12th Day of Harvester, 565 CY
Vesve Forest
(About 45 miles west of Ironstead)
Nothing.
"Dammit!" Zantac yelled, followed by words of a far stronger hue.
He grabbed the orange chapeau off his head in frustration and hurled it against the interior wall of the pod.
The arcanist had just used his third and last dispel magic spell for the day and followed up with yet another detect, trying to determine if he had been able to dispel any non-detection wards that might have been active on the pod.
There was still nothing. Either the Willip wizard had been unable to dispel the spell that was cloaking any auras present, or (and he considered this more and more likely with each passing minute) there was simply nothing to dispel. The entire steelsphere carried the same amount of magic as a plate of bacon.
Which meant this was all a colossal waste of time.
Zantac was currently lying on his side on the bottom of the pod, facing the underside of one of the eight metal benches that had been welded right into the steelsphere's frame itself. Each bench was encased in a strong but plush fabric of an unknown make. Someone had sliced this particular covering open with a sword. The inside seemed to consist entirely of a yellow, sponge-like material that pulled apart easily, but offered no clues as to its origin.
Belts with elaborate clasps on them were also attached to each bench. According to Cygnus, they were used to strap the pod's passengers into their berths for the traumatic descent and landing of the pod onto whatever world was its destination.
Underneath (a term only applicable on the Material world, for in the astral up and down were meaningless) the bench was a series of four small holes in a square pattern, each about the width of Zantac's pinky. They were only about a half-inch deep and seemed to serve no purpose. Underneath that was a series of symbols painted onto the hull of the sphere. Consisting of a mixture of geometric shapes and unknown symbols, Zantac knew that when he originally encountered them, Elrohir had been able to decipher these writings, which were present not only on this pod, but throughout the Mary Celestial itself, with his helm of comprehending languages.
While Elrohir was not here, Zantac's sorcery was at least up to this task.
But while the words were translatable, the meaning was less clear
RECHARGING STATION
Recharging for what? Zantac thought. Wands of some kind? The "rowbaht" currently laying in pieces back at Ironstead? The pod itself?
The red-robed wizard gave up on this for now, crawled over to where his hat lay and jammed it back on his head. He then sat up and looked around him again.
The sphere itself was about thirty feet in diameter, about twice the size a shelterdome would be if one were to conjure one up on the astral plane. It was a silvery-grey in color and devoid of any obvious interior features other than the berths. Near what one would currently call the "roof" of this pod was set a circular door, constructed of the same metal the sphere was made of; what Fenlun had called astral driftmetal. The door opened outwards by means of a circular bar of metal set into the center of the door that turned to unlock the door's hidden hinges. It was currently propped open, the door itself resting on the sphere's outside hull. A rope ladder, a recent addition, hung down from the opening to the pod's "floor."
This door provided the only means of egress from the sphere, for while the landing had dented the bottom of the pod, it was still quite intact. Zantac wondered how one was supposed to get out of this thing if poor luck had wound up planting the door face down into the dirt when the pod landed.
There was one window, also circular and only about two feet across. Zantac would have called the window's transparent material glass affected by a glassteel spell, except that it could not be dispelled and of course, radiated no magic in the first place.
Currently, the view showed only brown dirt. The wall of the forty-foot deep crater the pod had created on impact with the forest floor. Zantac tried to imagine what that must have felt like for the sphere's passengers and involuntarily winced. Padding or no, that was one sensation he had no intention of experiencing.
Slowly getting to his feet, Zantac grabbed his quarterstaff, currently propped up against the nearest berth. The tip of the staff was currently imbued with light, but as Zantac stood up, it suddenly went out.
Zantac frowned with sudden realization. Knowing his cantrip's duration, he had been here almost an hour now. It hadn't seemed that long, but it was noticeably darker inside the pod now than it was when he had first entered.
He looked up. The miniscule patch of blue sky visible through the hatch had deepened noticeably. It must be almost sunset by now.
Grumbling at his lack of useful findings, Zantac grabbed the rope ladder and began to climb out of the sphere.
As the crow flies, Cygnus had been standing about fifty-five feet from where Zantac had been when the latter wizard had uttered his latest stream of expletives, but he had still heard them just fine.
He couldn't begrudge his fellow mage his frustration. Cygnus himself had fared no better with his own explorations of the sphere earlier in the day. It was still nothing more than an eight ton metal enigma. The wizard sighed and looked around him.
The area of forest that had been cleared was a rough ovoid shape, oriented along a north-south axis, perhaps two hundred and fifty feet long and half that at its widest point. Most of the northern portion was occupied by the impact crater itself. The other half contained the sled, the site's lone building, a small barracks, and a fire pit, latrine ditches and so forth. Stumps from cleared trees dotted the clearing. With the exception of a few trees on the perimeter, all the wood and undergrowth had been removed from the clearing for firewood over the past eight months or so. Nesco could see that even some of the smaller trees in the woods just outside the clearing had been cut down.
Wayne would foam at the mouth if he saw this, the ranger guessed. It was small wonder that Major Standish was having a hard time finding druids to help conceal this site.
He looked down towards the southwest. Just outside the barracks, Sir Corvis and one of the soldiers were helping Sergeant Tolan, the garrison's ranking officer, into his full plate armor. Nearby, Saxmund was helping one of the site's two hunters load a freshly killed wild boar onto a spit over a fire pit. A little ways further west, Aelfbi was conjuring water into a latrine ditch that he had converted into a watering trough for their horses and exhorting the steeds to drink, which they did with little hesitation.
Cygnus himself was currently standing on the southeast lip of the crater. Satisfied from the vibrations of the rope ladder (and the sounds of labored breathing) that Zantac would soon be rejoining them, he walked over about fifteen feet to the south, where the partially constructed giant sled sat.
A dozen huge tree trunks, shaved of bark and polished as smooth as conditions allowed, lay on the ground side-by-side. A foot-wide hole had been bored through each trunk lengthwise- no mean feat- and what were basically wooden dowels inserted through these holes, nailed to shorter, flexible pieces of wood that connected with hooks that attached to the sides of the sled platform, which was basically a wooden raft, thirty-five feet square, that sat on top of the logs. This arrangement meant that, once the sled was being pulled, the logs would constantly roll underneath the platform without the arduous task of constantly having to take the rear log, bringing it around to the front and placing it underneath the front of the sled.
Smaller trunks had been pounded upright into the platform, forming a loose fence on three sides. Ropes and pulleys would secure the pod in place. Only the front section, where the drivers would sit and the harnesses to secure the draft team in place, were not yet complete.
It was an impressive design. Cygnus had not met the gnome Fenlun Herlendal that the others told of, but he certainly seemed to be as talented as they related.
And curious. Cygnus frowned. Too curious for his tastes. Fenlun already knew more about the Mary Celestial and related matters than the tall wizard was comfortable with. Dealing with Agarth was bad enough. He certainly didn't need any more complications in this matter.
One of the lumberjacks passed nearby, carrying an armful of firewood from the forest's edge. Cygnus smiled at him, but the man pointedly turned away as he walked off towards the fire pit.
Cygnus sighed. This man's attitude was not unique but once again, it was a complication that could not be helped.
Their arrival at the site on horseback had been met with less than total enthusiasm by the ten men currently stationed here. At first, they had assumed that the party's horses were the draft team that were to be attached to their sled, and they loudly protested that the completion of the sled and subsequent loading of the steelsphere onto it were still scheduled for nearly three weeks away.
Unfortunately, upon explanation that these mounts were for the arriving party's personal use only, the soldiers' attitude went from put-upon to downright unfriendly. Believing themselves now in greater jeopardy from orc attack, it had taken both another of Nesco's lies about still being in the Azure Order and all of Sir Corvis' considerable talents at diplomatic finesse to smooth things over. At the knight's suggestion, Aelfbi and the mages had used some of their precious spells and prayers to help these men by creating water, light and so forth. This had mollified them somewhat (particularly the two lumberjacks, who were charged with the daily task of hauling water from the closest stream), but relations were still closer to frosty than toasty.
Cygnus wondered if Agarth had anything in that special chest of his with which to bribe these men further against them.
That was a sour thought, but it all might turn out to be a moot point anyway. They were nearing the end of their first full day at the crash site. The mercane and his party shouldn't be here until this same time tomorrow, but Cygnus couldn't imagine his party finding anything then that they hadn't been able to today. He was seriously considering asking Lady Cynewine if they just shouldn't pack up tomorrow at sunrise and start the trek back to Ironstead. That way, they wouldn't have to endure more than a few snide comments from Agarth as they passed each other on the forest trail. Talat would be disappointed; not to mention Saxmund and her allies, but to Cygnus it seemed as if the Mary Celestial was going to remain forever out of their reach.
And that meant he was going to have to find another way to keep himself and his son safe.
Nesco Cynewine stood on the far side of the crater from Cygnus, lost in thought.
The ranger was not learned in magic, but she was pretty sure the efforts of her two arcanist friends had thus far netted nothing but a goose egg. If it had been otherwise, they surely would have notified her. This expedition was looking more and more like a lost cause.
So now what?
Well, she'd lead her team back to Ironstead. They'd leave the day after tomorrow, or even sooner if the mages didn't think it worth the wait. The garrison here certainly wouldn't miss them, and Nesco could only grimace to herself at all the non-existent weight she'd been throwing around at Furyondan soldiers this past week.
She knew that sooner or later that was going to come back to haunt her, but her name was already mud to those who knew the truth. What was one more embarrassment to the Knights of Furyondy; that elite group she'd wanted to join so badly as an adolescent that the ache of longing had kept her awake at night?
Among other aches.
Nesco shook her head to try and clear it of those thoughts. She was wondering how Joseph, Grimdegn and the others were going to react when they finally received word of her fruitless journey here when she saw Tojo walking towards her. Relieved for the distraction, she smiled and bowed at him.
He returned the bow, the corners of his mouth twitching in the briefest shadow of a smile. Nesco remembered Jeffers doing that whenever she or Bretagne had made the butler force to repress his merriment at their childish antics whenever Gella was around.
"Hello, Tojo-sama," Lady Cynewine said, again trying to ditch persistent memories.
"Greetings, Nesco-sama," the samurai replied. He said nothing else; merely stood beside her, arms crossed, gazing at the forest around them.
Nesco waited. If only a little, she knew some of Tojo's mannerisms by now.
After a minute or so of silence, Tojo spoke, his eyes still focused on the woods.
"Cygnus and Zantac not find anything in sphere, do they?"
"It doesn't look like it," she replied.
The samurai's mouth tightened, but there was no other visible reaction. After a bit, he spoke again.
"Saxmund and others not be aber to return to Rorex; to their own time."
"No," said Nesco softly.
And a certain Yanigasawa samurai will not be able to return to Aarde; to his own time.
She wondered what Tojo wanted back there. From the bits and pieces she'd accumulated from the others, she knew the samurai had been driven from his homeland in disgrace, never to return until he had regained his honor. He certainly hadn't done that as of yet, so why did he seem-
Nesco looked at Tojo out of the corner of her eye. The samurai was still looking at the forest, but his face, was still neutral, and seemed less focused. Those violet eyes were not seeing the Vesve, they were seeing-
By the gods, Nesco realized. He's homesick.
A loud squawking diverted her attention. A number of birds; thrushes, sparrows, and a cardinal, flew up from the trees and away.
A raptor, Nesco thought, but then dismissed that thought. The birds would all take wing opposite from where a bird of prey would be coming from. These had spread out in all directions. Whatever had scared them was from below.
She glanced over at Tojo. The samurai was back in focus. In fact, he was more than that. Nesco saw the tensing of his body.
Lady Cynewine watched as Tojo took his composite bow off his shoulder. His face was now tense with concentration.
"Nesco-sama," the samurai whispered harshly. "Do you hear sound?"
Nesco cocked her ear and listened.
From somewhere ahead of them in the woods, she heard a voice.
The ranger couldn't make it out, though. It was just too distant to catch the words, even if the speaker was using Common.
Then there were other sounds. Sounds growing louder.
Something moving fast through the leaves.
The sound of wind.
And then she could see them.
And then there was heart-stopping terror.
With blinding speed, small winged humanoid figures burst through the edge of the woods perhaps thirty feet to their west. Flying at perhaps ten feet off the ground, they were hovering near the ranger and the samurai in an instant.
No, they weren't flying. It almost seemed as if the air itself was pushing them along; bearing them aloft. Their maneuverability put any bird to shame.
All three were different in every way but their size; four feet or so in height. Except for its wings, the first looked to Nesco like a picture of a djinn she had seen in a storybook once. The creature was the white of puffy clouds and seemed little more solid. The lower half of its torso disappeared into a miniature whirlwind. A wide smile was on its face.
The second had grey skin which seemed to be flaking off its body like dust. Unlike its companion, this creature had a sorrowful expression on its face as it looked at the two humans before it.
The third creature resembled nothing so much as a miniature human carved out of solid ice, covered by a thin layer of snow. The beating of its wings as it hovered produced a continuous sound of ice cracking. This being looked neither happy nor sad; in fact, its face seemed carved into an immutable, aloof expression.
The split-second of fear was just starting to wane in Lady Cynewine when the three creatures were already moving again.
The cloud creature was suddenly enveloped in fog and vapor that swirled around it ceaselessly. It was almost impossible to discern the thing within. Similarly, the dust imp (for Nesco was sure that they could be nothing but fiends) was hidden within a plume of dirt and leaves sucked up from the ground.
The ice creature however, merely extended its arm and pointed at Nesco.
The ranger gasped as her chainmail armor turned white from an instantaneous frost. Biting cold poured into her frame. While it was not nearly as severe as the deadly blast of Blackthorn's cold of cone that she had twice been exposed to, this freezing sensation did not appear to be abating, either.
"Nesco-sama!" she heard Tojo yell. "Purr back!"
An arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing the ice creature. Glancing behind her, Nesco saw Saxmund already reaching over her shoulder to draw another arrow from her quiver. The ranger couldn't help but be impressed. The rogue was at least fifty yards back, if not more. She was a better shot than Nesco had guessed.
As for her own situation, "pulling back" was a lot easier said than done. The northwestern lip of the crater was less than ten feet behind the ranger. Through chattering teeth, Lady Cynewine grabbed her own bow off her shoulder and prepared to notch an arrow, grateful that neither one was made of metal. At this close range, she should be able to-
"Tojo!" she suddenly screamed. "Look out!"
The samurai had already seen, but it was no use. Two blue-white streaks had shot out from the ice creature's outstretched fingertips and unerringly zoomed in on Tojo, his impressive attempt at dodging notwithstanding. The missiles vanished into the samurai's right shoulder and neck, and Nesco could see the skin where they had hit instantly turn a hard bluish black from severe frostbite, the very skin dying. Tojo grimaced in pain, but otherwise stayed upright and focused.
"Me!" Nesco screamed at the ice demon. "Take me on instead! Are you afraid of a woman, you overgrown snowball? Why don't you-"
From the clouds of air and dust came blizzards of wind and grit.
Nesco threw up her arm and turned her face away. Stinging particles slammed into her at high speed, but it was over in an instant. It had hurt, to be sure, but it was nothing she couldn't deal with.
Assuming of course, that she could deal with the situation.
Wiping a layer of dust off her face, the ranger could see that Tojo too had weathered the brief storm.
Another arrow- this one courtesy of Sir Corvis- flew by, but this one wasn't as close as Saxmund's had been.
Spasms of cold wracked Nesco's body. It seemed like her armor was getting still colder. Somewhere, out of the corner of her eye, she now saw flame, and the very idea of warmth helped her to bring her body back under control.
Then she saw where the fire was coming from.
Three more small winged devils were flying out of the forest towards her and Tojo.
One was the classic image of a demon; a small creature wreathed in red and orange flames, cackling a loud laugh as it approached.
The other looked similar to the magman she encountered back in Suderham; a small humanoid seemingly made of molten lava, except this one was thinner, and winged.
The third looked at first like an odd cross between the air and dust demons; a pale humanoid covered in vapor, but as it drew nearer Nesco could see that the vapor was in fact steam. Boiling drops of water constantly dripped off the creature's skin and sizzled on the ground.
Unlike the first three attackers, these three landed on the ground to the north of Nesco and Tojo. She saw the fire creature point at Tojo-
The idea occurred to Nesco so rapidly it never crystallized into words, or even a coherent thought. Her muscles acted on it before her brain did.
"Hey, flame brain!" she screamed at the blazing imp. "Over here! Fire doesn't bother me, Tindertwig! Why don't you go back to-"
The arm turned to point directly at Nesco. She heard Tojo yell, but the heat was already flooding into her.
Or more accurately, into the metal links of her chainmail armor.
And then both heat and cold were gone.
Lady Cynewine had guessed right. The two creature's attacks had negated each other.
And the fire devil was no longer smiling and laughing.
"You are stupid, aren't you?" Nesco asked.
These aren't fiends, she thought. They're elementals of some sort! And from what I remember from Karzalin saying once, elementals aren't usually very bright. Maybe we can-
Molten rocks shot forth from the magma elemental's mouth at Nesco.
The ranger again cried out and shielded her face. It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. Only bits and pieces of magma; but the one that hit hurt.
But Lady Cynewine was getting used to getting hurt.
A quick glance showed the steam creature surrounding itself in a blur of vapor, like its air and dust cousins had.
Too many targets, thought Nesco as she readied her arrow to fire, and not enough time. I wonder how many shots I'll get before they take me down.
"Purr back, Nesco-sama!" Tojo yelled at her again. "Spread out! Force them to do same!"
Backing away rapidly to the southwest, Tojo reached the very edge of the forest before he let his first arrow fly. The shaft sped right at the ice elemental and punched a hole right through the creature, leaving a fist-sized gap in its chest.
Its expression of disdain finally vanishing, the ice elemental roared in pain, its voice the sound of a cold wind; just in time for three white streaks coming from above and behind Nesco to strike the creature. Cracks appeared on the thing's icy skin from the impact points, which spread throughout its entire body in the wink of an eye.
And then, like a snowman destroyed by a child, the ice demon fell apart into piles of ice and slushy snow.
Looking back towards the crater, Nesco could see Zantac, perched somewhat precariously on top of the sphere, raise his fist in triumph.
Yes! Nesco had forgotten about their two wizards. Surely these fiends or elementals or whatever they were couldn't stand up to their magic. Even as she turned back and let an arrow fly at the magma monster, Nesco knew that things were looking better.
This looks bad, thought Cygnus.
Both mages had memorized as many divination spells as possible in order to maximize their examination of the pod. This, combined with utilitarian spells designed to help ingratiate themselves with the garrison, had left little room for offensive magics, let alone for their most powerful ones.
Work with what you've got, Cygnus thought to himself and grimaced. If their group was ever to have a team slogan, that would most likely be it. They never seemed to face enemies when they were best prepared for them.
And certainly not enemies like these. Both he and Zantac had assumed that a band of orcs or something similar would be their most likely foes if combat did break out here at the encampment and so had chosen their limited remaining spells accordingly. Still, it was comforting to see that magic missiles seemed effective, and Cygnus had that spell; what Zantac always jokingly called "a classic," currently memorized.
But which one?
One of the three blurring themselves, the tall mage decided without conscious thought. They'd be the hardest for archers to hit.
Cygnus incanted and let fly. Four missiles streaked from his outstretched fingertips and struck the air creature dead-on, which dissipated into a puff of vapor. Not even taking the time to savor his triumph, Cygnus began jogging westwards, skirting the southern edge of the crater.
"Zantac!" he yelled as he ran. "What in the Nine Hells are those things?"
"Wrong plane, scatterbrain!" the Willip wizard shouted back. "They're mephitis; elemental creatures! If you'd joined the goddamn guild like I begged you to, you could have read about them in our library!"
"So what in the Inner Planes are they doing here?" Cygnus wanted to know. "Your precious library have an answer for that?"
Zantac merely shrugged and looked around him. The red-robed wizard's current position made him a sitting duck if any of these mephits decided to fly over and attack him. There was another rope ladder that hung down from the hatchway and down along the sphere's outer shell to the crater's bottom, but Zantac would no longer have line of sight to where the battle was currently taking place if he used it, as it hung down to the southeast. At least where he was, he had the option of ducking back into the pod and closing the door behind him.
Cygnus knew however, that Zantac would not do that. Not when the lives of his friends were at stake. The Aardian magic-user gritted his teeth and felt in his spell component pouch for the small paper packet that contained a tiny amount of sand.
Nesco's arrow missed the magma mephit, sailing by an inch over the creature's right shoulder.
The ranger's jaw dropped open. How had she missed? The damn thing couldn't be more than twelve feet from her! Was there fell magic at work here, making her hand tremble?
No. She couldn't blame outside forces when none existed. If her aim had been off, if her hand had shook as she released the shaft, it was no one's fault but her own. As she cursed herself for her cowardice, preparing to draw another arrow, more came flying by from the two hunters near the barracks, but their shots didn't even come close.
Major Tolan was screaming at the soldier who was helping him don his field plate, exhorting him to hurry up. The other soldiers were still inside the barracks, but their presence gave Nesco no comfort. They had been off-duty, and if they were to don their plate mail, the battle would long be over before they were finished.
And if they were to rush out unarmored, they'd wind up being more of a liability than an asset.
Saxmund was running full-tilt towards the battle now, bow in one hand, and an arrow in the other. Corvis, moving slower due to his heavier chain, followed behind.
The dust mephit caught up to Tojo in the blink of an eye, settled down on the grass next to him, and attacked the samurai in a whirl of claws, but Tojo adroitly avoided them and with a bloodcurdling cry that Lady Cynewine knew all too well, dropped his bow, drew his katana as fast as any mephit could act and attacked, all in one fluid motion.
His first strike missed, lost in the blur effect of the mephit's concealing cloud, but the second hit and sliced the creature's left arm cleanly off. A piercing scream erupted from the elemental.
Uh, oh, Nesco thought as the fire mephit pointed at her again. There was no more ice mephit around to counteract the effect.
But it was worse. A thin but brilliant ray of fire shot out from the creature's hand and struck the ranger full-on, tracing a course over her form as the mephit gestured.
This was worse than everything she had suffered so far combined. Her bow caught alight, and the ranger dropped it. She was sure she was being burnt alive, even as she screamed and tried to beat out the flames with her gauntleted hands. The heat singed Nesco's eyebrows, and vision was momentarily lost to her as she struggled to regain her bearings.
When she opened her eyes again, the magma mephit was upon her.
More heat. And more. Nesco weaved and dodged with all her might as the creature's molten claws passed within inches of her skin. She saw the steam mephit take wing and braced for who-knows-what, but the creature flew southeast, over the crater.
It was heading directly for Zantac.
That fact was not lost on the red-robed wizard as he watched the cloud of steam that he knew contained the elemental swiftly grow larger as it approached.
He heard Cygnus scream out a curse and looked to his left. The tall mage had just finished casting a spell, and from the position of his arms and hands, Zantac could guess which one.
"I could have told you sleep wouldn't work!" he shouted at Cygnus.
"Then why didn't you?"
"I didn't know you needed your hand held!" Zantac yelled back.
"Then what will work?"
"I don't know- I didn't specialize in these blasted things! Try anything! I'm about to die here!" Zantac frantically dug in his own spell component pouch as he spoke and came up with his own pinch of sand. But unlike Cygnus', this sand was colored red, blue and yellow. Knowing he needed to close the range, the Willip wizard ran forward, hurling the sand up and away and casting as he did so, praying that his version would be more effective than Lamonsten's.
Brilliant cones of red, blue and yellow shot forth from Zantac's hand as the color spray struck the steam mephit inside its vapor cloud.
The creature stopped dead and began to fall.
Unfortunately, so did Zantac.
Panicked, the mage looked down to see his feet sliding forward as the surface of the sphere curved away beneath him. He'd run too far forward in order to catch the elemental in his area of effect. Zantac pinwheeled his arms frantically to try and regain his balance, but it was no use. His body pitched ahead of his legs and he toppled forward, slamming into the pod's hull on the way down.
I wonder, he managed to think during his painful descent, which of us will hit first.
"Hang on, Lady Cynewine! I'm coming!"
A quick glance behind her showed Aelfbi Gemblossom, currently surrounded by an aura of multi-colored lights that Nesco had never seen before, running full-tilt towards her. The half-elf was still a good hundred feet to her south, though, so whatever he was planning, Nesco couldn't wait for it. Not with the magma creature reaching for her again.
She drew Sundancer and attacked, cutting a gash across the monster's chest. Lava oozed out, and it roared and fell back. Nesco was afraid that Sundancer would melt as her stolen sword had done from impact with the magman, but as she shook her longsword clear, the blade showed no damage at all.
More arrows from approaching hunters and lumberjacks whizzed by, aimed at the fire mephit, but all went wide.
Sergeant Tolan yelled with frustration as his aide finished adjusting the last strap. The officer grabbed his great helm with its T-shaped eye slit, jammed it over his head, drew his longsword and began lumbering- not forward, but westward, to where the horses still stood by the trough, whinnying nervously at the battle taking place to the north. Tolan looked back to see, as he had expected, five men clad only in woolen long johns emerge from behind the barracks, light crossbows in hand.
"Keep back from melee!" he roared at them. "Line formation! Stagger your bolts, and only take clear shots! We can't afford friendly fire!"
More noises came from the forest.
"By The Thunderer!" Lady Cynewine cried out in frustration. "How many of these damn things are there?"
Two more mephits came flying out from the trees. One looked like a winged, hairless dwarf made of earth and stone. The other was slender, with crystalline flesh and bleary red eyes. The former settled to earth ten feet to Nesco's left, while the latter landed just behind and to the left of the dust mephit.
Instantly, the Yanigasawa samurai felt an agonizing pain over his entire body. As he stared in disbelief, sweat was pulled through all the pores of his skin, only to fly off and towards the new arrival. Fortunately, the effect was short-lived, but Tojo now felt extraordinarily thirsty, even in the midst of battle. His mouth felt like it was filled with sand.
Nesco had been too busy to see this, as the ranger continued to avoid the magma creature's attacks. She risked a glance over at the earth mephit, to be on her guard in case the two elementals tried a flanking maneuver.
She blinked in surprise. A moment ago, the earth creature had been no taller than any of its fellow mephits. Now it was a good foot and-a-half taller than Nesco. Its rough-hewn hands curled into powerful-looking fists.
I've had better days, Lady Cynewine thought as she swung Sundancer again.
Saxmund finally drew first blood- or more accurately, first stone- when her next arrow struck the newly-grown earth mephit full in the chest. The creature however, merely yanked the shaft out, ignoring the dribble of stones and dirt that trickled out of the wound.
The dust mephit, now minus one limb, rose into the air and backed away from Tojo. A roiling cloud of dust sprang up in front of the samurai. Dirt and mud rose up a good thirty feet into the air, more than three times the height of the hovering elemental itself. The wall of wind swiftly curled into a rough square shape, enclosing both the steam and salt mephits inside it. Realizing that arrows could not penetrate the cloud, Tojo cursed in Nipponese as much as his coughing and choking on dust would allow.
Sir Corvis, approaching but still lagging behind, fired off another arrow at either the fire or the earth mephit. Nesco couldn't tell which one, because the missile sailed between the two. The ranger dodged again as fire spewed forth from the former's mouth at her. She avoided the worst of it, but Nesco could feel her body start to weaken. The chill of her chainmail now seemed a long-ago, almost fond memory as burns sprouted up all over the exposed skin on her face and arms. At least she was able to keep avoiding the magma creature's claws while looking for the best opening to attack.
A stream of salt crystals shot forth at Tojo, passing right through the wind wall without hindrance. The samurai weaved and twisted, avoiding all but a few crystals. Those that did hit raised several angry-looking welts.
Tojo paid them no heed. The samurai was already in motion again. Unlike its dust cousin, the salt elemental was still on the ground, and Tojo was on it in an instant, charging through the wall of dust and slicing at the elemental in a style known as kesagiri.
The katana cut into the salt creature at the left shoulder and continued diagonally downwards, the blade continuing to move through salt only by the virtue of the samurai's skill and strength, before exiting at the monster's right hip.
Like a sliced apple, the top portion of the salt mephit slid off the lower torso to land on the ground. An instant later, nothing was left of the monster but two piles of salt, which were quickly sucked up and incorporated into the dust mephit's wind wall.
The steam mephit slammed into the crater floor with a puff of steam and a whistling noise that sounded like a tea kettle come to boil. The creature, blinded and stunned from the color spray, could do little but snarl and hiss. It took some comfort in hearing the scream of the falling human, although it did seem to be getting rather louder-
Zantac landed directly on top of it.
What was left of the elemental before Zantac's weight crushed it out of existence didn't cushion his impact much, being composed of little more than steam. Pain exploded in the magic-user's brain as his head and then the rest of him struck. Too winded even to cry out, he could only lie there, his lungs trying in irregular spurts to draw oxygen into his body. Zantac's lower body spasmed and twitched, and he could feel blood pooling under his left ear, which was currently pressed hard into the unforgiving dirt.
Nesco knew she was in trouble. The magma monster was occupying all her attention while the fire mephit looked like it was getting ready to breathe flame on her again. She knew she wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer against this kind of-
A white hemisphere suddenly hid the fire elemental from view.
Knowing what she'd see, Lady Cynewine nevertheless risked a quick glance behind her. As expected, she saw Cygnus, still moving westwards along the crater's edge, catch her gaze and offer her a smile.
His wall of ice, she thought. That thing will burn through it, but it gives us some time, and that's what I need the most of right now.
Then she heard the mage yell.
"Aelfbi! Help Zantac! He's hurt!"
Despite her burns and the proximity of the molten monster, a cold chill ran through Nesco. She did not welcome it.
Aelfbi Gemblossom turned at the sound of Cygnus' command and ran towards the lip of the crater. Not bothering to run to the southeastern section where the wooden ladder was propped up, the half-elf dove over the edge of the crater, landing on his stomach on the steep southwestern slope. The priest's leafweave armor protected him at first as he slid down the side of the crater, but the angle of the crater wall increased rapidly, flipping Aelfbi head over heels and sending him tumbling down the last twenty feet to land with a resounding thud.
Zantac, lying about twenty feet from Gemblossom's current position, forgot his own pain as he watched the half-elf slowly raise a hand to his lip and draw it away, now covered in blood.
"And you're the combat medic?" the mage asked, his voice weak. "Cleric, heal thyself."
Aelfbi slowly rose to his knees and stretched his back, wincing as he did so. He then shot a wry look over at Zantac.
"If I'd had known you were still in a shape to crack wise, I'd have taken a slower boat."
"Sorry," was as far as Zantac got before a wracking cough overtook him and he curled up in a fetal position, every muscle he could feel screaming out in protest.
The priest headed over to him.
Another earth mephit, this one already enlarged to gnoll size, burst out from the trees and lumbered towards Nesco.
The ranger felt another stab of fear run through her, even as she stabbed the magma mephit again. Great Zeus, she thought. What if some kind of dimensional portal has opened back there in the forest? Will these things keep coming forever?
Then she heard the shout.
"No! I won't let you!"
And a man ran out of the woods after the mephit.
As far as Nesco could see, the newcomer was encased from head to toe in full plate armor that although ornate and covered in design work, looked as if it had seen better days. It was dirty and sported numerous dents, scratches and burn marks. He was swinging a heavy flail as he came and continued to scream at the earth elemental. Although the mephit was faster than its human pursuer, it suddenly stopped and swung a heavy, if clumsy, fist at the man, who managed to dodge despite his heavy armor.
"I won't let you harm them!" the unknown warrior shouted again. His face was hidden behind a full visor, but his voice was charged and full of passion.
Then, incredibly, the being he was fighting replied.
Nesco did not know that these creatures could understand the Common tongue, let alone speak it. The earth mephit's voice was gravelly in the most literal sense, sounding like rocks grating together that somehow still managed an approximation of a human speaking. Oddly though, the mephit's voice seemed aloof and unemotional.
"You should not have brought your curse among them," it said to the man.
Saxmund, now perhaps only thirty feet or so from Nesco, fired another arrow at the first earth mephit. The creature pulled out the arrow that penetrated partially into its chest and snapped it in two.
The dust mephit blew a stream of stinging particles at Tojo, but the samurai was already moving back outside the creature's wind wall, resheathing his katana and picking up his bow again.
Sir Corvis, still advancing, fired off another arrow but hit nothing.
Nesco could see a faint glow on the inside side of Cygnus' translucent dome of ice where the fire mephit had moved to attack the wall, but there was no immediate sign of any ice melting.
Suddenly, the magma mephit stopped trying to claw Nesco and smiled at her, stepping back a pace.
The ranger tightened her grip on her sword.
And a sound that mixed bubbling, boiling liquid and fire came from the lava creature's mouth, which was lit from within by an intense orange glow.
Somehow, the thing made words.
"Look at bright colors," it said.
The thing's skin suddenly bubbled madly as if multiple objects were about to burst right out of it.
And Lady Cynewine threw her arm across her eyes as a more intense display of pyrotechnics than she ever could have imagined existed ignited right in front of her.
An instant too late.
The light was so bright, the ranger couldn't even scream. The colors were so intense that they literally paralyzed her. Nesco's eyes were closed now, but still all she could see was white, orange, red and yellow. It was just as bad as the trap she had triggered back at Markessa's stockade.
Somewhere, she heard Saxmund scream. Or perhaps Nesco had found her own voice now. She wasn't sure; the brightness was so intense, it seemed to have somehow shut down all of the ranger's senses.
Then battle instinct took over again and Lady Cynewine felt herself stepping backwards, swinging Sundancer in multiple arcs before her, certain that the magma mephit would be attacking again with its claws, thinking to melt and tear Nesco's skin from her bones.
And now they were very likely to hit.
Cygnus kept on running.
His eyes were burning, but the wizard, at over one hundred feet from the magma mephit, had managed to turn away just in time from the awesome but brief display of lights that had erupted from the elemental. He was moving northwest now and approaching Sir Corvis, who had likewise been spared the effects of the mephit's power.
"That thing has got to go," the knight growled, one hand still shielding his eyes as Cygnus pulled up next to him.
"My thoughts exactly," the mage replied, pulling his trusty piece of fleece out of his spell component pouch and casting. From his vantage point, Lady Cynewine was standing directly between him and the magma monster, but that did not deter the magic-user.
He was going for something a bit more subtle.
The lava creature suddenly began swaying wildly on its feet.
Yes!
Cygnus punched the air in triumph. "At him!" the magic-user shouted to everybody- or at least to anybody who might be able to respond.
Although they had seen the pyrotechnics display streak across the sky above them, Zantac and Gemblossom had not had a line of sight to the magma mephit itself when it had utilized its ability, and so had been spared the possibility of blindness.
The half-elf healed Zantac. Only a lingering earache remained.
"Thanks, Aelfbi. Take care of yourself," the Willip wizard said as he bolted towards the southeastern side of the crater, where the wood ladder stood, attached by barbed rungs to the dirt walls of the huge pit.
Nesco Cynewine didn't dare retreat any further. She knew the edge of the crater was nearby. All she could do was pull her shield from her back, hold her ground and try to act totally on the defensive. The ranger tried to pinpoint where the magma mephit was, but the combined screams and shouts of the blinded; which she belatedly realized probably included the entire garrison, was making it nearly impossible. All Nesco could do was pray that her blindness was temporary.
Because she knew if it wasn't, her life was going to be.
Now she could hear footsteps approaching from her left. They sounded heavier, heavier than the lava creature. Were they-
Blast, she thought, as a new wave of fear washed over her. The earth creature!
She turned towards the new threat just as a mountain struck her in the head.
Sergeant Tolan, now moving towards the battle on a light warhorse, screamed with impotent rage as he watched the earth elemental battering the helpless Lady Cynewine. There was no one else who could come to her aid as far as he could see. All the soldiers, hunters and lumberjacks in front of him were clutching at their eyes and staggering around. Worse, this horse was not bred for carrying such weight as a warrior in full field plate, so he was not moving as fast as he would have wished. He couldn't get the damn thing beyond a cantor.
All the officer could do was try and pick out a path northwards that wouldn't involve him trying to trample any of his own men and keep on going.
Yanigasawa Tojo was paying no attention to the newcomer battling the second earth mephit, or the imprisoned fire mephit, or anything else for that matter.
When the first earth creature had attacked Nesco, the samurai had roared with rage, dropped his bow again and drew his katana with lightning speed.
Then he noticed the dust mephit fly directly at and crash into Saxmund, who was standing about twenty-five feet east from Tojo, on the very edge of the impact crater, trying to get her eyes working again. It was clearly trying to bull rush her into the pit.
Unfortunately for the elemental, not only was it smaller than the rogue, its dust form couldn't have weighed more than two pounds, compared with Saxmund's one hundred or so. The creature bounced off her, and the rogue dropped her bow, drew her short sword and started swinging it wildly in the direction she had been hit from. She in fact came close, but her opponent was able to reorient itself and avoid her attacks.
Tojo looked from Nesco to Saxmund. Which one?
He took less than an instant to decide.
And now it was the earth mephit who reacted an instant too late.
The creature's head flew right over Nesco, landed on the grass and rolled over the edge of the crater. The elemental's decapitated body instantly crumbled into a pile of rocks and dirt.
Blood streaming from her ears and forehead, Nesco Cynewine nevertheless managed a smile even as she struggled to find her voice.
"Thank you, Tojo," she said. "I knew you'd find me."
"That," the samurai replied, his breath coming in great heaving gasps, "is what friends are for, Nesco-sama."
Sir Corvis advanced again and fired off an arrow at the dust mephit but missed again.
Water began running down the side of the ice shell where the fire mephit was standing.
The magma mephit stopped swaying, now freed from Cygnus' spell.
Cygnus kept up alongside Sir Corvis.
"I hope you're better with that sword or with that mace than you are with that bow!" he snapped at the knight.
Corvis scowled at the wizard, but the latter was no longer paying attention. His hand had once again come up from his component pouch, this time cradling three small walnut shells, which he rolled around in his fist even as he cast again.
Daze monster was just a test, he thought. Now that I know you've got a mind I can affect, it's time I seriously affected it!
Zantac was scrambling up the narrow ladder as fast as he could, Aelfbi right behind him.
His steed weaving between blinded men, Sergeant Tolan jumped his mount over intervening tree stumps and pulled up alongside Saxmund and the dust mephit. The fighter swung at the elemental, but it was still surrounded by its personal dust cloud and Tolan missed.
The mephit took a step back and blew its cone of stinging dust at both rider and steed. The effect was minimal, and Tolan kept control of the animal.
"Saxmund!" the officer yelled. "Give me your hand!"
The rogue obeyed and with a grunt, Sergeant Tolan swung her up and onto the horse behind him.
The unknown man in plate armor continued to battle the second earth mephit. Neither had yet made a damaging strike upon the other.
Cursing, Sir Corvis flung down his bow, drew his longsword and charged the dust mephit.
Hmm, Cygnus thought as he watched the impaled elemental shriek and then dissolve into a pile of dust on the end of Corvis' sword. He is better at melee, after all. I guess I owe him an apology.
The ice shell was clearly grower thinner now in one spot, the orange glow within becoming more distinct.
The magma mephit hesitated for a moment. Its glowing eyes blinked once, and it seemed to be deciding what to do.
Then it suddenly attacked Nesco again.
"No! Dammit!" screamed Cygnus.
But the ranger had already fallen.
Tojo feinted with his katana and then cleaved directly down, splitting the lava creature's head in two. He yanked it free as Cygnus ran up and began dragging Nesco away from the small pool of magma that the mephit had turned into upon death.
The tall mage silently berated himself over and over again. This was the first time he had ever cast the spell called confusion, and he hadn't known all of its possible outcomes. He had been certain that the befuddled mephit would have left Lady Cynewine alone.
Obviously, he had been wrong.
"Come on, Nesco," the mage pleaded as he brushed off any remaining fragments of molten rock and began trying to revive her. "I'm the only one here who's allowed to get burnt, remember?"
"Aelfbi!" he screamed over his shoulder. "Aelfbi, where are you?"
Zantac's blood ran cold. He didn't knew who was hurt, or how badly, but from the sound of his fellow mage's voice, it sounded critical.
If not mortal.
With a yell, Zantac suddenly flung himself sidewise off the narrow ladder, catching his hands into the hard dirt of the crater wall and hanging on.
"Gemblossom!" he shouted. "Get up there!"
The half-elf was already on the move, scrambling up as fast as he could.
Zantac realized with a sinking feeling that Aelfbi was going to emerge on the southeastern side of the crater, which was on the far side of where he had heard Cygnus yell.
Then he realized his feelings weren't the only thing that was sinking.
The magic-user's stubby fingers were carving gouges in the dirt, but Zantac was starting to peel down and away from the wall.
Tolan felt the tap on his shoulder and turned around
Saxmund's eyes were red and swollen, but she was clearly seeing him. The rogue gave him a weak smile.
"Thanks for the lift."
"Your welcome, Saxmund," the officer replied, his voice grim, "but I'm afraid I must ask you to dismount. I believe I may have another passenger whose need is yet more urgent."
A quick glance at Nesco's supine form was all Saxmund needed. She swung off the horse as Tolan urged it forward again.
Saxmund hesitated for a moment and then headed towards where the new arrival was still battling the second earth mephit.
Sir Corvis was running forward again, huffing for breath as he did so.
With a cracking sound, a ten-foot section of Cygnus' ice dome crumbled into chunks and crashed to the ground as the fire mephit, its claws ablaze and its impish face grinning in triumph, stepped through.
Tojo's katana was there to greet it.
The mephit stared stupidly down at the blade stuck in its chest just as the samurai's wakazashi buried itself in the side of the creature's neck. Tojo yanked both blades free as the creature screamed in agony with the sound of a forest fire.
Cygnus had not had time to cast his resist fire spell. He had in fact only memorized it because of Zantac's taunting him about the burns he always seemed to suffer, but now it seemed providence. Seeing Corvis and Tolan approaching Nesco, the mage rose to his feet, ran up behind Tojo and cast the spell on the samurai with a light tap to his shoulder.
Zantac was also thinking about a specific spell at that very moment. One that he seemed to remember promising to himself- while he was dangling over a subterranean chasm- that he was going to keep in mind every day for the rest of his life.
That spell was feather fall.
Zantac had not kept to his promise.
The Willip wizard made a grab for the ladder but missed and once again plummeted to the bottom of the pit. Fortunately, this fall was only about half the distance of his previous one.
He did not scream on the way back down, but his curses were loud enough to make Aelfbi Gemblossom, now running at full speed towards along the crater's southern edge, blush scarlet.
The unknown man seemed a lot better at defense than he was at offensive, Saxmund thought as she moved into flanking position opposite him. The fighter had yet to draw blood- or stones in this case- but he had managed to avoid being struck in turn.
The rogue frowned. The earth mephit had no discernable anatomy as far as she could tell. It was just a moving, humanoid-shaped pile of rock. Saxmund gritted her teeth and struck.
The earth mephit moaned in pain as it felt the rogue's short sword enter its body, but Saxmund couldn't make any serious penetration and was forced to yank her sword free or lose it as the creature turned around to face her.
"Kill you," it rumbled.
"Try it," she snarled back as her weapon came up to deflect the thing's stony fists.
"Corvis!" Sergeant Tolan shouted as he saw the approaching knight eye the two remaining combats. "Help me get her onto the horse!" he said as he lifted the unconscious Lady Cynewine into his arms.
The knight hesitated for a moment, and then moved to assist.
The fire mephit hopped backwards onto a burning tree stump. A cone of fire shot forth from its mouth.
Burned again, thought Cygnus as the flames washed over him.
It wasn't that bad, however. Tojo's body had shielded the tall wizard from the worst of it and Cygnus had crouched down at the last second, leaving only a few first-degree burns on the back of his neck and arms.
Tojo, meanwhile, was actually unaware of the protection the tall mage had afforded him. The samurai's mind was on offense only as he whirled, swords flying, cutting and slicing.
And with a rush of flame, the fire mephit was gone.
Cygnus immediately ran back to where the two fighters were placing Nesco on the front of the warhorse. Tolan was getting ready to mount back up, but Cygnus put a restraining hand on the officer's shoulder.
"I'll ride," he told Tolan. "I'm lighter. I'll make better time."
The sergeant nodded.
Zantac wearily rose to his feet again, ignoring the trickle of dirt and small stones that rained down on him from above. His curses low and muttered now, the red-robed wizard ignored the new pain coursing through his body, grabbed the bottom of the rope ladder again, and once again started to climb as quickly as he could.
Hunters and lumberjacks, now recovered from the pyrotechnics, were arriving now to aid Saxmund and the unknown warrior, surrounding the last remaining mephit and hacking at it with axes and shortspears. While they were all able to strike the creature however, the axes merely bounced off its rocky hard and the spear points made minor holes, no more than an inch deep.
It was going to take a long time to bring this thing down, the rogue realized.
"Here!" Saxmund shouted at it, not wanting the creature to attack anyone else. She made a false show of leaving herself open.
The mephit however, rose one foot up and slammed it back down on the ground.
Instantly, the earth beneath the creature to a depth of several feet turned into a thick mud. The effect rippled outwards fast, but Saxmund, Tojo, the man in plate and the two hunters leapt upwards at the right instant, and the ground had hardened enough by the time they came back down so that it was able to support their weight again. Only the two lumberjacks were caught in earth up to just above their knees. Cursing loudly, they began to chop at their earthen cocoons with their axes.
Cygnus took off at a gallop towards the south, but after only a few seconds he saw Aelfbi running towards him. As the wizard reined his horse to a stop, the half-elf came panting up and immediately laid his hands upon Nesco's still form.
It seemed to the magic-user that Gemblossom stared for hours at the ranger until he finally looked up to meet his anxious expression.
"She'll live," Aelfbi said quietly, "but it was close, Cygnus. It was very close."
Yanigasawa Tojo roared with rage as his weapons entered the final fry, stabbing and slashing. Combined with the wounds the others had made, the creature finally disintegrated into a literal pile of rubble.
Everyone looked around, but no further figures burst out of the trees.
The unknown fighter lifted his visor. Eyes so pale blue they were nearly white gazed at them all from a face covered with sweat. He might have been in his late twenties, but it was hard to tell.
"It's over," he said. "They're gone."
"How do you know?" asked the arriving Sir Corvis. The knight's eyes were narrowed, and his voice brimmed with suspicion. "Who are you? Did you summon those fiends?"
"My name is Rashlot," the man replied, still catching his breath.
He looked around at all of the expectant faces around him, and his eyes dropped to the rubble-strewn grass beneath his feet.
"I did not summon those monsters, good people," Rashlot said softly, "but it is my fault that they came."
When he looked up again, it was in time to see Sergeant Tolan draw his sword again.
"Explain," the officer commanded. "And if your explanation is not good enough, you'll die here and now for what you've done."
It again took all of Corvis' skill at placation to convince the garrison leader to have everyone, Rashlot included, to reassemble around the fire pit near the barracks. Those soldiers who had not had the time to don their plate mail before had done so now and were standing near Rashlot. Their crossbows were not pointed directly at him, but they were loaded and in hand.
At Tolan's order, Rashlot had removed his great helm. He had a strong chin, covered in days-old growth, and his nose was flat and wide. His hair was cut very short and was so light blonde in color it was nearly white, much like his eyes.
By unanimous decision, Nesco had received the bulk of Aelfbi's remaining healing. Although the ranger had protested vigorously, she had been unable to avoid the cleric's healing hands as she lay in a pup tent some distance apart from the others.
"Nearly all of those mephits attacked you at one time or another, Lady Cynewine," Gemblossom said. "Healing is the reward due any meat shield."
"That's a rather cynical statement," Nesco said, while still laying back down and enjoying the soothing warmth course through her.
"It's one of Garoidil's favorites," the half-elf explained with a small smile. "Lord knows he's earned it- and today, so have you."
"Hear my tale," Rashlot was saying, "and decide as you will."
The others listened, although most of the garrison kept glancing over to the boar roasting on the spit and licking their lips as the delicious aroma of cooking meat wafted over them. Wooden mugs of mead had been passed around, although Tolan had grabbed Zantac's hand as the mage had made to offer Rashlot one.
"He doesn't deserve it," the sergeant said. "Not yet."
"I am originally from Rauxes," Rashlot began, referring to the capital city of the decadent Great Kingdom far to the east.
The reaction to this was immediate. Those of the garrison still sitting rose to their feet as one. Weapons were drawn.
"I knew it!" one of the hunters roared. "You even carry a flail- his weapon! You're a damn Scourge worshipper! A servant of Hextor!"
"Wait!" Rashlot did not stand but raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Would I come amongst you men of Heironeous and speak so openly if that were true? Listen before you judge!"
The others looked at Sergeant Tolan, who took a deep breath and slowly nodded. Grudgingly, his men sat back down again.
"I was indeed once as you say," Rashlot continued. "How could it be otherwise? Even here you know that worship of the Herald of Hell is the state-sponsored faith in Aerdy. From childhood, I knew no other way, and my father was more devout than most. He was a Gray Knight of the Great Skull."
This declaration provoked more scowls and mutterings among the garrison, but Cygnus shook his head in confusion.
"I've not heard of them."
"It's a militant order of the Scourge's church. The Great Skull is one of their unholy relics."
Cygnus looked over at Zantac in astonishment. He was about to ask how his fellow wizard could possibly have known that when he remembered that Zantac was originally from Rauxes as well. The red-robed mage was staring at Rashlot now, a decidedly unfriendly expression on his face.
"As you might guess, my father and the other Gray Knights travelled far and wide to oppose those who served the Scourge's half-brother. He was successful more often than not in his day, but eventually the clergy of the Invincible One decided to strike back. They sent one of their champions to our house in Rauxes. My father was away at the time. It was just my mother and I."
"How long ago was this?" asked Saxmund.
"Over ten years ago," replied Rashlot. "My father not being home, I was this so-called champion's target. He bested me in single combat. He did not kill me however but laid a curse on my head. Wherever I went, these elemental imps would be drawn to me and cause misery and death to all those around me."
He sighed.
"Naturally I went to our church, but they could not lift the curse. They said it had been placed by a divine agent of the Invincible One, and only another of his servants could lift it. In the meantime, the mephits appeared around me again and again- sometimes once a week, sometimes two or three times a day- there was no pattern. Many of my loved ones were slain by those monsters- including my mother."
There were expressions of disbelief. Many of those assembled shook their heads, but Rashlot continued.
"Embittered, I left the faithful of Hextor, and I've been wandering westwards since that day. I've appealed to clerics of Heironeous, but they refuse to lift the curse, despite my story. They say I am paying for the sins of my father, who continues to serve the Gray Knights."
"It's hard to believe any servant of the Archpaladin would inflict so horrendous a curse upon anyone, no matter how wicked they might be," said Sir Corvis.
"Believe as you like," replied Rashlot. "You have seen the proof with your own eyes. At Crittwall in the Shield Lands, they told me that those of the Archpaladin's priesthood who dwell in the Vesve have a more forgiving attitude than most of their brethren, because they are quicker to recognize that it is better to gain an ally than slay an enemy. Especially," and here he gazed keenly at all those around him, "if that ally can provide detailed information about their enemy."
There was a brief silence, which was broken by Sergeant Tolan.
"Do you mean to tell us you are willing to betray those of the Gray Knights, including your own father?" he asked, the skepticism evident in his voice.
"I have already been betrayed by them," responded Rashlot coolly. "I was due to be inducted into the Gray Knights a mere three months before this happened. The "help" they gave me consisted of advice to hurl myself into the legions of Heironeous' faithful and die gloriously along with my curse. My father was in complete agreement with them. Priests of other faiths have tried and failed to lift the curse, so I have come here. I was heading towards Flameflower but strayed off the path while gathering and became lost."
"Still seems like an unlikely tale to me," grumbled one of the lumberjacks.
"I did hear one of the mephits make mention of a curse," said Saxmund.
"Tell us then what you know," said Sergeant Tolan.
Rashlot raised an eyebrow. "Before my curse is lifted? I may have been misguided in my faith, but I am no fool. First I will be free of this plague. Then I shall talk."
The garrison leader shrugged. "We have no priests of the Archpaladin here. You'll have to-"
"Wait a minute," interjected Cygnus, holding up a hand to Tolan and then glancing over at Rashlot. "Have any arcanists tried to lift this curse of yours?"
The fighter raised an eyebrow in turn. "Is that within their power? I had no such idea."
Zantac looked excited. "Ciggy, you-"
"Yeah, I know," responded the tall wizard. "The one I copied off Lamonsten's spellbook. It worked well enough to rid Aslan of his collar. It might work here. Certainly nothing to be lost by trying. I don't have it memorized, though. We'll have to wait until tomorrow, that but we were originally planning on that, anyway."
"I would be forever grateful to you," said Rashlot.
"Not so fast," growled Tolan. He glared at Cygnus but jerked a thumb towards Rashlot. "By his own admission, those things could come back at any time, and I'll not risk that here. If you won't be ready to cast that spell until tomorrow, he'll have to sleep out in the woods by himself- preferably a league off or more."
"By himself?' asked Saxmund.
"He's done all right so far," replied the officer. "Those are my terms. Take them or leave them."
Saxmund started to protest, but Rashlot held up his hand. "That's quite all right, my lady. I understand the sergeant's position and would do the same if I were he. I'll be all right," he said, rising to his feet. "I shall return around midsun tomorrow."
"At least give him some food," said Zantac to Tolan.
"He's managed on his own so far," the sergeant replied, his eyes locked with Tolan.
"I can ask for no more," Rashlot said, then gave a small bow. "I shall see you all tomorrow. May cold iron avail you."
He turned and walked off into the forest.
"So what do you think?" asked Cygnus, after he had related Rashlot's story to Nesco and Aelfbi.
Lady Cynewine considered while trying in vain to find a comfortable position to recline in.. Although she had received generous healing, red patches still dotted her skin where flames had scorched her skin. She ached all over.
"I can't help but think of Talat."
The wizard nodded. "Yes, I was struck by the parallel as well. Two former worshippers of the Scourge trying to escape their pasts. Yet I'm not sure I believe either of them."
"Nothing pleases the gods of weal so much as the redemption of a wayward soul," Aelfbi said, repeating a point he had made many times before. "Spiritual rewards such as that often require a leap of faith."
"Yes, but it isn't the gods who wind up with a dagger in their back if in the soul in question turns out to be a treacherous one," Zantac observed.
"That may be true." Cygnus had to agree. "Certainly it wouldn't be the first-"
He stopped. Zantac saw his fellow wizard's head snap up and then swivel around so that Cygnus was staring intently towards the northeast.
Zantac felt his own body start to tense up again. He knew that look.
"Your alarm again?' he asked, but he needed no answer. Cygnus was already starting to run across the clearing.
"Alert the others!" he called over his shoulder.
"It's probably just another damn raccoon!" Zantac shouted back, but he was already on his way towards the barracks.
"You willing to take that chance?"
Having only one such alarm spell available to cast on behalf of the garrison, Cygnus had chosen to cast it on the point just before the supply trail entered the clearing, reasoning that if orcs or some such had managed to uncover and follow the trail, they would pass through that way while tracking it back to its source. Twice the previous night the Aardian mage had received the mental signal in his head that indicated that something had entered the spell's area of effect. Both times the disturbance had been identified as small forest animals attracted by the warmth and smells of food coming from the fire pit.
Even at a hundred feet out however, Cygnus knew that this time it was no false alarm. The slanting of the setting sun showed several figures heading towards the clearing.
And one of them was very large.
Before he had even made a positive identification, Cygnus was yelling back over his shoulder.
"It's Agarth!"
Almost a full day ahead of schedule, the mercane and his party entered the encampment. Cygnus felt the others come up behind him as he stared at the approaching figures, who had recognized the wizard and were now heading for him.
"They must be exhausted," he heard Nesco mutter. "Agarth must have really pushed them."
That did seem to be the case, at least among the four arriving humans. Golatunt and the Journeymen were dragging, their faces mirroring the exhaustion they were surely feeling in their legs.
Agarth however, showed no sign of fatigue at all.
Cygnus heard yells and a call to arms behind him, but Lady Cynewine, showing remarkable cheek (Cygnus thought) countermanded Tolan's orders and explained that these were the rival explorers they had briefly mentioned yesterday upon their arrival here.
"That damn giant will eat that whole boar," one of the hunters growled. "He'll set us all to starving if we have to feed him."
"Don't worry," replied Zantac. "He carries what he needs with him."
Golatunt, having already been here once, was recognized by the garrison and greeted more heartily than the others. It didn't take long for the scout to find out about Rashlot and report the news to Agarth, who demanded a complete accounting. Not from Sergeant Tolan, but from Cygnus.
The wizard started with Rashlot, which necessitated going back to the mephit attack and recounting what had transpired. Agarth listened with polite attentiveness but did not seem moved or concerned in the slightest.
But someone else was.
"Mephits?' a harsh whisper came from the darkness from beyond the fire pit. "Did you say they were mephits that attacked you?"
Bertram walked up to Cygnus.
The mage blinked in surprise. He'd thought the Journeymen were pitching camp a good hundred feet away. The sellsword must have been listening nearby from the beginning.
The young man- no older than Tojo, Cygnus guessed- stared at him. His whole body seemed to tense up with an expectation of the wizard's answer.
"Yes," Cygnus said. "According to Zantac here, they were mephits."
Bertram gulped hard and chewed his lip before he seemed to find his voice.
"It was mephits that attacked the garrison guarding Chic at Willip. I know. I was there."
The others looked at each other before Cygnus turned back to the mercenary.
"Mephits can be summoned by spells, Bertram," he explained. "That hardly means-"
"Did you hear anything before they attacked?"
Again, looks were exchanged, and Cygnus saw puzzlement on most of the faces present.
"Such as what?' Nesco Cynewine asked.
Bertram hesitated. It looked to them as if the young man was afraid of sounding like a fool, but he squared his shoulders and replied.
"A chiming. A ringing of any kind. Before the mephits burst out of the woods."
Nesco shook her head. "No."
"No," both wizards said in unison.
"No," said both Saxmund and Aelfbi.
"No," came from the assembled garrison.
"Yes."
Why am I surprised? Cygnus thought to himself as his gaze slowly settled on Yanigasawa Tojo. After all these years, why am I still surprised?
"I was with you, Tojo-sama," Nesco said. The ranger sounded a little defensive, but the caution she was using to avoid offending the samurai was plain to those who knew him. "I thought I heard a voice, although I couldn't make it out, but I heard no chiming."
"Heard voice awso, Nesco-sama," the samurai replied. "This was just before voice. Very faint. Awmost not hear it. Sound rike tiny berrs, or wind chimes."
"Yes!" exclaimed Bertram. "That was exactly what I heard right before the mephits attacked! I told Aslan all about it- didn't he tell you?"
"We were in rather a rough patch at the time," Zantac told the youth. "Aslan just gave us the bare bones of the story. He didn't mention any bells or chimes."
Chimes? Cygnus suddenly thought.
The wizard rocketed to his feet.
"Chimes!" he yelled out. "Devil Chimes!"
He looked around him. A sea of confused faces stared up at him.
It was then the tall mage realized he'd not yet told anyone what Laertes had told him
He did so now, finishing with a flourish. "Rashlot must be this Devil Chimes the orcs were talking about!"
Lady Cynewine however, shook her head. "I'm not at all convinced, Cygnus. If Rashlot is Devil Chimes as you say, his primary interest would be in finding Ta- ah, Hilda. Why attack us?"
"You've got to stop keeping secrets from us," Zantac growled at his fellow magic-user, but Cygnus ignored him.
"I'm sure there's a connection!" he persisted. "Perhaps he hoped to capture one of us for interrogation regarding her whereabouts."
"Hilda?' interrupted Tolan, looking now from Cygnus to Saxmund. "The woman who's staying with you at Ironstead?" he asked the rogue. "Why would anyone be after her?"
"More importantly," Saxmund said, ignoring the sergeant. "Rashlot said he'd return tomorrow. Do you think he means to launch another assault?"
Tolan cursed loudly as he lumbered to his feet.
"I knew it!" the soldier roared. "Once a Scourge worshiper, always one, that's what I say! I told you we should have cut him down!" He glared at Sir Corvis.
Judging by his expression, the knight's mind seemed to be elsewhere even as he replied to the garrison commander. "I am not yet convinced of his guilt," he said. "Too many pieces of this puzzle are yet missing."
"Then we're going to find them."
Corvis and the others turned. Quthfor and Robert were now standing behind Bertram.
"Pack up," Quthfor told his two junior partners quietly. "We'll leave as soon as we're ready."
The brothers nodded, Bertram saying "Thank you," to Quthfor before they both headed off to take down the tents they had just put up.
"Where are you going?' asked Aelfbi. "You just got here, for Arvandor's sake! You're exhausted! You can't-"
"We can and will," the Journeyman leader cut the priest off. "Where the mind and heart are willing to lead, the body will follow. I have no intention of leaving tomorrow's events to unfold solely by this Rashlot's plans. You said he was clad in plate armor. We should be able to overtake him before morning."
"And how exactly do you plan to track him?" asked Zantac.
By way of reply, Quthfor turned to a nearby scraggly figure.
"Golatunt," the sellsword announced. "We wish to hire you to find Rashlot. We'll pay the same price the giant offered."
"I'm afraid not," came a rumble from the darkness and as everyone watched, the tall blue figure of Agarth moved into the fire's light.
"I have already contracted with this man to lead us both here and back to Ironstead," the mercane proclaimed before turning his bespectacled gaze up Quthfor. "And if perchance your memory is faulty, I hired you and the others for protection for that same time span."
There was silence as human and outsider regarded each other.
"Our contract," Quthfor finally announced, "ends here. I hereby terminate it for pressing personal reasons."
"Half your pay was due to you upon our arrival here," Agarth shot back, and for the first time Cygnus saw real anger in the merchant's eyes, "but that was contingent on the contract being fulfilled! Leave now, and you receive nothing!"
"Nothing but the satisfaction that my conscience is satisfied," answered Quthfor.
"A singularly foolish attitude for a mercenary," Agarth jeered before rounding on Golatunt. "Surely you will not be so misguided."
The scout licked his lips as his eyes travelled the length of the mercane's towering form. Nesco saw that in a seemingly innocuous move, Agarth had shifted his robes, and now the firelight shone off the blade of an immense falchion strapped to the mercane's waist.
Golatunt turned to Quthfor. "I'm sorry, he said," but unless you can offer me substantially more than Agarth…" he let a shrug of his shoulders finish the statement.
Quthfor clenched his fists in frustration. It was clear he didn't have the gold.
And then Lady Nesco Cynewine, formally of the Azure Order, found herself speaking up.
"Golatunt," she addressed the scout. "Sign on with the Journeymen and I will report to Major Standish that you followed every one of his security instructions to the letter."
There was a brief silence while the man known as Gold Up Front scratched his chin and then looked over to the sellsword.
"I need a good night's rest to be at my tracking peak," he said to Quthfor. "Give me that, and we're off at first light."
Quthfor hesitated for a moment but seemed to know when not to press the point. He reached out and shook Golatunt's hand.
"Done," he said.
"This is outrageous!" Agarth roared. "I have written contracts, signed by all of you!"
"Toss 'em in there." Zantac pointed at the glowing pile of firewood. "The fire's getting a little low, anyway."
The mercane spat out something in what the others assumed was his native tongue and stomped off. The others, including the garrison, laughed and clapped, but Cygnus felt no joy in the development, even if he did understand Nesco's rationale for it.
There goes our last chance for a cooperative investigation of the pod, thought the mage to himself. I hope to Asgard Agarth doesn't find something we overlooked.
The night was quiet.
Cygnus grumbled to himself as he rolled over yet again, trying to find a comfortable position in which to study his spellbook which was propped open on the ground in front of him.
The tent Cygnus shared with Zantac was much smaller than a shelterdome would have been, but neither arcanist had that spell at hand, having stocked up on useless dispels instead.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cygnus saw Zantac look up from his perusal of his own arcane tome and give him a sour eye for disturbing him. Cygnus was about to respond in kind when he noticed the patch of dried blood still clinging to the inside of Zantac's left ear.
Cygnus sighed and returned his attention to the arcane symbols etched onto the parchment pages in front of him. He knew it was crucial that he memorize the remove curse spell in case he was wrong and Rashlot was innocent and his tale true. He knew that Aelfbi would be praying at dawn for his daily allotment of divine magics, including the ability to detect evil, which he said he would use on Rashlot as soon as the man appeared. A much more deserving target, Cygnus thought, than Sir Corvis.
The mage's mind was racing, however, and the symbols stubbornly remained so much gibberish.
He sighed again and closed the book. It made a poor pillow, but Cygnus rested his cheek on it anyway and stared out into the night. The rim of the impact crater, perhaps eighty feet distant, crossed all the way along his limited field of vision. The mage could just make out the top rung of the wooden ladder that still lay propped up against the crater wall.
Then two giant hands came into view, and Agarth climbed out of the pit. Cygnus was just about to start a fruitless speculation as to whether or not the mercane had gained any useful information when a second figure climbed up the ladder to stand next to the extraplanar merchant.
Cygnus had to blink several times before he recognized the man, barely more than a silhouette in the moonlight.
It was Sir Corvis.
The mercane bent low as he and the knight conversed. They were much too far away to overhear, so Cygnus could only frown and conjecture.
Was Corvis attempting to use his unique personal magnetism to wheedle information out of Agarth? That seemed the most likely explanation.
And yet Cygnus felt uneasy as he forced himself to open his spellbook again.
He could only hope that the new day would bring answers.
Answers he could live with.