CHAPTER IV: AMPLE TIMING

The five of them landed in a small, earthy chamber. It was dirty and moist…almost like the room wasn't anything more than dug out of the ground. Traversing a narrow pathway, they came up to a room that was fairly well lit. Noticing some dark shadows in corners, Celathiel turned to Illonel.

"You have my light arrow?"

"No…you had it last…look, keep track of your own gear, alright?" Illonel snapped. As the sorcerer reached behind him, he found his arrow in his pack, still glowing brightly. Then, they saw the threat – three more grimlocks stood in their way to the end of the room. At the far wall, they could see a large figure wearing a strong looking chainmail armor. He swung a spiked chain that scratched his captive's flesh, causing new wounds and reopening old. Two larger grimlocks flanked him on either side.

"Heh. That's mine…" Illonel said matter-of-factly as he spied the spiked chain weapon.

"The hell it is…" Barakus never spoke more than when he had stake in something.

Barakus instantly dove at the closest grimlock. In a stunning display of strength, he sliced it from head to toe, splitting the monster in half. Catching them off guard was very beneficial – Illonel had stabbed the second grimlock and slashed it to death in two acrobatic moves. For an encore, he stepped off of the corpse of the slain grimlock and plunged his rapier into the chest of the next closest one. The competition of power between the fighter and the barbarian was beneficial to the party – even though it was for a selfish goal, three grimlocks were now dead, and that was quite a feat.

Furrius moved his hands as much as he could in the constricting shackles, newly inspired by the sight of his rescuers. After a moment, he had successfully cast a light spell directly at his tormentor's eye. He yowled in pain, temporarily blinded in one eye, but all it seemed to do was enhance his desire to cause Furrius pain. Illonel and Calathiel stood back as Barakus flew into a forceful rage, diving at the creature wearing the chain mail. Blow after blow landed on the beast, but it still stood.

Sic and Celathiel shot arrows across the room, laying waste to one of the remaining grimlocks – one, however, snuck up on Krougu and Barakus. It dealt two crippling blows, sending the rogue and the barbarian to the ground, writhing in agony…

"If someone could get me off this damned wall, I could heal you!" Furrius called as he struggled with his shackles. Attempting to cause fear in the monster with a spell, the cleric concentrated on Wee Jas…the monster turned back to him and laughed openly. "Guess that's a failed attempt…" Furrius gulped.

"I'm almost through with you…" the monster harshly bellowed, turning back to the room. Sic had snuck up to Krougu and Barakus, attempting to heal them before the creature attacked again.

As if there wasn't enough going on in the room, a large wolf materialized across the room behind Illonel, catching he and Celathiel completely off guard. Reflexes sharp as a new dagger, Illonel kicked off of the canine's grotesque face and vaulted away from it. As Celathiel attempted to attack the beast, it blinked out of existence and reappeared behind Sic, tearing a chunk out of the little bard.

"What? That's ridiculous…" the sorcerer said near the doorway. Just as things began to look grim, the maniacal laughter of their host rang through the room. With no flourish, the wolf disappeared and the tormenting creature shifted…turning after a moments time into the robed man.

"Ahh, I'm impressed. I must say, I never thought you'd get this far after your sorry display with the letter…" he said, snapping his fingers. Krougu and Barakus woke up, weak, but stable; Furrius dropped from the wall as his shackles unlocked. "I believe you wanted this?" he said, tossing the spiked chain to Illonel. "But, I must apologize…I daresay I get a tad overzealous...I am in need of your assistance…"

Furrius looked up at the menacing figure – he wasn't tall, but the beaten and bruised cleric was in no condition to judge. As his fingers gripped the soil tightly he said, "Bullshit."

"Hmmm? Can I pose a question? Why are you allowing HIM to accompany you…? Don't you know that he'll steal everything you own, leaving you when you need him most…?"

The robed figure gestured toward the bard…or was it the fighter? Furrius couldn't tell…his vision was blurry…the comment was vague enough to apply to anyone in the room, he realized…was the robed man toying with his mind?

"How can you trust his loyalty? You've only known him for mere minutes..." the robed figure continued.

"And already he's proven more to me than you have in the days I've known you," the cleric shot back, finally standing. "Anyone that comes to my rescue is okay in my book."

The robed man smiled forcefully. "Unrequited trust…how touching…very well." The man instantly vanished as the room and all its inhabitants did the same – with a flash of light, the adventurers were teleported back to their base of operations in room fourteen. As they shared their letters, notes, and information gleaned in the dungeon, Furrius and Barakus were finally glad to be with good company. Sadly, the wizard, paladin, druid and sorceress were nowhere to be seen.

In the room there were ten identical care packages – each contained, among other things, a bedroll, a small pouch containing a platinum piece and five gold, torches, rations, and an interesting cloak. Inside the lining of each cloak was a strange velvety substance that bore a symbol – a circle with a dash inside, like a single-handed clock or compass. Many of these symbols lined up and down the inside of the hood, each dash rotating a small increment more than the last. In the very center sat a magical icon which rotated all by itself, and on the back was a larger icon that didn't move at all.

Luckily, the Three Winds Inn had amenities – the cleric, barbarian, sorcerer, fighter, bard and rogue all laid down for a much deserved rest.