Ghonewyn pressed her back against the rock wall, sword clutched tightly in both hands. Her shield lay on the floor across the yawning hallway entrance.
A few torches flickered on the walls around her, confounding her elven eyes as they shifted between light spectrums. Still, battle was near and she was
grimly determined.

Ghonewyn was an elf, a high elf to be specific, a race of rare, enlightened, civilized people of which the world of Norrath had never seen before, with the possible exception of the human Erudites. Still, they were only human, and had their limitations. She was tall (especially for an elf) with an unblemished face and a smooth, curvaceous figure that caused many men to stop and stare. She was no stranger to battle, yet never scarred from her wounds. Her hair was a fiery red that spilled down her ornate plate-and-mail armor like a conflagrating waterfall. She did not wear a helmet, so that her enemies would be able to see the grim visage of their doom.

She was beautiful, and she knew it. Many men had fallen helplessly in love
with her over the years, and the chagrin of her parents was complete when she had told them that she would follow the hard, chaste path of the Paladin. But, she had abandoned their wealth, their comforts, and their last name long ago in the pursuit of protecting the helpless and bringing justice to the chaotic lands of Norrath. Now, she was known as Ghonewyn Aegischild, shield to those who needed protection, and the judge, jury, and executioner of those who sought to exploit them.

Ghonewyn had been sent on a mission by her master paladin Yuin Starchaser
to infiltrate the Crushbone orc stronghold on the North end of the continent of Faydwer, which the elves were forced to share with their (distant) cousins the wood elves, the dwarves, the gnomes, and the despicable orcs. The mission was to sneak in and assassinate Emperor Crush. Wood elf scouts (little more than barbarians, they were- it was hard to believe that they were related to Ghonewyn's civilized race) reported that a large orc strike force was amassing to sweep across Faydwer in a single fell swoop. It was believed that by assassinating their leader, the army's backbone would be broken and it would disperse, that the orcs would crawl back into the hovels from which they emerged. A call was sent out for volunteers, and when Ghonewyn had heard of the army, she jumped at the chance to combine the two things she loved best- protecting the innocent and crushing orc skulls.

She was sent to Kelethin, city of the Wood Elves, to rendezvous with several skilled individuals who would assist her in her mission. They were: Conundrum, a scatterbrained gnome magician; Drogin, a gruff and surprisingly bloodthirsty dwarf cleric of Brell Serilis (the Keeper of Secrets beneath the Mountain- it made her skin crawl to think that another God's power would touch her. She prayed that Tunare would understand); and Leilia, a taciturn yet remarkably skilled wood elf ranger. The four had snuck around the great sea of orc warriors at Leilia's lead and had gotten this far into the stronghold. The party arrived to find the fortress nearly empty of orcs. It seemed as though every orc in Faydwer had amassed in that army that waited to strike just outside. Ghonewyn wanted to enter the keep through the front door and confront her enemies directly with honour, but Leilia silently insisted that they look for a back door and sneak in. The woman's lack of honour frustrated Ghonewyn, but Leilia was usually right about this sort of thing, so she agreed.

The party wandered across the morbidly quiet stronghold, looking for a way into the keep, and had stumbled across this mine where many men and women of differing race and creed were kept as slaves to work the mines. Ghonewyn's heart broke when she saw their injuries and their hardships, and she insisted that they free them. Drogin agreed eagerly, Conundrum was too busy talking to himself to notice, so Leilia's pleas for caution were overruled and the foursome ventured into the caves.

When they first entered the mine Leilia indicated that a large party of orcs was up ahead. The party ventured on until they found a suitable place for the battle, and set up a hasty plan.

The plan was simple. Leilia would approach the orcs in stealth, get their attention (probably by putting an arrow or two through some orcs heads) and draw the stupid beasts back to where the other three waited. It was hoped that the party could force the orcs into a bottleneck while Drogin lent his healing powers, Leilia provided cover fire if things got messy, and conundrum watched their backs. This sort of fight was Ghonewyn's element, so she agreed readily to be the front at line.

The piggish grunts and squeals from up ahead snatched Ghonewyn from her revelries and she began to concentrate on the task at hand. The squeals soon grew closer and Conundrum began casting a spell.

Leilia burst through the mouth of the tunnel and dove aside just as Conundrum finished his spell. A great cone of flames streaked across the room and immolated the leading orcs in a great conflagration of magical fire. They barely lived long enough to scream.

An orc rushed through the mouth of the tunnel, running full tilt for Conundrum. Ghonewyn swung her sword, catching the orc on the collarbone and knocking it over. She reversed the sword and plunged it through the orc's heart. She yanked her sword free and rolled aside to the opposite side of the tunnel opening. She grabbed her shield and turned around just in time to deflect a mace blow that fell with arm- numbing force. The orc raised its weapon for another strike, but just as the weapon fell, a grey-fletched arrow buried itself into the orc's temple. Barbarian though she was, Leilia was a remarkable marksman.

Conundrum had unleashed another spell by now, lacerating several of the
largest orcs Ghonewyn had ever seen in a shower of conjured razors. Blood
splattered everywhere and caused the lead orc to slip on the slick stone and
fall on his back.

Ghonewyn leaped to her feet and finished him off. She stood in the tunnel entrance, shield extended, sword held at the ready, a stalwart fortress against the bloodthirsty abominations. She dealt many wounds and much death, but was dealt many wounds as well. Each time she thought she would succumb to her injuries, a wave of warmth washed across her body and closed her wounds immediately. Her arms grew heavy, but each time she grew weary renewed strength and vigor would flowed through her body once more.

One time through the course of the battle a party of orcs thought to circumvent the battle and take the party by surprise from behind. Leilia was there in an instant, raining arrows down among their ranks, while Conundrum finished them off with a second great gout of flame.

The battle wore on for many minutes, but eventually, after many bodies had piled up, enemies grew scarce and those not already slain lost heart for the fight and flew at full speed.

Sincere exhaustion permeated Ghonewyn's body- she had never before slain
so many enemies at one time. It had not been a battle among equals- it was a
slaughter. None had so much as stood a chance against her and her friends. The deepest guilt she had ever known gripped Ghonewyn's body and she threw up, the wasted food lost among the bodies and meandering streams of blood.

As she knelt with her head hanging in her hands, she heard the sound of metal boots splashing in the viscera and heard a voice like gravel muttering. She looked up to see Drogin turning over the bodies one by one, checking for valuables. She looked at him in disgust and he shrugged. "Gotta tithe to me chaerch somehow", he said. Ghonewyn shook her head, and rose to her feet. She closed her eyes in concentration. The blood staining her magical sword and armor evaporated, leaving behind not a single trace of the grisly battle. Ghonewyn sheathed her sword and looked around. Leilia was cleaning her sword with a scarlet handkerchief and Conundrum was sitting comically cross-legged in a dry corner, eyes closed with elbows resting on his knees and with thumbs touching middle fingers. He was chanting "auuuuummmm" repeatedly. Despite being a gnome, Conundrum made her laugh- usually. Not this time, though. They had slaughtered so many, how could they be so calm?

A gloved hand grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see Drogin smiling with a fat purse and a key ring in his hand. "Ye kilt thirteen yerself,
lass. Good job, ye've earned this gold," he said, extending the purse and key
ring.

Suppressing the urge to vomit once more, she forced a smile at the little dwarf. "Thank you, but gold has no value to me. I shall take these, though," she said, and politely took the key ring. Drogin shrugged and turned away. Ghonewyn sighed and lifted the heavy key ring, sorting through the many
keys and forcing herself to think of which key belonged to which slave's manacles.

She heard Drogin's gravelly voice behind her. "Listen, lass. I know what ye're thinkin', and a've been there, too. Orcs kilt me mum and me pa. Me brother went a'lookin fer vengeance one day, and 'e ne'er came home. Orcs took me whole family, and I owe 'em the favour. Years ago I led a slaughter that makes this look like a barbarian sparrin' match, an' fer a few days I felt guilty over it meself. But then I remembered: orcs are good fer nuthin' but dyin'. They'd kill everyone you care about if'n they got the chance. Me life is proof o' that. Don't ye feel bad fer what ye was privy to- it had to get done. We need ya- anyone who swings a sword like ye do a'int too bad- even if she is an elf."

Ghonewyn spun in anger and unleashed her fury against him. "And how are
we any better than them for doing this?! What if these orcs had families!? I am all for killing orcs, but this- this was senseless! They didn't stand a chance! We just hacked them to pieces, and you're telling me it was justified?!"

Drogin shook his head. "No, I'm not justifyin' this, I'm sayin' it had te get done. These orcs woulda invaded yer home and kilt yer family, too, had ye not done the same here t'day. The difference is that we woulda been perfectly happy ta be left alone- these orcs woulda come and sook ye out ta kill ye had ye not done it first. At least, I would've been happy to stay in me home with me family, but thanks to these beasts," Drogin kicked one of the corpses in the nose, crushing the bone and cartilage and adding yet more gore to the growing pool, "I can't do that anymore. Ye'll see one day, I know ye will." Drogin turned his back and resumed his looting.

Ghonewyn stood for a moment and muttered to herself. "There was no
honour in this. No honour at all."

Drogin shook his head and didn't turn around. "Do them orcs got honour? Does honour make it harder to die on a sword?" Ghonewyn didn't answer, and Drogin didn't press the point.

Ghonewyn shook her head in frustration and stalked out of the cave to the
slaves' camp. She sorted through the keys and freed them all, handing them extra
weapons found on the orcs and bidding them stay there until Ghonewyn came to get them after she was finished her mission. She didn't know how she would escort several score slaves out of Crushbone without them and Ghonewyn's party being discovered, but she would figure it out once she got there.

She walked back to the camp and found her friends ready to depart. Conundrum had finished his meditation, and was smiling cheerily to Ghonewyn as though he had not helped slaughter several dozen orcs in the mine-turned-abattoir. No wonder she didn't eat meat.

The party ventured on, and eventually found what they were looking for. A tunnel attached to the slave camp behind the mines led straight to the kitchen. The party met a surprised group of cooks boiling some form of putrid meat and the group made short work of them (Ghonewyn took no part in it, of course). Upon inspection of the area, Leilia uncovered several human and dwarf bodies frozen in an icebox. Apparently when a slave could work no longer the Emperor had a special feast. The thought disgusted Ghonewyn and Drogin, but as usual Leilia gave no sign of emotion, and Conundrum seemed preoccupied with something in his tinker box. The group proceeded past the kitchen and climbed what seemed like an endless staircase. Ghonewyn and Drogin were winded when they finally topped the crest - Conundrum seemed ready to pass out - but Leilia seemed to be unaffected. Leilia indicated that they had to be close to the throne room, and that they should be
wary.

"Wait, wait- yes, wait we must, for but a moment," Conundrum wheezed. As
most gnomes do, he soon lost control of his rate of speech and the rest of the
party had to concentrate hard to understand. "ThereisaspellImustcast,thatwillhelpusgreatlywhenthebattlebegins,yes? Imustjustcatchmybreathfirst. Phew!" Conundrum just seemed to collapse and he lay there on his back for several minutes, his tiny chest heaving from exertion. Finally he got up and spoke in his maddeningly fast rate of speech. "IshallnowsummonanelementalfriendwhowillaidusagainstEmporer
Crush.Ijustaskyouthis:fireiceorearth?" Ghonewyn blinked several times, not having understood a word.

Leilia seemed to catch at least a part of it. For the first time since Ghonewyn had known her she spoke in a high, musical voice that was very pleasant to hear. "Fire. I would like to have this battle over as quickly as possible, and the more work that magic does for us, the less we have to do. Shall we continue?" Conundrum nodded energetically and pulled a small gem from his pocket.

Ghonewyn was surprised at how civilized and educated Leilia's speech sounded.
She found herself looking forward to when the battle was over, so she could get to know this enigmatic woman.

Conundrum finished his spell and a small gateway opened in midair, admitting a small elemental creature that floated in the air. It was coloured a fiery red, had short, curled goat horns protruding from its forehead, and had no legs, yet in their place was a swirl of flames on which it floated in the air. The little flames remarkably did not seem to give off any heat.

The elemental bowed to Conundrum and spoke to him in a guttural language that Ghonewyn didn't understand. Conundrum smiled a great mouthful of pristinely white teeth and bowed back to the elemental creature. He conversed with it for a few moments and turned to the party. He seemed to remember this time that they could not understand him, and slowed down his speech to a reasonable speed. The effort seemed to pain him greatly. "Guys, meet Gobartik. Gobartik, this is Ghonewyn, Leilia, and Drogin." Gobartik bowed to each of them in turn and said something to Conundrum in his gutteral language. Conundrum nodded and turned towards the party. "Gobartik says that it is a pleasure to meet you, and that any friend of his master's is a friend of his."

Ghonewyn bowed and replied. "Tell him that the honour of this meeting belongs to us, and that we will look forward to fighting alongside him." Drogin rolled his eyes and Leilia watched impassively. Conundrum nodded and relayed the message to the fiery outsider. Gobartik bowed deeply to Ghonewyn.

"Well, now that that'ssettledshallwecontinue?" Leilia nodded and Gobartik
floated over to a step behind Conundrum.

The party continued their trek, and found another seemingly endless staircase. The keep surprised Ghonewyn- it certainly hadn't looked so tall from the outside. By the time the party crested the top, the only ones not ready to collapse were Leilia and the elemental (damn outer plane inhabitants with their cursed ability to float. Damn them all!), and even Leilia sighed when they reached the top. After resting for a few minutes, the party entered the throne room.

The beast that sat upon the throne was the biggest orc Ghonewyn had ever seen. Standing well over seven feet tall, he looked as though he had some ogre blood in him. Long, yellowed tusks protruded from his lower jaw. Like all orcs, he was bald, and his skin was a deep shade of blue. Thick, corded muscles looped about his body and strained against the chain mail shirt he wore. A gigantic sword was propped against a nearby wall. He had two orc legionnaires standing on either side of him. The masses of these creature stunned Ghonewyn for a moment.

It would seem that Leilia's earlier suggested plan of a surprise attack would have been impossible. The walls were smooth, worked stone of a quality that seemed out of place in an orc stronghold. There were two large windows on opposing sides of the throne room, but climbing into them would have been impossible without being detected. Two tapestries depicting great flames and orcs slaughtering a great many innocent people adorned the otherwise plain stone walls. There was a great table in one corner of the room, laden with putrid meat on which flies and maggots crawled. The thought of living in such filth was mortifying.

Ghonewyn collected herself and spoke. She drew herself up tall and proud. She prayed that Tunare was with them. "Emperor Crush, your crimes are inexcusable. You have slaughtered thousands of innocent people, torched many homes, and still have not quenched your thirst for blood. In the name of Tunare, your reign of terror ends now." She hefted her shield and drew her long sword, raising it high in the air. She whispered a prayer and the blade began to shine brightly. Strength and vigor flooded into her body, and she could feel the loving caress of her God upon her shoulder. She knew that Tunare was with her, and nothing could change that. Nothing could stop her. Tunare had judged, and Ghonewyn was to be her gavel.

The Emperor laughed a great, gutteral, wheezing snort. He spoke with an intelligence that is rare among his creed. "You, a little elf, will stop me? I have thirty thousand warriors waiting to befall on your pitiful cities. Even if you kill me (which you will not) another will rise to take my place. Your children will be slaughtered, your men will be enslaved, and your women will be ravished. Again, and again, and again. Elf flesh has never much interested me, but I have other uses for elf women." His smile chilled Ghonewyn to the bone, but she renewed her faith in her god and calmness took her once more.

"Enough talk. Prepare for the underworld, Emperor. It is time for you to die." And so it began.

Ghonewyn charged ahead and met the two legionnaires head- on. She cut the
throat from one, reversed the blade, and slashed through the collarbone of the other. They both fell in a heap, the one with the missing throat already dead. She turned to see Emporer Crush pick up his sword and rest the flat of the blade on his shoulder, as though it weighed nothing. Sweet Tunare, she had never seen a sword so big.

She charged forward, thinking that such a great weapon would slow him down, but she was wrong. He parried her strike, grabbed her waist, and threw her against the nearby wall, dazing her. He picked her up again and tossed her against the opposite wall. It was obvious that he was toying with her, but it was all she could do not to pass out.

Emporer Crush walked over to her, and raised his sword to strike, but several arrows buried themselves into his side, and he staggered for a moment. Magical Razors lacerated his ribs, and a fireball slammed into his leg. Despite his injuries, though, Crush seemed only the worse for wear.

Out of nowhere Gobartik appeared and slammed his little fists into the Emperor's jaw. The Emperor was staggered for a few moments underneath the vicious (and surprisingly strong) assault, but soon regained his footing. Gobartik raised his fist to strike again, but before it landed, Crush swept his sword down Gobartik's middle and the brave little elemental dissipated into thin air.

Ghonewyn staggered to her feet and raised her shield. Crush turned to her, raised his sword, and swung it down at her. She barely managed to deflect it, and she slashed a shallow cut into his forearm. Crush smiled, and backhanded her, staggering her. Crush was hellishly strong.

He raised his sword, ignoring a hail of arrows, fireballs, and divine energy from Drogin and repeatedly bashed it against Ghonewyn's shield, nearly crushing Ghonewyn beneath the force. The onslaught proved to be more than the protector could handle, and finally Crush cleaved the shield in two. Ghonewyn could feel her forearm snap. She screamed in pain and staggered away from the brutal onslaught. Crush smiled at her.

Ghonewyn shouted a prayer to Tunare, crying out for help. She laid her hand against her arm, and warmth suffused her body, repairing her arm and clearing away her other cuts and bruises instantly, renewing her strength and vigor. She picked up her sword in two hands and launched a series of vicious attacks against the Emperor. He impossibly parried them all with that giant sword, smiling all the while.

Ghonewyn heard a strangled cry behind her. She disengaged her attack and turned to see Conundrum clutching a dagger sticking from his back, a dark elf standing over him. Drogin was swinging his mace at the elf wildly, his aim perfect, but his blows were each dodged in turn with ease. A dark elf! Where did he come from? This was fast turning ugly.

Leilia drew her twin blades and set upon the dark elf on the opposite side of Drogin, flanking the dark elf. Ghonewyn was entranced by the beautiful, economical dance of death worked by Leilia. Where Ghonewyn's attacks were vicious, powerful and almost clumsy in comparison, Leilia's were quick, graceful, snakelike slashes and stabs. It was inconceivable that anything would survive that dance, but somehow the dark elf managed to evade both Leilia's and Drogin's simultaneous attacks perfectly.

The dark elf caught one of Leilia's swords in the crosspiece of his dagger, and with a flick of his wrist sent the blade flying. He swept Leilia's feet out from under her and she fell heavily to an elbow. He spun, parried Drogin's mace blow, and ran him through the chest with his rapier. He jerked the weapon free, spun, and kicked Leilia in the chin. Both Leilia and Drogin dropped to the floor, unconscious, Drogin's lifeblood pulsating from the awful wound.

Emporer Crush laughed. She turned back to him to see him leaning against his sword, point down on the ground and both hands resting against the pommel. "So, you like my dark elf friend? His name is Dvinn. He is really very useful, but I think that he would say the same of me. It looks to me that you are quite outmatched." Ghonewyn knew he was right. There was no way that she could fight both at the same time- she was having enough trouble with Crush alone.

Dvinn turned toward the other two combatants, hefted his weapons, and smiled a full mouth of white teeth. Thick white hair spilled about his shoulders. She thought he looked the most dangerous man she had ever seen. "I think, little girl, that it is time for YOU to die." He advanced slowly, inexorably, he and Crush the pincer of Ghonewyn's doom.

Oh well, she thought. If I am to die, I will die well. She turned to the dark elf and gripped her sword in two hands. She heard the swoosh of Crush's sword arcing behind her, and spun, parrying the blow. The impact shattered her sword, but threw Crush off balance. She reversed the blade and smashed the pommel into his chin, spun around and slashed a wide swath through the flank of his chain mail. She pulled the broken blade back, and with all her strength rammed it into his ribs. The broken sword sank in to the hilt. Crush roared in agony and backhanded her across the face. She flew away and struck the wall, hands cushioning her head against the stone.

On the fleeting edges of her consciousness she heard chanting coming from behind her advancing enemies. She turned her head, and saw Conundrum standing, casting a spell.

Dvinn and the Emperor turned. Dvinn seemed to recognize the spell, and cried out in protest. He moved to intercept the incantation, but Conundrum finished his spell in time. The world seemed to sparkle and fade around Ghonewyn, and the last thing she saw before the world melted away was Conundrum's smirking face.

An instant later Ghonewyn lay on her back in the Greater Faydark forest, alone. She sat up, but saw nothing around her but trees. Conundrum had given the last of his power to send her away, to teleport her to safety.

She screamed in protest. Honourable death was denied her, while her friends were left to their fate at the hands of Emperor Crush and that dark elf. She, for some reason, had been spared, while it was their fate to die.

Tears blurred her vision. She had once asked Conundrum where he got such an odd name. He said that his parents got really drunk one night and passed out. Nine months later, he popped out. Neither could explain where he came from, so they named him Conundrum. She would never speak with Leilia. She would never see the little gnome's scatterbrained smile again. She would never hear Drogin's words of wisdom again.

She now understood what Drogin had tried to tell her. Orcs had taken from her her friends, and were about to take everything she had ever loved. Now was not the time for mourning: it was time for vengeance.

She staggered to her feet, got her bearings and, clutching a broken arm, she limped back home.