Parts Unknown - - -

--Knight Commander

Those things with tentacles weren't illithids, the tentacles were longer and tunics shorter and closer to real armor. I was happy to learn they weren't nearly as tough. They did share the funny head shape, and their arms bent in too many directions. And best of all, no brain whammies. I wasn't about to find out if they ate brains too, if I could help it. Swords worked nicely on them, even if I had to keep my swings close to my body and weaker. I was also glad I'd never really given up my longer swords for the shard one, or I wouldn't have had anything better than a dagger to fight with.

As soon as I had hurt them badly, perhaps mortally, they scooted away like they were in a chute. Still trailing blood behind them. What was strange was that I could see them pretty well, as long as they seemed within a hundred yards. That boded well for my seeing anyone who appeared more friendly.

Now that that bit of excitement was over, I still was lacking food, water, and direction. With them sliding away like that, I couldn't even try to search them for anything useful, like water. Or even pretty magic things to play with.

More time passed, in clusters of boredom, punctuated by an occasional small skirmish.

Renewable healing was keeping me in good shape that way, but creating water magically from a couple scrolls didn't do me much good when it blew away from me like a fast snow flurry, as soon as the spell completed. Casting it inside my cloak left it damp and clammy, but I could suck out some foul tasting water from it for a little relief. It did dry out unbelievably fast, providing me perhaps a cup or so of liquid each time. But I only had one scroll left.

It seemed like several more days passed, and my hunger grew to be a permanent gnawing inside, and the skirmishes became more difficult. I was even having fond thoughts of Grobnar's or Neeshka's cooking. But I wouldn't tell them. I tried to think of other things, but like the pink elephant, it was always in my thoughts to some extent.

Considering my companions again, I decided some were hopeless. They should be put down, if it was still necessary, as humanely as I could. Others had showed enough inconsistencies to not be a lost cause. Neeshka... and Bishop. Sometimes its not just a village that needs to be saved.

And I rejoiced again in the ones who were more whole and admirable. Even if they had been annoying at times. I hoped I could get the chance to continue traveling with them.

I was really, really bored, too. Keeping alert was getting to be more difficult, and I needed to doze off more often. Tentacle-guys were getting harder to beat with each encounter. And a couple of odd little curs came along with them. They were really fast, but I got through. It was getting harder, and faith could only sustain me for a while longer...

x x

I woke this time sitting on some kind of stone floor, and the smells weren't as neutral as before. There was a tang of something acrid in the air, and the air had that humid mustiness I associated with being underground. I didn't feel any real air movement. Not to mention, it was chilly on my bare skin, too much bare skin.

There was a dim red light off in one direction, which did not bode well for being in a friendly place. That, and the loss of my armor, clothing, equipment, and weapons. I could see okay enough, but I doubted others like Casavir would have seen anything. The clink of chain from far too close told me I wasn't going anywhere at the moment either.

The chains were attached to manacles on my ankles, running through an anchor ring that seemed to be growing out of the stone floor. While I could admire the use of a good stone shape spell, I didn't want to be on this side of it. No lock on them either. They must have been locked magically, and I had nothing left to improvise picks out of, either.

Still missing a gloating villain, but I had been left a small bowl of some foul looking chunky mush.

I doubted I was in danger of immediate execution. I clanked as I tested the slop with my pinky, which failed to sizzle from acid. When nothing seemed to happen to my finger after a few moments, I tasted it. It was some kind of grain and odd leathery chunk gruel, lacking any pleasing flavor. I wished I had had a spoon, then I decided I had to eat it anyway, slowly as my stomach was smaller now. My stomach was just happy to be filled, even though I was worried about poison or some kind of potion. The latter part of it had a metallic tang, reminding me of blood, and I reflexively spit some of it out. I didn't feel any different as a result, so I didn't force myself to throw-up.

Climbing to my feet, I tested the amount of motion I had. I could reach about three yards from the anchor staple at my longest stretch. There was a shiny, new rack within my circle, yet another bad sign for why I was here.

I was still alone.

So I tried to trigger one of the innate magics I had gained from those Illefarn altars; I didn't feel the warmth I usually felt when those blessing would work. And I may have imagined it, but the chains seemed to show an inrush, draining light and heat away from the area. The metal also developed a rime of frost and seemed almost cold enough to freeze water. While cold did hurt, the inrush also seemed too creepy for my taste. And after a time, it warmed back up, though my skin touching it seemed to be discolored from the cold.

After another time of boredom, I could see some movement against the tinted light, and turned in that direction, getting ready to dodge to the opposite direction of the chain's limits if I could. I still didn't hear any noise outside of whatever small noises I was making. It was moving towards me, silently.

As it came closer I could see two bowls, floating almost serenely towards me. If I squinted, I could almost see that something was carrying them. As it approached my circle, I tried to touch the figure, but it was as if I was grasped mist. The bowl carrier did not respond to questions or demands. I fancied it paused once, but I could have been imagining that. Once they reached the anchor ring, the bowls were set down, and the old bowl began to float away. All, still in silence.

I napped again, retested the new gruel, and ate it reluctantly. The second bowl contained a rag and water. Repeat, and repeat again.

It felt like three days had passed from my arrival here, when I awoke to an unfamiliar voice.

"Well, well. The Knight Commander at rest..."

x - x

A/N: Many thanks for my beta reader, who was graceful enough to help me with some very embarrassing errors in a story that has been posted this long. Any further errors are all still mine.