Freedrick shimmed out of the small hole. He stretched, overjoyed that he was finally able to fully move. He peered down in the hole and saw Faerune crawling toward the exit. He pulled himself out and coughed out some flem; there was dust everywhere in the small opening. Faerune grumbled under his breath, "If I ever have to do something like this again…" His voice trailed off, not fully finishing his false threat. He wiped his eyes with his shirt and gazed at his surrounding.

They appeared at the surface of Luclin, in the forest known as Shadeweaver's Thicket. Enormous sequoias towered in front of them, making the two feel even smaller then they actually were. Even the leaves were massive; each one was about as wide and as tall as Freedrick. A small dirt path cut through the mess of vines, thorns, and bushes. Faerune looked over at Freedrick. The little hobbit looked satisfied at his ability to find their way out. A small grin appeared on his round face. "I told ya this be da fastest wey. Da normal exit be 'bout four miles down that a-ways." He peered down the small trail. "This little path we got right 'ere will lead us straight to Shar Vahl, if that where ya be headin'."

Faerune looked confused. He had never traveled to Luclin before, nor ever even heard of this 'Shar Vahl' Freedrick mentioned. "Shar Vahl? And what might Shar Vahl be?"

Freedrick eyed Faerune, hoping he was being sarcastic. "Ah, ya dun't know what Shar Vahl is? Whair 'ave ya been man, hiding under a rock?" He waited impatiently for Faerune to confess his sarcasm, but it never came. "It'd be whair all da Vah Shir be livin'…ya know, da cat-people?" He kept his eye on Faerune. "Aye! Will ya say somethin' already?"

"Lets just go there, hopefully my name hasn't traveled up here." He was about to make stride for the path, when he looked at himself, then toward Freedrick. "Oh, and by the way, how am I supposed to get un-shrunk?"

"How am I supposed ta know?" He readjusted himself then skipped down the dirt road. Faerune angrily shook his fist at the little halfling. He quickly hid his anger as Freedrick looked back at him. "C'mon, Mr. Faerune! You'll get a lost without me!"

They walked through the valley of green, constantly twisting and turning as the path took new directions. Freedrick hummed softly to himself, then began to sing ahca-pella.

"The long and winding road, that leads to your door, will never disappear. I've seen that road before, it always leads me here. Lead me to your door. The wild and windy night, that the rain washed away, has left a pool of tears, crying for the day. Why leave me standing here? Let me know the way. Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried. Anyway you'll never know, the many ways I've tried, and still they lead me back, to the long and winding road. You left me standing here, a long, long time ago. Don't leave me waiting here, lead me to you door. But still they lead me back, to the long and winding road. You left me standing here, a long, long time ago. Don't keep me waiting here. Lead me to your door!"


Marekk sat at his desk. The prevailing winds behind him continued to howl throughout the night. He had heard the uproar and shouts from below as the crier read the proclamation. Tyrannicus was sitting on a small couch, snoring heavily. Marekk was perplexed how he could sleep with this wind billowing behind him. Even with the freezing temperature outside, the tower was a warm seventy degrees. Marekk chuckled to himself. He felt glad that he decided to have a set of lower-class radiation wizards take shifts heating the minaret.

The rainmaker walked in through the door. Marekk jumped to his feet and called out, "Guards! Seize this man! I do not have time for more of his ill omens!"

The guards were about to pull him back through the door when the rainmaker spoke. "I am not here to delivery more bad news. In fact, I'm here to deliver excellent news!"

Marekk impatiently tapped his foot on the ground. Tyrannicus was just waking up; he mumbled to himself on the couch and let out a big yawn. "Well then, tell us before I lose my patience."

"After I came to my conclusion about Karana dooming us to eternal cold, I decided to study where he might live, in case you did as you said and set out to defeat this god of storms. Karana lives in the Plane of Storms, a realm not unlike Norrath. So far, no one has been able to breach the crossroads of the other dimensions, known as the Plane of Knowledge. Well. no one has done it and lived to tell about it. All except one man."

Tyrannicus was now fully awake and intently listening to the conversation. "Well, tell us, who is this man?"

The rainmaker glanced at Tyrannicus, but kept most of his attention still on Marekk. "He is a lowly wizard of Erud. He was never good at any particular school of magic. He actually failed out of the school of Enchantrasism. No one knows his true name, but he often calls himself the 'magic warrior.'"

"Do you know where this 'magic warrior' is now?" Marekk asked, slowly feeling more pleased that he allowed the rainmaker to speak.

The rainmaker hesitated, then finally fessed up. "As a matter of fact…I do not have any clue." The rainmaker lowered his head in shame.

Marekk's calm expression quickly changed to one of outrage and disgust. "You don't know? You tell me all this and you don't even know where this man, the one key to maybe the fate of the Black Wizards, is?" He picked up his scepter charged the rainmaker.

Tyrannicus could only watch as Marekk beat the rainmaker. The pounding of the scepter almost deafened any noise inside or outside the tower. Tyrannicus looked into Marekk's eyes. They were filled with rage: not against the rainmaker alone, but against his position, his power, his authority; everything he used to want, he now hates. The rainmaker was just the newest 'whipping boy.' Blood spattered on the floor as Marekk pounded on the rainmaker's skull again, and again, and again. Scarlet red encompassed his scepter, his cloak, his hands, his face. The rainmaker lied on the floor unmoving as Marekk wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Guards, dispose of him secretly. I don't want anyone…anyone," he reiterated, "to know about this."

The guards shuffled in and picked up the rainmaker's body. They walked to the west wall of Marekk's office. One of the men who had a free hand pressed a slightly discolored brick into the wall. The room rumbled as a section of the wall lifted, and a small room appear. More bodies were placed against the walls, some still with bits and pieces of flesh hanging from their brittle bones.

Tyrannicus just sighed, shook his head, and went back to sleep.


Crassus walked along the rocky cliff near Lake Recondite. He could see many fish swimming back and forth, waiting for one of the travelers to lose their step and fall into their hands. He held Tilkin closer to him, being more careful about where his blind son put his feet. Abraham wasn't worried, though. He just kept his yellow scimitar in the view of the fish, showing he wasn't afraid to kill them all if he had to. Magus was following closely behind the party, studying the landscape around him.

Tilkin spoke softly to his father, "Pa, how much longer? This stench is getting to me." He used a free hand to plug his nose. The other rested on Crassus' shoulder.

"Soon, son. Soon." He peered into the black fog and shouted ahead to Abraham. "Abram, how much longer until we reach the surface?"

Abraham glanced behind him to make sure everyone was still there. He had been picking up the pace ever since he felt the slow incline become a little more diagonal. He motioned for the rest of the group to stop. He fixed Yelltar at his right and crept forward.

A scuffle of movement caught his eye. He could only pick out their frame through the haze: they were large, humanoid in shape; a small, thin tail flicked in the air. He heard a purr then more of the same figures appear in the fog.

Abraham yelled back, "Magus, shine some light on the subject!"

"As you command." Magus shuffled ahead and stood beside Abraham. He quietly murmured a spell. He pulled his hand quickly into his robe and lifted it high into the air. Moments later, a large flash of light illuminated the area.

The fog dissipated within seconds, revealing the figures in the haze. They were Vah Shir, cat-people descendents of the Kerrans. They cowered at the flash, shielding their eyes from the sudden influx of light. One of them hissed out words, "Ah, Erudite scum! We left Erud because of you and now your trying to drive us out of Luclin as well!" The cat reached for his dagger and threw it at Magus. The wizard pulled his hand into his robe and extended it at the pursuing object. The dagger stopped in mid-air and dropped to the floor. He mumbled another spell, and all of the Vah Shir's metal weapons were magnetized to Magus's outstretched arm.

Unprotected and caught off guard, the cat-men scattered. Abraham tried to pursue one of the Vah Shir who hadn't reacted as fast as the others, but the cat-man easily outran him. Abraham staggered back to the group, heaving in deep breaths. "Who were those…big-cat-things?"

Crassus and Tilkin had just run up after seeing one of the Vah Shir run by, making sure everyone was all right. Magus calmly replied, "Those, things, are Kerrans. They have tried to restart their society on Luclin, even calling themselves civilized, but they will always be savages in my eyes." He stared at his feet and ran his hands through whatever hair he had left. He looked up to see everyone staring at him. "Well, lets not dawdle, the exits right ahead." He spun around and walked in large strides, almost trying to run away from his emotional outburst.


Edwin entered the cavern followed by the barbarian Deedra. He huffed at the stench in the air and turned toward his companion in disgust. "Do we have to walk through here? It smells like rotting flesh." He waved his hand in front of his nose, pushing the pungent odor away from his face.

Deedra surveyed the grounds ahead. Many men and women were strewn about the cavern walls; blood smeared nearby as their corpses dragged against the stonewalls. She smiled at the carnage. Her barbarian blood could literally feel the destruction around them. "This has to b-b-b-be Abraham's work. If he was able to t-t-t-take down Harlk, he must have done this." She began to pursue the trail of bodies; she was almost certain it would lead to her criminal.

Edwin scurried behind her. "Deedra, wait up!" He tried to keep up with the barbarian, but her strides were much larger than his could ever be in his robe. Blood was seeping into his robe's fabric, causing the fray to turn crimson.

Deedra exited to small hallway and gazed at the camp. Not a single person was left standing. Men, women, children, they were all killed. Most had blank stares; she noticed only two were left with a look of horror. What kind of monster is this Abraham? She thought, Able to kill so freely without his victims even giving him the satisfaction of fear. I must meet this man! She motioned for Edwin to hurry up. Sometimes she got impatient with the little human. But it was her duty to protect him, and a barbarian would cause shame to his or her family if they failed a task they had promised to keep. Many barbarians would rather die then fail in the duty.

Edwin looked intently at the water. The beauty of it was not what sparked his attention. There seemed to be a current running through it. "Deedra!" he shouted, "I think I know a way to get out of this hellhole much faster!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small copper coin. He flicked it in the air and molded it into a platform. It was much thinner than last time since he had to spread out the metal more to compensate for the extra rider. He stepped onto the circle and helped Deedra on as well. In an instant, the two were speeding just above the water, creating a large wake billowing from both sides.


Marekk was still in his office, pacing nervously back and forth. "How many men do you think we will need to even stand a fighting chance?" he asked Tyrannicus.

"Are you thinking that you might have spoke too soon about killing this god, Marekk?" Tyrannicus was twirling his large bastard sword as if it were a small wand. Marekk glanced over at him. Tyrannicus gave a smile. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small case. He opened it slowly, revealing four rich cigars. He placed one of them in his mouth then stared at Marekk. "Could you spare a light, please, Supreme Justice Marekk?"

"You don't have to flatter me." He snapped his finger and a small flame ignited on the tip of the cigar. Tyrannicus puffed the smoke lightly and took the cigar out with his left hand's pointer and middle fingers. Marekk continued, "and no, I'm not backing out of my decision. Even if I wanted to, it's too late now." A knock came at the door. "Come in."

A small man entered the door and politely bowed. "Sir, I have received the numbers from the field. There are fifty-four bailiffs in the field, along with thirty-three attorneys."

"The judges man, what about the judges? How many, and what are their names? I want to have each and every one of them back here by sunrise," Marekk looked out the winding at the blizzard, "…well by normal sunrise any place but here."

The man straightened up. "Yes, sir. There are a total of sixteen judges in the field right now. They go as follows: Theodora, in Emerald Jungle, Besli, in Butcherblock Mountains, T'lane, just outside in Misty Thicket, Idplious, currently one board a ship in Erud's Crossing, Lans, whereabouts unknown, Sofirr, in East Karana, Micalangelo, in the Temple of Veeshan, Eany, in the Mountains of Rathe, D'mean, currently in a tournament in the Arena, N'catta, our informant in Shar Vahl, Nquyen, in the Grey, Ickabod, doing reconnaissance in the Swamp of No Hope, Ly'gee, in the Umbral Plains, Oasious, in…the Oasis of Marr, Tratin, in Shadeweaver's Thicket, Yinniy, in the Nexus, and Edwin, last heard from in Shadowhaven. We have already sent our tracking force to retrieve them and bring them here."

"Thank you," Marekk replied after taking the list of names out of the man's hands.

"The honor is mine, sir." The man exited the room, closing the doors on the way out.

"You'll never defeat Karana with a force like that," Tyrannicus announced mockingly. He placed his bastard sword in its sheath and reclined on the couch.

"And how would you know that?" Marekk was about to reach for his scepter when Tyrannicus gave a scolding glance at him.

"Karana is one of the main gods of the barbarian people. What seems like a deadly ill omen to you is really just a calm wind in a barbarians eyes. Halas has been hit constantly by storms three times the size of this. In a humans eyes, one might see a storm like that and say, 'Why is the god of storms incurring his wrath upon us?' I think of it as a test to his loyalty. You can go ahead and lead this war against the gods, but don't say I didn't warn you."