Strengthening ties
"They what???" Sindel shrieked at Dran, her hands balling into fists at her sides. The normal, soothing answer she normally would have received from the high-priest at any other time did not suit Dran's fury. Dran had witnessed the Frost Giants' actions from the illithids' crystal scrying ball alone, for Sindel didn't want to return to the chamber of telepathic beasts. He had seen and heard it all: Sindel's ex-party was on its way to the spires of Darkmoon -- courtesy of the captain of the Frost Giants! That's what I get for trusting a tribe of refugee giants, Dran thought cynically to himself while pondering at Sindel's intently agonized facial expression. But he had been so sure of the giants' protection... He thought for a moment about the Prophecy he had read to Sindel, and how it mentioned friends to foes'; the high-priest sighed and hoped to god he was misinterpreting the old script. He knew he shouldn't let the old unmarked book haunt his thoughts as it had for the past week -- since Sindel's cursed team had decided to ravage his beloved temple.
Dran's voice was grading, "They let them pass, Sindel." He repeated, finding his own words hard to believe. Sindel spun away and covered her face with her hands; Dran shook his head, then, with a surge of anger, hit the small table that stood beside the altar in his personal chambers. The room went silent for a few moments as the two clerics were left to their thoughts. I should have known, Dran thought as he stared aimlessly ahead, but that's alright...I'm prepared for those meddling fools, they won't find their stay at Darkmoon pleasant any more -- I swear it! They're so close now... He would have kept rambling silently if Sindel wouldn't have spoken up, her voice calm now, "What type of impediment have you up here?" She asked and caught Dran's eye as he looked over at her. "My best." The high-priest replied, leaning his hands on his red and gold altar; he registered Sindel's blank expression and elaborated for her, "Mages, my dear, mages. Lots and lots of them. Members of the temple too; I keep the more experienced priests and priestesses up here so that they won't cause trouble with the younger ones who reside near the lobby. Generation conflicts are the worst." He said simply and found himself smiling al of a sudden. Sindel reflected his smile with one of her own, "Sounds good." She opted, "Now let's hope they keep their end of the bargain; I wouldn't want another Frost Giant episode to be pulled." She turned to look up at Dran; the high-ranking cleric's smile dimmed and a frown of concern replaced it.
"That would make me very angry...it could also cost us our lives." Dran gulped. He examined Sindel and a thought came to his mind that had never occurred to him before, "Are you sure you want to stay at my side in this, Sindel?" He asked, beginning to realize the finality of the danger that was building, "It could become very costly...and I'm not talking of finance." He said, his voice going serious and business-like. Sindel wrapped her arms around herself protectively and held Dran's gaze; she knew what she had gotten into when she accepted the high-priest's offer to become his high-priestess, and now that she thought about it, she admitted to herself that she had no honest regrets about her decision. She felt so much happier and valuable in the spires of Darkmoon than she had ever felt amongst her ex-party. She was accepted and understood at Dran's side, a rare feat that she had found no one to execute until then. It wasn't often in her life that she had actually been content; her prominent position within Darkmoon made her happy, it was what she had always wanted. And now she had it...and she had Dran to thank for it.
"I'm staying right where I am now." Sindel declared gravely, her blue eyes shimmering with unshakeable decisiveness. Gratefully, Dran planted a kiss on Sindel's forehead and hugged her to him.
***
Will concentrated with such effort on Khelben's image that his brow was soaked with sweat, "But Khelben, we're so close to reaching our goal!" He cried mentally, the image of the archmage dimmed and flickering with an unknown interference. "I tell you William, be very careful in your next moves. Everything you and the others do now is crucial, this is the part of the mission that proves wether you will succeed...or wether I will be forced to hire another team." Khelben Blackstaff warned with a haughty tone in his voice that tweaked Will's patience. The image wavered and Will cursed the disturbance, finding it extremely difficult to work with, "Yes, yes. Khelben? Are you getting as much trouble with the contact as I am?" He asked curiously. The archmage frowned and shook his head, "No. What's the matter?" He asked, a drastic change of subject from their previous, heated conversation. Will struggled with the telepathic link even more now; Khelben was a blur, "I don't really know, something's killing the link...I can hardly see you." He stuttered. Khelben said something in return but Will did not hear it for the contact between the two ceased abruptly.
"Damn!" Will spat, throwing the golden coin he held to the ground. The other members of the crew gathered around, confused expressions on their faces. "What is it?" Masoj asked and helped Will up from his sitting position. The cleric brushed off his crimson robes and glared at the whole team, "I can't keep a clear connection with Khelben." He said sharply, his annoyance now quite clear. Will's patience had greatly diminished since the team's arrival at Darkmoon but the priest hardly noticed. Coming up to face him was Meeks, her usual look of confusion pasted on her small features, "Does that mean we're alone now?" She asked, not sure if it really mattered seeing as Khelben was never that much of a help...he was actually the cause to some of their confusion concerning their mission. Will took a deep breath and bent down to retrieve his backpack, "Yes, Meeks. I believe it does." He said simply.
A mutual groan passed through the team and Meeks spoke up as they all turned towards the teleporter in hopes of leaving the Frost Giant audience hall, "Wait! I'm hungry, what about having some lunch before we walk into our deaths...hmmm?" She piped brightly and held her arms out for the others to gather around her. Pryzma coughed and narrowed her eyes at the little warrior, "Didn't Nightshade and I give you a sustenance ring?" She asked venomously. Meeks shrugged and then looked at her hand where the little golden ring shone brightly on her middle finger, "Um, maybe I broke it." She tried, somewhat disappointed that the magical ring hadn't taken full effect on her and desperate to explain her misfortune. Masoj covered his mouth and hid his smile. Pryzma slapped her hand to her head and rolled her eyes, "Gimme the ring, Meeks." She said quickly, gesturing with her open hand. Meeks, looking like a lost child, handed the ring over to the dark elven sorceress and interlocked her fingers innocently, "Can we still eat?" She asked anew.
There were no windows in the Frost Giant audience hall but San-Raal guessed it to be a little passed midday. Will, despondent, created a great big meal for all figuring it just might be their last. He didn't count on eating that night, he guessed the team would be quite busy running and hiding and fighting for their lives. He wondered if it was all worth it for a split-second, then named himself the team's moral advisor and kept his chin up; if he didn't keep his team from going corrupt like Sindel had, then no one would. It would be chaos.
"Anyone thought of Izzy lately?" Will asked as the crew ate greedily around him. Everyone looked up except Pryzma and Nightshade who kept eating. "Not really." Elyxya admitted sheepishly and blushed despite herself. At her side, San-Raal pushed his stark white hair back, "I don't mean to sound cruel, Will, but please...I beg of you...quit mentioning our losses, alright? It doesn't help the confidence factor." He said and downed a fifth cup of water. Undaunted, Meeks licked the bottom of her bowl of soup like an animal, "Where d'you suppose she is now?" She asked; Masoj watched her rude table manners and, gawking, slowly pulled the bowl away from her. She didn't seem to notice; instead, she reached for another bowl nearby. Will tried not to look directly at the fighter, "I don't know Meeks. Maybe Dran has her." He said thoughtlessly.
San-Raal shook his head, suddenly serious, "You have no idea how much I want to ruin that one." He said darkly, speaking of Darkmoon's High-Priest. The lithe drow blamed Dran for his years as a slave within the temple, even though he'd never seen the man in his entire life. He hated Darkmoon for having caused him the loss of his dignity. Elyxya looked over at him and frowned, "Is it the slave thing again, San-Raal?" She asked and San-Raal couldn't tell if it was a comment or a question. He challenged her gaze and smirked, "Yes, it is." He looked down at the floor when Elyxya's expression softened, proving her last comment to be a question, not an offense, "It was so shameful." He breathed. The group had veered their attention on the interesting scene folding out before them. Elyxya rested a strong hand on the mage's thigh, "We're all very sorry about your pain, San-Raal, especially me. But, don't you think you deserved imprisonment after causing the revolt?" She said tentatively. San-Raal looked over at Elyxya with the corner of his eye, his muscles tightened, "It's not the imprisonment we're discussing, Elyxya, it's the years I've passed as a servant!" His voice cracked on the last word and Elyxya knew that the wizard's temper had nudged its way into the danger zone.
"I'm looking over here now." Meeks said in a tiny voice and turned around to face the wall; she really didn't care to see her friends fight, not after all the fighting that had happened before -- and all the trouble it had caused. Elyxya ignored Meeks' comment and returned her attention on the fuming mage, "Look, maybe the clerics thought it to be fit punishment for the deeds you committed." She proposed optimistically; she knew the issue they were now discussing would have come up at one time or another the closer they got to Dran Draggore, it was inevitable. San-Raal's crimson eyes opened wide and he threw his arms out dramatically, "I would rather have died, Elyxya!" He cried, "Do you have any idea how long spiritual wounds remain? Much longer than bodily ones, I assure you!" He went on, raving like a complete maniac during a lapse. Elyxya's crystal blue eyes radiated kindness towards the panic-stricken drow, "I know, San-Raal." She soothed and reached out to touch the wizard's hand but he drew back instantly, "You cannot undo what is done. You're going to have to learn to live with it; that's what friends are for. That's what I'm for." She said, and San-Raal's hand did not draw back when she reached out to touch it a second time.
The group was utterly silent now, as San-Raal and Elyxya stared at each-other in silent contemplation. San-Raal cocked his head and gave Elyxya a half-smile, "Are you in love with me?" He asked slyly. There were no gasps amongst the team; Masoj smiled knowingly at his fellow mage. Elyxya grinned suddenly and her hand tightened around San-Raal's, "No use stating the obvious, drow. And you? Are you in love with me?" She asked softly; San-Raal's half-smile became a grin and Elyxya pulled the mage to her and kissed him kindly on the lips. Nightshade and Pryzma blushed and began to clap with delight.
"Is it over?" Meeks asked, still facing the wall with her hands covering her ears. When she got no answer, she turned around and beheld her team in a state of happiness; Nightshade and Pryzma clapped cheerfully at San-Raal and Elyxya who were entangled in each-other's arms, Will smiled wide and held his hands together thankfully, and Masoj threw his arm around Meeks' shoulders playfully. "So it's over." She declared to herself and leaned her head on Masoj's shoulder, figuring it was the proper thing to do at that time.
***
In the illithid chamber of the spires of Darkmoon, Rain and his fellow mind flayers congratulated themselves for their last move. The seven-man party was now completely cut off from the outside world; telepathic conversations were impossible now that the illithids had erected a silence wall around the temple's entire structure. Dran would be pleased, Rain knew; Khelben could no longer interfere in his affairs. The wall had taken quite some time to build' and had cost the illithids a hefty sum of power; fortunately for them, they had a lot more.
"Ooooh ugh!" Came a high, feminine voice from the doorway of Rain's chambers. The illithid leader looked over to behold a short, orange-haired woman who was being held by two mind flayers. Rain shook his gelatinous-looking head, "Welcome, Elizabeth." He said telepathically to the disgusted young lady.
Izzy couldn't believe what see was seeing. The creatures were so repulsive! She had been taken away by the mantis warriors down in the Test of Faith and had been drugged; she had regained consciousness that morning to find herself in a richly-decorated and carpeted room. She had immediately been taken away again by two creatures who spoke to her through her thoughts. They brought her to a set of intermingled chambers where more of the ugly creatures worked; they kept telling her she had to speak to Rain.
"What do you want from me?" She asked desperately, unable to believe her rotten luck; in the corner of her eye she saw a large crystal sphere, and in it, she caught a fleeting glimpse of seven people whom she recognized from not to long ago. Before her, Rain approached, his long robes rustling on the blood-colored carpet, "You are going to be very useful to us, Elizabeth." He said in her mind, and the two illithids who held her let go and drifted away silently.
***
"Fine," Meeks complained as Pryzma gave the ring of sustenance to Will, "give it to him then!" She pouted and Elyxya hit her on the back of the head as she walked past her. Everyone was ready and waiting in front of the hovering, pink-crystalline teleportation crystals. This was it; this was the point they had to cross to go from doable danger' to too much danger'. Will wrung his hands and turned back to the others, "Are we ready?" He asked symbolically; he got in return six pairs of determined eyes. Alright then, he mumbled to himself and exhaled sharply, "Let's go."
He disappeared first, followed by Meeks and Elyxya, Masoj and San-Raal, and Pryzma and Nightshade last.