I looked up at Dimitri on his horse, my face conveying the incredulous anger and vitriol I felt, but he met my gaze unwaveringly. In his eyes, I could see the answers to my objections. There had not been time to find anyone else that was nearly as qualified and Dimitri had done his best, as I well knew, and there was no use getting mad because I could not have done better, which I also knew to be true. We had to accept his choices, or go without fighters, or not go at all. None of those were options we could seriously consider. So, leaving my harsh words unspoken, I greeted our newcomers.
"Friend Barrim," Brey began in his easy manner with an easy smile, "it has been too long. It is good to see you again."
There was something in the manner of how he said that that made me think he was telling the truth. But that had always been something Brey was good at, charming people. I would not allow him to befuddle me again into believing his sincerity. He looked almost the same, except for some lines on his face and the silver just starting to show in his hair. He was still handsome, but now he could add distinguished to his description. The dwarf was old, I could tell, even for his long-lived people. His braided red hair was losing its fight with the gray and his face looked like a craggy mountainside. He wore scale armor and well-battered spangenhelm with looping spectacles attached to the nasal piece the encircled his eyes, leaving the lower part of his face open.
"Barrim," Dmitri said as he gestured to the dwarf, "this is Karl Breakaxe. He is a dwarf of the Far Heights Clan.
"Welcome," I replied more to the dwarf than Brey. "I trust my Second here has explained everything to you, both."
That was not idle chatter on my part and I met the gaze of the dwarf steadily and with an intent he would understand. We had an orc in the party, and orcs and dwarves have been enemies for millennia. I did not want infighting in the group.
"Aye," he said in gravelly voice as he nodded his head, "he explained the party to us and what our roles are to be. Ye will find me willin' to fight beside any that is willin' to fight beside me."
"Then you welcome, Master Breakaxe," I replied with a nod. Gerrex, who was never far from me, as he still considered him to be my bodyguard, came out onto the porch with the rest of my curious crew. I saw Brey narrow his eyes when he saw the orc. He must have thought Gerrex had died in the pits. I think perhaps I noticed some confusion and doubt in Brey's expression and I decided that I would not explain to him how Gerrex survived. As for Gerrex, he was indifferent to seeing Brey. Had Brey insulted his honor he would have reacted violently, but merely delivering a killing blow in a fair fight was not something Gerrex would hold against someone.
"Let us go inside," I said in a louder than normal voice to everyone, "and I will make all the introductions then, over a pint of ale."
The inn was comfortable enough and the food bland but filling. We quickly settled into the normal pattern of behavior for an adventuring party. Rough humor and stories, some true and many embellished beyond recognition, were told as we drank the local beer. Near the end of this gray day, when there was only a few minutes of sun left in the sky, a courier came into the inn. He was young, with brown hair hanging down his back in a ponytail. He was dressed for riding in tanned leathers and knee-high boots, and he carried in his saddlebags over one narrow shoulder. He went to the inn owner who pointed toward me.
The man, spattered in mud from the road, came to me and spoke, "Are you Mage Barrim the Alchemist?"
"I am," I replied to the man as I stood up to meet him.
"I have a packet for you," the man said simply and handed me a bundle of vellum wrapped in oilskin to keep them dry. I took the bundle and gave the man a silver crown that he took with a crooked smile and touched his forefinger to his forehead as a salute. He turned to the bar for some refreshment and immediately began to gossip with the innkeeper.
I turned to my crew and they were all looking at me with great curiosity. I said, "This is just some information I requested on some magical matters."
The common room was too warm and smoky and a little dim, so I moved outside onto the porch where the sun's fading light was just enough to read by. Several of the pieces of vellum had references to the Bloodstone and a single sheet of vellum referencing the shining red wandering star of Illios and the Constellation of the Serpent. I read through the information twice before Dimitri came outside to join me on the porch with the night almost upon us.
"What news?" He asked softly so as not to be heard.
"I have received an answer to my inquiries from the Sages of the White Tower regarding the Bloodstone and of the Illios and the Constellation of the Serpent." I replied in the same soft tone.
"What does they have to do with our quest?" Dimitri asked puzzled.
"When I was summoned to the Stargazer's tower, I was brought up to the roof where he has his Dwarven-made farseeing device. I noticed it was pointed at the Serpent and that the wandering star was near it. I had remembered something my master had said about both of those things being harbingers of ill-omen. The Sages have sent me a report saying that these have indeed an evil reputation for many thousands of years and in many cultures. They have been said to be the cause of numerous political upheavals as well as disasters in nature. The most disturbing mention was a quote from an old Vangar manuscript that mentioned planar travel was easier when the 'Red eye of the Serpent Attus gazed upon the world'. I assume that is a reference to the Illios, known as the Red Star, being in the Constellation of the Serpent."
"The Drow mage and his portal," Dimitri said, stiffening.
"Yes," I replied, "I am certain if I was to look into it, we would find the Red Star was in the Constellation of the Serpent when that portal was opened. However, the Sages believe that this reference is to the Illios being inside the part of the constellation that marks the head of the serpent. That celestial configuration is fortunately very rare, happening every few thousand years."
"When was the last time the Red Star was in the head of the serpent?" Dimitri asked me.
"When the Vangarian Empire fell," I replied, "five thousand years ago."
"What of the Bloodstone?" Dimitri asked me after a few minutes of silence. The darkness of the night had settle upon us and only a few oil lanterns burned in the roadside village.
"There were three of them reported in history. All were lost, except we know about the location of one. It was a sort of primitive healing magic. It does not heal as say my regenerating ring does, it simply keeps the blood flowing in your veins until your body heals itself. I think that explains why our patron is so eager to have it."
"It would feed him?" Dimitri, who was no imbecile, was talking about Valker having made the connection between our patron's dietary necessities and the stones magical properties.
"I think you have the right of it," I replied, "and I think I know why he wants it. It goes along with your story about the boxes of earth your thief friend found. If he possessed the Bloodstone, he would no longer need people to feed on, the boxes of earth are meant to give him a place to rest during the day. I would bet my life that he has staged those boxes along routes that would allow him to escape the city of he had to do so."
"Friend Barrim," Dimitri moved in close and asked carefully and very, very quietly, "what would frighten an undead lord into fleeing like a common peasant?"
"My guess," I said in a soft whisper, "is whatever it was on the other side of the portal we closed in the swamp five years ago."
"Was there any word of the cult in those letters you received?" Dimitri asked.
"There was not," I replied. "When I sent off my inquiries, I did not know the Drow's cult was involved in this."
"I think we are in the thick of it," Dimitri replied.
"I think you are right," I said back to him. "Let us remove ourselves from the dark and rejoin our companions."
The sounds in the common room where jovial enough as we entered as some locals talked about their days and shared in the gossip with the courier who was holding court by the fire. Gerrex sat alone in a dark corner watching everything and not speaking to anyone. The serving maid nervously filled his mug when it went dry, but he did not even speak to her. Karl was telling some story of his homeland that Amenaruu, Godfrey, and his mercenaries thought jovial and laughed. Brey was talking to Helena and Charles and by the looks on their faces both of them had become infatuated with the warrior. I went up to the three of them and they stopped talking as I approached.
"Helena," I said, "I would like you to accompany me, please."
The girl's face told me that going somewhere with me was not high on her list of pleasant things to do, but she got up and followed me upstairs to my room. When I opened the door and indicated she should go inside she gave me a look of suspicion and distrust. It was an accusing look as well and I lost my patience.
"Oh, for the sake of all that is holy," I said vexed. "I do not intend to ravish you or seduce you. This trip will be dangerous and you need to be prepared. I am going to train you in the magical arts so you can cast more than cantrips."
"Very well," she said in an imperious tone and entered my room where my back lay against the wall.
I took out my spell books and folios and I went through them to find the mandalas that represent the Arcane Metalanguage. One was fairly simple, for spells of the first level and the other was much more complicated and was for the spells of the sixth level. All spells of a particular level are based on the same base of word images, which is the best way to describe the Arcane Language to non-magic users. Each individual spell of a particular spell level would use the same base but would have additional word images to accomplish the desired effect. I used a bit of gum to stick the mandalas to the wall about head height when one is seated on the floor. I put two small enchanted lanterns below each of the images on the wall to illuminate them. I sat cross-legged on the floor and invited Helena to sit next to me. She managed to express her displeasure at doing so while complying with my instruction.
"You must memorize this mandala," I said, ignoring her petulance. "Concentrate on it and then close your eyes and recreate it in your mind and when its meaning becomes clear to you, then you will have mastered. There will be some discomfort as the Arcane Language is not easy to learn."
"Could you not just tell me what it means?" She asked impatiently.
"No," I said sharply, losing my patience again. "The mandala itself will tell you what it means, if you have the ability to understand it. Of course, your magical ability may only be suited for cantrips and even this first level mandala will be beyond you mind to grasp."
Her ability to do magic, which composed a great deal of her self-image, was insulted by my suggestion that it was too feeble to be of real use, so she stared at the mandala with an angry intensity, her lips tight together. I knew that such negative emotion would make the understanding of the mandala harder and therefore more painful, but I let her have her own way. She would be the one to pay the price after all.
For myself, I practiced the breathing routine my friend Chai had taught me, taking in a long deep breath, holding it for a few heartbeats and then releasing it slowly. It was the same technique I used to quiet my mind when it wanted to fall into panic. I had long ago found out that it not only calmed me, it helped me to concentrate on the mandala so I could discover its meaning. It did not do anything about the headache I would have later, but it helped in the learning.