"This place has seen better days," Marcus remarked as they approached Crossroad Keep. The Keep's outer wall had been clearly breached in several places, rubble still strewn about after all these years. What the harbourman could see of the main Keep looked to him as if the roof had fallen in long ago. Even the road that led up to the Keep was in a poor state of repair.
"Look… that farmer... they didn't even bury him, they just left him for the vultures," Shandra said as she noticed the decayed corpse of man near the roadside. "Why would they do this? It's… monstrous."
"The Luskan military… or what passes for such and the Hosttower are sadly not known for their treatment of ordinary folk. That and they didn't want anyone informing Neverwinter of their presence here," Sand replied.
"Don't worry, Shandra, we'll see that he and anyone else gets a proper burial once we're done here," Marcus said. "We can do that if nothing else." Casavir nodded his agreement.
"Thank you, Marcus. These poor people deserve as much," the farm girl said with a sad smile.
A moon elf came running across what once had been a farmer's field, but now was nothing more than weeds in a paddock. "Squire, my name is Vale and I'm leading the Many-Starred Cloaks," he said as he motioned off to the left, behind a burned out farm house. "This way, quickly, before the Luskans notice your arrival."
Marcus and his companions followed Vale as quickly as they could to where the rest of the Cloaktower mages and Greycloaks were waiting.
"The Luskans change guard shifts around this time, moving men in and out of the Keep," Vale said. "However, we can't waste much time. We were able to translate some of the writing in that journal you recovered from Arval, and if we're right, something very bad is taking place in there," the wizard said with a worried frown. "I recommend we strike hard and fast, hopefully taking them by surprise and disrupting their plans."
"Neesh, keep a look out, watch the main gate," Marcus said to the tiefling, who nodded and slipped into the shadows. "Alright, sounds reasonable, what are we up against?" the harbourman asked, turning back to Vale.
"Around twenty Luskan soldiers in the courtyard… most of them asleep… and a handful more inside the Keep. The Arcane Brotherhood wizards will be more of a challenge, but we can handle them," Vale said confidently.
That made Sand frown. "You're not certain of the Brotherhood's numbers?" he asked. It was clear to Sand that Vale had no idea that Garius was inside.
Vale waved his hand dismissively. "Luskan is just probing our defences. The Hosttower wouldn't risk too many wizards on this sort of mission."
"Vale, you haven't been told the full story have you?" Sand asked. "We are here to stop Black Garius from completing an unknown ritual that as you put it is very bad for all of us if he succeeds."
The Cloaktower wizard went slightly pale. "Nasher never mentioned that," he muttered. "It's going to make things more challenging, but we should be alright if we strike hard and fast."
"Hey, harbour boy, the Luskans are opening the gate!" Neeshka hissed. "Looks like it's showtime." The tiefling was having a hard time keeping the eagerness out of her voice.
The Luskan gate guards were taken almost by complete surprise as the Neverwinter assault force made up of Marcus, his seven companions, twelve Greycloaks and ten Cloaktower mages, descended on them. With the first obstacle eliminated, the assault force made its way into the keep courtyard as quietly as they could. Neeshka grinned when she spotted a group of five Luskans asleep round a fire that was all but out. The tiefling summoned a greater orb of fire before hurling it at the sleeping solders. The orb of fire hit the dead centre of the campfire before it exploded, killing the five Luskans.
"If I didn't know any better, Neesh, I'd say you're enjoying yourself," Marcus said, a little worried.
"Well… maybe just a little, harbour boy," the tiefling replied, looking guilty. "After what they've put you… put us through, it's good to get some payback, you know."
"I know, Neesh, but all I ask is not to get too joyful," Marcus said. "I don't want to lose you to your heritage, sweetheart, I love you," he said, kissing the tiefling quickly on the cheek.
"We're under attack! You, men… get back in there and seal the doors!" the Luskan captain shouted as two of his men dashed up the rise to the Keep entrance. "Rally to me! Push these Neverwinter dogs back!" he cried, charging.
"Hey, who are you calling a dog, pig face!" Neeshka cried, as she let loose with a magic missile barrage before she drew her rapier and got up close and personal.
"Damn it," Vale said with annoyance after the last Luskan fell. "Nathe, Sevann… I want those doors open. Now," he said, and then turned to Marcus. "Sorry about the delay. This should only take a moment."
Marcus shrugged. "It's all right. Battles are usually unpredictable, more often than not."
"Vale, we're being counterspelled. I don't think we're going to be able to open the doors from this side," Nathe said.
"Oh, wonderful. Looks like the Brotherhood has a few tricks of its own. No thanks to Garius, I'd imagine," Vale grumbled. "All right… backup plan. I know this keep has an escape tunnel somewhere," he said, turning to Marcus. "Squire, I want you to find the tunnel exit and use it to get inside the keep. Once you're inside, kill whichever wizards are countering our spells so we can open the doors. The tunnel entrance will be in the mountains, far beyond these walls, where invaders would be unlikely to look," Vale explained to the harbourman.
"Alright, we'll go have a look around, see what we can find," Marcus said as he and his companions left the keep courtyard.
"All the grand adventure tales never say how much walking, running and fighting is actually involved, do they?" Sand remarked dryly, not the he really minded too much. He was out of his shop and had good company.
"What are you plotting, Mephasm?" Ammon asked as he walked up to the pit fiend.
"Why should I bet plotting anything?" Mephasm replied, a fake innocent expression firmly in place.
The warlock snorted. "You're a devil, that's what your kind does."
"True, maybe I am plotting somewhat, but only to insure that the King of Shadows is defeated permanently this time. The lower planes gain nothing if he wins. In fact, we stand to lose a great deal," Mephasm said as he summoned an image of Marcus and Neeshka again. "The githyanki call him the Kalach-cha which, as I understand it, translates to mean shard bearer, which is appropriate, considering that's what he is."
Ammon frowned. "Mind explaining what you mean by that?" he asked.
"What I mean, Jerro, is this. The young man has a key part of the silver sword embedded in his chest, that part calls the others. That is why he has found as many fragments as he has." The pit fiend looked the warlock square in the eyes. "It also means he is the only one who can reforge and wield the sword against the King of Shadows."
Ammon Jerro cursed under his breath. "And you're telling me this now? Why?" he demanded.
"I've only just becomes aware of most of this recently. Also, you never asked," the pit fiend replied, matter of fact. "However, that does not mean you don't have your part to play. He'll seek this Haven out in time. He knows you had a silver sword. Possibly, by the time he comes here, he may have realised he's been finding the pieces of that sword. You now hold a piece of the sword, so your meeting will be inevitable."
Ammon grunted. "Even if he did manage to find this place, there's no way for him to enter."
Mephasm smiled. "That's where you're very wrong, Jerro. You are not the last of the Jerro line as you seem to think. There is another. The two of you will meet when the time is right, but you must be aware and do not do anything... rash," the pit fiend warned.
Ammon sighed heavily as he hated it when Mephasm was cryptic about something. "So what does the tiefling girl have to do with all this?" he asked.
The pit fiend rubbed his chin in thought. "Ah, that, my dear Jerro, would be telling, now wouldn't it? She has her part to play, as do we all. She moves out of the sight of the lower planes, quite the achievement." Mephasm frowned a little. "Though I did not foresee her... bond with the shard bearer."
Ammon gave the pit fiend a curious glance, then looked at the image of the pair and began to chuckle. "Are you trying to tell me, Mephasm, that even with all your carful plotting and scheming, you failed to take into account human feelings?" he asked.
"Yes," the pit fiend replied shortly.
Ammon began to laugh. "So your pet project," he waved at Neeshka's image, "and he are... lovers, and you never considered that might happen?"
"No I didn't," Mephasm admitted. "I had thought the stigma of her heritage would be enough, though in this case it seems to have backfired." The pit fiend smiled slightly. "Not a total loss."
Ammon now had his laughter under control. "It pleases me greatly that even people such as yourself are as fallible as the rest of us."
"Nothing human has passed through this tunnel in some time… it has seen use by beasts, but nothing more," Elanee said as she stood up from studying the escape tunnel that would lead into Crossroad Keep.
"If by beasts, I hope you don't mean the size of that huge glow spider," Shandra said, looking ill.
The wood elf shook her head. "No, nothing of Kistrel's size. But there are likely to be spiders and beetles that call this tunnel home."
"Oh, wonderful," the farm girl muttered.
"Neesh, keep an eye out for traps and the like," Marcus said, looking into the gloom. "I wouldn't be at all surprised that there are some still here from when the keep was in regular use."
The tiefling grinned. "You got it, harbour boy."
In the bowels of Crossroad Keep, Black Garius stood in the centre of the ritual circle. Around him were four lesser Hosttower Mages, one standing at each of the four major compass points.
"The chamber is ready, Master Garius. The ritual may begin whenever you wish."
"Very well," Garius said as he looked round curiously, noticing the absence of their shadow priest allies. "Where are the Shadow Priests?"
"They took their leave, Master, once they were done preparing the chamber for the ritual."
"Deal with them when we are done here," Garius said, almost as an afterthought. "After this night, we shall have no further use for them... or their 'King of Shadows'."
"It shall be as you command, Master Garius."
"Then let us begin the ritual… order the rest of the brotherhood here at once," Garius said, as an evil smile spread across his face. "After all, we wouldn't want to keep Neverwinter… waiting."
"Oh. I say... I remember you," Aldanon said, sounding a little distracted. He turned to face Marcus and his friends as they came out of the old escape tunnel and into what had once been the keep's library, though like the rest of the building, it had seen better days. "You were the one with those interesting silver shards." The sage frowned a little. "Although I'm afraid I'm not certain if I introduced myself the first time we met." He looked up at the harbourman. "Did I?"
"Yes, you did, Aldanon," Marcus said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, excellent, good to see I haven't completely forgotten my manners. Tend to be a little forgetful at times, you know," Aldanon said with some relief.
"I'm aware, all too well," Marcus said dryly. "We're here to rescue you."
"Oh, yes, that's right, I was captured, wasn't I?" said the sage, surprised. "Truth be told, I totally forgot about it… they gave me these tomes and some peace and quiet, and, well, I suppose I just lost track of time." Aldanon waved to a pile of books on a small table. "You see, these books... They all concern some sort of horrific ritual, something about bringing shadows and power to all the recipients involved," he said, surprised, as what the ritual entailed began to sink in. "I haven't gotten all the details down yet, wanted to do a thorough study first, but it all seems terribly threatening. Don't care for it at all," Aldanon said with a shake of his head.
"Why would they have these books? What are they for, old man?" Neeshka asked.
"Well, I suspect they intend to invoke these dark arts. If so, they'd best be careful. The slightest disruption could have lethal consequences. Mark my words, it always pays to triple check all your wards and post guards to prevent interruptions if you ever plan to do something of the sort," Aldanon said. "You know, it does remind me of this one time where I had let my wards down to let a messenger in, and this kidnapper struck, completely uns..."
"We don't have time for this, old man," Neeshka said, her tail twitching. "There's a bunch of mages wanting to do this ritual, you know, like, as we speak…?"
Aldanon looked slightly alarmed at the tiefling's pronouncement. "Well, like I said… or think I said… I don't know if they'd actually try to do the ritual. It would be a foolish thing to do, very dangerous. They would need a lot of room and privacy for the ritual, so I would simply find a large room, with heavy doors, and a lot of chanting," the sage said, nodding. "That should be the one. But you young people worry too much about your elders... we're not the ones running headlong into danger all the time," he said, shaking his finger at Neeshka.
"They lied to you, Aldanon, so how do we stop this ritual?" Marcus asked.
"Oh... well, stopping it would be easy. Simply do what you young people do best… kick down the door and make a lot of noise," the sage said. "Like my gardener after one too many swigs from his wineskin."
"Right, we're going to go find them," Marcus said. "Get out of here, Aldanon, and warn Neverwinter."
"Well, now, I don't know if there's any hurry to leave, really… I'm certainly not concerned," the sage protested, as he turned back to the book he had been reading. "And there's all these wonderful books. Granted, my captors may have had an unusual way of getting my attention..."
The harbourman let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Katriona, escort the sage back to Neverwinter and make sure he gets there."
"Oh, very well… as long as I could come back later, you know. Save these books. I mean, they even have a copy of the Tome of Vile Darkn…" Aldanon said as Katriona came up to him.
"I'm not repeating myself, Aldanon! Get going!" Marcus bellowed.
"All right, all right! I'll leave at once," the sage said as Katriona led him to the escape tunnel. "This whole ruckus is probably about nothing, as usual, just like my 'kidnapping' in Blacklake... At least my kidnapper is prettier than last time," he mumbled.
"Remind me never to send anyone to Aldanon again," Sand said with a sigh.
"Nice work. I don't suppose you left any for us?" Vale asked as he and the rest of the Many-Starred Cloaks walked into the keep through the now open front doors.
"What? And give up some of the fun?" Khelgar asked. "Not likely, Pointy-Ears."
"So I see," Vale said, looking around at all the bodies. "In any case, we still need to find Aldanon and the rest of the Arcane Brotherhood... and Garius." Vale wasn't looking forward to that encounter.
"Aldanon was unharmed, and he's heading back to Neverwinter under the escort of Katriona, to make sure he gets there," Marcus said.
"Glad to hear it. Now, we should…" Vale said.
Sand looked around, very worried, as he studied the lights dimming all around them. "Ah... this would be the 'impending' part of our impending doom. But wh- ennnh..."
"What's going on? I feel... weak," Vale said.
"That'll be Black Garius's ritual. Which we need to stop," Marcus said grimly.
The Cloaktower mage swallowed. "Black Garius... Our chances against him are slim, and I'm being optimistic," he said, looking pale. "But we'll just have to keep going and hope for the best. May Mystra watch over us."
"Agreed. Whatever the odds, we need to find Garius and stop him," Casavir said with a nod, thankful that Marcus had sent Katriona away.
"Oh, look, a Shadow Priest welcoming committee, how quaint," Sand remarked as they passed through one of the few doors that were still intact within the Keep, and were confronted by four Shadow Priests.
"You may not pass, Marcus Cole. Our King forbids it. Garius will be reborn this night," the Shadow Priestess said with quite a bit of confidence.
"Really? I beg to differ," the harbourman said, casting a grater orb of cold point blank at the Shadow Priestess, who let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as she was snap frozen. Marcus averted his eyes; he had no wish to see the woman die. Killing a woman doesn't seem right somehow, the harbourman thought bitterly. But then, neither did killing those teenagers.
Neeshka, Khelgar and Casavir had soon dealt with the other three Shadow Priests the hard way, with their weapons. After the last priest had fallen, they noticed what looked to be two cell doors. One was open and was presumably where Aldanon had been held. The other was quite clearly sealed with powerful magic, as it was glowing a soft blue.
"Watch your fingers… a glowing door is rarely a good thing, I've found," Neeshka said as she reached out carefully and brushed a hand against the door, and then pulled it back by reflex. "Wasn't expecting that," she muttered.
"What's wrong, Neesh?" Marcus asked, as he came to stand along side the tiefling and brushed his hand against the door. "Seems alright to me," he said.
"Hey, blood of the lower planes, remember?" Neeshka said. "Whoever or whatever is in that cell isn't from around here if you get my meaning. They're likely from another plane. Take your pick as to which one."
Vale looked taken aback. "How can you tell that?" he asked. Sand stood just behind the Cloaktower mage, smiling. His tiefling student was a joy to watch.
Neeshka grinned. "Anyone with planar blood and mage training would be able to tell that the wards on this cell door are to prevent someone who is not of the prime material plane from escaping."
"Neeshka, my dear, I do believe you've been learning your lessons well," Sand said with a self satisfied smirk, one he made sure Vale saw. "However, that door is heavily warded and we don't have the time to undo them," the wizard said with a frown. "But once we've dealt with Garius and the rest of the brotherhood mages, it should be easier."
"Looks like we're going down," said Khelgar as he looked down a flight of steps, at the bottom of which were heavy double doors that would lead to the basement of the derelict keep. "Just hope these stairs hold together."
The mysterious woman, whose name was Zhjaeve, whom Aldanon had spoken to briefly, had stood up from where she had been sitting near the back of the cell when she'd heard the sounds of combat outside her cell door. She could now hear the voices of the harbourman and his party.
"Know, Kalach-Cha, that even if you succeed this night, you also fail," Zhjaeve said quietly. "For the Shadow King's power runs too deep in this place. After this night his power here shall wane but he will have what he desires." Zhjaeve turned and walked to the back of the cell once again and sat down. This time, however, she was facing the door.
"Uh... this doesn't look good," Shandra said as she saw the twelve foot tall blade golem guarding the doors to where the ritual was taking place.
"Oh, great… as if this thing wasn't bad enough last time," Neeshka grumbled. "And there's no portal to drive it through either," she pouted.
"Well, goat girl, looks like we finally have a decent fight on our hands," Khelgar said with grim glee.
The golem charged, but was met by Marcus, Casavir, Khelgar and Shandra. While the armoured warriors kept the golem busy and away from the spell casters, Sand, Neeshka and the Cloaktower mages unleashed their spells on the hulking metal monster. Elanee meanwhile did her best to keep the armoured fighters alive and fighting, healing the worst of their injuries, as the golem's massive blade wasn't all that easy to dodge. At last the massive golem toppled over in a shower of sparks.
Sand let out a resigned sigh. "I had hoped to salvage some of it to repair the one we have back in Neverwinter. Not much chance of that." The golem had fallen, nothing more than a heap of scrap metal.
The torches along the hallway suddenly went a dim, eerie red. "The effects from the ritual are getting worse. We're running out of time," Vale said weakly.
"You don't say, Pointy-Ears," Khelgar muttered as Elanee saw to his wounds.
"Let's get this farce over with," Marcus growled as he walked toward the doors in front of them. He could hear chanting from behind them.
Garius turned suddenly as the door to the chamber was kicked in by the harbourman, who quickly stepped through the gap and was followed by his six friends and the Cloaktower mages. "You four… ignore them! Keep concentrating!" Garius cried, his voice strained by the effort of the ritual. "The rest of you … kill them!" he ordered the remaining brotherhood wizards and their bodyguards.
The battle that followed was short and very chaotic, as there were spells of just about every conceivable kind thrown in almost every direction. Marcus, Casavir, Khelgar and Shandra engaged the Luskan bodyguards while Sand, Neeshka and the Cloaktower mages dealt with the brotherhood mages. Elanee seemed to be everywhere at once, healing anyone who needed it. No one was expecting what happened when the last of the Luskans fell, leaving Garius and his four lieutenants open to attack.
"Idiots! You're not focusing…" Garius yelled before he let out a horrid scream and burst into dark flame. The grim spectacle wasn't over, as then four jets of dark flame shot out from Garius and into his lieutenants, who also burst into dark flame. One by one his lieutenants died, letting out a blood curdling scream as they did so. The torches on the walls of the chamber returned normal as the last of Garius' lieutenants fell.
"What... have you done to me?" Garius gasped weakly, looking at Marcus. His outrage at what was happening was obvious to hear.
"You did it to yourself, Garius," the harbourman replied, as the Luskan wizard fell dead to the floor.
"What in the hells was going on here?" Vale asked, shaken, as the series of events began to sink in.
"What you see here, Vale, is the price one pays when attempting to use power without the means to control it… or understand it," Sand remarked, looking down at the remains of Garius.
"Hey, look in Garius' hand… or what's left of it," Neeshka said as she lightly stepped over to the Luskan's corpse. "It looks like…" the tiefling bent down, wrinkling her nose, and carefully retrieved what she'd seen before standing up and turning to Marcus, a big grin on her face. "Another silver shard. Here, you better keep hold of it, harbour boy," Neeshka said as she handed it to the harbourman.
"Thanks, sweetheart. Another piece of the sword, I guess," Marcus said with a slight smile.
"Well, it would have been nice to crush Garius ourselves, but it's a little more satisfying for him to be undone by his own ritual," Khelgar grumbled.
"We have prevented a great evil here…" Casavir said with a frown. "But something... something still feels wrong." He shook his head. "Perhaps it is simply the after effect of the ritual and its power?" The paladin didn't sound convinced by his own words.
"No, you are correct, Casavir, something is still wrong," Elanee said grimly. "The power here is what I felt at the heart of the Mere… and almost as strong." The druid looked round. "We have stopped this ritual, but we should remain on our guard. Shadow still touches this place… and these bodies."
"We need to report back to Neverwinter immediately and tell Lord Nasher what happened here," Vale said, looking and feeling out of his depth. He had no idea as to what was going on, and he really didn't want to. Not after what he'd seen happen to Garius.
"Alright, but I'm going back up and going to have a look at that cell we found. Don't want to leave any surprises for the next tenant, now, do we?" Marcus said as he turned back to the door.
Vale chuckled. "I pity whoever Nasher tasks with getting this place back in shape. After all, we were pretty free with slinging spells."
Marcus stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Who do you think Nasher will send?" he asked, a thoughtful look on his face accompanied by a slight frown.
Vale gave a shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine, squire, but knowing Nasher, it will be someone who's caught his eye and who he thinks is ready for such a promotion, not to mention the challenge."
"Alright, Cole, what's up?" Neeshka asked as they walked back up to the cell they'd found earlier.
"Oh… nothing really, Neesh," Marcus said with a rueful smile. "Just something that Nevalle said, back when I was about to face Lorne. He said that if I managed to defeat Lorne that Nasher had promised to grant me my own land and a noble title, if I'd wanted it." He looked over at the tiefling. "I've got an odd feeling part of that's going to come to pass… and soon."
Neeshka's eyes grew in size. "You don't mean…" she squeaked looking round the derelict keep. "This?"
"Maybe, Neesh," Marcus said with a shrug. "Who knows."
"As fascinating as this is, why don't we investigate that cell. That is why we came back up here," Sand remarked. "Ah… and look, the wards have collapsed now that Garius has been slain."
Neeshka easily dealt with the lock on the now unwarded cell door, and it swung open with a creek of its rusty hinges. Marcus stepped inside, casting a light spell as he did so, for it was very dark and he could hardly see. The harbourman could just make out the shape of a woman sitting on the ground against the back wall of the cell.
"I felt your presence before my eyes fell upon you... Kalach-Cha. Step forward, let me look upon you," the woman said in a sombre tone.
Now that Marcus was closer, he could see that at first glance the woman looked like a githyanki, but there was something about her that told the harbourman that she was anything but a gith. "How do you know that name? You look like a githyanki but something tells me you're not," he asked.
"Know that you are correct, Kalach-Cha. I am not one of those whose will echoes Gith's hatred. I have no blade to your throat, yet the githyanki would sooner kill you than speak to you. Know that is the reverse of the direction my people travel. I am Zhjaeve, a githzerai," she said, looking up at the harbourman. "Know this name our enemies have draped upon you… this Kalach-Cha… its sound travels far, even reaching the ears of my people. At first, my people thought our enemies had erred, that they did not know that of which they speak." Zhjaeve looked up at Marcus for a moment or two. "But here, now, as you stand in my presence, I see the truth. I did not think it possible… but the key by which you may know yourself lies within you." Again the githzerai seemed to consider what she wanted to say. "I know much of the problems that beset your people and mine… the reason behind these attacks upon your heart and home. You will have no greater ally in this than I. In exchange for my aid, it is my will I be freed… so that I might travel with you and aid you against these enemies." She looked around the cold damp cell. "This cell is abhorrent to me. It is a shackle of stone encasing me... it causes memories of the ways of the illithids to surface in my mind. I have born this indignity because I knew that it would bring you to me… and a greater truth will be known."
Marcus nodded. He only understood some of what Zhjaeve had said and he had the feeling it was going to take awhile to get used to her speech patterns. The harbourman extended his hand to the githzerai and helped her to her feet. "Alright, Zhjaeve, you can come with us. We're heading back to Neverwinter to see Lord Nasher," Marcus said.
"She's worse than that old loon, the sage," Neeshka muttered as they left the cell.