, looking at the pool, which had turned a murky gray, the branch floating lazily on the top, the glow faded. She took the towel gratefully, then when she actually [i]felt[/i] the softness of it, she started crying tears of joy. "Oh, Azrael, I can feel again! I can feel everything!" she choked, clutching the towel tightly to herself, rubbing her face into it, luxuriating in the reborn sense. "Thank you!" she cried, and leapt to her feet and embraced him. Azrael's face grew shocked when he realized he was holding a naked woman, but he held her right back, letting her get all her emotion out. Finally, he coughed, and remarked, "You might want to finish drying off and get dressed before we tell everyone the good news." She looked down at her unclad state and yelped, toweling herself off in a hurry, then started to throw her clothes on.

As she was putting her armored boots on, she felt a strange pressure in her feet, as if something had pierced her there, but she didn't feel any pain. Frowning, she took off first the armor, then the leather boot itself, and turned her sole towards her face. There, a sharp rock picked up from the floor had embedded itself in the ball of her foot, and blood was welling up. With a moue of displeasure on her still-scarred face, she picked it out and tossed it away. As she applied a bandage to the minor wound, she wondered why she couldn't feel the pain there. After she was fully re- equipped, she paused, then experimentally pinched her face. Nothing. She felt the pressure of her fingers, but there was no sensation other than that. "That's odd..." she remarked as Azrael looked over from putting away the book, and he left the branch where he had set it down from drying it off, the glowing marks faded by this point.

"What is?" he asked, walking over, as she was still poking at herself. "I can feel pressure...but I'm not feeling any pain...I wonder if the ritual didn't work all the way..." she responded, not looking at him. Azrael's own face darkened slightly, as he mused, {I wonder if her necromantic magic affected it? It was meant to only be used on those who followed the path of light...} He then took a hold of her cheek and pinched it hard, then gasped. She started to say, "No, I already tried that," when she noticed the surprised look on his face. He had clasped his hand to his own cheek, and when he withdrew it, there was a red mark...just as if someone had pinched him there. A terrible insight grew in Azrael's mind, and he took out a small dagger, and asked, "May I try something?" holding it to her left ear. "Sure..." she replied, confused. Very carefully, he nicked her long indigo ear just in the middle of the lobe. Almost instantly, an identical cut appeared on his own ear. She stared at the blood in horror and asked the paladin, "What happened? Why are you hurt as well? I didn't feel anything...but..." He touched his ear as a bemused look came over his face as he muttered, "Of course...it's reflected..."

He looked back at the dark elven maiden and explained, "Remember how I told you I was a little afraid of using this on you as it was meant just for humans, their variants, and elves of the lighter paths?" She nodded as she took another bandage from her pack and dabbed at his ear, ignoring her own. "Well," he went on, "I think that since you're both a dark elf and a shadow knight, your dark heritage warped the magic slightly. Though most of your sense of touch has returned, any injury you sustain from others will be duplicated on their own body." She thought to herself for a moment, as he cast a minor healing spell to heal their light cuts. "Does this mean that if I'm injured or killed, my attacker would be taken with me?" she asked, him, going over the implications in her head. Azrael thought on that for a minute, scratching his brown hair, then shook his head. "I think it'd end up being a game of endurance...if your enemy is stronger than you, he might be able to just outlast you. I have no idea if he'd die if you did, but lets not find out, shall we?" he told her, and she seemed satisfied. She could stand waiting no longer, so she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed off to tell everybody. Azrael smiled slightly, and then went back over to where the Branch of Life was lying. "Just what did happen?" he asked himself as he looked at the enchanted plant, then put it away in the secreted pocket he had drawn it from.

A few months later...

Obelisk gazed up into the treetops of the Greater Faydark forest, and try as he might, he couldn't see a patch of sky, the trees were so thick. "This is a good place..." he said to himself as his eyes returned to the hustle of arriving guests, his own parents were not among them...yet. They had accepted his engagement without question, as they trusted their son's judgment, but they had said in their RSVP that they wanted to watch the ceremony themselves, and would catch the next boat over. As there were wizard spires and a druid ring in the area, most of the guests for both weddings would be arriving here first, then they would be going on to Freeport for the next one. He had seen most of his childhood buddies already, but he was expecting closer friends to be showing up soon. He was not disappointed as he heard the lift start up once more, and after a few moments, Nixxius and Lupin's faces came into view.

"Congratulations, old friend! Its really too bad I can't pinch that cute bum of yours any more!" Nixxius exclaimed, clasping the monk in a warm hug, the people around them looking at the wood elven man strangely. "I'm sure you'll find another young man...or woman to do that to, but remember, I am getting married tomorrow!" Obelisk said, laughing, as he extricated the bard's arms from around him. Lupin's lips faintly went into a smile, but they went back to being calm as he said softly, "He wanted to grow a moustache or beard to imitate you, but I said it was foolish, and it didn't look right even after he tried." He truly did begin to smile as Nixxius looked back at him in mock displeasure, but then immediately turned back to Obelisk and began asking him a barrage of questions.

Azrael was waiting at the other lift to greet the other guests, and surprisingly, Piyoa was standing there with him, carefully marking down the guests' names into a registry book. The high elven wizard was often as icy as her hair, but she truly enjoyed doing things that involved writing, keeping track of things, making lists, learning things, Azrael thought she'd make a good librarian if she stopped being a wizard.

"Azrael, darling!" came a shout from in front of them, and they both looked up, Azrael's face brightening, and Piyoa's face falling as they saw Nedra rushing towards them. The enchantress leapt into Azrael's arms, nearly spinning him around, and he laughed at her enthusiasm, but Piyoa was backing away with a sickened look on her face. Finally, Nedra pulled herself away from the paladin and winked at him. "So, another woman has stolen your heart before I could! Oh well, so long as you are finally in love, I so hated to see you lonesome," the high elf told him, her violet eyes glowing warmly. Piyoa was looking around desperately for an exit, but with the crush of people around, she was trapped. The reason for her displeasure became clear when Nedra caught sight of her and exclaimed in shock, "Sister!!!"

"Sister?!" Azrael asked in amazement as Nedra dashed over and clasped Piyoa in a tight hug, causing her to drop the registry. "I finally found you again! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me!" Nedra exclaimed, rubbing her cheek against her sister's. Piyoa smiled weakly, and muttered, "I was." Azrael walked over slowly, his jaw hanging open, as both women turned their heads to look at him. There was no mistake about it, aside from their coloring and style of hair, the two high elves were twins. He tried to say something, but they both said at the exact same time, "Its a long story." After Nedra finally released Piyoa, the wizard swiftly retrieved the registry and furiously tallied up the names that she had missed while replying to the questions Nedra asked her without even looking. Azrael thought to himself in amusement as he watched the pair, {They're as different as the moon and the sun, but I see now why I saw so many similarities between them...I'll have to ask one of them to explain it to me sometime.}

A discreet cough from behind him caused him to look over his shoulder, and he saw Aelyena standing there, smiling at him. She came over and took his hand in hers and kissed him, then asked, "How are things going, future husband?" Azrael smiled, and replied, "Fairly well, it looks like the guests are *ahem* getting along quite nicely." However, at the mention of 'future husband', Nedra's ears pricked up and she hurried over, leaving Piyoa alone, much to her relief. The high elf planted herself squarely in front of Aelyena and blue eyes met violet as the two women looked at each other. "So," Nedra said after a while, "It looks like Azrael does prefer blonds after all." Rather than asking what the enchantress was insinuating, Aelyena grinned back, and replied, "That he does. You're Nedra, I take it? He told me so much about you." "Did he?" the elven woman asked with an arched eyebrow, and the two women then walked off, talking animatedly. Azrael heaved a sigh of relief. Even after a few years apart, the enchantress was still a ball of energy, but he felt livelier in spite of himself just by having met her again.

Drakana appeared ill at ease around so many Feir'Dal, but she wasn't afraid by any means. Thanks to careful questing by herself and Obelisk, she had satisfied the guards and merchants that she was no danger to any of them, though a good number still fingered their weapons whenever she walked past. She had come down to wait with the monk for his parents to show up, but she had to force herself not to show her pain every time a guest came up to offer his or her congratulations. It was getting late, and most of the guests had gone off to get something to eat. They were about to leave when they heard the lift start up again. Drakana's heart started pounding, and she got up shakily, looking like she wanted to backpedal at any second, but Obelisk squeezed her hand reassuringly as the platform came into view, bearing his parents. Soun and Nodoka had come wearing their next to finest clothes, and they came forward and hugged their son tightly. "I'm so proud of you son, you'll have to take us to meet our future daughter-in-law immediately," Soun told him, as Nodoka started telling Obelisk all about the dishes that she had arranged to fix. "Before I do that, there's someone I want you to meet, Drakana?" he said, calling back over his shoulder to the shadow knight. Drakana froze at his voice from where she had been taking slow steps back, but shyly came forwards to stand in front of them. She couldn't help but look down at her feet in nervousness, but she felt Nodoka's kitchen-worn hand under her chin as she lifted the dark elf's face up to hers. "My goodness dear, he wasn't kidding about your face...it must have been rough, but you can be sure that you'll always have a place with us," the older woman told her, studying the scar patterns. "Y-you mean it? You'll...adopt me?" Drakana asked, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. "There's no need to cry, dear, we feel like we've known you our whole lives after reading Obelisk's letters! You may have lost your family, but you have a chance to have a new one with us, what do you say, hon?" Nodoka remarked, wiping the tears out of the dark elf's eyes. "Yes!" Drakana choked in emotion, as she embraced her new mother tightly. Soun came over and hugged his new foster daughter as well. Even Obelisk joined the group hug. "Well, it looks like we've gained two daughters for the price of one," Soun said with a chuckle after they had separated, lighting his pipe. "Dear!" Nodoka exclaimed, but he only laughed harder, puffing to get the tobacco going. "Well, let's go meet Hillodania, shall we?" she said, and all four of them walked up the ramp in the direction of her house.

Azrael, Hillodania, Rosace, and Epineux all looked up when they walked in. Hillodania immediately got up and ran over to embrace Obelisk. "Hello again...future sister," Drakana said, causing Hillodania to look over at her with widened eyes. "You mean it? They accepted?" she asked, and Drakana nodded, sniffling slightly from her earlier cry. Hillodania laughed and hugged her future sister-in-law tightly, as Obelisk's parents went over to introduce themselves to Hillodania's. They were a quick match, as before long, Rosace and Nodoka were poring over the recipe sheets for the wedding, and Epineux was lighting up his own pipe filled with tobacco from Soun's pouch. As the two oldest women started preparing dinner, Epineux looked out the window with a sudden sad look on his face. "What's wrong, Dad?" Hillodania asked, from where she sat with Obelisk at the dinner table. "I wish your sister was here...but she never replied to the mail I sent her...in fact, we haven't heard from her in years...and while she may be far away by now, she's usually so regular about these things..." he replied. "I'm sure she got the letter Dad, she just probably is so wrapped up with her adventures she can't spare any time to sleep!" Hillodania replied, but her face was concerned too at this news.

After dinner was done, they were chatting for a while when the door burst open to admit Nixxius, Lupin, Ursus, and Zektoll. "Bachelor party!!! Lets go!" the bard shouted, and Ursus waved two tankards almost as large as kegs in agreement. "Oh boy..." Obelisk and Azrael said in unison as they were ushered out the door.

"Is that tea ready, Azrael?" A small group of men sat huddled around the table of one of Kelethin's inns, as a teapot boiled on a small fire set carefully into a pit imbedded in a wooden counter. Zektoll, Nixxius, even Obelisk had blankets wrapped around them, as they suffered through their hangovers, while Azrael stood shakily next to the teapot, waiting for it to perk. "Not yet, just a bit more," he called back, blinking blearily at the pot. Eventually, the teapot shrieked and Azrael whisked it off the fire, though he nearly spilled some of the tea in doing so. Taking a pad from a shelf, he held the lid down while he poured the tea into four mugs, and placed them in front of each man, taking one for himself. As they waited for the tea to cool down, Azrael muttered to Obelisk, "You planned this, didn't you? It would take one day for the guests to arrive and the bachelor party, a day to recover, and the third day for the wedding." Obelisk nodded, but regretted the move as a twinge of pain spiked through his head. Gradually, the tea cooled down enough for them to start drinking, and as the griffenroot herb sank in, they all started to look better, though they refilled their cups a few times.

After they were all feeling relatively level-headed, Azrael asked each in turn, "Can you remember anything of last night?" Zektoll shook his head, the high elven magician appeared especially vexed by this fact, as he usually had a phenomenal memory. "Not a bit," Nixxius replied, peering sadly into his mug. "Me either, why do you ask?" Obelisk queried. Azrael got a worried look and gazed cautiously towards the door. "If we were that drunk, I shudder to think of what occurred in that tavern last night...I just hope whatever it was, its not something that the ladies will be mad about today," he admitted, and the other three all shivered as each thought of the possible consequences. Nixxius looked around for a second, then asked, "Where are the others? I know Lupin doesn't drink, but what about father Zelphanus and Ursus? They both drank the most of any of us...I can remember that at least." Azrael thought for a bit before responding, "Well, Dwarves are naturally gifted with tough constitutions, so I'm willing to bet he can do that on a regular basis and not feel any ill effects, and Ursus...well, with how much he eats every day, I wouldn't be surprised if his metabolism can just support that much because its in proportion to everything else he consumes." The others nodded in agreement with that conclusion, but in that second, the door burst open, and Hillodania, Aelyena, Nedra, and Mistii all walked in. All four women had similar looks of disgust on their faces. {Uh oh...} the men thought in unison as the women stepped forwards and said together in one voice, "We've got to talk."

The next day...

"Ach, I didna think ye would be able to make it to today's ceremony, lads," Zelphanus remarked as he carefully donned his priest's vestments in the men's changing tent. Obelisk winced from where Azrael was helping him adjust his ceremonial monk's clothes, both still had lingering bruises on their cheeks. "I'm glad everyone accepted you as best man, Azrael, I feared greatly what would happen if Nixxius was up there with me," Obelisk told the paladin as he tightened the fasteners at the hem of his pants. Azrael snickered, and replied, "I can imagine, he'd probably start crying and say he couldn't let you go through with it, that he loves you too much." All three men rolled their eyes in amusement at that mental picture. As he finished with Obelisk's suit, Azrael stood up and adjusted his own ornamental armor. It wasn't his own wedding armor, that had already been crafted, and was waiting in his room, but the mainly silver armor glinted and sparkled impressively nonetheless. Unlike armor one would usually wear, the formal armor consisted of just a breastplate, gauntlets, a model sword that looked fancy, but was meant only for show, and shinplates. Fully dressed in his robes, Zelphanus coughed, and told them, "Oi'll be up at th' podium, thankee for the apple boxes, by th' way, just wait 'ere for th' music ta start, that'll be yer signal t' walk up th' aisle, and when the music changes, that'll be when the bride'll come in. Relax and enjoy yerselves, laddies, nothin' to it!" He then waddled out the door of the tent, stroking his rust-colored beard in anticipation, his book held in his left hand.

"I wish I had his confidence," Obelisk grumbled, taking a seat on the bench. "Oh? I'd think you'd be pretty comfortable with it, since monks are often called on to perform wedding ceremonies for those who follow religions other than those of common cleric or paladin guilds," Azrael asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's just it! I'm usually on the other side of it!" Obelisk exclaimed, knuckling his moustache. "You'll do fine, I'm sure, where's that Obelisk calm? You're marrying a beautiful woman who loves you very much, what's to worry about? There's no problem with her parents or yours, the other wood elves have all given their blessings, so what's the matter?" Azrael told the monk, slapping him on the shoulder. "I guess you're right, but..." Obelisk started to reply, but at that second, the music started up and he paled considerably. Forcing him up, Azrael moved him out the door and into the clearing where the marriage was taking place.

They had chosen this spot for its ability to accommodate a large amount of people, and because it was amidst the trees of the forest, a must for any wood-elven wedding. Several arbor arches had been set up, decorated with a variety of ivy, and other hanging plants, including many flowers. Instead of pews, there were rows of benches arrayed out in front of the stage where the podium had been set up, where Zelphanus had set up, the holy book spread out on top, though he had to perch on top of a couple of crates of fruit to match the height that a human or elven priest would be standing at. Though Azrael had to keep his hand on the other man's shoulder, Obelisk managed to walk in a composed manner up to the podium, where he moved off to the right side, and waited while Azrael moved off to where the best man was supposed to wait.

Obelisk's face went even whiter as Azrael withdrew his support, but he managed to stand there without trembling. Zelphanus' wink didn't help much at all to comfort him. As he composed himself, the music changed to the bridal procession theme, and if his face had been pale before, it was milk- white now. Turning with Azrael as tradition dictated, he looked towards the last few rows as the bridal procession came into view. Hillodania walked in front, flanked by flower girls, her face radiant, dressed in a beautiful sky-blue dress, flowers threaded in complex braids through her hair. Beside her walked her father, dressed in his own ceremonial clothes. Behind them came the bridesmaids, Drakana, Nedra, Mistii, and Piyoa. Obelisk noted that Lupin was the ring bearer, and walked last with great dignity, dressed in druidic robes, embroidered in silver and gold.

Obelisk's eyes began darting, as if looking for an exit, but Zelphanus cleared his throat noisily to warn him against it. But as Hillodania came closer, he found calmness settling over him, and he greeted his bride with a smile as she came up the stage. As everyone got into place, Zelphanus shook his arms out in readiness, and began, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered 'ere today t'witness th' union of these two people in matrimony. Never before have I had th' privilege of leading a ceremony where there 'ave been so many guests of different races and backgrounds, and it pleases my heart to see y'all together in a gathering of such peace, tranquility, and love." He paused dramatically, then asked, "Who brings this bride t'be married?" Epineux stepped forward, and proclaimed, "I do, as her father." Zelphanus inclined his head in honor of the bride's father, then proceeded with the invocation.

"Today we join two very different people in marriage. As unlike as they are in personality, they 'ave found common ground in their preferences and in their souls. Though unusual as a union between human and elf once was, race matters not in love, so long as two people's hearts are united, it breaks down all barriers, even tha' of faith, as indeed, th' two deities of th' bride and groom are as disparate as one can get. One values mirth and deception for amusement, th' other...tranquility, peace, calm. But Bristlebane and th' Tranquil have shown their acceptance for these two t'be wed, and we now ask for their blessings of this union," Zelphanus read, then bowed his head, as the bride and groom immediately followed, along with the gathered guests. After a moment's prayer, he continued, "Now, we honor those who while not 'ere in body, are present in spirit. The grandparents of th' groom were unable to attend for reasons of their health, but they send their best wishes to th' couple. Also, th' sister of th' bride was unable to attend, for as yet undisclosed reasons, but we are sure tha' such a devoted sister would wish her sibling well in this ceremony." Hillodania looked down at that last sentence, ahead of the usual moment of silence, but raised her gaze quickly for the next part.

Looking carefully at bride and groom, Zelphanus asks them both, "Are ye ready t' be joined in holy matrimony?" "I am," they answer almost together, look at each other in surprise, and then back to the cleric, Hillodania laughing softly behind a daintily gloved hand. Raising a bushy eyebrow, the dwarf continued, "We now honor the parents of th' bride and groom, th' fathers, Epineux and Soun, and th' mothers, Rosacé and Nodoka." Two of the flower girls went to each woman and handed them each a red rose. For the homily, Zelphanus proclaimed, "If such people can find it in their hearts t'love one another, despite their differences, it brings great hope t' th' hearts of all that we all may one day learn ta appreciate one another for who we are.

Now, the most important part of the ceremony had come, and despite his earlier resolve, Obelisk still shook a little. Zelphanus looked pointedly at him, and asked, "Do ye, Obelisk, take this woman t'be yer lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, till do ye part?" "I do," he replied, astonished at how his voice was as confident as ever. The cleric's eyes then turned to Hillodania, and he asked the young wood elven woman, "Do ye, Hillodania, take this man t'be yer lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, till do ye part?" "I do," she replied without any hesitation, her eyes gleaming. On cue, Lupin stepped up behind the couple, knelt to one knee and presented the pillow bearing two golden bands, sized to fit the bride and groom, his silver-haired head lowered in respect.

Together, Hillodania and Obelisk took the other's ring, and placed it on each other's hand. With pride in his voice, Zelphanus looked at the couple and in a voice that reached out to the guests, he proclaimed, "By th' powers vested in me as a cleric of Serilis, I now pronounce ye as husband and wife! Ye may kiss th' bride." Slowly, romantically, Obelisk bent his head and kissed Hillodania. Behind them, the guests burst into a round of applause. They then stepped down from the stage and proceeded down the aisle, followed by the guests row by row to the reception.

Several tables had been set up, and a wedding feast already prepared. As they sat down to eat, Obelisk and Hillodania couldn't help but stare into each other's eyes, wondering if this had really happened. Obelisk was congratulating himself on not breaking down, while the only thing Hillodania could think of was, {I'll never be alone again.} After the feast was done, it was time to cut the cake. Rosacé had outdone herself this time, the cake towered on a special table set aside for it, with incredibly accurate carved figurines of the newlyweds on top. Their hands together on the knife, Hillodania and Obelisk cut the first slice as the guests clapped. Obelisk fed his ladylove a bite carefully, but she mischievously smeared his all over his face to a roar of laughter from the crowd.

Standing off to one side with his piece of cake, Azrael watched the rest of the reception by himself, his own thoughts distant. Back in semi-formal armor, Zelphanus sidled up the human with a stein of ale in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. "Yer next, laddy, excited?" he asked, as he deftly carved a bite without spilling a drop of beer, though Azrael grimaced at his choice of beverage, he himself had a glass of water. "I guess, I love the woman like nothing else, it's just that..." "...Ye'd never thought ye'd be on the receiving end of a ceremony eh? Tha's th' trouble of bein' part of th' clergy, at least ye can marry, I had t'take a vow of celibacy y'know!" Zelphanus completed his sentence, taking a swig of his ale. Though farther from the truth than the dwarf realized, he nodded just the same. Zelphanus chuckled, and looked out back to the reception. "Ah, look! They're abou' ta start th' tossing of th' bouquet!" he told the paladin, jabbing him in the thigh, as he couldn't reach the human man's ribs.

Hillodania stood on a tree stump, and a crowd of women arrayed in front of her. Aelyena was right up near the front, the high elven twins had opposite expressions of course, Nedra had a look of determination on her face while Piyoa looked like she would rather be anywhere but there. Hillodania turned her back to them and pitched the bouquet high into the air. What the women didn't see as they jostled for position was that Hillodania's eyes had golden specks glimmering in them, and a coy smile on her face. Though Mistii was the tallest among them and it looked like the shamaness would grasp it first, it bounced off her fingers and into the waiting arms of Aelyena. Nedra looked disappointed, but she congratulated the paladin nonetheless. Aelyena looked around a little until she spotted Azrael moving towards her and she ran to embrace him. He smiled when he saw that she had caught the bouquet, and held her tightly, drinking in the feel of her, reveling in the warmth of her love for him. She was wearing the lady's equivalent of a paladin's ceremonial armor, but she still looked stunning. Azrael could only imagine what she would look like in her wedding dress. As the guests started to leave, Hillodania came up to them, and said, "Lupin will be teleporting us there, Piyoa will take care of some of the others, so hurry to the druid rings after you change, all right?" They nodded, and a couple of hours later they were ready in traveling gear to go to the West Commonlands.

A few days later...

Obelisk tightened the straps of Azrael's wedding armor, and the paladin grimaced at the tightness. "Are you sure this is how tight its supposed to be?" he gasped, trying to get some air from where the gorget was nearly choking off his air supply. "Quite sure, I've done this before if you'll recall...its quite funny, because we've switched roles since a few days ago, right?" Obelisk remarked as he moved on to the greaves. Unlike the armor he had worn to Obelisk's wedding, his "wedding suit" was full armor, marble-white, inlaid with real gold and platinum. The only piece he wasn't going to wear would be the intricate helm, which he was supposed to carry in his right hand, and place between his feet during the ceremony. As the monk finished with the boots, he exclaimed, "Its really sad that neither you nor Aelyena have any relatives that are at are able to attend." Though his eyes tightened at the corners, Azrael replied, "Its all right, this wasn't meant to be quite as big of a production as your wedding, this will be done fairly quickly, in a way its more intimate." Impressed at the eloquent answer, Obelisk nodded, but something didn't seem quite right to him in Azrael's tone. They were standing in the antechamber off from the main hall of the Temple of Marr in Freeport, on the bottom floor. Unlike the previous ceremony, it would just be a group of friends and close guildmates, along with Valeron Dushire who would be officiating for the event. It was pleasant weather outside, but dark storm clouds had been spotted on the horizon, not a good omen, or so Obelisk thought.

At the sound of the music started, he and Azrael walked out of the chamber and towards the fountain, which had been bridged by several ivory platforms, and with the late afternoon sun shining in through the skylight far above, the hall was lit in a rosy light. Dushire was waiting up at the front in his unusual combination of ceremonial robes and armor. As the groom and best man took their places, he whispered to Azrael, "I still remember greeting you on the day you arrived as a novice, and now I'm joining you in marriage! I can't tell you how proud I am of you!" "Thank you, sir," Azrael responded just as quietly, smiling briefly at the compliment. The bubbling of the water provided a nice accompaniment to the wedding music, and Azrael found himself far more relaxed than Obelisk had been. However, several thoughts raced through his mind. {How many times has this been? It never loses its intensity, does it?} he pondered, but then the music changed to the bridal procession, and he turned eagerly to see Aelyena approach. The golden-haired woman was dressed in a robe of ivory- colored silk, and a veil of the same material on her head, but he could see her beaming face through the gauzy material, setting him even more at ease. Aegisius guided her in place of her father, and they walked past the assembled guests who stood on either side of the fountain as they passed. He gave her a gentle smile as she came to stand beside him at the steps to the fountain, and she returned it.

Dushire wasted no time in getting the ceremony started, as bride and groom stood at the altar. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two citizens of Freeport together in holy matrimony. This is a joyous day indeed, for in this temple to honor the Marr twins, two of their servants are being brought together in a holy bond. They are truly blessed, for Mithaniel and Erollissi will surely be pleased at this union. Now, who brings this bride to be married?" In burnished gold ceremonial armor, Aegisius stepped forwards and proclaimed, "In place of her late father, I, Aegisius of the guild The Army of Light, her guild leader, do give this woman to be married." The old man looked proud beyond belief, and couldn't help but keep smiling throughout the entire event.

As Aelyena and Azrael took up two white unlit candles, Dushire began the Invocation. "Love, truth, and justice. These tenets join together those who follow Marr, and it is under these sentiments that this couple has lived their lives, and will continue to uphold them as they go forth as man and wife. There once was a time when paladins, holy warriors of the clergy, were not allowed to marry, but the high priest received a missive from Erollissi, and blessed by Mithaniel, that they should be allowed to join in marriage, for in such a bond their resolve would be thus strengthened, bringing them closer to the god and goddess. Let us now ask them to bless this union between these supplicants," Dushire proclaimed, and waved the container of incense about the couple as they and their guests bowed their heads. A distant rumble of thunder could be heard, and Dushire looked uneasily up at the skylight, but the skies were still clear.

Undaunted, he went on, "At this point, normally we would honor the parents of the bride and groom, but since they are no longer with us, we can only honor them in spirit." The sky was now darkening slowly but steadily above the temple, casting lengthening shadows. "Are you ready to be joined together in holy matrimony?" Dushire asked each person in turn. "I am," Azrael replied solemnly, and Aelyena also responded, "I am," shortly after him. Turning to the guests, Dushire asked, "Do you, citizens of Freeport, promise to support this bride and groom in their new life as a married couple, and citizens of this fine city?" A unanimous "We will," greeted his question. Dushire then lit the candles of the bride and groom, and they then put both flames together to light a third larger candle embossed with the emblems of both Erollissi and Mithaniel Marr, as Nixxius, unable to be cheated out of a role on the ceremony, came up with the pillow carrying their rings. The sky was entirely dark and threatening now, and only the candles and torches in the temple kept the light.

"Do you, Azrael Heavenblade of the Hall of Truth, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Dushire asked Azrael quickly, hoping to avoid having the reception in the middle of a storm. "I do," Azrael replied fervently, his eyes glowing, as he took up Aelyena's ring and placed it on her hand. Dushire then looked to Aelyena, and asked, "Do you, Aelyena Lightrose, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" "Yes!" Aelyena exclaimed, her eyes bright and a smile across her ruby lips.

"Very well, by the powers vested in me by the Truthbringer, I pronounce thee husband and wife! You may kiss the bride." Dushire proclaimed. But as Azrael kissed Aelyena, a bright flash of lightning split the heavens, followed by a deafening boom of thunder. A torrent of rain followed, and the gathered crowd shifted uneasily, upset by the bad portent. Wanting to show braveness, Azrael and Aelyena walked down the left side of the fountain, to the upper levels where the reception had been moved due to the storm.

During the reception, the mysterious events during the ceremony were forgotten, and people laughed and talked in joy and tranquility. Another interesting development was Nedra's fascination with Nixxius. She had never seen him that much before the current wedding, though she had spotted him during Obelisk's wedding. It was the first time she had ever seen someone so...beautiful. Not only was he physically attractive, she found his personality extremely pleasant, and his angelic voice melted her heart. Of course, gossip quickly spread that Nedra may have finally met her match, and that they might have to start up another wedding shortly. When Aelyena tossed the bouquet from the 'ground floor' balcony, Nedra caught it easily, and flashed a dazzling smile at Nixxius, who returned it with one of his own. Zelphanus, who had attended the event, glad he didn't have to do the proceedings this time, muttered under his breath, "Somebody better stop those two, or they're going ta start sparkling like something out of a bloody story book!" earning a round of laughter from the guests, but the dwarf was deadly serious, and he scoffed at their amusement.

The next day...

Aelyena stood fingering the ornate golden band on her right hand as Azrael knelt in front of Aegisius, who held his Fiery Avenger aloft. "Follower of the Truthbringer, I, Aegisius Trahelius, do welcome thee, soldier of Truth, into the Army of Light!" he proclaimed, and tapped each of Azrael's shoulders lightly with the blade. The officers of the guild around them cheered, and came forwards to congratulate their newest member. Though Obelisk, Hillodania, and Drakana had accompanied Azrael and Aelyena they abstained from joining the guild, much to the regret of the newlyweds. Obelisk's uneasy feeling had returned, but it seemed no longer attached to him, but strangely to Azrael and Aelyena. "You will write us, won't you?" Obelisk asked Azrael as they shook hands, while the guild prepared to move out. "Every week," Azrael responded with a grin. Hillodania approached the two men slowly, her eyes downcast, as if wanting to ask something, but not sure of how to do it. "Yes, Hillodania?" Azrael asked, finally, and her head came up with a snap. "Um...since you and the Army of Light are going to start adventuring all around Norrath...I have a favor to ask of you," she told him, biting her lower lip nervously. "Anything, what is it?" Azrael replied immediately, frowning slightly at her discomfort. "Well, you remember my father saying that my sister hadn't replied to the invitation, that she hadn't returned any mail in nearly two years? Well, if you could, if you see Lsanna during your travels, will you tell her to come home?" she asked. Azrael walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder and told her, "Of course I will, you needn't worry about that." "Thank you, here's a drawing of her in case you need it," she said, handing him a rolled up parchment. He took it without looking at it; as Aelyena tugged on his pauldron, indicating it was time to go. As the two paladins walked through the Western gate with the rest of the guild, Obelisk, Hillodania, and the others waved as they went. As they turned to walk back into the city, Obelisk looked over his shoulder as the bad feeling he had slowly faded, and thought to himself, {I really don't like this feeling...the storm during the wedding and now this...all my instincts are saying something bad is going to happen to them, but what? They seem to be made for each other, what could possibly happen?} But his question was left hanging as twilight fell, and his wife led him back into the city.

Finis