The Ranger Lord was mad now, not the feeling of anger you would

Two mysteries unfolded during the battle at Skara Brae. One was the disappearance of Lord Mess, who fought and apparently destroyed or banished the daemon Krekk. The other was the fate of Lord Geargan, whose soul had apparently been captured by the monster Sargasian. Although Geargan's body was never found, assumed lost, Lord Talmorrr sensed his presence at the battle. I was present at the unholy ceremony in which Geargan's tortured soul was returned to us, albeit in a different body. The result was...unique, to say the least.

It was at this ceremony that Lord Mess also returned briefly, again in an altered state. I am still in the process of researching what really happened to Mess on that fateful day. I hope to have a completed document for you all very soon. Unfortunately, the account I am presenting here cannot end satisfactorily, because neither mystery was solved on that day. The rangers and knights who witnessed these strange events never found a way to repair the great damage which had been done to their comrades. Perhaps someday a solution will present itself. I can only pray that the Almighty will call them home someday.

This piece opens with some eyewitness accounts of Lord Connor's bold thrust into the orc camp on the mainland near Skara Brae. Once he suspected that there was a chance to retrieve Geargan's soul, he drove straight into the heart of the enemy...

Until we meet again, at the Inn of the Last Home.

-- Cleric Theobald

Keeper of the White Stoll, Holy Order of Stars

Guild Scribe, Lords of Krynn

***

The ranger lord was mad now, not the feeling of anger you would expect from one such as him, just cold fury. Simple, cold, hard fury. The orcs and the elementals fall to the side as the spinning blades of the Lord of the Green clove them one after another. He could not be stopped, he would not be stopped. Something from the abyss had stolen the soul of one of his rangers. Connor, Talmorrr, and several rangers made their way to the mainland. He could feel Geargan closer as he drove the orcs back across the docks and further back still. Talmorrr was at his side and Kianne's arrows hummed thru the air. Faster and faster they drove. Suddenly they were in the encampment of the enemy. "Okay, lads, I am going to that pavilion in the center. Whatever happens there, make sure that all the rest of this is cleaned up. Balinor, take care of the rangers; Talmorrr, ready the knights, old friend.

With that, Connor vanished into nothingness and appeared at the front flap of the burned and smoking command pavilion. "I am Connor Maceloud of the Rangers of Krynn, and I know not what ye are but I tell ye now release my ranger or feel my wrath. The elven sword and the honed Vorpal blade glowed, brightening in his hand. He waited for a answer.

Sargasian sat in Krekk's wreck of a tent, still chuckling over the battle that had taken place. It had been some time since the daemon and the ranger had battled through the tent and taken it elsewhere. He wondered if they had killed themselves. He didn't know, but he was dying to find out. Then he heard fighting outside of the tent and heard many orcs dying. "Ahh, company," he chuckled. He heard the challenge being shouted from the outside and he felt quite amused. How could he give back something that was rightfully his? Sargasian shouted his reply as he reclined in Krekk's throne and placed his feet on the map desk. "NOT BY THE HAIRS ON MY CHINNY CHIN CHIN!" His smile grew larger.

Connor walked slowly into the tent, his entire body tense. Before, the ranger had known what was happening and how the orcs and such fought, but this thing was something akin to Soth and perhaps Takhisis herself. So when he walked in he was ready, although there was a slight tilt to his face.

"I would have huffed and puffed but ye left the door open. Now how about roast pig for dinner?"

Sargasian looked at the ranger lord, took his feet off the desk and shifted in the throne, tapping his fingers on the arms. "Lord Connor, I presume? You certainly have the air of a leader, and such bravery, too." Sargasian smiled broadly. "As to your request, I must deny it. You see, he was my ranger long before he was yours, and I just can't simply let him go because he has no body to return to--unless of course he takes mine which I'm sure you can understand is totally out of the question." Sargasian noted the ranger lord's brow furrowing. "Oh, and of course there will be no roast pig; I only eat meat when it's raw. Any other requests?" He leaned back and resumed his original reclining position and waited for an answer.

"Well, lad, being that you have relieved my ranger of his body, I'll just have to relieve ye of yours. I'll be thinking that this is a fair trade. And ye?" Connor deftly twists a ring on his index finger that slowly begins an anti-magic area about his body. It once stopped the goddess Takhisis. Should be enough for this one, too. Connor watched and waited for the thing before him to make a move.

Sargasian looked at Connor and burst out laughing. "Of course that's not a fair trade! What do I look like? But I do like your style. You know, not too long ago I stumbled across some remains in a forest. You could say they where more like ashes. I believe that they belonged to a friend of yours, because I could feel his essence, and when I channeled into the beyond all I could seem to get was extreme hatred directed towards a certain ranger lord. I believe that entity was called Methos. Am I right? Well I can tell you one thing: I won't be so easily disposed of. I suffer none of the limitations of a dead thing, and I seem to have something you want, which gives me the upper hand. I can give you what you are asking for but at a price. You see, I have no desire to go to the beyond yet, seeing as how I just completed a quest which took me well over a thousand years, but as you are so insistent about it, I can give you my bloodling's soul back." Sargasian noted the look on Connor's face and smiled.

"But there is a catch, of course, because nothing in life is either free or fair. You see Geargan will need a body. This one is entirely inappropriate for him, don't you think? If you want him back, you'll have to bring a body which is close to death with no chance of healing. If you can do that then I will channel his soul into that body and he will be restored. Or I can quite easily destroy him now if you like. I suggest the former is a better option. Do we have an understanding?" Sargasian smiled at Connor. All light in the tent seemed to fade and only the glint of razor sharp teeth remained, set in a broad smile.

Lad, Methos was far more then you'll ever know. You see, with him I shared a history and perhaps a bit of compassion; but for thee I have none. I shall see what is left upon this battlefield; for even though thy pact reeks of the devil himself, I do believe that accommodations can be made. But remember this: I care not what you are. Should you dishonor our pact, there will be no place in the planes ye can hide. Connor turned and walked out onto the battle field looking weary.

"Kianne, come here."

"Yes, Connor."

"Ki, go see Theobald and find me a man who has lost the will to live, and who' body is at deaths door. Tell him I would speak to him. It is most dire." Then Connor gathered the remnants of the rangers to wait on Kianne's and Theobald's verdicts. The ranger frowned as he thought of what he must do to rescue his lost friend. He looked about, wondering where Azutah had gotten off to. Quickly spying Rachus, Connor sent him to locate the strange lass with the pointed teeth and her cat. Connor looked around with a frown and began to worry. Where is Mess? he thinks.

"Theobald," Kianne breathed. But what caught her attention was the rest of the statement. She knew not to argue and merely went her way, tracking Theobald until she discovered him tending the wounded. Ki wondered briefly if Connor knew this is where he would be.

"Theobald," she greeted warmly. "'Tis good to see ye again, though the circumstances could be better." They exchanged brief greetings, then Ki turned immediately to her purpose. "I have what sounds to be a strange request," she confessed. "From Connor, no less." With concern in her eyes, she repeated what Lord Connor had spoken to her.

***

Some time later, the rangers stood behind their lord looking on, as Sargasian smiled and drew the light of goodness from them into his dark soul. Laid in front of him was a body. Sargasian stood over the body; the man lay dying, and this pleased him, but what pleased him more was the look of disgust on the faces of those who had brought the man.

"Well, Connor, it looks as though you have kept your side of the bargain. I know it has pained you greatly to enter such a pact, but this will stand you in good stead for our next encounter, although it may take a thousand years for that to happen as I am going to a place where not even you would dare to tread willingly." Sargasian smiled as the ranger lord glared at him. "Well, enough of the pleasantries; time to return him." Sargasian knelt over the dying man's body and whispered into his ear. The man gasped and tried to sit up, but Sargasian pushed him back down again and held his hand over his mouth. Then he started to incant, words so hideous and evil that everything seemed to darken and become damp. This was not pure magic at work. Sargasian started to glow a dull red and the man stopped moving altogether. Suddenly a loud crack of thunder split the air and the world seemed to go black, then everything seemed to return to normal. Sargasian had stopped and now stood over a large cocoon which pulsated with intense heat.

"Connor, the one who you have asked for is on his way, but first he needs to make himself at home in his new body. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT disturb that cocoon until he has finished, or the deal you have seemingly sold yourself to will be brought to nothing and you will be personally responsible for the deaths of two innocents." He smiled as all present shifted uncomfortably. "Now goodbye. Be wary of Krekk. He hasn't quite finished yet, you know," and with a snap of his fingers he was gone, leaving the rangers with one rather large pulsating cocoon.

For a while the cocoon throbbed. Those present watched in morbid interest, wondering aloud what was going to happen. Theobald laughed and joked nervously with the Lady Kianne and the other rangers gathered in the tent. Lord Connor made a comment about how much the fat cocoon before them resembled his fourteenth wife's mother, in an attempt to break the tension in the room.

With an end to hostilities and with the possible return of Geargan, a sense of relief came over the rangers gathered there. Everyone seemed clueless on what to do next. Only time would tell what would become of their fallen comrade.

Theobald was happy he had played some small part by finding a host, but he had a sense of doom gnawing at the back of his mind. Though he could not put his finger on it, he was certain of one thing: there would be strong reactions in the host's body (and in the host's mind) to Geargan's life force. This transformation would be an unnatural union, an unholy pact. Theobald went pale as a horrible possibility dawned on him. Sargasian may have confined two distinct souls within the boundaries of a single body and mind. Theobald made a mental note to have a VERY long conversation with Lord Connor later about the dreadful possibilities that were unfolding before them.

Finally, the cocoon started to pulsate wildly, and the dull red turned a very bright green. All those present backed away suddenly as it burst with a loud plop, gooey mucus flying through the air as the figure inside started to rise. Its flesh was a very dark green with black stripes, its limbs were long, but it's muscles where thickly corded. The head was bald with small pointed ears and red piercing eyes; it smiled showing very sharp canine teeth, the rest also unnaturally sharp. The group gasped and a few drew their weapons as it stepped out of the remnants of the cocoon.

"Do not be alarmed by my appearance, my friends. Is it so uncommon for a child to resemble its father?" Geargan asked, as he wiped mucus from his face.

"You look strange, lad," Connor replied. "Strange indeed. So strange that I fear ye must prove ye are yeself, as we cannot allow the monster Sargasian to gain a foothold in the rangers. Describe us all, lad, and what we are, to prove who ye are."

"Aye, it is I. Although my appearance has changed, I am still Geargan. I have touched the heart of darkness and I have drunk from the well of despair, but I have returned. Sargasian was an incarnation of pure evil, and this was one of his devious tricks. Surely ye did not think that such an unholy bargain would not be without a price? The host's soul was devoured by Sargasian as mine once was, but being of his bloodline he granted me some new powers. I have no sense of what these powers may be as of yet, but ye need not fear me. I am not an enemy."

Geargan looked at Connor, an almost reddish hue starting to cover his face. "Would it be any trouble to perhaps supply me with a loincloth?" He looked at Ki. "As ye can see, Sargasian also thought it would be funny to let me emerge VERY naked." The reddish hue was now quite pronounced.

Connor removed his kilt and tossed it to Geargan, studying him slowly. "So lad as of yet we are still friends? That seemed a strange thing to say to a group of your oldest and closest friends. Do you have any idea where Mess is? And what happened to Sargasian now?" Connor felt another walking toward the tent, but chose not to greet them as of yet. There are enough unknowns here already.

Geargan fastened the kilt around his waist. "I am sorry if I was blunt. You must forgive me, as well you can imagine I have suffered greatly these past few days. Every vile act that Sargasian committed I was witness and unwillingly a part of, but aye as before I am now still a friend. I know not where Sargasian went, but he did leave this world. It bored him, I think. I fear Mess is in great trouble as he came through here and battled the daemon, but that feels like it was an age ago. You must forgive me, Connor, but I have need of rest; this body is still forming, and all my energy is needed to try to control it. And my mental health, as you can imagine also, is suffering severe stress." Geargan fell back down onto his behind as if on cue.

And then Mess walked in, dressed in a black robe with a green cloak. He looked around and hailed, but said no names in particular. Hanging on his side was the sword Bane, and it issued a growl, low and quiet.

***

It is dawn now, in Skara Brae. Choking gray haze from innumerable smoldering fires hangs heavily in the air. It is a cold morning, with very little moisture in the air. Everywhere townsfolk are busy clearing rubble and bodies from the streets. Be they artisans, farmers, or nobles, everyone who can shares in the cleanup. Those who are unable are busy cleaning up the various shops and storefronts. Broken windows must be torn out and replaced; fire-scarred paneling must be stripped and repainted; damaged livestock must be slaughtered and treated to preserve the precious meat.
Among the townsfolk, already there is talk of the miraculous rescue they experienced last night at the hands of the Rangers of Krynn, their brethren Knights of Solamnia, the mages from Krynn, and the Lord British's Royal Guard. Rumors abound of their great feats. "Did you hear? A ranger toppled a dozen orcs in a single parry." "Really? I heard a Solamnic Knight cleared an entire city block of the enemy single handed. Or was it one of the mages?" "I met one of the rangers, and she said one Royal Guardsmen had challenged a hundred orcs to single combat and defeated them all!" "No, I heard that was one of the knights." "Well all I know is I saw one of the mages atop the roof of the town hall calling down fire bolts from the sky that torched dozens of orcs with each blast." "I thought that was a ranger."

As for the citizens and soldiers of Britain who had helped rescue Skara Brae, they were busy burying their dead in a grand cemetery. A large plot of land had been donated by a local farmer whose farm had been the first to be ravaged by the orcs' invasion. Her once beautiful farm was now laid waste, but the land itself was vast and covered in shade trees. The rolling hills and small ponds made it perfect for a martial cemetery. It would shelter the sacred bodies of hundreds of valiant soldiers and common citizens from Britain. The Lord British himself was there, aiding in the layout of the place. He had already issued summons to the Skaran city council for them to attend the ceremony that would take place tonight at dusk. He had also requested the honor of hosting the Lords of Krynn at the same ceremony.
The Lords of Krynn, gathered in the forest outside the city, had received that request from Lord British and would attend that evening. But first they had a ceremony of their own to perform. Small in number and exceptional in skill, the Krynn had suffered only a single casualty. Though at first they thought they had lost two more, both rangers Geargan and Mess had been miraculously returned to them (albeit a little different than before). Only one ranger had died in the defense of Skara Brae: Lord Konan. Out of respect for the rangers' private way of honoring their dead, the knights and mages had dismissed themselves and formed a large protective perimeter deep in the forest to prevent anyone from interfering with the ranger ceremony.
The Rangers themselves are now gathered in a tight circle around the body of Konan. Only two of the rangers are standing: Lord Connor and Lady Unari. The rest have taken to one knee out of respect for their fallen comrade. Connor finishes whispering the final words of the Ranger Lament:

"Away drifts music, symphony sweet
Away goes the ranger, the forest to greet
In springtime sunshine, of evil no traces
Through flowers and lovers, step measured paces
Hark! Listen you, all, the rangers call
And sleep peaceful, lovers, secure"

As Connor finishes the song, Unari incants the words of an ancient kind of magic; words she learned from the mountain dwarves of Thorbardin on Krynn. Konan's body slowly begins to shine, and dissipate into the air and the land, emanating light that comes from within the earth itself as it draws another ranger home. The rangers do not weep, for they know that Konan is returning to where he belongs. Though they are sullen, they are comforted that Konan now dwells in the land around them. For many long moments, the rangers listen to the sounds of the forest, drawing strength from the very fiber of the trees, the soft smell of the earth, and the sound of Konan's voice on the wind.

Throughout the ceremony Mess hums to himself and yawns. He turns and looks around holding back a laugh. "Too easy," he mutters, with a big grin. A ranger close by looks at him and frowns at his lack of respect. The sword on his side still growls deep, but low so none close by can hear.

Geargan stood apart from the other rangers as the ceremony finished. He was now encompassed by a lush green hooded robe that almost felt like a second skin, but he did not know where it had come from. He found it hard to grieve for one man after so many had perished, also knowing that in a small way and without his consent he had been part of the devastation that had been released upon Skara Brae.

He looked at each ranger but found it hard to recognize them; his memory seemed to be under a cloud. His physical health was also still very frail, although he could feel strange otherworldly workings taking place within him. He looked at Mess and a felt a strange recollection, a feeling of recognition. But not that of a life-long friend, that of something darker. He stood silently as Lord Connor made preparations to address the gathering.

A dark, tired ranger, stands away in the ceremony, staring at the others. Rachus refrains from reliving in memory the torments of the battle. He watches Geargan closely, not understanding how this being came to be.
Rachus walks over to Mess, looks him in the eyes. He knows this is far from over.

Suddenly, Mess grabs Rachus by the ears and slams his head forward smashing into his face. Rachus falls back, stunned. Mess draws his sword and spins it through the air and slams it into the ground, incanting. Then the ground explodes upwards, reigning fire and debris in every direction. People fall as rocks slam into them and fire engulfs them. Only one is not touched by the devastation; Geargan looks on. Mess pulls the sword from the ground and spins to watch the carnage as the ground begins to burn. His features shift and his face changes into an eyeless, pale, smooth face, looking around and laughing like a maniac. The sword spins in his hand and changes to a staff, then he leaps forward to strike down any who oppose him. Fire explodes from the end of it, streaking toward Geargan. "Nice staff," he cries.

A silver blade streaks through the air, its power shimmering, and then it skewers itself upon the fireball. The energy of the ball is dissipated and then the blade winks out of the air and back to the hands of its wielder. Connor stands, fury smoldering in his eyes. "I would know what ye are, lad, and I would know now." Energy crackles about the Lord of the Green.

Geargan looked at the being that was once holding the visage of Mess. The fireball had dissipated in front of him, but he still took it as an affront to his person. Then he heard Connor and saw the other rangers preparing for battle one more time. This one is mine, he thought to himself. In a blinking of an eye he shot forward. Another fireball whirled above his head, scorching his robe that flowed behind him. Moving deftly to the side, he dove back towards his foe and grabbed his ankles and pulled them high into the air. The doppleganger fell flat on its back with a loud thud. As quickly as he was down Geargan lunged forward again and grabbed his throat and whispered into its ear. "You will have to do much better than that!" He pulled the doppleganger back to it's feet and pushed it backwards, and held his arms out wide. "What have ye got next?"

The doppleganger liquified, and like quicksilver slunk to the ground. It formed a spike and shot upwards, impaling Geargan's leg. Once again like quicksilver it slipped out then solidified, this time looking the exact double of Geargan. It leaped forward and slammed into Geargan, sending them both into a roll. They both came up and out and faced off as the other rangers reacted. But which one was Geargan, only he and the monster knew.

Connor's fury showed fully in his eyes as he watched the two Geargans face off, both of them identical. "Okay, rangers, circle them and let neither out 'til we figure out who is who." In the back of his mind, Connor wondered, Where is Mess, then?

Quick as a thought, Kianne's bow was in her hand and an arrow drawn. She joined Connor and the other rangers in circling the two Geargan combatants. Her aiming arm was steady as she pointed the arrow toward the both of the fighters, always ready to fire at one or the other the instant she recognized her target. Not this again, she groaned mentally. Then another thought struck her. Too bad one of them isn't undead.

Geargan smiled at the doppleganger. "Now that's what I call a handsome man." From the corner of his eye he spotted Ki aiming her bow. He smiled and licked his sharp canines. His leg throbbed, but the pain was not as it used to be when he was a human; this pain felt nice. He threw a right fist at the doppleganger, but feinted as it tried to block and brought his left hand up under its defense. Once again he grabbed it by the throat, but this time he dug his finger nails deep into its neck. Instantly they grew in size, biting deep into its throat. "Which one of us do you think they will kill first?" Geargan spat into the monsters face.

Connor whispered to Kianne, "Can ye tell, lass, is there any way ye know who is who?" The Geargan with claws reaching up into its head lost concentration for a split second. Its form faltered, showing its white face briefly.

Kianne's sharp eyes latched onto the doppleganger's flash of white face. "There!" she gasped, letting loose her arrow at the same time. Quick as a flash the arrow cut through the air and embedded itself into its target's shoulder. Kianne went still immediately, watching in mixed worry and determination, her arm still outstretched holding the bow.

"NO, DO NOT KILL IT!" Connor sprang forward, his arms wrapping the creature. Lighting flew about his body, electricity cracked about both of them, joules and joules of energy. Faster it flew. "Ki! BIND HIM!"

Geargan withdrew his claws as Connor wrestled with the creature.
Looking at his hand he noticed it covered it thick dark blood. Smiling he licked it off.

Kianne leaped forward, replacing her bow across her back in favor of whipping out some rope from her pack. With Connor's help she wrestled the creature down. As their captive was subdued she took a moment to glance back toward Geargan and the other rangers who had tightened their circle around the combatants. "Hold him," she requested of her ranger friends, her eyes resting on the free Geargan for a moment. "Until we know for sure." And she turned back to her work with the supposed doppleganger.

Connor's face was red as fire as his rage almost got the best of him. "Lad, I will know now where is Mess, the one you copied, and be aware that this has not been a grand time for me." Connor waited for the answer.

Geargan watched the struggle with some amusement. Something was warping his perception, and though he realized the seriousness of the situation he could not help but smile. Once Ki turned her watchful gaze, he stepped into a shadow of a great oak...and was gone.

The doppleganger laughed hysterically, then looked the Lord of the Green straight in the eye with his pale smooth face. "There is no torment great enough that would compare with the one I would suffer if I was to tell you where I stumbled across the body of the one you call Mess, but I'll tell you one thing. He was a...mess." He broke out into hysterical laughter again and didn't stop.

Connor's face was one of simple rage, as all that had happened to the rangers and the LoKs had bottled up inside him. Energy coursed through the ranger lord as he released the creature he held. "If ye will not tell me, then I have no use for ye." A pillar of flame engulfed the creature, searing its skin and boiling its eyes from its sockets. The flame burned and burned. When it was over, there was nothing but ash.

Turning and seeing Geargan had disappeared as well, Connor spoke, "Rangers, we are missing two from our ranks. I would know where they are and I am open to suggestions."

"Geargan might no longer be one of us, as he seems to have left of his own accord," Ki reminded Connor, straightening up and gazing toward where she'd last seen the odd-skinned ranger. "I know not where to find Mess."

***

Theobald scratched his head and wondered aloud to no one in particular, "I wonder what's keeping all those rangers?" The interment ceremony being held by Lord British at the new martial cemetery of Skara Brae was to begin within the hour, yet there was no sign of any of the rangers or their fellow Lords of Krynn. The young cleric began to worry, "I knew I should have warned Lord Connor about that Geargan fellow. If I were a wagering man, I would place my bet that he has them all tied up." Laying his mentor's elaborate clerical staff across the top of his shoulders and neck, he pinned it in place with his lean arms outstretched across it. He started meandering across the open field toward the grove of trees where he knew the Rangers were gathered.
A few minutes later he was chatting amiably with the Knights of Solamnia who stood guard at the edge of the forest where the ranger ceremony was being held. Suddenly there was a pillar of flame a mile high, and Theobald was running through the woods toward the rangers, along with a rather large contingent of the Lords of Krynn. The pillar of flame which had consumed the doppleganger had also alarmed the Lords on watch surrounding the ceremony that something had gone terribly wrong, so they ran to see what trouble was stirring.

One of the younger knights spoke up as they all entered the clearing, sounding disappointed, "I just knew they would have everything under control before we could get here. I was hoping for some more action." Several of the other knights immediately chastised the young Knight of the Crown for his disrespect. Duly humbled, the Solamnic warrior cleared his throat and apologized eloquently and sincerely.
"Apology accepted, Knight o' the Crown; thine honest repentance does my heart good," replied Lord Connor.
"Milord, what happened here?" asked Theobald.
"A double mystery has been presented to us, lad, and we will need ideas from everyone on how to proceed." Lord Connor explained the strange happenings with the doppleganger and the disappearance of Geargan. Deep sadness and dark anger clouded Connor's eyes as he related how little chance there was that Mess could be found in time. "I fear we are too late to recover Ranger Mess; we may be forced to merely avenge his death. And that solution, my friends, will be unacceptable."

***

NO ANSWERS...

***