A/N: In spite of my having decided not to try to hold on to the larger narrative, I found that I still wanted to write about the group. There is at least one more scene I intend to write, providing the character involved lives long enough to see it.

My apologies for the lack of context these scenes take place in from an outside-reader point of view. Some facts will be provided at the end of this chapter. The reasons for the discontinuation of this story are given on my profile page.

Malje felt power of her prayer settle over the battlefield. It was like a fine mist, in more than one way; often the strengthened presence of whichever deity smiled on her efforts would crowd out the other voices, but sometimes the reverse held and they came stronger. A word here, a feeling there. A slight tug on the sleeve of her tunic. Death was always with her, but Death also came at her call. It would, of course. Wasn't as though it had a will, much less one to oppose hers.

The neothelid (as Niero had named it) writhed and squirmed before Mogashi's assault. Niero had just closed the distance between himself and the monster and was about to join the fray. Kuros and Kailn were hanging back, readying their next spells.

She saw something bulge under the skin of the abomination's throat.

A voice from nowhere hissed, "It comes―"

―somewhere inside the numinous shell held together by Malje's will, Mogashi roared, "Watch o―!"

Faster than anyone had expected, something exploded out of the neothelid's maw. A wall of something hit Malje, burning through her armor, her clothes, her skin, her bones. She opened her mouth to scream. It was filled with pain, too, and soon vanished.

She didn't feel herself fall backwards, nor see Kuros fall to the same attack behind her. There was a roaring in her skull she could never have recognized.

Her ears had never heard true silence before.

There was movement. Or an impression of it. What was moving, there was no telling. She? The world around her? Some fundamental essence that both were made of?

It felt familiar. Like the otherworldly forces she had known so long.

A thought came to her:

Great.

And another:

What is it this time?

She forced focus into the evanescent sensations with a pure, reflexive application of her will. An impression came to her of moving away. She was not headed in any other direction, just away.

From what, though?

There was a residual... something. Something that didn't belong. Like a mist. It was weaker than the faintest smell, lighter than the gentlest breeze the most sensitive skin could ever have felt.

It felt like blasphemy. Not against any god or any other similar being of hot air and pompous nonimportance, but her. It offended her senses. She wasn't sure why, but it did.

She pushed it away, and it went.

The night sky wheeled above her. Rocks hung there in the heavens. Stars hung like motes caught in crepuscular rays against a shimmering black backdrop. A beautiful golden sun bobbed in place in what looked like very shallow water, sending out glimmering, translucent waves that lapped upon her bare feet. Moons underwent eclipses in seconds and revealed altered faces after. When her eyes turned to observe other things, the perspective shifted and she could see the other sides of the moons. Many things were moving in the distance, some of them in ways reminiscent of living creatures.

...

But if that was the night sky, and if those were the stars, what was that ray of light the stars were caught in?

...

It was confusing. She pursed her lips.

It occurred to her that she was lying down. She sat up and spent a moment beholding all the interesting things swimming in and out of her field of vision.

Must've been a plane shift effect or something. That was a bit extreme, but hey.

The voices were back, too, she noticed. They sounded a bit different, but that was to be expected. Wasn't the only different thing about the place.

Looks like business as usual from here on.

She came to her feet. The view from where she was standing was decent. She didn't feel hungry or sleepy so she took her time observing it, trying also to remember something about what she'd been told about the planes. The topic had never held much interest for her, but not knowing where she was would be something of a pain. How would she get back now? She couldn't plane shift, gods damn it. And floating rocks? She appeared to be standing on one right now.

Bah. This would take some doing.

A voice she recognized as belonging to Kuros came to her, but not through her ears. Oddly enough it sounded a lot like the ghostly chorus. It made sense; she was on another plane, and the ones who always nagged at her were also calling from other planes. Yes, that would be the reason.

::Do you wish to be raised?:: said Kuros's voice.

She didn't deign to answer that. She'd told the lot plenty of times she couldn't die. She was hardly about to start reiterating the point now.

Kuros's voice came again.

::Would you like me to tell your family something, or for something to be done with your body?::

She was hardly even listening anymore. Yeah, sure, something or other about her body. Right. She could see to that just fine, thank you very much. The mention of her family stirred something to the surface, though. Something about... What? Something missing.

The cloak.

Her cloak was missing.

As were all her other clothes.

She rolled her eyes. It was such a drag.

All right, fine. So her clothes were gone. Fine. That meant her cloak had been left behind. That... Didn't please her. She was still considering what to do about that when Kuros spoke again.

::Do you wish for your cloak to be taken to your family?::

Yes. Yes, that would do.

There was a longish pause, and she thought the priest had already left. Then,

::Will you grant Kailn his freedom?::

She rolled her eyes. Kailn serves me. She didn't bother elaborating.

Again Kuros spoke. Funny how a living man could sound more deadpan than any ghost. ::Niero wishes to ask you, 'did you find this trip worth the walking?'::

She sneered in derision. Up yours, yokel.

Nothing more was said for a time. The break lasted just long enough for her to start thinking she'd regained her solitude.

::Do you wish not to be raised?:: Kuros finally said.

Ugh. Humans. She didn't bother thinking up a response.

And then Kuros said nothing more. She felt his presence fade, and she was alone.

Well, as alone as she ever was.

She took another good look at the plane. It seemed interesting in an unusual way, even if it was rather bleak. There was light and there were forms, but everything was so different. She shook her head to herself.

"It's just one dreary country after another, isn't it?"

She interrupted herself, frowning. Something was off. Her voice didn't sound right. It was different in some way the other voices weren't.

Probably a feature of the ambience, she thought.

Her hair had come loose somewhere along the way. She swept it away from the back of her neck and started gathering it into her customary tight plaits.

Her fingers brushed against something strange―and froze.

An expression an aristocrat of her bearing would never have suffered anyone in all the planes to see came upon her face – one of pure shocked surprise. Other things came after that, but that brief moment would be a unique one for all of Malje's eternity.

Her ears were whole.

A/N: Malje was an aristocrat half-elf oracle with death-themed powers who believed she couldn't die. As an infant, her ears were mutilated to look more human to avoid scandal. The plane she ended up in was the Maelstrom. Kailn served her family as a butler slave until their falling-out with Malje's family in Cheliax. Kuros is a cleric who replaced Sujiu, who was killed way back at level four. At the time of these events, all characters were 12th level.