Faerune stared into the night sky. Stars were twinkling in the black, Norrath stood ominously close. He could make out the continent of Antonica, along with the western half of Faydwer. It seemed like only yesterday when he was thrown out of Freeport. That Abraham! he thought. He banishes me from Freeport then expects me to forgive and forget? He was completely unaware that Freedrick had stopped. Faerune almost stepped right on top of him.

"Whoa, there! Ya dun wanna me to be smooshed now, do ya? Freedrick pronounced. "We set camp 'ere for tonite."

Faerune examined himself. Wow, he pondered, looks like the potion wore off. Faerune pulled out Avenger and made a large circle around himself. He then reached into Freedrick's backpack and retrieved a long rope. He wove the robe into the small trenches made by his sword. He kicked away all the dry leaves and twigs and brushed off the dust in the circle. Freedrick came skipping back with armfuls of firewood. He placed the logs in the middle of the circle, making sort of a teepee shape. Faerune reached for some flint he had in his pocket, when Freedrick stopped him. The hobbit pulled out a small horn and played a fiery tune. Almost immediately, the logs ignited and a roaring fire was amongst them. Freedrick pulled out two wolf hide bundles and unrolled them on the ground. The bags were sown shut on all but one side, where someone could slide into it. Freedrick sat on his and asked, "Mr. Faerune, how did ya come to Luclin? Not a many people come 'ere withoot some sorta reason."

Faerune first looked at the halfling reluctantly, but the hobbit had been good to him so far. "Well, I could read you my journal." Faerune began to fumble through his pockets. "I started writing in it after my first day of travel." He re-looked in each of his pockets, but couldn't find the book. "I wonder were I put it…ah, no matter, I can tell it to you without the journal."

Freedrick listened intently as Faerune recited his life story. The flame crackled in the cool night air; small flecks of soot flew into the air like fireflies as Freedrick nudged the fire with a stick. He listened as Faerune told him of the Temple of Marr, his exile, the war against the good elves; his time in slavery; and the dream of Trakanon. Faerune sighed, "Where did that stupid book go?" He looked into his right pants pocket and saw four small pieces of paper. They looked as if they had been ripped off of something. He grabbed the papers and studied what was written on them. "Oh, here's a bit of it."


"I followed my captor…into the forest. It seemed as though we were heading west. He kept on telling me that there was something I needed to see before we went for the ruins of the Combine. We had been traveling at this brisk pace for almost five hours now, and it showed no sign of stopping soon.

We came into a clearing in the woods. A small pool was positioned in the middle of the opening. A large, jagged rock was teetering over the pool, making a reflection that looked like a large mouth. Fish darted back and forth in the water, creating small ripples at the surface. My captor stood beside it. He spoke softly, in a calm voice, "Come, Faerune, look at yourself in this pond. It is a revealer of souls, a revealer of destinies."

I looked at my captor. He had obviously gone off the deep end sometime in his life, but he had the upper hand, so I obeyed. I knelt next to the pond and looked into its crystalline waters. I saw myself, same as always. I looked quizzically at my captor. He motioned me to look again. I again obeyed and saw myself in a new light. My face was different. Skin was dangling from my jaws; black puss oozing from my ears. My eyes were bloodshot; my hair was thinning.

I reached to the pond to touch my new face. My hand slowly submerged into the water, then I pulled it out. The reflection changed once more. I saw myself standing before a black throne. Decay and disease consumed everything around me. I was holding Avenger in front of me. It was burning as bright, if not brighter than it had in my dream. A large zombie shaped figure stood before, laughing as dead flesh dripped off his body. Then the same scene was replayed, except it wasn't me holding the sword…It was someone else."

He looked up and saw Freedrick sleeping soundly; his chest rose and dropped as he breathed heavily. Faerune smiled, placed the papers back in his pocket, and snuggled himself under the wolf sleeping bag. He closed his eyes; a pair of red eyes opened up beside the camp.


Abraham exited to caverns, finding himself beneath a canopy of trees. A well-made path lay before him; a wooden sign with the words "Shar Vahl" pointed down the path. The rest of the party emerged from the caves. Tilkin felt a leaf brush against his skin as it floated down to the earthy floor. "Where are we now, Pa?"

"I think it is the Shadeweaver's Thicket. We'll be heading to Shar Vahl to ask for any information once dawn breaks." Crassus pulled out a large tarp from his backpack. He reached into another pocket on the pack and retrieved some string. He found two suitable trees nearby, not too far off the road. He jumped up to get the string around a low branch, but every time fell just inches short. He backed up, ran as fast as he could, and leapt into the air. He underestimated his leg strength and was sent hurling toward the redwood. He closed his eyes and braced for impact, but it never came. He heard a faint crackle, as if made by breaking glass. He opened his eyes to find himself centimeters away from the bark. He looked at his feet. Why am I floating? He thought. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Magus holding his left arm out in his direction. Crassus chuckled, "Always good to have a wizard around." He flipped the string over the branch, then walked to the other tree and strung it up similarly. He hovered back to the path and picked up the tarp, brought it to the trees, and threw it over the string, creating a small triangular tent. "Come, Tilkin. The tent is up." He grabbed hold of his son's jacket and led him to the tent.

Magus let out a large yawn. "Well, time to hit the hay." He chanted a small spell and was covered by a dark cloak, camouflaging him in the brush.

Abraham stood guard. He propped himself against a tree and tipped his hat over his eyes. He thought back to how everything started. His mind raced back to the day he exiled Faerune…


It was an unusually hot day. I had just put on my armor in anticipation of my crowning. Too bad I had to obtain it in such an unworthy manner. But soon I would be leader of two households: the Paladins of Marr, and the Freeport Militia…

I went out to the gate to officially exile Faerune. I feel sorry for him. He just joined the ranks and now has to take the blame because of my father's greed. But Sir Lucan has him captive, and if I don't look convincing, they'll kill him. I guess I have to choose the lesser of two evils…

He gave me an awkward glance; he seemed to have a holy fire of redemption in his eyes. Oh, Marr, I hope this isn't an ill omen. You'll understand that I had to do this to save your most loyal servant…

Lucan summoned me to his cambers. Did I do something wrong? Is Father all right? I hope nothing has happened to him…

Lucan told me that I was unworthy of being the lord of the Paladins of Marr. He withheld my induction and claimed himself as the right heir. What's worse is he killed Father! Why did you do this to me, Marr? What did I do to incur your wrath?…

Lucan turned the tables on me even more. He now revealed that I was responsible for the destruction of the Temple. I tried to explain that it was to save Father, but the council would here none of it…

I have been sentenced to death by guillotine. They are holding me in a cell underground until my execution the next day…

Looks like my reputation can pay off. Seems that a group of shadowknights raided the prison and released me from my cell. I have to find Faerune. I have to tell him why I have done all this…

I've been searching for days in the desert of Ro but there has been no sign of him. I could have looked harder, but people are looking for me as well…

I asked some of the barbarian fishermen if they had seen anybody through here. They said they saw him go through the tunnel in the mountains. He must be heading for High Pass Hold…

I have just arrived in High Pass. Only an old crow knew of a suspicious man running away about a week ago. I paid here for her trouble…

I have heard that he has been using the last name of Silvanis. That clever man, he must be trying to get to Faydwer…

Freeport is inaccessible right now. Sir Lucan has stopped travel in and out of the city due to the recent emergence of a small group of zealots known as the Black Wizards. They have been preying on the people of Freeport and have sent a proclamation to Sir Lucan himself to rebuke his crime or be killed. I'll have to find a different route…

I'm in luck! A barbarian woman said that a large fleet had set sail from the Oasis toward Kunark. They were lead by an imposing human, shouting orders in an extremely harsh tone. If only I could get to Kunark…

A gnomish pirate agreed to transport me to Kunark, but he said that he'd drop me off in the Field of Bone…

I made it to the Overthere just in time to see the last few slaves dragged away into the area around the Lake of Ill Omen…

A large uprising was stomped down by the Iksar. I hope Faerune wasn't killed in the slaughter…

I came across a peculiar pond today. It was clear and cool, but it seemed to reflect an aspect of your life. When I looked at my reflection, I saw not a warrior, but a mender of wounds. After that, it showed me in the middle of a plethora of monsters, all oozing with disease. I was protecting two gnomes who seemed unworthy of gracing any battlefield…

Thank you, Marr! I learned that Faerune is still alive and leading an army into battle against the Sarnak at Ill Omen. Maybe I can catch up to him during battle…

I saved Faerune today from certain death. His Iksar companions were not as lucky; the Sarnak overwhelmed them. There was nothing I could do…

He woke up today. Thank goodness he didn't recognize me. Man, my hand is bleeding profusely. Had to lay on hands…my hands…

Faerune was talking during his sleep. He kept mumbling the words "Trakanon" under his breath. I had to wake him up when he started screaming. I told him we were going to the Dreadlands soon…

I made a detour to that pond. Faerune seemed reluctant to look in, but I could see he was glad he did afterward…

We stayed in a small cave that night. He seemed fixated on the words he wrote on the wall: Doom, prophecy, fire, and a riddle that I can't even read…

Damn him! He figured me out and now he won't even look at me. I tried to explain but he just ignored me just like all the others! Now, I'm afraid to sleep. He might kill me the first chance he gets…

He fought again today at the ruins of the Combine. He kept on rambling on about some prophecy and that me being here only hampered his progress…progress for what? What is he trying to do?


Deedra was gripping Edwin's cloak as they sped through the canyon. The walls were a blur; nothing stood out in her mind. She peered ahead and saw a blur of a person. "St-t-t-top!"

Edwin jumped from the sudden scream from behind him. He let the magic controlling the saucer loosen until it finally came to a halt. Deedra leapt off the platform, as it was still moving, jarring the dust beneath her from its dormant state. She drew her sword and shouted at the thing on the trail "Halt! In the name of the Black Wizards!"

The hooded figure glanced behind itself, catching a view of its follower. It reached into its cover and retrieved a small group of marble-shaped contraptions. It spiked the balls on the ground, then dashed away.

Edwin lunged his hand for the escapee and grabbed it with his magic. He lifted it in the air and silenced its curses.

Deedra was about to make chase when the ground began to tremble. Out of the earth where the thing threw the contraptions sprouted several vines littered with thorns in groups of four. In the middle of these groups stood a small bushel of leaves. The leaves opened revealing shoots of powder. They sprayed Deedra with full force, knocking her off her feet. The spores clung to her armor, eating it away as if it was paper.

Deedra screamed in pain. "Deedra!" Edwin shouted. The thing spoke in a dark, decaying voice, "If you wish to see her alive, you had better start helping her quick!" Edwin released the beast and rushed forward to Deedra. He quickly thumbed through his book of spells, looking for some sort of dispel magic. He found cure disease. It was weak but he was losing time every second. Deedra was now naked and fully exposed. The spores were eating at her skin. Edwin shouted "Be-gone, evil plague! Go back to the dead where you belong!" Mana sprung from Edwin's fingertips as the spores released their grip on Deedra. A faint scream of pain was heard as each one of the spores burst at its seams.

Deedra moaned in pain. The spores had taken off the first few layers of her epidermis, leaving most of her exposed nerves and membranes out in the atmosphere. Edwin summoned a stack of bandages and insanely draped Deedra in them. "Please, please wake up. Don't let her die, council. Please don't let her die!" His voice echoed throughout the caverns.

She opened her eyes. They seemed different, almost greener than the brown they used to be. It did not matter to Edwin. She was alive and well. She staggered to her feet, disoriented and dizzy. When she finally came to her sense, she turned to thank Edwin. He speech somehow seemed different. "Th-th-th-thank you, Edwin. If you hadn't-t-t-t done something, I pra-pra-pra-probably would be d-d-d-dead!"

"Well, I'm glad your O.K. Lets get moving, shall we? I can't stand the sight and smell of this damned-able lake." Edwin spun around and began to tread forward.

A devilish smile ripped across Deedra's face. "You'll be s-s-s-seeing this lake for a long t-t-t-time, Edwin!" She drew her kukri and rushed toward Edwin. In one flowing motion, she placed the blade on his neck and sliced it across his throat. Blood spewed from the new hole in his neck, covering her blade.

Edwin's body fell limply to the floor. His cold hands gripped his blood-covered robe. Deedra kicked Edwin swiftly in the gut, sending his body hurtling toward the blue. He landed with a magnificent splash, creating large wake on all sides of him. His body sunk, bubbles emerging from his slit throat. His arm floated to the top while every other part sank. The fish nearby converged on the corpse, ripping it to shreds.

Deedra laughed to herself. She turned and trotted down the beaten path. With every step, her bandages transformed into threads of deep black metal. In her tread, maggots, roaches, all sorts of vermin spontaneously appeared, scurrying away seconds later.


Marekk's office was full of men. All the judges that could make it had arrived and were awaiting orders from the Supreme Justice.

The blizzard was continuing its never-ending wail just outside the minaret. No city stood around its base. Besli yammered out his complaints, "Why in the hell has Marekk summoned us here? I was having an wonderful time chasing after those bastard villains!" A murmur of approval motioned throughout the crowd.

Sofirr added his comment. "And another thing, what foolish person picked Marekk as our leader? He will lead us into death if the rumors are true!" More commotion rippled through the crowd.

Theodora spoke up in defense. "Are you suggesting a mutiny, Sofirr? I'm sure glad no one is taking real seriousness in your threats! Judges! Marekk has not led us in the wrong path before! Trusting him means to trust the Council!"

Idplious stood up from the back. "Be quiet you arse-kisser! Death to Theodora! Death to Marekk! Come on m…"

A swift jab was delivered to Idplious' head. The crack of his skull echoed throughout the tower. Blood seeped through the abrasion, cascading down into his eyes. It didn't sting; he was already dead.

Tyrannicus shook his hand, temporarily relieving the pain from the hit. "Marekk is on his way. Now, if anyone else has any comments on the Supreme Justice's decision, he or she can answer to me." Tyrannicus lightly strummed the hilt of his sword. The room became completely quiet.

Marekk swung the wooden doors open. They crashed against the wall, embedding splinters in the brick. The crowd of judges backed away, creating a small walkway for Marekk. He swiftly walked through them and reached his chair. Upon sitting down, he motioned for the rest of the people to find a place to sit as well. No one whispered a word as they found their seating. Tyrannicus found his seat on the right side of Marekk; on the left side was the town crier.

The Supreme Justice cleared his throat, preparing for a long explanation. In his hand, he clasped a solid gold gavel. "I thank you all for coming here. I will start off by having the crier read out the minutes of the last meeting." A wave of disapproval washed throughout the congregation. Marekk thumped the gavel against its solid gold counterpart, "Order in my office! It is tradition passed down by our forbearers! We must honor their legacy!" He paused to catch his breath. "And besides, the Council demands that any meeting under their observation follow the same rules and regulations as they practice. Crier! Please read the minutes of our last meeting."

The crier swiftly stood straight and saluted the Supreme Justice. He picked up a long scroll and unraveled the entire roll of paper. "Yes, sire! The last meeting started with the minutes from the meeting before. That was then followed by roll call. The first motion for business was the recruitment of new members to the Black Wizards of Law. The next item up for business was the promoting of current members to their new levels of duty. That was followed by the debate over the current uprising of crimes on Norrath and Luclin. Next was the vote on whether to move our judges off of Luclin and place them move throughout Norrath. The motion failed with a vote of sixteen to one. That was followed by a motion to adjourn, which passed unanimously." The crier wrapped the portion with the words written on it and placed the scroll on the desk. "This concludes the reading of the minutes. I will now, at the Supreme Justice's approval, continue on with the roll call." The crier stood in full attention awaiting the Supreme Justice's answer. Even though he knew that it would be a 'yes,' the crier had to follow the rules.

Marekk nonchalantly gestured to continue. He placed his elbow on his desk and propped his head against it.

The crier saluted the Supreme Justice and carried out his duty. "I will now begin roll call. Theodora!"

"Here!"

"Besli!"

"Aye!"

"T'lane…T'lane! Idplious…Idplious! Lans…Lans!"

"Oh, sorry, here!"

"I ask that you all pay attention during roll call! Now where was I? Oh, Sofirr!"

"Here!"

"Micalangelo!"

"Right here!"

"Eany…Eany! D'mean…D'mean! Ok, N'catta!"

"Over here!"

"Nquyen!"

"Here!"

"Ickabod!"

"Aye!"

"Ly'gee!"

"Here!"

"Oasious!"

"Aye, of course I'm here! I'm the only one who makes it to every meeting!"

"Yinniy…Yinniy! And Edwin…Edwin! Ok, we have ten members here. Those who aren't accounted for are: T'lane, Idplious, Eany, D'mean, Yinniy and Edwin. I now give the floor to Supreme Justice Marekk. Three cheers for the Justice!" The crier overpowered the rest of the group, who were not truly cheering for Marekk. Theodora joined the crier in a standing ovation as Marekk got ready for his motion.

Marekk banged the gavel against the desk. "Order! The first time up for business is the plans on attack Karana!" He stood out of his chair, walked to the front of the desk. He reached back and retrieved a plethora of papers, all filled to the brim with tactics and information. The first poster in his presentation had the words 'Karana' written in bold, capital letters on the top. Under it was a rough sketch of the god of thunder might look like. He reached into his vest and pulled out a long pointer. He snapped it against the board. "Judges, this is our culprit. He has committed the vilest act I have seen in my long history as a judge. He has attacked our very way of life. He must be stopped before he can do any more damage to our organization." Marekk took the first poster down and replaced it with a large map. The word 'Nexus' was plastered on the top of the poster. "We will meet up with our bailiffs here," he snapped the pointer in the northeast corner of the map, "at the book to the nether planes. The Scions will not appreciate our presence in the Plane of Knowledge, but the Council demands our swift and brutal retaliation against any and all threats toward our cause. Once we enter the Plane of Knowledge, we must be swift in our search fro Karana. The gods have complete presence in there, and once a hostile mortal enters, their minions will hunt us down like dogs." Marekk stopped pacing and faced the audience. "Before I continue, does anyone have any questions?" Marekk scanned the crowd for hands raised, then motioned for Besli to speak.

Besli rose from the back of the crowd and shouted in a very disrespectful tone, "How in the Council's name will we be able to use that…book? I have know about these portals for my entire life and have not heard of anyone crossing the planes unscathed!"

"Excellent question, Besli," Marekk hastily replied. "I have received information about a man who was able to cross into the planes and return safely. Once we find him, we will use his knowledge to breach these portals and enter the Plane of Knowledge…yes, Sofirr."

"Do we know where this man is?" Sofirr mockingly asked.

Marekk grumbled at the question. His hand was inching closer to his scepter on the table. Tyrannicus slapped Marekk's hand and pulled the cudgel away. "As…of…right now, we…do not know…"

Chatter filled the room, neighbor talking to neighbor about Marekk's competence as the Supreme Justice. Nquyen stood up in the front of the room. "And when do you plan on finding him? After our society is destroyed and a mere memory?"

"We will find him soon enou…"

Nquyen defiantly cut Marekk off. "Soon isn't an option. My family is freezing to death at the bottom of the tower. Soon, they will be dead if we don't stop worrying about some damn ghost chase and start focusing on saving our people!" A cry of agreement erupted from the mob. "People, ever since Marekk became Supreme Justice, our numbers have dwindled to less than five hundred men. This 'society' is becoming a lost cause under his rule! If he won't worry about our people, then I say we throw him out in the cold! I say we show him all that his 'underlings' are suffering! What do you say, judges?" A roar of agreement shook the very foundation of the tower.

Marekk was backed into a corner. He panicky glanced left and right for a way out of this predicament. Tyrannicus, Theodora, and the crier jumped in front of Marekk. Tyrannicus barked at the mob with his booming voice, "Judges of the Black Wizards of Law! To overthrow the Supreme Justice is to destroy our way of life! We are five times better now than we ever were before! More and more people are paying for the crimes they have committed since Marekk became Supreme Justice! A revolution proves nothing! The only thing it will accomplish is more unnecessary bloodshed! Now take your seats, before I empty a few of them." Tyrannicus unsheathed his two-hander and ushered the crowd back in its seats.

Marekk nervously walked back to his seat. "I…have…a change of plans. Before we…attack the Plane of Storms, we will evacuate the tower."

The crier stood up next to the Supreme Justice. "But Supreme Justice, where will we go? No one will harbor us. We are murders in the criminal's eyes."

"We will plead for asylum." Marekk faced the floor in disgust at his decision. "After we defeat Karana, we will regain our homeland."

"But we will have to pay for our 'crimes.' They will hang us all!" the crier proclaimed.

"I will take full responsibility for the actions of the Black Wizards. You can all return as I am tried in their 'courts.'"

Tyrannicus looked in unison with the crier at the Supreme Justice. Why is he showing compassion after he was nearly overthrown?

"But Marekk!" the crier pleaded.

"Do not use my name, Bartholomew! We discussed this before!" Marekk snapped at the crier.

"I'm sorry, Supreme Justice." Bartholomew cowered into the corner.

Marekk stood back up in front of the crowd. "As I was saying…"