A/N: The world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. I promise to return to the game unharmed the following persons: Hathwisa, Cheeseball, and Solberg; and places: Patrick's Tower, Halls of Chaos, and Solberg's Tower.

By the time they had finished the descent, they had determined to go to Patrick's Tower to retrieve Demonslayer, and once in the tower, made their way to the room Rone had described, looking behind potted plants to find buttons which, when pushed, produced half a bridge across the pool of water. Continuing, they found the statue moved easily aside, and they descended a staircase, at the base of which was a small, glowing portal.

Upon approach, there was a soft voice which said, "Only one may pass through to attempt to gain Demonslayer. Beware. This test is likely to kill you."

Jenneke said, "All right, I guess I'll ..."

"NO!" cried Adrianna. "You can't! I ..."

"Dree, I have to," said Jenneke. "I'll be fine. Brother Michael ..."

"Adrianna, I've given him potions that should make everything all right," said Michael. "Potions which will prevent harm from coming to him."

"Except poisons," said Adrianna. "There's no proof against ..."

"And curatives," said Michael. "Adrianna, Jenneke's the best suited to this task."

"Sarge knows what he's doing," said Nigel. "He'll be all right. We all come through a lot worse and been fine."

"Mostly fine," said Adrianna. "I just ..."

"Dree," said Jenneke, pulling her into his arms, "I'll be fine. Swear it to you ..." He kissed her, and said, "If I don't ... who should I send? Who would you send in my place?"

"I couldn't ..." said Adrianna, looking horrified at the thought of sending another to his death.

"Right," said Jenneke, kissing her again. "The guys will take good care of you while I'm away. Won't you fellows?"

"Sure," said Feodoric. "Look, there's a shrine over here—the rest of us can wait in here ... help him with your prayers, Adrianna."

"All right," said Adrianna, the look of terror still in her eyes.

"Love you, Dree," said Jenneke, and he gave her another kiss, and then turned, walked through the portal, and was gone from the room.

On the other side, Jenneke saw three signs: Here lies the might blade Demonslayer, read the first.

"Yeah, fine," he muttered, as he looked to the second sign, reading aloud, "Those who would wish to wield it must first pass the test." And then he moved to the third, reading, "Only those well prepared for combat fierce should proceed."

"Well, how bad can it be?" he said, grinning as he drew sword and readied his shield, reviewing the locations of the potions he had been given.

Around the hall, he came to a lower room, and in the center of an ornate mosaic was a simple box.

"Bet all hell breaks loose when I open that," said Jenneke, and he took a potion and drank it, and then moved forward.

Indeed, inside was the unique artifact for which this well-hidden complex had been built—a greatsword with a long leather sheath, the handle wrapped in leather and gold wire, as he reached for it, a soft voice—sounding like Rone—said, "Beware. To take the blade is to be tested. Be sure to prepare."

He grabbed the blade, and as Jenneke had suspected, all hell broke loose—literally. With eruptions of sulfurous smoke and flame, demonic creatures appeared all around him. Jenneke took the sword he had just gained—surely, he reasoned, he was meant to use it in this fight ... and battle was joined.

At long last, demons, imps, and haakai were dead, along with all the things they had summoned, and Jenneke drank the last healing potion.

"Shit, Dree is going to kill me," said Jenneke, and he made his way up the stairs to the portal. He hadn't remembered getting wounded ... the heat of battle had been too much for that, but the potions had not been enough for the duration of the fight, and he had taken quite the beating ... and looked it.

Emerging on the other side of the portal, he did not see his companions in the room, though he could hear their voices from the shrine nearby.

"Brother Michael," called Jenneke, "could you come here a moment?"

Michael came down the hallway, followed closely by Adrianna.

"Jenneke!" she cried, running past Michael ... "but ..."

"I'm fine," said Jenneke. "Really ..."

"You're not ... you're covered in ... that's your blood," said Adrianna.

"He'll be fine," said Michael. "He did come back ... aren't you happy for that?"

"Yes, but ... he's hurt," said Adrianna. "You said ..."

"Adrianna, I can't promise a certainty," said Michael. "And he is fine ..." He put hands on Jenneke's forehead, and began muttering some prayers, the gashes and gouges knitting together until they were as though never having been—save for the blood which remained on the surface.

"There, nothing a little cleaning and a good bath wouldn't take care of," said Michael, reviewing his work. "Shall we see if they can put us up here in the tower, then?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," said Jenneke. Calling down the hall, he said, "Guys! Let's go."

Coming down the short hall, Thissa said, "All isss well?"

"It is now," said Jenneke, with an arm around Adrianna.

"Can we see it?" said Nigel.

"Sure," said Jenneke, unsheathing the sword. "Impressive, huh?"

"Very," said Nigel. "Tough to get?"

"A little bit," said Jenneke.

"A little ..." said Adrianna.

"Yeah ..." said Jenneke, and he gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Let's go."

They ascended the stairs, and finding Hathwisa, were told they could make themselves at home in guest quarters, which they did.

Taking advantage of the private bath, Jenneke sat in the hot water and called Adrianna over. "Want to join me?" he said. "Tub's plenty big."

"I don't know," said Adrianna.

"C'mon," said Jenneke, catching her hand and pulling her close. "Unless you want me to pull you in—clothes and all."

"You wouldn't!" said Adrianna.

"Yes, I would," said Jenneke. "Dree ... please?"

"Do you have any idea how long it takes for my hair to dry?" she said.

"Not important right now," said Jenneke, unlacing her gown.

"All right," said Adrianna. "You'll be sorry."

Jenneke gave her an admiring look as she pulled off the gown and undergown, and stepped out of her sandals, and offered a supportive hand to get her into the bathtub, her hair still braided.

"Dree, I'm sorry," said Jenneke, as he pulled her onto his lap. "I really didn't think I'd get hurt down there ... and I did make it out in one piece."

"It's just ... Jenneke!" said Adrianna.

"Oh, Dree," said Jenneke, a smile stealing across his face as he sheathed himself within her. "Dree, I ... Oh, gods, yes, I love you, I ..." He stopped, nuzzling neck, breasts, ears, a ferocity of need born from the fact that he had survived again and needed the time-immemorial celebration of life found within the dance of man and woman.

"Jenneke, what if I fall with child again," said Adrianna, when the ferocity had faded to tender afterglow. "I could not bear to lose another ..."

"I'll talk to Brother Michael," said Jenneke. "There's got to be some proof against poison."

Hours had passed—the water long since cooled, and Jenneke and Adrianna left the tub, both clean and Adrianna's long hair unplaited and washed. She began combing a substance through the hair—a magical liquid which enabled mages to face dangers of magical fire without risk of losing all their hair to an errant blast, and then re-braided the wet length, finally rejoining Jenneke in the guest bed at the tower.

The relaxation time, however, was short, and by first candlemark, they were breaking fast and heading off again to the east, to search through the waterfall warren for the place where Rone said that the Empire had taken over an Avernite construction and made the Blessed Athame inaccessible to all.

After considerable searching through the "Waterfall Warren" they came to a hidden complex. Reaching the docks and climbing the stairs, they took their first good look—it was amazing, with halls huge, rising above to arching gothic ceilings. Everything looked shiny and new. Long paths of carpet led off in all directions. The crown symbol of the Empire was on a nearby wall.

"Suppose this is where Rone was talking about?" said Jenneke.

"No doubt," said Adrianna, and she moved to read a sign. "Halls of Chaos. This place is of the Empire now. Depart or die."

Searching through the place, despite the many obstacles in their way, at last, they came to a room with a box on a pedestal. "Speak the password," came a disembodied voice.

"Plor," said Jenneke, deciding to use the first one the statue had given.

The voice said, "You may approach."

Jenneke walked up, and saw the box open to reveal a small knife—only two inches long, far too short to use in a combat situation. However, it was a beautiful instrument, perfectly made and painfully sharp. Tiny magical symbols, almost too faint to see, covered its entire surface.

"Here, Nige," said Jenneke, "I think you'll be the one playing with those."

"Thanks, sarge," said Nigel, gingerly taking the blade from him. "So this is the blessed athame ... I guess part of the trick is that it doesn't look that remarkable until you get close."

"It's used more for ritual magic than combative magic," said Feodoric. "It's impressive enough. Believe me—those markings ... the amount of power to create that is beyond the skills of anyone I know."

"Any one person," said Adrianna. "It's a cooperative effort, making one of those."

"OK, then I think we're ready to go," said Jenneke, pulling a lever, and the section of the wall slid away. "Guess it'll be easier to leave."

Adrianna walked up to the sign that she had read before, and scratched out all the words save for four, leaving the new legend: "Empire ... Depart or die."

"Where do we go from here?" she asked, giving a satisfied look at the altered sign.

"I think we try to pay Solberg a visit," said Jenneke. "I understand he has the knowledge that we're after, about what has to be done to get Garzahd dead."

"Hopefully," said Feodoric. "I hope it's possible."

"It will be," said Adrianna. "What else would they be afraid of, that they'd go to such efforts to keep him from leaving his tower and being more aid to Avernum in time of war?"

"Makes sense to me," said Jenneke, helping Adrianna into the boat again. "Few more rapids, and I do hope that's the last time we'll have to bother with such things."

"I hear you, Sarge," said Nigel. "I hear those damned waterfalls in nightmares and wake up in a cold sweat."

"Thessse are more rapidssss than waterfallssss," said Thissa, "but I do not like them, all the sssame."

The travels, once they left the waterfalls behind, were quiet enough until they started the overland trek from Silvar to the Formello area, for Empire troops were on several raids, and Jenneke's platoon made short work of each of them. Finally, they came to the place where a basalt spire emerged from the fiery tumult of the lava below. As they approached, there was an unshakable sense of being watched, and despite the ambient heat of the area, chills ran down their spines.

"Something pretty dangerous is around," said Jenneke, drawing his new sword. "I don't like it."

Suddenly, there were bright flashes of light ahead and behind, and when the smoke cleared, there were a gang of leering, demonic creatures surrounding them. Watching carefully for a few moments, they seemed oddly disappointed, and then decided to attack anyway.

After defeating the demons, they carefully edged around the featureless basalt tower, and suddenly felt a tingling sensation, and immediately thereafter, a door appeared in what had been blank wall a moment before.

Walking inside, they saw a large calico cat patrolling the tower, looking a bit dispirited, and evidently quite aged.

"My name is ..." and it hacked, "Cheeseball."

"Cheeseball?" said Adrianna. "That's a nice name."

"Hmmmph. You're as bad as the wizard. This conversation is no longer worth my time," he said, and tail in the air, he strutted away.

"So, what are you doing—looking for mice?" said Jenneke.

"No human," said Cheeseball with an air of long suffering. "Mice indeed! I guard this pitiful tower."

"Ohhh, sorry," said Jenneke. "So, what are you protecting the tower from?"

"Well, someone has to," said Cheeseball. "There are demons everywhere. Pfft."

"Yeah, demons are a problem," said Jenneke.

Cheeseball spit, and said, "Demons. Lava. Soot. Lousy food. No lizards to eat. If I wasn't a familiar for that stupid wizard, I'd probably just jump in some lava and end it all."

"Don't think much of the wizard," said Adrianna, making a mental note to never acquire a familiar."

"His name's Solberg," said Cheeseball. "He talks to me all the time. And I do mean all the time. Even when I want to be alone. I'm sick of it. He's in there. Talk to him, maybe he'll leave me alone."

"Thanks," said Jenneke, and he led the way into the next room, where they met an aging, highly unkempt man, wearing what were probably mage's robes, but so stained and torn it wasn't easy to be sure.

The man, unlike the cat, was ecstatic to see them, and said, "Visitors! Wonderful! I am Solberg, of the Triad. Welcome to my humble home."

"May I ask why you are along in this tower?" asked Jenneke.

"Well, I am officially a member of the Triad of the Tower of Magi," said Solberg. "Now, however, I am exiled to this miserable tower, and boredom is my greatest enemy."

"Can you tell us something about the Triad in the Tower?" asked Adrianna.

"The Tower of Magi is, following the custom for such towers in the surface world, run by three mages. Normally, the system works," said Solberg. "However, several years ago, we had a disaster."

"What was the disaster?" asked Adrianna.

"Linda was on the Triad then. She came up with an insane scheme to capture a demon lord and bind it to her will. She imprisoned anyone who questioned the scheme. I came here and built this tower, so that I could repair any damage from a safe distance," said Solberg. "Fortunately, the beast was slain."

"Must have been tricky to get rid of the demon lord," said Adrianna. "How did you manage it?"

"It's a long story, and I'd rather not get into all that," said Solberg. "But then, after the demon was slain, I still had to remain here."

"Why have you remained in this tower so long?" asked Feodoric.

"This tower is where I must stay. There is a simple reason," said Solberg. "If I leave, I will very likely be assassinated."

"Assassinated? Who would want you dead?" asked Adrianna.

"Don't think I am being paranoid. Hordes of demons orbit this tower, day and night waiting for me to leave the safety of my wards so that they may devour me," said Solberg. "Would you like to know who their sender was?"

"So, the demons are there just to get you?" said Jenneke.

"Yes, and there may be some outside now. Be careful wandering around here. It's me they're after," said Solberg, "but demons are notoriously non-picky when presented with food."

"Who would dare kill a member of the Triad?" said Feodoric.

"Well, I'll tell you. Forgive me if I'm a bit windy," said Solberg. "I so seldom get to talk to people. You see, all the most powerful mages in Avernum—me, and Erika, and Aimee, and Patrick, we were colleagues on the surface world. Us and Garzahd."

Settling into comfortable seats, Adrianna then said, "Do tell more, please?"

"Erika is a damned foolish woman! She was the one who masterminded Hawthorne's assassination. She brought this mess down on our heads," said Solberg. "We weren't ready to face the Empire! Of course, Aimee, I haven't seen her in years. A recluse now, traveling the planes in spirit. At least Patrick is still alive. Might not be much longer, but he's true servant of Avernum. Now Garzahd ... poor, foolish, paranoid Garzahd. He worked and learned with us, but could never stand the thought that others could have as much power as him. He also was the only one of us who developed political connections. And he used those connections. Oh yes."

"He used his political connections to do what?" asked Feodoric.

"He envied us our skill. He thought us a challenge to his aspirations. So he spent his time, he and Hawthorne, getting each of us exiled one after another. He did that, and spent years developing protective spells for himself," said Solberg. "Such a bright mind, wasted in such petty pursuits."

"What sort of protective spells did he pursue?" asked Adrianna.

"Years he spent, infusing himself with protective magics, down to the marrow of his bones. Fire, cold, poison, hostile magics—I doubt any of them can affect him any more. Blades? Probably not," said Solberg. "And that's why he wants to kill me. I'm one of the few who can strike him at his weak point."

"So, what's Garzahd's weak point?" said Jenneke.

"Demon blood. Garzahd is half mad, I think. In his paranoid desire to protect himself, he let his essence mingle with the darker powers. Now, only magics which can harm demonkind can wound him seriously," said Solberg. "I have great skill dealing with demonkind, but I am trapped here. Someone else must go deal with that scoundrel."

"Wait," said Jenneke. "Why don't you just get rid of the demons around the tower here?"

"You are skilled at fighting goblins, but if you faced enough of them, they would drown you with sheer numbers," said Solberg. "A similar fate would greet me if I dared step outside."

"So are weapons against demons the only hope?" said Adrianna.

"No, there's another," said Solberg. "I'm a master mindduellist—no spells know can shield a mage from a mindduel. It's a price we pay for our powers. I could kill him if I got close to him. Any good mindduellist could. It would help you, of course, if your power was augmented."

"Augmented how?" asked Adrianna.

"There is a magic item, called a ring of will. Very rare. Created to protect from dumbfounding," said Solberg. "Has a side effect, that its wearer is much better in a mindduel. Get a ring of will, and all the weapons against demonkind, and you just might stand a chance against Garzahd."

"Any ideas where we'd find something like that?" said Jenneke.

"Last I heard," said Solberg, "and it has been awhile, but they had one in Patrick's tower."

"Thank you," said Jenneke. "We have to go to Blosk next, I think, so we'll see about stopping down that way again."

"Best of luck to you," said Solberg. "As you've already gotten permission to carry Demonslayer—I recognize that blade, you have a chance to not be doomed if you go face Garzahd. Do hope you manage to come out this way again."

"We'll have to try," said Jenneke. "Have a good day, now."

With that, he led his group out of the tower, the door disappearing into a featureless basalt wall no sooner than they had exited.

"I'd sure hate to live somewhere like this," said Jenneke.

"So would I," said Adrianna.

"Eventually, the tower will fall into the lava," said Feodoric, "though I doubt any of us will live long enough to see that happen."