The night seemed to grow darker as Alustriel and the remaining Companions of the Catlash moved warily up the wide concourse toward the Dome of Birds. The moon had set directly behind the huge building, and the dome was silhouetted eerily against a glowing backdrop of wild, tattered clouds, scudding crazily across the sky as if blown by a gale wind, though hardly a breeze stirred on the surface. Except for that distant tableau, everything was in inky darkness, and they dared not carry a light for fear of alerting the inhabitants of the Dome. The companions could take hardly half a dozen steps without someone stumbling over an ancient, buckled piece of pavement. Only Kaldura, with her dwarven night-vision, could proceed at a steady pace. She went ahead in the lead and warned her companions of the more treacherous spots.
It was more than simply darkness that troubled them. Every step closer to the sinister Dome of Birds brought with it an increased sense of unease among each member of the group, though only Alustriel could sense the deep, terrifying wrongness that surrounded them. Something was wrong with the mythal. The great field of magic that encased the ancient city was in many respects a living being, and one which Alustriel had come to know quite well over the many centuries. They were kindred spirits in a sense: both serving as repositories of titanic magical forces, both faced with tremendous responsibility in the use of those forces.
But the more Alustriel reached out with her mind and senses to touch that kindred spirit, the more she was confronted with a growing, fearsome truth. The friend had become a stranger, and the stranger was not a friendly one.
The Companions of the Catlash saw huge, looming things out of the corners of their eyes. They felt eyes glaring at them from the very pavement they had just walked over. They heard what should not have been voices but that may have been nevertheless, whispering things in the darkness that would drive the listener mad if only they could be heard a bit more clearly. This was how mortal minds perceived the wrongness; Alustriel needed no such theatrics in order to feel fear.
Their legs all seemed to turn to lead as they covered the last hundred feet or so to the wide staircase leading up to the huge, covered portico of the Dome of Birds. They felt as if they walked through deep water, and each of them recalled dreams of being pursued by some horrible, nameless thing, and of being unable to force their legs to run.
The climb up the dozen steps to the porch took forever. They each seemed to hear thousands of voices were clamoring all around them, though the only true sounds that could be heard were those of Chaldara and Jandeth muttering fearful prayers to Tymora. That sound came to the others as if through a tunnel, from a great distance.
A dreamlike last few steps across the porch and through the gaping hole where massive oaken doors used to stand, and they were within the Dome.
The sense of oppression disappeared so quickly that the Companions wondered if they'd been sleepwalking. They shook their heads and looked around them.
They stood in a huge room, tiled with what had once been expensive, polished stone and roofed with a massive, broken dome. The room seemed to be the center of a nexus, as arched doorways opened into darkness all around them.
"A bit mundane for the lair of a lich, I would say," observed Catlindra.
As if on cue, a tremendous noise of rushing wind roared from all the dark portals, though no wind could be felt. Alustriel muttered a frantic prayer to Mystra and hurried through the words and gestures of a spell, hoping that the mythal wouldn't warp her magic.
As they stood frozen with confusion, a hundred blades flew like bolts of lightning from each doorway, making for the companions as surely as if they were fired from archers' bows. Alustriel gritted her teeth, half expecting to hear the sounds of screams and tearing flesh as her friends were butchered.
But the spell held. All the blades rebounded off the invisible magical barrier and fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. The four mortal adventurers gasped in unison, taken utterly by surprise, and drew their weapons simultaneously.
They all looked to Alustriel with fear in their eyes. "We owe you our lives, Lady," said Jandeth, "but I pray to all the gods of goodness that we live to repay the debt."
"Master Marogance...where are you?" cried Alustriel, her voice trembling, more with anger than with fear.
Something stirred in the darkness beyond each of the portals. Points of yellow light seemed to hang in the inky darkness beneath the carved lintels. Then demons stepped out from each of the doors, bowing their heads to clear the archways.
They seemed to be made of pure darkness: no features could be seen except for the horribly glowing eyes. They seemed to walk on two legs, but their bodies were unnaturally long and thin and segmented like some kind of insect. Each was more than ten feet tall, and each had six arms, and each hand held a sword.
The demons rushed forward with appalling speed, breaking through Alustriel's barrier spell as if it were not there. Chaldara and Jandeth each spoke a word, and swords of fire leaped to life in their hands. Catlindra drew her longsword and Kaldura her mace, and the battle was joined. Alustriel stood and watched in mute horror: the demons seemed to be ignoring her. She knew that she was a powerful mage, that she should be casting some mighty spell now to rescue her friends and drive these monsters off, but every attempt to focus her mind resulted only in paralysis. She'd never experienced such gross indecision and inaction before. Dimly, she was aware that there was something amiss with her, too; perhaps the same thing that was wrong with the mythal.
The battle was no contest. Catlindra and Kaldura managed to ward off the first series of blows, but they were driven to the ground and could do nothing but hold their weapons up before them. Jandeth's flame blade seemed to slice right through the body of her fiend, but with no discernible effect. She ducked low just as the monster's blade whistled inches over her head.
Chaldara had no better luck with her own flame blade spell, but she couldn't avoid the thing's sword. It swung at her in a deadly arc...and passed through her, as if through thin air! Alustriel watched in confusion as the apparently unharmed priestess fell to the stone floor, unmoving. But Jandeth saw this and screamed in dismay. She turned wild, tearful eyes toward Alustriel. "Oh, gods have mercy," she wailed, "she's cut in two...cut in two! Help us, Lady!"
"But...she's not..." stammered Alustriel, trying with all her strength to stave off the terrible mental paralysis that gripped her.
"Hold," said a cold voice behind her...a voice that Alustriel recognized. The demons broke off their attack immediately and stood as if at attention.
Alustriel turned slowly. The room had gone deadly silent except for the muffled sound of Jandeth's sobs.
Lord Marogance stood there, looking as he had looked when Alustriel was only a young girl, coming to study under him for the first time. There was no sign of the ancient, withered husk of a man she remembered from the last time she had seen him. He had wild, black hair and a beard, and his clothes were black also: black breeches and jerkin, black cloak, black boots. In his hand he held a glowing golden stone. At his back was an army of ghouls, identical to those who had attacked their encampment earlier in the night.
"Well, Bright-Eyes," he said. "I thank you for your prompt response to my summons. Your sense of responsibility is still as acute as ever. It will make my task much easier."
"What...why..." was all Alustriel could manage.
Marogance shook his head in disapproval. "Come now, my dear," he mocked, "this dithering is hardly like you. I have brought you here to destroy you, of course."