Hm, life is busy these days, but anyway, here goes the next chapter. Don't be shy, please, I am hoping for reviews! (Btw, as always, thank you very much Finduilas)
Chapter V. Original nightmares
It was deep night when they finally reached their camp after having cleaned their armour and boots from the mud of the marsh into a river. For once the lady let the others bathe first and stood guard over the camp all by herself. She wasn't even concerned about being left alone to guard a whole camp.
She just walked around, patting the horses and making sure those that were wearing hobbles were not too tight. She whispered sweet things as she gave sugar cubes to those that were the more tired or the more depressed, missing their masters or afraid of the infinite night. Many were citizen horses, not used to the great outdoors, and were feeling uneasy in the night. Her calimshite horse was not impressed by the night, after living it countless times in the desert, and he tried to show it to the others to make them feel better. With the sugar cubes, it worked.
Then her elven hearing caught a noise behind her. She saw the horses shake their head and turn their ears too. She turned to look and saw a bunch of bandits that were coming this way. She counted quickly. They were twelve. She stoneskinned and walked away from the horses, closer to the center of the camp and the bandits. They saw her and grinned, although their leader held them back, saying there had to be men somewhere; it was unlikely that a woman alone needed such big a camp and so many horses.
They were wearing chain mail in the best of cases, studded leather for most; they only had non-magical swords and there was just one mage with them. Amousca cast a True sight as they slowly came nearer. She didn't cry out for alert. They might decide to rush and there might be a bunch of half-naked knights running here.
"You should leave," she said quietly when they were within hearing range.
"Really?", the leader smirked. "And why would we do that, sweetheart?"
"Because I am no sweetheart. Unless you all want to end up withered or burned to death, I suggest you leave now. And put back down this pair of boots." She looked coldly at one of the thieves who was measuring a pair of boots by one of the bedrolls.
There were some laughs.
"I am afraid you are merely bluffing, and we have a capable mage of our own. Sorry, my good lady, but I have to decline your offer."
"Very well, fool," Amousca said.
She started to cast and was done with her Red dragon's breath even before the other mage was done with her defensive spells. The red dragon's head appeared and breathed a ball of fire in the midst of them. The mage was not dead yet, but it wouldn't be long. Some of the thieves were already dead, but others that had managed to roll away were standing painfully, skin blistered and hair burned.
They rushed towards the sorceress. She cast a Khelben's warding whip on the caster, who was in the process of calling upon lightning. The lightning bolt fried to death two of her own colleagues and went through Amousca's chest without even appearing to hurt her, just after her spell left her hands. After she was sure she had dispelled the other's Spell turning, she started her Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting.
The thieves' weapons exploded some of her Stoneskins, but she could avoid most of their strikes, even while casting. There was doubt starting to appear in their posture. She finished her Horrid Wilting even before the other mage had thought of another spell to cast. There were only two left alive after her spell.
"You can run away now, unless you want me to web you and wait for twenty-five knights of the Order of the Most Noble Radiant Heart."
The two hesitant thieves ran away. Amousca levitated the corpses out of the camp and lined them one next to the other. She would wait to see if Anomen would choose to raise them or bury them with a small Earthquake.
The knights came back nearly half an hour after that. They were stunned to see that the lone spellcaster had killed ten bandits without even enough of a fight for them to hear. Anomen chose to bury them with an Earthquake, and healed Amousca from the lightning that had gone through her chest. He let his hand linger on her shoulder just an instant longer than necessary and she was glad to be cantrip-whitened, because she would have blushed. But then he took his hand away and went around the camp to distribute congratulations and discuss strategies about the night's training.
ooooo
Again Amousca was alone in a cold bedroll that night. She felt a little better to know that they would reach Athkatla the next day, and she would be free of the burden of her scroll case. She also was impatient to hear a magical engineer's opinion on the matter of the manufacturer of such a spell. She always missed Imoen in those occasions; Imoen would have made her laugh. The thief girl had matured nicely into an accomplished archmage, but it seemed that, for Amousca, she could still shed all gravity and manners to be just a mischievous little sister.
Amousca smiled to herself, alone in her bedroll under the stars. Imoen was far from Athkatla at the moment and even if she would not help her with the Rapture of the Father, she could still make her smile and feel better. There were other mages that would help her to see this scroll business through. Coreen and Morul, surely, and possibly Firiman…
ooooo
Amousca was dreaming of demons. This was a rather original nightmare, she mused from some remote corner of her mind as the Blood War unfolded before her eyes. She was more used to dreams of dead corpses in her wake or of Anomen turned a vampire or of Irenicus and being soulless and turning into the Slayer again.
There were hordes of demons, legion after legion after legion of them; there were the Tanar'ri and the Baatezu, fighting forever with their eternity of existence and immensity of power. She looked as they took positions on one of the great hell plains. There was an army of demons to one end, another to the other side, and legions of tieflings and other slaves and pets in between. There were tortured souls leaving the ground with a wail to lose themselves in the infinity of the fiery sky. She was between the armies, on the below ground where she looked up at both armies crashing down the soft slope towards her.
The slaves had bloody eyes and many were frothing as they ran, weapons drawn, a wild look about them. They were screaming louder than the tortured souls and she could feel the psychic lash of the demons at their slaves. Metal was clanking and the ground was shaking, the thunder of thousands of feet moving it to the very core of hell.
She was afraid. She was paralyzed. She watched with growing fright as they moved closer, ever closer, the color of their eyes could be seen, the scars from the torture, the torment in their soul. She curled into a ball on the unwelcoming ground.
Feet kicked her as the two armies of thralls collided one into the other. She screamed and stood and started to run, afraid enough now to run. People were falling all around her. She thought she saw Montaron and Xzar, but did not turn around to make sure. On and on she ran, dodging weapons and bodies. Until she came to an halt.
Here the demons were battling within themselves. The battlefield was drenched in their blood and the chaos was now of scales, wings and hooves. A baatezu with the look of a slayer and a winged tanar'ri were circling each other with great care, very close to her.
The tanar'ri was big, its wings half-folded, held high to be out of reach and ready to land off; the baatezu was blue and scaly, with many rows of teeth and impressive talons on its claws. Amousca froze once again as they looked upon her. Then the tanar'ri turned its gaze of fire upon her and the fire burned her to her very soul, and she could not move anymore, held in the fire of its eyes. And the baatezu looked upon her with its eyes as black as the deepest pit of hell, and she was seized in a fear she had never felt before. She would have been sick if she had not been held by the tanar'ri.
Both demons turned to her and walked to her side by side. She wanted to scream and run and cry, away from this hellish place, but she could not move, she could not move!
She could not move!
The demons paused before her and both breathed into her face, looking at her at eye level with a terrifying smile baring their rows of teeth. She wanted to shiver and turn away from their stare. She could not move!
Then the tanar'ri slowly made a long thin cut across Waatsuskun's back. And the baatezu slightly cut her across her wrist. She thought she would have to faint. She could not possibly be so afraid and not be dead. She could not move!
With one last lash of fear she saw the two demons take a step back as they began to laugh. She saw both their talons being pulled back to take a run-up. And both run her through with their claws, ripping her chest apart as they pulled their talons out of her.
ooooo
She screamed and sat and clasped both hands over her heart. Her heart was pounding so fast it was like a blur within herself. She was drenched in cold sweat. She forced herself to stop screaming and just moaned for a few more seconds, both her hands clasped to her heart. She could hardly breathe.
Already Anomen was coming towards her. He was not rushing, he was just walking – she had awoken everyone in the camp with her scream – she was just lady Cordis here. She was beginning to breathe again, seeing her chest was alright.
But then she saw the demon claws around her ankle. Panic seized her and she screamed again, almost a Banshee wail, and directed the full force of it towards the demon, but she stunned the squires that were sleeping the closer to her nevertheless. Anomen was rushing now. She grabbed her staff and hit the demon with the Staff of the Ram, but the hand did not move. It started to pull her into the ground. She tried to hold herself aloft using her staff and stuck it on the ground on both sides of her. Anomen and Matteo were rushing now. The stunned men closer to her could do nothing to help her. She grasped everything she could catch as she was pulled down into the ground. She could see the gate open under her.
Then Matteo reached her and grabbed her under the arms, closing both arms around her and trying to hold her with all his might. Anomen arrived a second later; he tried to hold her without letting go of Crom Faeyr, which was giving him great strength.
Stunned men were starting to recover. One of the priest protected her against evil. The others approached and some tried to help to hold her, but it was quickly becoming obvious that they could not hold her without seriously injuring her. Anomen felt despair well up inside of him. Matteo fought with despair's energy. No matter the color of her eyes, Anomen could read through them, and he could see that she was scared. Scared half to death, actually. And then, as his grip was loosening, despite his best efforts, as was Matteo's, he saw her face change. It became sudden steel and she turned her head downwards, looking the demon that was Gating her straight in its fiery eyes.
"It's the ka'rashur baatezu of Watche…"
And then she was swallowed whole by the Gate. Anomen had to dig his hand out of the ground.
"Blasphematory bitch!", he heard.
He turned and hit the other right on his nose. He didn't even look who it was. Anger was washing the color out of his sight, and he was satisfied with the feeling of bone and cartilage breaking under his knuckles; he still held Crom Faeyr.
The other was falling on his ass when Anomen regained some measure of self-control, seeing Matteo letting down his weapons and rushing towards the man on the ground. Anomen caught him in a waist hold. He held his son back as he was punching his arm and shoulder with both fists, kicking him in the shins with his feet and screaming:
"How dare you! How dare you say that of my mother! How dare you hold me?"
One of the priests knelt beside the fallen man, who was writhing and groaning on the ground. He gave him a minor healing spell. Matteo didn't stop to yell. Suddenly the man spoke.
"Your mother?", came the numb voice of Theophilus.
Anomen silenced Matteo before he could say anything foolish, but everyone saw him mouth "son of a bitch", still squirming to get free from his father's grip. The half-elf should have been able to resist such a simple spell as silence, but he was far too angry to muster the necessary concentration.
As mist dissipated from Theophilus' mind, he started to notice that Matteo wasn't the only one that looked angry. Anomen was not looking exactly pleased either and, if he remembered correctly, it was his fist that had knocked him out. Nogam and Proteor suddenly caught Matteo between them, and Anomen let go to turn to face Theophilus.
"If you do not take back those words about my wife, young squire, I will challenge you and have you routed from the Order," Anomen stated very coldly, very calmly.
"Your wife?", Theophilus asked again, dumbly. "But she said that the Watcher had ka'rashur servants!"
"She was cut mid-sentence," Anomen cut coldly, so coldly. "Now this is your last chance to take those words back."
There was a silence. "I am sorry, sir, I had no idea it was your wife."
"Even then, Theophilus, had she not been my wife, she would not have deserved such harsh language. Take it back."
There was a commotion behind them and sudden shouts of alarm. But a low voice said:
"If you challenge the boy, Delryn, he'll have a champion."
Anomen recognized the voice with a mixture of relief and annoyance. He told the lookout to stand down. "He insulted my wife, Sarevok," Anomen stated. "Stay out of it."
"Worse has been said about Bhaalspawn," Sarevok remarked calmly.
"She's a Bhaalspawn over that? How in the Nine hells could she…", Theophilus began.
"If you want a champion, I strongly suggest that you stay silent," Sarevok threatened. He managed to silence the young inquisitor. "Now, could we stop bickering and start the rescue, yes? That's what you do, isn't it?"
Anomen turned to Theophilus. Matteo had not took his eyes off the inquisitor, even though his father's ire against the squire had quieted him a little.
"I take my words back," Theophilus said. "My apologies."
Anomen refrained from saying something else, Matteo from mouthing anything. Imoen and Kelsey were already over Amousca's bedroll, pouring powders and flaring herbs and doing other magic-users tricks. Minsc and Mazzy were standing calmly, not far from there.
"She's been taken by the Ka'rashur of the third level of Watcher's Keep," Anomen pointed out.
Imoen sprang to her feet. "Why didn't ya say so sooner?", before starting to measure some more powders and hair with Kelsey's help. "I can gate us to the second level only, because of the dead magic zones of the third level."
"Remember to be careful with that Ward, Immy," Kelsey scolded.
"Yes, yes, of course, of course, and don't forget to close that gesture," Imoen mimicked as she was preparing the gating ground.
Anomen gave his orders to have the rest of the Order's men to go back to Athkatla to report their victory over the lich, and his unpredicted marital problem.
"You don't think of sending me back with the rest of them?", Matteo snarled, now that the Silence spell was over.
Anomen sighed. "Matteo, this is not the only issue. There is the question of those scrolls we found in the lich's tower. It's a copy of the Rapture of the Father."
"What?", Imoen asked, nearly hysterical. Kelsey put a hand on her shoulder and she turned to bury her face in his shoulder. An uneasy quiet settled on the men of the Order. It was always a grim circumstance to be confronted with evil of such extent.
"What?", came the slower answer of Matteo, frozen.
"You must get those scrolls to Coreen or Morul or another wizard of power and trustworthiness to have them destroyed. And find who is creating them. Do you understand?", Anomen asked, the urgency plain in his voice.
"Y-yes but… but you can't possibly go through Watcher's keep alone?", Matteo asked.
Sarevok let out a low chuckle. Proteor shot a look at the tall warrior, then said:
"Well, if there is enough room for us to come through the gate with you, I know a small contingent of cavaliers that would be more than happy to help you to battle some more demons."
"Watcher's keep is no easy trek, Proteor," Anomen opposed himself. "That pit fiend summoned by the lich was not half as bad as some of the demon lords down there."
"I will only take the willing knights with me, then, and will not accept squires." Two of the four cavalier knights stepped out of the rank bravely to stand next to their officer.
"Another hand is always welcome, Delryn," Sarevok said. "We can manage alone, though, and it's your choice to let your men come or not."
Anomen made a pause, even though his heart was screaming to go as quickly as possible to his lady's rescue. She would be drained of magic and spells after all those illusions during the training and her lonely fight against the bandits. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus.
"Matteo, you will go back to the city and determine if there are any other copies of the Rapture of the Father. Do not go after the manufacturer of those scrolls unless you have a battalion of offensive and breaching mages with you. Is that clear?"
"I understand, sir," Matteo said, his voice cold and strained.
"Sarevok," Anomen turned to his brother-in-law, "can you spare Kelsey for a while? We need Imoen to gate us in and out of Watcher's keep, but it would be good to have at least one spellcaster going after the mage that's creating scrolls of the Rapture of the Father."
"We can manage," the warrior said. "In the worst cases we'll just rest for Imoen to study her spells."
"Shut up, ya bluster. I'm an archmage, and can deal more damage than you."
"Of course, sis," Sarevok grinned, before he winked to Kelsey, who was doing at least as much damage as her.
"Okay, I run after the evil mage with the knights. Got it," Kelsey said, before he gave a quick kiss to Imoen, whispering his goodbye in her ear. He went to stand next to Matteo.
"Proteor, novices, you are with us," Anomen ordered. The cavaliers stepped forward gravely.
"Okay, gather everyone, we're going down," Imoen said as she completed the last preparations to her modified Gate. "And a protection from fear might be a good idea, just in case…"
Anomen granted them the protection, and they were swallowed by the Gate. Matteo took a breath. He turned to Nogam, the highest-ranked officer now.
"Your order, sir," the undead hunter said, nodding respectfully.
"To Athkatla. Close ranks. Kelsey, you ride with the inquisitors. They'll True sight for you if you ask."
"Fine, Matteo… sir," the sorcerer amended. He thought to himself he had to ride with the inquisitors. A sorcerer in the middle of inquisitors. How funny.
