Guild Wars: Vengeance

by Ewol Navi

Called out of exile, a lone ranger returns home to the Land of the Golden Sun and finds the continent at war. In her quest to save Elona from evil and tyranny she makes alliances, forges a guild and faces the demons of Torment. Joined by an intrepid elementalist, she must end the ambitions of a mad Warmarshal ... before Nightfall comes. (Novelization of Guild Wars: Nightfall)

25. Chapter 24: Still Waters

Ch. 24

Still Waters

The following takes place between 1 pm and 8pm,
on the day of the Execution of Spearmarshal Kormir:

Carved by the Elon itself, the Rilohn Cliffs were among the largest natural land formations in Kourna. Originally a part of the Bahankor Mountain range, the Cliffs had been cut out by the river Elon as it ran south east from the cataract at Jahai to join the Bahnelon in the far east. However, the building of Kunai's dam, the great Mahnkelon, had diverted the Elon's floodwaters westward. The great river broke through the rocky badlands to the southwest and washed away stone and soil as it laid down the bed upon which it would travel for a hundred years. The Cliffs had been cut off from the rest of the Bahnakor, and now existed as a broken peninsula of highground that extended as far south as Kodonur Crossroads.

It was into these cliffs that Dehjah led the battered band of demon slayers, while her sisters cast their healing magics over the party. Despite the relief in their bodies, as brusies healed and wounds were mended, there was little to be done about the party's fatigue. Even the Djinn seemed to be suffering frome exhaustion, and their ethereal bodies sunk low to the ground as they floated amongst their human companions. When Kydar inquired as to the cause of the spirits' weakening, Dehjah gave him a labored reply.

"We Djinn are bound to the natural forces of the world," she claimed wearily, "It has always been so, whether or not we choose these bonds for ourselves. Nature is our strength, and our life. When it weakens, so do we."

"But the river did not always run here," Kydar commented, "Did your people not exist here before the Elon did?"

"In ancient times," Dehjah explained, "This land was peopled by many things, plants, animals and beasts of all kinds. Things that thrived in the desert. Of my people only a few dwelt here, our brethren of fire and wind. But even they were forced to flee when the demons arrived."

"These demons are elemental," Kydar pointed out, "I can perhaps see why they might pose a threat to you, but why are they so detrimental to the rest of the land?"

"They are creatures that are not of this world," Dehjah said with a slow, tired nod, "They do not live with the land, but instead they consume it. Demons are creatures of hunger and thirst, and they must constantly devourer all that they see. They are empty vessels, bereft of the life and soul that fills all other beings. They know nothing else beyond the yearning to be filled. Though these creatures of earth and stone are not the servants of Abaddon, they are, nonetheless, demons. And so they consume all that they can, drawing all things into themselves. Left unchecked, a demonic legion would eventually seek to consume the very fabric of reality itself. And when all has been devoured they would turn upon each other, desperate in their desire to fill the void within."

"And Warmarshal Ossa has an army of them," Tahlkora spoke up, as she bit her lip nervously, "How are we supposed to fight things that can eat the world?"

"Considering how our last fight went…" Melonni added, "I'm more concerned about how we're supposed to beat an even stronger demon."

"Do not be disheartened humans," Dehjah encouraged, "Few mortals have ever slain a demon. The last time these creatures knew defeat, it required the power of a river unleashed to drive them back into the earth."

"See guys," Kydar chuckled, "We got this. If it took the Elon to do what we just did, the Drought doesn't stand a chance."

A few half-hearted chuckles rose from the group, but there were few minds that were set at ease. The hecatonaire had been a challenge quite unlike any the guild had yet faced. Sousuke, however, was considerably more optimistic, and upon witnessing the low spirits of his party, took the opportunity to speak his mind.

"The last time we fought demons," the zaishen said, articulating carefully, "All we could do was run. Many of our comrades fell to them, and we barely survived at all. I saw the Drought slay many of my friends at Gandara, and many Sunspears as well. But this time, we have slain a demon and lost no lives in the attempt. This is a victory, yes?"

There were several nods of agreement in the group. Encouraged by the response, Sousuke gave a firm nod of his own as his brow furrowed in a deep scowl.

"Then I for one welcome this challenge," Sousuke said with stirring conviction, "I welcome this chance to do what this guild was founded to do, to seek and find Vengeance. I will see to it that my cherished friends will go to the halls of their ancestors, with their heads held high and the blood of vanquished demons in their wake. I pray that the Drought feels the pain of the demon's death, as I have felt the pain of my comrades lost. I hope it knows that we have come, and that soon it too will meet the same fate."

There was a visible renewing of fervor amongst the human soldiers, each of whom gripped their weapons with greater purpose. Kydar snapped shut his note book and put away his charcoal as he chuckled lightly in response.

"I think even Kormir would be envious of that speech," he commented.

A few laughs rose from the party, a sign of the rising spirits amongst the humans, as they followed the Djinn into the encampment of Rilohn Refuge. The Refuge had been established shortly after the building of the Mahnkelon Dam, which brought water into the grassy lowlands. The seasonal flooding of the Elon River turned the lowlands into a muddy sea of turbulent water and fertile silt. The spring time floods were a boon to Kournan farming, as it brought rich new soil to the farmlands and yielded abundant crops in autumn. It was, however, an inconvenience for anyone who dwelt nearby. During the flood season, much of the lowlands became uninhabitable, and even dangerous. Stories abounded of unfortunates who had been swept away in the flood, or children who were taken by basks of crocodiles that swam upstream. Thus every season, many civilians from nearby work camps and villages retreated to the high ground of the Cliffs, to wait out the flooding season before returning to their farms and homes. Unbeknown to most, however, the Refuge had originally been founded, organized and funded by the Order of Whispers.

Due to the season, the camp was mostly deserted, as all the workers and farmers were busy tending to their fields or to the dam itself. Even so, the camp was still occupied, by a number of suspicious men and women in thick red robes. Kydar took the lead as they strode into camp, and were met by a familiar red wrapped figure.

"Guildmaster," the Disciple said calmly, "You are late."

"We had some trouble downstream," Kydar shrugged casually, "But better late than never right?"

"Hmm, indeed," Disciple responded, without much enthusiasm, "But time is short, and grows shorter still. The Elon has…"

"Stopped," Kydar responded, "Yeah, we saw. Creepy as hell too by the way."

"It is indeed unnerving," Disciple admitted, "All water in the region has ceased to flow. My men have even found drinking to be somewhat difficult. The Master said nothing of this sort of power.."

"That, dear Disciple," the Apprentice said smoothly, "Is because he did not know."

"No doubt you are right," the Disciple said, obviously unflapped by her comment, "He is, after all, only a man. I find no fault in him for this. The situation is what it is, and we must adapt immediately. Please, follow me."

"Hehe, looks like you're gonna have to do better than that," Kydar snickered at the dark woman.

"Oh, believe me handsome," the necromancer grinned broadly at the elementalist, "I am just getting warmed up."

The group followed the Disciple as he led them into the camp, where several logs had been set up around an empty fire pit. As they approached, several Whispers strode into the circle as well, carrying large water jugs which they set down near the pit. Disciple gestured to the guild and bid them to sit, an offer which they all gratefully accepted.

"We have not much time," the Disciple claimed, "But you will be of no use against the Drought if you are exhausted. Please, drink. This water is all you will have until the Drought is defeated."

"What is wrong with the water we carry with us?" Jin asked skeptically.

"My men have confirmed that the Drought's power is more far reaching than we realized," the Disciple explained, "The entire river valley is under his power. Its effect is not limited to the water of the river, but all water nearby. That will include the water in your skins. Since the water does not flow, you will find that you are unable to swallow it… though if you do manage to… well, one of my men very nearly choked to death on a 'string' of water."

"So we better drink all we can now," Kydar nodded as he uncapped a jug.

"Yes, for you will find no drinkable water from here to the dam," the Disciple nodded, "My men are already calling this phenomenon 'The Thirst'. We believe that while it weakens all living things in the river valley, it has only made the Drought stronger."

"Great, cause that's what we need," Tahlkora sighed, "A stronger demon."

"Please, rest," Disciple said, "I am waiting on a field report, to confirm that my men are in place and ready to aid your infiltration of the Waterworks. Once I have received the message, we will lead you into the valley."

"Hold, Whisper," Yartu interrupted suddenly, "Have you received news of Kournan troops? I have sensed many of them invading my lands in the valley."

"Two battalions marched up to the Waterworks this morning," the Disciple nodded, "My men slipped in with them. We are more than certain that the Warmarshal predicted the Order's action. However, we believe that she is not expecting guild action, else she would have sent a larger force to repel invaders."

"Then my suspicions ring true," Yartu nodded, "However, These humans will do us little good if they must fight through these soldiers to reach the Drought."

"I have…," Dehjah said wearily, "I have called for help. My sisters will be meeting us on the floodplain. We will go before you and clear your path into the Waterworks."

"In your current state? I do not believe you will be of much use," Yartu quipped, "You ought to change forms, friend. You will only continue to weaken as you are."

"Yes… you are right," Dehjah sighed, and looked up, "Disciple, might I ask a boon?"

"Those tents are unoccupied," Disciple nodded and pointed, anticipating the Djinn's request, "I will see about procuring garments, though I may only be able to provide some of our spare uniforms."

"I thank you Disciple," Dehjah nodded graciously as she gestured to her sisters.

The djinn departed from the fire pit circle, and Disciple gave them a nod before he took his leave. The human soldiers of Dormant Vengeance were left in peace to attempt to regain their strength before the hardships ahead. There were few sounds besides groans and grunts as sore muscles were soothed and water was poured, until Anicara turned to Kydar and gave a small nervous cough.

"Uhm… Kydar?" the young elementalist spoke up.

"Yeah?" he asked, raising a water filled flagon to his lips.

"Uh… you know when we were at the river," she said, toying with the hem of her long skirt sheafs, "And I had drowned, but you and Tahlk brought me back?"

"Yeah?" he repeated, and then arched a brow, "What about it?"

"Well uhm… I just wanted to say sorry," she giggled sheepishly, "Cause I'm pretty sure I kinda threw up in your face."

Kydar laughed and Tahlkora chuckled as well but waved a hand at the other girl.

"Wasn't really vomit or anything," Tahlkora chuckled, "It was just the water that was stuck in your lungs."

"Still!" Anicara cried, blushing darkly, "That's so gross!"

"It's alright kiddo," Kydar laughed, "When you've had bloody skale entrails in your nose, a little lung water really isn't that bad."

"I have to ask," Melonni chuckled from across the circle, "Why on earth you would have skale guts on your face."

"I uh… stood too close to one when I blew it up," Kydar chuckled sheepishly, "Went everywhere."

A mixture of laughs and noises of disgust rolled around the fire pit. As the guildsmen went back to drinking, the Apprentice stepped into the circle and took her seat on a log adjacent to the elementlists. The woman stared curiously at Anicara, who continued to drink, oblivious of the eyes upon her. The mochaccino features of the necromancer twisted in thought, before she lightly cleared her throat and spoke.

"Miss Anicara," the woman said, "I hate to bring up old history, but I'm afraid I am quite curious. Would you mind too terribly much if I asked a question?"

"Uhm… no, not really," Anicara arched a brow curiously, "Go ahead."

"If I heard our water spirit friend correctly," she said, "I understand that you are responsible for the death of one 'Mid-shipman Morolah', correct?"

"Yes…" the elementalist said, her brow scrunching at the question, "What about it?"

"Might I ask how he died?" the necromancer inquired.

"I killed him," Anicara responded, "I froze his head."

"I see…" the woman nodded, her pale eyes remaining locked on the elementalist, "And for what offense was he executed?"

"How about you…" Kydar began to retort, obviously agitated, before Anicara shook her head and raised a hand.

"It's alright," she assured him, before turning back to the Apprentice, "He summoned a torment rift in the middle of the Bahnelon. He was also holding captive the minds of everyone in Freeman's Cove. I killed him because he refused to undo either of those things."

"Ah, commendable," the necromancer nodded as she leaned back, "I dare say, heroic even. I'm sure there's quite a few pirates that owe their free wills to you."

"Not that they'd be grateful," Anicara chuckled as she turned back to her water flagon.

The Apprentice laughed lightly in agreement as Anicara took another sip. A small, cruel smirk flitted over the necromancer's features, and her dead eyes lit up with malevolent glee.

"So did you enjoy it?" she asked.

Water spewed from Anicara's mouth, as she very nearly drowned herself again. Kydar again began to retort, but Anicara once more raised her hand to silence him. The water elementalist turned to face the necromancer, her blue-eyes hard and piercing.

"Excuse me?" she demanded.

"Such an evil man he was," the necromancer said, "I've heard the stories. It's said he once drove his entire crew mad, just because he could. I can only assume that you felt some satisfaction at sending so wicked an individual to his grave."

"It was my duty," Anicara snapped, "I did it because I had to."

"Mm, again, commendable," the woman nodded slowly, "Though it is a shame that the same cannot be said for the murder of Werishakul."

The circle upstarted, as several people rose to their feet. A song of steel signaled the drawing of a weapon, as a scythe blade came to hover a hair's bredth from the Apprentice's throat. For her part, the necromancer seemed unperturbed by the threat, and instead raised her pale gaze to the furious golden eyes of Anorah Basilisk.

"Speak of such things again," the dervish warned, "And I warn you, your death will become my duty."

"Is that so?" the woman questioned, arching a brow in minor confusion, "I wonder then how you will bring down the Drought if I am slain. I grant you, I was less than helpful at our last encounter, but within the Waterworks I am certain you will find me to be exceedingly useful."

"Begging for your life?" Kydar quipped.

"Nonsense," the Apprentice smiled up at him, "If anything, I'm begging for yours."

Tense silence reigned in the circle, as Anorah's fingers twitched on the grip of her snathe. The dervish's eyes were now locked on Kydar, awaiting his command to relieve the offending necromancer of her head. The scribe was silent, his bright hazels staring down into the corpse like eyes of the Apprentice of Whispers. The woman's smile never faded, and Kydar finally ground his teeth in defeat.

"Peace, everyone," he commanded, "Differences can be settled after the Drought is dead."

"Hmm, handsome, bad-ass and wise to boot," the Apprentice grinned broadly, "I find myself liking you more and more guildmaster."

Kydar said nothing in response and instead took his seat once more. The others slowly sat as well, all save Anorah who still held her scythe to the Apprentice's throat. The necromancer glanced down at the blade, and then up at Anorah as she placed two fingers on the dervish's weapon and gently nudged it aside.

"You are an interesting one, Adept Basilisk," the Apprentice smiled sweetly, "I do hope you and I get the chance to know each other better."

Following Kydar's lead, Anorah too stayed silent, though her eyes still burned with deep seated wrath. A tense sort of calm settled over the party, though it was broken when a new human voice spoke from outside their circle.

"Have you drunk your fill my friends?" the voice asked.

All eyes turned to stare at a pretty, dark-skinned young woman who approached them on bare feet. She wore a loose fitting tunic, with a rich blue scarf thrown about her neck and shoulders. Broad, billowing trousers clothed her legs and she carried a long, ornate scythe over her shoulder. As other young women, clad in similarly loose clothing, began to emerge from the tents, Kydar quickly drew his conclusion and gave a surprised chuckle.

"Dehjah?" he asked.

"In the flesh," she responded, and lifted an arm to examine it critically, "Though I have always found flesh to be rather restricting. It is different to feel wind on your skin, instead of within you."

"I have heard legends of shape shifting spirits," Melonni said, staring in wonder, "But I did not think they were true."

"That's the problem with you young humans," a scratchy voice snapped, "Too skeptical, no faith in anything but what you can see. Your forebears were far less pig-headed."

An old woman slowly approached them, an apparent hitch in her hip impeding her progress. She leaned on a gnarled branch of hawthorne, which seemed to twist in her grasp as though there was still life left in it. She wore simple robes of brown and burnt orange, though a necklace of jade stones hung from her neck.

"Well that explains quite a bit," Sousuke commented with a light chuckle, "It seems old women are grouchy no matter where you go."

"And it seems younglings lack respect no matter where I go," she snapped and shook her cane menacingly at him.

"Peace, Yartu," Dehjah chuckled lightly as she placed a hand on the old woman's shoulder and turned back to the other humans, "Has our elusive friend returned? We are rather eager to be under way."

"Here he comes now," Jin reported and pointed to the southeast.

The red cloaked figure of the Disciple of Whispers rapidly approached, and he came to a stop several paces away.

"Come," he instructed simply, "Quickly."

"Move out team," Kydar said, "Best empty your waterskins now. It's only extra weight we don't need."

Several nods of agreement came in response and one by one the guildsmen fell in behind the guildmaster. Kydar followed Disciple as he led the group of defenders through rocky crags and gravelly slopes. Rocky terrain gave way to firmer ground and finally to grass as the humans entered the the river valley of the Floodplain of Mahnkelon.

The Floodplain was, in large part, mostly man made. After the daming of the Elon to divert water into Kourna, the surrounding land had been reduced to a mucky swamp. When the flood waters receeded, Warmarshal Kunai Ossa had decreed that the land around the dam would be organized, to gain control over the flooding and ebbing of the river. Thus began the construction of the Mahnkelon Waterworks, a series of pumps and locks meant to harness the river's flow. With the pumps at the Waterworks in motion, the Floodplain was drained, and the Elon marshaled into orderly tributaries that flowed southeast towards the Delta. Among these man-made streams, Kourna's farmers had staked out their lands and begun to arduous task of providing food for their fellow countrymen. Of course the Waterworks could do little against the surging waters of the Elon during its flood season, but the Waterworks remained an invaluable source of clean water for all of Kourna.

The humans stood on the floodplain, and peered into the distance as a small brigade of woman approached from the south. Dehjah explained that these were also water djinn, who had come from the lower Elon to aid in the retaking of Mahnkelon.

"So, being fleshy protects you from the Drought?" Kydar asked.

"In our spirit forms we are nearly one with these waters," Dehjah claimed, "What happens to it will also happen to us. But in these human forms, we are more like you, independent beings who only suffer indirectly from changes in your environment. This is not to say that the Drought can no longer affect us at all, but we are less vulnerable this way than we otherwise would be."

"It is also an excellent means of meddling in human affairs," Yartu added, "Dehjah has actually been employed for years at the Waterworks, posing as an engineer for the pumps."

Dehjah gave a sheepish chuckle but waved the older djinn off as the group of women joined them. There were many greetings amongst the shapeshifted djinn and Dehjah gave a small smile and a shrug.

"We all do what we must," she said, "To protect that which we hold dear."

"Speaking of protecting things," Kydar nodded, "Disciple, anything else we should know before we move in?"

"I have men stationed at the many access points inside the waterworks," Disciple informed, "The Apprentice will recognize them, and give the proper command signs. However, there is something you may wish to consider."

"Hit me," Kydar allowed.

"The last report I received detailed a number of water pumps inside the Waterworks," Disciple said, "We believe now that the Kournan guard contingent was actually escorting engineers into the waterworks, to man these pumps and keep the water locks filled. According to my men, all the valves have been laid open, to allow the Drought and its demons to control as much water as possible. This has led us to two conclusions."

"And they are?" the elementalist asked.

"The first is that the Drought needs these valves open," the Disciple claimed, "And that the reason his control over this region is so strong, is because of how much water he is being fed. If these pumps were to be turned off, we believe the effects of the Thirst would weaken, and thus so would the Drought."

"What's the catch?" the scribe arched an eyebrow.

"The 'catch' is that these pumps are currently keeping the Drought's demons occupied," the Disciple responded, "My men have identified numerous 'hecatonaire' rank demons in the Waterworks, creatures that Dehjah and I have come to call 'Droughtlings'. In order for the Drought to maintain control over all the locks, its Droughtlings must remain standing in the water locks. We believe that if you shut off the locks, you may be forced to fight these creatures… or worse, they may fall back to support the Drought itself."

"No way we can take on those things and the Drought at the same time," Tahlkora balked.

"But with the locks on, the Drought will be that much harder to kill," Melonni put in.

"Yes, but not impossible," Kydar responded, "In this case, I prefer outmatched to outnumbered, plus we've got whatever she's going to do."

The scribe waved in the direction of the Apprentice, who smiled sweetly and nodded in agreement.

"We barely survived the Droughtling downstream," Melonni mumbled, "We hardly stand a chance against an even stronger demon."

"But we stand no chance against an army of them," Anorah stated clearly, "I agree with the guildmaster. We should do all that we can to ensure the Drought is unaided when we face it."

"Then it seems you have made your decision," Disciple said with a tip of his head, "I wish you speed and strength guildsmen. May you purge this evil from our land."

"Thanks, we'll need all the strength we can get," Kydar responded, "Dehjah, lead the way."

The water djinn gave a nod in response and called to her fellow djinn in their own songlike language. Unlike the guildsmen, who formed into an orderly marching formation, the djinni women simply dashed ahead into the river valley without waiting for their human companions to follow. Dozens of barefeet padded over stone and grass, seeming to float even in their human forms as they rushed toward the river. The guild followed suit, more than a little hard pressed to keep pace with the water warriors who moved forward with urgency and determination. The sun had already begun its downward descent in the sky, and the shadows told the time as the afternoon began to deepen. Kydar ground his teeth, this could be close. Last light was only hours away, and the whole of the Floodplain and the Waterworks itself lay between them and the Drought, not to mention the battalions of soldiers and hordes of demons lying in wait. The scribe was broken from his reviere as the party came to a stop, and he looked up to find that they had reached the water's edge.

The Elon lay silent and still, its waters stagnant and unmoving. Even where it has once splashed over rapids and cataracts, the water seemed to ignore gravity's pull, and remained a seamless arch of liquid that hung suspended in mid air. Though the silence was undeniably unnerving, the djinn appeared most disturbed by the still waters before them. A visible shudder coursed down Dehjah's spine, and she turned towards Kydar, her blue eyes wide with shock and surprise.

"He.. he knows!" she almost whispered.

"Who knows?" Kydar blinked.

"The Drought… it has felt us… it knows of our coming…" Dehjah shivered again, "We have no time to waste! We must hurry!"

"Following you," the scribe nodded quickly.

"Wait," Anorah warned, as she brandished her scythe, "Jin?"

"Yes, I feel it too," the Zaishen archer agreed, as she drew an arrow from her quiver, "Sousuke be ready."

"Shi de!" Sousuke responded as the earth began to shift at his feet.

"What is it?" Kydar demanded.

"Demons," Anorah responded immediately.

"Oh what fun!" the Apprentice fairly giggled.

There were no further words to be had, as the ground at their feet erupted. Evil shrieks rent the air as stony grasps sprang from the dirt and swung their claws at the humans. An answering, melodic cry came from the djinni women who lept upon the demons with surpising ferocity. Scythes sang and magic flared as the demon horde was repelled with unflinching brutality. Black, brackish blood spilled from the corpses and demonic death wails lifted to the sky. The battle was fierce, but ended quickly and the demon slayers were left panting as their enemies lay dead. Kydar wiped sweat from his brow, cursing the thick bile at the back of his mouth. It was hot, demon slaying was hard work, and there was no water to be had. The scribe ignored his discomfort and turned to his subordinates, prepared to deliver marching orders… until the earth beneath them gave a rumbling groan.

"What in Melandru's…" Melonni began, before a pained gasp escaped her lips.

Kydar felt it immediately, a powerful and malevolent will that forced its way into their minds. His vision swam as black and brown tainted his sight. The djinn wailed as they fell to their knees, clutching at their skulls in pain. The scribe pressed two fingers to his temple, responding to the invasion with his own psychic defenses. The others did not fare so well, Anicara squeaked and gasped as she suddenly found it hard to breathe, as though her mouth and nose had filled with sand. Tahlkora reeled on her feet, nearly fainting from the sudden pressure as the Zaishen did their best to endure the trial. The scribe moved to his companions, his mind rapidly searching for a spell that would allow him to remove this demonic hex. And then a voice spoke.

"Children of Water, why have you come? My power here cannot be undone. I have laid bare this land and consumed this river. Stand against me, and you shall only shrivel and wither."

The voice fell silent, and as it did the psychic assault passed. Kydar panted lightly as his vision cleared and his defenses relaxed. The party was more visibly relieved, many of them gasping for breath as their airways were cleared of intangible sand and grit. The scribe stepped to Dehjah and offered her a hand, which the djinn gratefully accepted as she rose to her feet.

"The Drought, I assume," he surmised.

"Yes…" Dehjah responded wearily, "It… it seeks to turn us away. These… attacks will only grow stronger, the closer we come to it. But we must… we must press on."

Kydar nodded in agreement and turned to his party. The Zaishen had already pulled themselves together, though despite their attempts at stalwart focus, he could already see fatigue in their eyes. The others helped one another up, with much coughing and grunting as they attempted to gather their composure.

"Form up team," Kydar ordered, "We're loosing daylight. We press on."

None questioned the order, and all moved to follow the guildmaster's instructions. The djinn led the way once more, guiding the humans upstream and into the floodplain itself. Streams of water coursed through the land in all directions, a spider web of ponds and tributaries that brought life to the crops and harvests in the surrounding fields. Even here, all was eerily silent, as neither wind nor water dared to move under the power of demonic influence. Still, the quiet afforded them one advantage, for there was nothing to obscure the sound of Kournan boots marching in the distance.

"Remain here my friends," Dehjah instructed, "We will deal with these soldiers."

Kydar only nodded, wary of spending even what little energy it would take to speak. The scribe selected a nearby rock and made it his seat, and the guildsman followed their guildmaster's example. The djinn bounded away, padding quietly over the hilly grounds of the floodplains until they disappeared from view. No words passed between the guildsmen, and the only sound to be heard was their slow steady breathing. It was turning into a most harrowing day, and there was still a demon left to defeat. In the distance the sound of battle could be heard, clashes of steel, cries of pain and shouts of victory. When the the unsettling quiet returned, Kydar rose to his feet and wordlessly led his guild upstream. The djinn women stood amongst the bodies of fallen Kournans, some of whom were still impaled on bloodied scythe blades. Dehjah raised a hand to wave the humans closer, and then released an agonized shriek as the demonic dominance suddenly returned.

Kydar grunted, the mental burden was heavier this time, and its malevolence was all but overpowering. The sounds of his guildsmen quailing under the demonic power reached his ears, but this time he had no focus to spare for them. The scribe turned every ounce of willpower to forcing the monster out of his mind, even as the booming voice resounded in his ears.

"Foolish you are mortals, and fools you remain, you possess not the power to rob me of my claim. Labor on humans, fight as hard as you must. For I will rot your very flesh, and grind your bones unto dust!"

The dominance ebbed, and as they were once more released from his hold the party of defenders struggled to their feet. Anicara grunted and growled with displeasure, but managed to recover much more quickly. The others too found their feet and strength once more, though the Apprentice appeared more than a little perturbed.

"Well," the necromancer commented, "That is growing most annoying."

"Most annoying indeed," Kydar agreed with a grumble as he strode down hill and called to the djinn, "Are you ladies alright?"

"We will recover…" Dehjah replied, her voice growing more and more weary, "But I fear we will be unable to complete our task for you. The Drought's power is too strong, and we cannot venture much closer. We can bring you to the Waterworks gates… but I am afraid we will be able to go no further."

"It's fine," Kydar nodded, "We'll take it from there. Are you girls ready for another push?"

The djinn turned her eyes upwards, at the slowly falling sun and gave a weary sigh of despair.

"We must be ready," she replied and turned away from the scribe, "Please, wait here. We will call for you when we have slain the next battalion."

Kydar nodded as the djinn drifted away, her feet padding silently across the grass as she marshaled her forces and ordered them to march once more. As the djinn moved out, the guildmaster turned to his own team of soldiers and examined them closely. Despite Sousuke's rather empowering resolve, morale was already running low. The heat, thirst and repeated attacks were taking their toll.

"Apprentice," Kydar said, "It's about time you told us about this plan of yours. I want to know how this demon will be slain."

"I take it you're not one for surprises then?" she asked sweetly.

Kydar's deadpan expression made it clear he was in no mood for games.

"Very well guildmaster, as you wish," the Apprentice responded.

The necromancer lifted a hand to her chest and caught a large ring attached to the zipper of her top. Carefully and slowly, the woman dragged the zipper downward, drawing it dangerously low as her ample bosom threatened to slip the bonds of her sleek leather garment. The necromancer stopped the zipper just shy of her navel and dipped two fingers into her cleavage. Throughout the display Kydar only arched a brow in unamused curiosity, while Adept Jin took the liberty of pushing Sousuke's mouth shut. The necromancer gave a giggle of satisfaction as she lifted her fingers from her cleavage to reveal a silver signet ring. She sauntered forward, holding the signet out in offering and stopped before Kydar to give him a light curtsy.

"This, guildmaster," she said, "Is our means of slaying this demon. In their attempts to stem the tide of demonic intrusion upon our world, the Order happened upon a relic of great power, one that grants holy might to all who swear oaths upon it. Upon this relic the Whispers founded the Lightbringer Chapter, an elite corp of agents who can cast down demons with little more than their gaze."

Kydar arched an eyebrow in mild disbelief at her claim, but reached out and took the ring nonetheless. He examined it carefully, inspecting the design on the face. It bore a symbol akin to a stylized eye, but also resembled some sort of lantern. The scribe returned the ring to the necromancer, who accepted it and returned it to her bosom.

"So did you bring enough for everyone?" the scribe asked.

"Oh no, guildmaster," she replied as she shook her head which set her pale bangs swinging, "Only those who have sworn their oaths may use the power of the ring. The Master did not think you and your guild were worthy of such power, and so only I have been sent with the power to strike down the Drought."

"And what are we supposed to do?" Kydar snorted, "Run around and keep its attention?"

"In truth I am the blade to pierce its heart," the Apprentice explained, "But you and your compatriots are the ones who will destroy it completely. Once I have struck, you must see to it that there is nothing left of the Drought to contaminate or pollute this world. Evil of this nature is infectious, and you must be sure that it is purged."

"Just make sure you hit it hard," Kydar snorted, "Or I swear to Balthazar, my last act in this world will be to torch you alive."

"Mmm, aggressive," she purred and slowly ran a pink tongue over dark green lips, "I like it."

Kydar's temper snapped, and his hand lashed out to sieze the woman by the collar of her leather top. The scribe yanked the woman to him and he stared down at her as his eyes smouldered with the threat of a blast from his Glowing Gaze. For once the necromancer did not further antagonize him, and instead laughed lightly as she patted his chest reassuringly.

"Rest assured guildmaster," she smiled, "I will do as you command. This demon needs to learn the consequences of prying into my mind."

Kydar did not release her, and his eyes continued to glow. The tension was broken by a whistle in the distance, as Dehjah signled that her task was complete. The necromancer's sweet smile never wavered, and finally the scribe's eyes dimmed to their natural hazel. The Apprentice gave a small giggle, but it was cut off as Kydar gripped the ring of her zipper and yanked it upwards. The garment quickly snapped shut as he forced the zipper up to her throat, and her giggle turned to a gurgled choke as the garment constricted around her neck. A smugly satisfied smile crossed the guildmaster's face as he released her and stepped away and gave only a wave of his hand to order the guild to fall in behind him. Anicara snickered as she flounced past the necromancer, who coughed lightly and gave a small noise of displeasure as she freed her throat from the zipper's grip.

Dehjah stood at the top of the steps, with her back to a pair of large wooden doors. The other djinni women were rapidly dispersing, moving quickly to escape the suffocating Thirst of the Drought. Kydar climbed the steps as Dehjah turned from them and strode to the gate. The djinni woman produced a large iron key, which she fitted into the lock and managed to turn. There was a creak of wood and metal as the gates slowly shifted open, and the djinn turned once more to face the humans.

"I can…" she panted heavily as she leaned on her scythe, "I can go no further… the Thirst is too strong… Please… you must hurry…"

"Don't worry," Kydar responded, with as much confidence as he could muster, "The Drought will be dead before sunset. You have my word."

"Thank you.." the djinn managed, "I will… remain here, and await your victory…"

At this Kydar only nodded and then strode past the woman. The Mahnkelon Waterworks were usually very noisy, abuzz with the sound of the mighty pumps that channeled water into the locks. The roar of water was often deafening here, compounded by the constant creaking of the windmills that aided the pumping of water. But here, as with everywhere else, all was silent and still. No creaking or pounding or rushing torrents could be heard, and Kydar grit his teeth against the maddening quiet. But the silence did not last long. The scribe stepped through the gate, and immediately the dominating will returned, forcing him to one knee as he gasped against the sudden psychic invasion.

"Though you persist in your misguided crusade, what you seek to destroy cannot be unmade! For am all that is barren, and famine I bring. In me you shall decay, and know thirst everlasting!"

"You're starting to repeat yourself," Kydar quipped under his breath, "Sounds like somebody's afraid."

The scribe had been certain that the demon could not hear him. He was surprised therefore when the domination returned with renewed, and more savage, fervor.

"Impudent creature of water and flesh! You know not the power that I now posess! But come to me mortal, and soon you will learn! For from dust you were taken, and to dust you shall return!"

Kydar gasped as the demonic influence faded once more and groaned at the ringing in his ears. The demon's roar still shook through his very bones, and the scribe grunted as he managed to push himself to his feet once more.

"Okay… that hurt," he panted.

"I think…" Anicara said, attempting to catch her breath, "I think you made it angry."

"Good," he responded, "Cause I'm pretty pissed myself."

"This is indeed growing most… tiresome," Anorah spoke up, her usually level voice trembling slightly with both fatigue and annoyance.

At this Kydar chuckled, rather surprised at the calm dervish's expression of displeasure. The elementalist twirled one wand between his fingers as his lips curled in a tired, but rougish grin.

"Well then," he chuckled, "Let's go work out some aggression."

"Major!" a cry sounded across the work floor of the central pumping station, "Major! Maajooor!"

"What!" Major Jeahr demanded irritably, "What in the name of Torment do you want!"

The spearwoman skid to a stop before her commanding officer and paused to catch her breath. As she waved her hands in an attempt to convey her message without words, the Major's eyes followed her actions as he tried to discern their meaning.

"Corporal Luluh, cease your inane gesturing and report at once!" the Major snapped.

"Inva… invade…" the woman panted, clapping a hand to her breastplate as she panted heavily, "Invaders!"

"Nonsense!" the Major replied, "Our patrols would have detected them and reported back."

"Patrols are…" she gulped, "Patrols are down on the southern approach. Found bodies in the river… the gate to the… gate to the outer works has been breached!"

"What!" the Major exclaimed, "What happened to the guard detail posted at the outer locks?"

"Eliminated…" the corporal wheezed, "Gate to the… to the secondary pumping platforms has also been breached. We think… we think they're on their way here!"

"Dwayna be damned," the Major swore as he rose to his feet and snatched up a pair of belts containing several long knives, "Get everybody out there now! I'll stop this invasion myself. You move out of the western gate, and get word to the Warmarshal. We'll hold the central station, but we need reinforcements, now!"

"Sir! Yes, sir!" the corporal responded with a smart salute.

Jeahr flung his belts over his shoulders and strapped them on as the corporal dashed out the door of the overseer's office. Until now, Jeahr had been quite proud of himself. The Waterworks had been secured, the engineers were busily maintaining water pressure, and there'd been no incidents with the Warmarshal's monsters. There was, of course, the matter of the Whispers spies among his troops, but he would deal with that later… once he'd invented a sutible execution for them. But an invasion was the last thing he'd expected. The Whispers didn't have the manpower to go toe-to-toe with even a small regiment of the Kournan army, which left only one possible culprit. The terrorist guild, that 'Dormant Vengeance' had been notorious for hitting forts and garrisons, but he had hardly expected them to react on such short notice. The Waterworks had only been occupied that very morning, it wasn't possible for anyone to mobilize that fast. Yet here they were, blasting in the front door and slaughtering more of Kourna's brave men and women. The very thought of those deaths made Jeahr's teeth grind with rage.

He'd been waiting for this chance, the opportunity to take on this guild of miscreants and teach them a lesson in patriotism with the blade of his dagger. The major was painfully aware that his manpower was insufficent, and by numbers alone he lacked the ability to repel an invasion force. But they could hold the central works, and when the Warmarshal arrived the blood of these terrorists would flow like the water through the pumps. Emboldened by visions of victory and dreams of glory, Major Jeahr kicked open the door of the office and strode out into the sunlight.

"Cover, get to cover!" Kydar shouted as he upset a table and ducked behind it.

A battery of Kournan archers launched volley after volley at the party of eight, and grey fletched shafts hissed and twanged as they bounced off of stone and pavement. The guild had progressed with relative ease into the work floor of the secondary pumping platforms. From the low work floor, engineers and maintenece workers could make their way onto the access platforms that led into the interiors of the large pumps and complex aqueducts. The party had done well so far, in avoiding the large water locks that lay to the northwest and southeast of the work floor. But complications arose as the group attempted to make their way through one of the Waterworks' interior work camps, and had been pinned down by an unexpected group of Kournan reinforcements.

"We must flank them!" Jin hissed, attempting to keep her voice low enough for their enemies not to hear, "We cannot get good shots at them from down here!"

Kydar peeked around the edge of his table, and then quickly ducked back as an arrow thunked into the wood. The archer battery stood at the edge of an overflow pool that blocked the path to the final gate, which granted them a slight elevation and thus a more defendable position. The scribe chewed his lip thoughtfully, before giving a nod of determination and raised a hand to garner his guildsmen's attention.

"Alright, here's the play," he said, keeping his voice low as well, "Sousuke, armor up and walk out there. Do what you can to make it look like you're trying to get a fix on them. Tahlkora, support him and heal up any injuries he takes."

"Hai, senpai," the Zaishen nodded.

"Melonni, Jin," Kydar said and he pointed one wand towards one of the large windmill pumps, "See if you can open the valves to that pool."

"But the pool won't flood if the water doesn't flow!" Melonni whispered urgently.

"I don't need it to flow," Kydar claimed, "I need it as ammo for Ani. Anicara, once Sousuke has their attention move up to that mess of pipes over there. When I give you the signal, I want the biggest explosion of ice you can give me."

"Yessir," the younger elementalist nodded as she flexed her fingers around her staff.

"While they're doing that," he said, turning to his remaining two soldiers, "Anorah and Apprentice, you two take that platform to the other side of the work floor. Flank that position and break their formation. Once I give Ani the signal though, you're going to want to be as far away from that pool as you can get."

"Understood," Anorah nodded, her hood bobbing with the movement.

"Might I inquire as to what part you will play in all of this?" the Apprentice asked casually.

"Me?" Kydar arched an eyebrow, "I'll be giving cover fire. Now move!"

Sousuke stomped as plates of stone snapped together to form his armor. The earth elementalist strode out from behind cover, grunting slightly from impact as a rain of arrows descended upon him immediately. The Zaishen responded with a volley of his own, and hurled several stone daggers that fell short of their intended targets. An arrow struck an exposed section of his thigh and he grunted in pain, though Tahlkora's prayers quickly whisked the injury away. The elementalist contemptuously snapped off the shaft and tossed it away as he stood in the center of the work floor and began to cast his wards.

Jin and Melonni moved quickly, scaling the ladders to the higher platforms and disappearing into the machinery of the large water pumps. A number of gagues, switches and toggles littered the inside of the pump works, all meant for controlling the force of nature that was the Elon River. Melonni grumbled in frustration as she browsed the confusing array of control mechanisms before her and gave a mildly defeated sigh.

"Of course it couldn't have just been one switch," she grumbled.

"Then we flip them all," Jin instructed, "Quickly, we are running out of time."

The roar of falling flames echoed across the workfloor, a sign that Kydar had gone to work. Even from the maintenance platforms Anorah and the Apprentice of Whispers could hear the sounds of battle and the shouts of Kournan archers as they furiously returned fire. The dervish and necromancer crept quickly along the platform, a raised walkway that led past the breached gate and to the other side of the work floor. Anorah paused as she caught sight of the northeastern water lock, and the hulking stone behemoths that stood in the basin. The Droughtlings paid the humans no heed, focused entirely on their master's task of drinking the river dry. Nonetheless, both women were careful as they skirted the lock, and made their way across the workfloor as quickly as possible. The battery of archers had indeed neglected their rear, focused entirely on the offending elementalists who defied their arrows and pelted them with fireballs. Anorah gripped her scythe and muttered a prayer under her breath as she ducked beneath an aqueduct to find better cover amongst the array of pipe works. The Apprentice followed, well aware of the need for stealth as they carefully slunk towards the edge of the overflow pool.

The battery was commanded by a Kournan field marshal, a self important man who was the sort of commander that led his troops from the rear. Thus he had put a good bit of distance between himself and the archers, shouting furiously at them as they continually failed to bring down their enemies. Beneath the pipes, the dervish's fingers flexed around her snathe as she began to slip from cover. A hand caught her shoulder, and Anorah cast golden eyes back to stare curiously into the milky whites of the Apprentice. The necromancer only grinned wickedly, and raised a finger to her lips in a request for silence. Anorah blinked curiously at the other woman, but lowered her weapon as the Apprentice slipped past her.

The high heels of the necromancer's thigh-high boots made surprisingly little noise against the dry basin of the overflow pool. Thus the cowardly field marshal never saw his attacker, until it was far too late. A leather clad hand clamped over his mouth and twisted his head to one side. The man reached for his sword, just as another arm wrapped around his torso and jabbed a sharp pain into his side. The field marshal's eyes widened as the ceremonial bone knife slid between his ribs and tore into his lung. The hand over his mouth stifled his labored screams and the roar of falling fire drowned out his muffled cries. Eyes wide with panic, the field marshal looked up to see a nightmare looming over him. A woman with eyes as cold as the grave leaned over him, and opened her mouth wide. With a sickening pop her jaw unhinged and a look of malevolent glee entered her eyes as she fell upon him with a throaty, and hungry purr of delight. Her teeth locked around his trachea and filed canines penetrated his flesh, piercing deep into the skin until they ruptured his jugular. Bloody froth erupted between the woman's fingers as the man gurgled in his death throes, and the necromancer drank deeply from his torn throat. The field marshal's struggles weakened as the Vampire Bite stole his life away, and the rapid beating of his frightened heart only fed the terrible thirst of his voracious killer.

Anorah watched. The dervish had seen many terrible things as a servant of the war-god, but now her features were contorted in an expression of unmitigated horror. Even as the Apprentice drank from the dead man she scrambled backwards, dragging her meal with her to the cover of the pipe works. Anorah stumbled backwards, nearly dropping her scythe in her attempt to place as much distance as possible between herself and the feeding necromancer. The Apprentice continued to drink, her pale eyes laced with throbbing red veins as she fed on the last vestiges of life in the field marshal's corpse. Finally, with a deep and grateful gasp, the woman tore her mouth from his throat, her face a mess of thick, viscious crimson. Anorah stared, a mixture of terror, confusion and… something else, playing over her features. The Apprentice quickly cleaned her self, wiping stray streams of blood from her cheeks and chin with gloved fingers, before sucking the liquid from her digits. As if noticing her companion for the first time, the Apprentice looked up and gave a surprised giggle at the dervish's expression and rolled her tongue slowly over her dark green lips.

"Mnn… I do love a forty-year-old Kournan vintage," the Apprentice crooned, "Not as sweet as a thirteen-year Shing Jea, but certainly bolder."

With the tip of her boot the necromancer turned the corpse's chin to one side, causing a rivulet of leftovers to bubble out of the neck wound. The Apprentice leaned forward to gather the blood on her fingers and then raised her crimson covered hand in admiration. Her gaze turned to Anorah, who's expression had changed little throughout the display, and watched as the other woman swallowed audibly. The necromancer laughed lightly and stepped over the dead body as she slowly sauntered towards the paralyzed dervish.

"Adept Basilisk, I knew you were quite special from the moment I met you," the necromancer purred, "We share a bit of a secret, you and I."

"S-Stay back witch!" Anorah hissed, though still she could not find the strength in her limbs to move or even lift her weapon.

"Why do you do this to yourself Anorah?" the Apprentice asked, concern spreading over her beautiful face, "Why deny what you are? There is not only pleasure in this, there is power as well. Power that you desire… power you need."

"I have warned you once!" Anorah gasped, as the other woman drew closer, "I will not…"

"Do not fear it Anorah," the Apprentice crooned, as she stood before the trembling Zaishen, "It is part of you, it is you. Tell me, truthfully, that you do not want this."

The necromancer leaned over the dervish, as she lifted the blood covered fingers up to the dervish's nose. Anorah's eyes widened further still, before clamping tight in denial of the scent that assaulted her nostrils. She had spilled blood many times in service to the Zaishen, and in service to the guild. Only once had she lost her composure, but even then it was duty and devotion that prevented her from craven indulgence. But now, as the gift was presented to her as an offering of pleasure and power… she felt her iron forged will begin to weaken. Her free hand darted to her belt pack, but the Apprentice was faster and caught the dervish's wrist. With surprising strength the necromancer pinned the slightly shorter woman's wrist to the nearest pipe as she leered joyfully at the struggling Zaishen.

"Embrace it my sweet," she crooned softly, "Be who you are."

A blood soaked index finger drew a line of crimson across the dervish's trembling lips and Anorah's pupils dialated as she gasped deeply. Her heart hammered in her chest as she became acutely aware of the blood, the blood in her own veins, the blood in the Apprentices… and the blood on her lips. Like a hungry babe the dervish lunged forward, capturing the Apprentice's finger between soft lips and cleaning it of blood with a deep groan of delight. The necromancer grinned with wicked triumph as the woman's tongue went to work, rolling gratefully over the digit until there was no more blood to be found. The Apprentice fed Anorah each finger in turn, and the dervish drank deeply as her hooded eyes began to shift from gold to a deep, burnt umber.

With a deep chuckle the necromancer slowly with drew her last digit from the other woman's lips, and giggled as Anorah tried to follow it in vain. Deprived of blood, Anorah was left panting heavily, her chest heaving in the tightness of her corset as her tongue swiped over her lips, savoring the coppery taste of the once living fluids. The dichotomous thump of their hearts rang in her ears, and in a moment it was joined by many more. Many more.

"You hear it yes?" the Apprentice crooned, "Our enemies draw near, and they are numerous indeed. They must be defeated, and the Drought has yet to be destroyed. But you want more blood, don't you?"

Deep orange eyes flickered across the Apprentice's toothy grin. Against all her training, against all devotion, against her flame tempered will… the dervish nodded in confirmation.

"Then kill them," the Apprentice commanded, "Kill them all!"

"Sergent, report!" Major Jeahr demanded.

"Sir! We can't hold them sir!" the sergant panted, "Our men are getting slaughtered out there!"

"We have to hold them off until help arrives sergent!" Jeahr shouted, "How many casualties?"

"Thirty three sir," the sergent replied.

"And the enemy?" Jeahr asked, "Surely we've thinned their ranks as well."

"Well… that's the thing sir," the sergent said nervously, "Our scouts claim there are only eight of them."

The major did not speak, as he felt liquid rage rise in his veins. He rounded furiously upon the sergent and gripped the man by his chestplate and shook him violently.

"You mean to tell me you let a band of eight terrorist kill thirty-three of my men!" he roared.

"We-we did everything we could sir!" he cried out, "But they flanked our archers… and then there was the dervish! I've never seen anything like her sir! Our reinforcements charged and she broke their formation almost singlehanded!"

"Damn Lyssa for a whore!" Jeahr swore as he shoved the man aside, "Get out of my sight you useless sack of pathetic lock scum! If you can't stop eight measly traitors, then I'll do it myself!"

Jeahr turned from the stammering sergent and stormed towards the gate to the primary pumps. Fury coursed through him as he drew his daggers and twirled them expertly between his fingers. These men were an insult to the Kournan military, not even worth the armor they wore. Jeahr had gone up against more enemies on his own, and come out without a scratch. Eight foolish terrorists would be nothing against his blades. This fight would be over before it…

The primary pump gates exploded, as did the walls around them, sending rubble and debris flying in all directions. Death shrieks echoed above the roar of destruction, and blood flew in all directions as did frigid shards of ice. A blast of cold wind bore Jeahr from his feet and flung him across the work floor. The major grunted upon impact and then cried out in pain as several shards of shrapnel crippled his left leg. Blinking through his agony, Jeahr looked up… and gave a gasp of awe.

The gates, and their supporting walls, to the inner works had been replaced by a massive and beautiful structure of ice. The jagged snowflake reached well over fifty feet high, and its spikes spread in all directions. Inside the ice crystal, he could see the bodies of Kournan soldiers, while other corpses hung from the enormous lances that had speared their torsos. Jeahr struggled to his feet as he stared in disbelief, and then shielded his eyes as the snowflake began to crumble. With a deafening roar the mighty crystal broke apart, shattering into a thousand pieces that bounced off of stone and tile as they littered the work floor around him. In the breach a young girl in sunspear robes stood with her eyes closed and her staff planted on the frozen cobblestones at her feet. She breathed out a cloud of frost and opened deep blue eyes as a chuckle from behind her drew her attention.

"When I said 'biggest explosion', I didn't mean to do irreparable damage to the works," someone laughed.

"Well then you should have clarified," the girl quipped with a smile of her own, "I just used all the water that the valves would let me."

"Speaking of which," the other voice, obviously male said, "Jin, did you girls drain the locks for that? Cause that would be bad."

"The locks remain filled," a female voice responded curtly, "The Droughtlings remain occupied."

"Good, good," the male replied, "Alright we're loosing light fast. That demon needs to die, and soon."

"What do we do about him?" a dark skinned young woman asked.

All eyes turned to where she pointed, and Jeahr felt cold fear grip his stomach as the terrorists caught sight of him. Until now he had assumed that the tales of indomitable warriors with unsurpassed strength were merely the excuses of inadequate and defeated soldiers. It was only now, and far too late, that he believed them.

"Leave him to me," a brown hooded dervish spoke as she strode past her comrades.

The last thing Major Jeahr saw was the face of his killer. Her eyes were a curious shade of deep, dark amber, and her gaze was one of cold and calculated focus. The woman raised her scythe over head, and as her lips curled upwards in a cruel smile, the corner of her mouth released a thin rivulet of blood.

Kydar looked upwards, and then to the west. Daylight was fading fast, and dusk was already upon them. As the sun approached the horizon Kydar snapped his fingers to call the guild to attention.

"Alright everyone, good job," he called, "We've done well to make it this far. I know we're all tired and thirsty… but we've got to finish the job we came here to do. This is it people, let's go kill us a demon."

Though several guildsmen were leaning on their weapons, all responded with firm nods of determination. The guildmaster could see the weariness in the eyes of the men and women who followed him. Dehydration had long since set in, and even the Zaishen sagged on their feet. The elementalist wiped sweat from his brow as he turned to the Apprentice, who as always appeared to be none the worse for wear.

"The dam's just up ahead isn't it?" he asked, "How do we get in?"

"The Whispers ought to have procured the keys," the Apprentice mused, "Let us see if they will grant us entrance."

The woman turned and sauntered off, and gracefully climbed the steps that led up and out of the primary water works. The party followed her as the paved floor gave way to rough, living stone that led to a large wooden gate set into the living rock. The Apprentice stood before the gate and tapped her foot impatiently, before giving a sigh and glancing upwards.

"Well!" she demanded.

With nary a scuffle, a red-cloaked figure appeared upon the cliff top that overlooked the gate. It stared down at them patiently, obviously waiting for something.

"Are you serious?" the Apprentice sighed, "You know who I am, and you know who we are! This passing of words is pointless!"

Still the red figure said and did nothing. The necromancer woman placed a gloved hand to her toffee colored brow and muttered several curses in numerous dialects. Finally she raised her head and glared at the red cloaked figure atop the cliff.

"Listen to the winds," she spat articulately, "There are secrets in the shadow."

"Pay heed to the water," the red figure replied, "For it speaks with the sound of whispers."

As the agent spoke, the door gave a creak and then a heavy snap before it slowly swung open. A red-swathed agent of Whispers stood in the door way, bowed to them and then quickly made himself scarce. The Apprentice continued to mutter darkly as she strode through the gates and led the guildsmen inside.

The Mahnkelon Dam was a wonder of construction and a testament to the genius of Kournan engineering. Though it appeared to be a solid construct of poured concrete, the visible section of the dam was only the tip of a much larger edifice. The majority of the dam extended far underground, where it barred the deepest flows of the Elon River and forced it to rise to the surface. Behind the dam, and deep underground, numerous underground pools, ponds and lakes all fed into the massive ducts that spouted water out of the dam's surface. This water was collected in a huge catch basin and then fed into many locks, pumps and tubes before flowing out into the Floodplain and the River Delta beyond. The enormous stone barrier stood as the gate to the source of all flowing waters in Kourna, and had long been held as one of the many wonders of Elona.

Though they stood upon the high wall that surrounded the catch basin, the guild had little time to appreciate the dam, before a powerful roar deafened them. It echoed out of the basin, reverberating with unnatural force and power. Kydar clutched at his ears as the sound made his teeth ache and his eyeballs throb. This time there was no domination, no invasion into their minds, and the voice of the demon rang loud and clear across the dam.

"The hour has come, at last do we meet. Yet your deeds are for naught, for my work is complete! Soon all your world will heed Torment's call. For Abaddon cometh, and Night soon will Fall!"

Blinking against the ache in his skull, Kydar looked up to finally lay eyes upon their tormentor. The catch basin of the Mahnkelon Dam was all but empty, save for unmoving shallows that had collected at the bottom. In the center of the basin, nearly as massive as the Dam itself, stood the mighty demon of stone and earth. The dragon-like head snapped viciously in the air, and its numerous legs propelled it forward. A long tail of unattached stones flicked behind it and its stony hide was coated in a thick layer of black river silt. The demon appeared to have increased in size since they had first faced it at Gandara, and with the Elon under its control it had certainly increased in power.

"The demon lies!" the Apprentice hissed, "Else there would be no water left here at all! We have time left, and we must slay it quickly!"

"Alright everybody, this is it!" Kydar called, the dryness in his throat forcing his voice to crack, "Let's kill this bastard so we can get ourselves a damn drink!"

The elementalist rose to his full height and held his wands out at arms length. His forehead jewel flashed as he slowly began to speak his incantation.

"Do we… do we have a plan?" Anicara called nervously.

"Just one," Kydar said, as he thrust a wand to the sky, "Hit it as hard as you can."

A red glow filled the sky, darkening the hues of gold and purple that already stained the blue vault as the sun began to set. The Drought roared as it moved forward, prepared to strike the humans that stood on the basin wall.

"O burning traveler of the dark beyond!" Kydar rasped forcefully, "Loose thy flame and sunder my foes!"

A burning streak scarred the heavens, leaving a thick plume of black in its wake. Red light filled the basin as a roar of flame descended upon them. Several guildsmen shielded their eyes, though one pale pair remained locked on the projectile. A small smirk of mild admiration crossed the Apprentice's face, as the plantary shard struck with thunderous force.

"Meteor!" Kydar cried as an explosion rocked the basin.

A plume of dirt, chips of stone and a column of fire ascended from the point of impact, and Kydar panted with exhaustion from the cast. Amidst the debris he had seen the Drought fall, forced to the floor by the sheer power behind the blow. A deep rumbling sound echoed out of the smoke, the sound of malevolent, demonic laughter.

"An effort wasted, born of desperation. Behold now the power of true desolation! With the fading of the light, my victory looms. But e're the sun sets, you will all meet your doom!"

The Drought raised its head, and the floating boulders of its tail rattled and grated. Though the air had been still and stifling, new winds began to blow, whipping rapidly and violently over the dam and whistling against the stones of the surrounding cliffs. Kydar felt the winds begin to bite, as grains of earth lashed at his flesh and scored his skin. Melonni pulled her hood over her head as she cried out a warning over the din.

"Sandstorm!" she shrieked.

The Drought roared with triumph as the winds blasted the humans with sand and dust, and the sharp shards of stone bit harshly at their skin. Kydar squinted against the storm and turned his eyes to the Apprentice, who lowered her zipper as she fished her signet ring from her cleavage.

"Follow me!" she called to him, "Your flame will not harm it, do not waste your energy. Stop its casts, for if it calls up another storm we will slashed to ribbons!"

"Just go!" Kydar shouted back, and then waved his wands wildly, "Everyone attack!"

The Apprentice sprinted forward, moving with surprising speed given the height of her heels. The necromancer lept from the wall top, and her leather boots squeaked against the stone as she skid down the curved wall into the basin itself. She landed with splash in ankle deep water as she slid the signet ring onto her finger. The Drought took notice immediately and opened its mouth where a massive boulder had begun to form. Before the demon could fire its projectile a flash of violet tore through its maw, and the boulder exploded between its teeth. The demon reared backwards in pain and the Apprentice looked up to see from whence her salvation had come. Kydar panted heavily, but held his hands up as his fingertips crackled with mesmeric energy. A flash of blue crossed the shallow water of the basin, as Anorah and Melonni surfed forward on a cascade of Anicara's ice spikes. As the dervishes began their assault, Jin and Sousuke opened fire from the wall top, pelting the demon with stone and arrow for all they were worth.

The Drought raised several of its legs, and brought them down in a savage blow that raised dozens of obsidan spikes from the basin floor. The explosion sent Melonni flying, and Tahlkora hoarsely cried out a prayer of healing. The Kournan dervish's momentum however, could not be stopped. Melonni struck the dam wall with bone crushing force, and her scythe spun from her grasp. The woman grit her teeth against pain and shock, before she fell to the ground unconscious. Anorah had fared considerably better, and her scythe blade found a hold on the demon's limb. With a graceful swing of her legs the dervish vaulted herself onto the insect-like leg and scrambled onto the demon's back. The Drought roared as its tail lashed at the offending woman, and Anorah rapidly rolled aside to avoid the life ending blow. A blast of super cooled air struck the appendage, freezing it in place and Anorah quickly followed up on Anicara's spell.

"Winged goddess of light," Anorah prayed as she brandished her scythe, "Empower me with thy Rending Aura!"

The dervish swung and a flash of light followed her blade. The strike smashed through the frozen stone and shattered the demonic energies that held the boulders afloat. The demon released a sound akin to a scream of pain as the appendage was severed and it shook furiously at the loss of its tail. Anorah clung to the demon for dear life as it turned its wrath toward Anicara. The young elementalist's blue eyes widened and she quickly began to summon her armor as the demon began to cast.

Another bolt of violet scored its body as Kydar seized the opportunity to inflict another power spike on the monster. The Drought cried out in anguish and rocked backwards in feigned disorientation as it set its sights on easier prey. Before the pyromancer could interrupt it again, the demon launched a pair of jagged stalagmites from its jaws, aimed at the top of the basin wall. Adept Jin's eyes widened and she dove upon Sousuke, carrying them both off the walltop. The basin wall exploded as the stalagmites impacted, and both Zaishen grunted in pain as they splashed into the shallow water on the basin floor. As the wall crumbled above them, Sousuke quickly wrapped his arms around his fellow Zaishen and pulled her into his chest. The geomancer rolled and held her down beneath him as a cascade of rubble and stone crashed down upon them and pummeled Sousuke into unconsciousness. Tahlkora sloshed her way towards the fallen adepts, and began urgently whispering a prayer as Kydar shouted over the howl of the storm.

"Apprentice!" he cried hoarsely, and then buckled to one knee as a slash of flying sand drew blood across his cheek.

The necromancer paid him no heed and instead continued to murmur over the signet ring on her finger. As she slowly looked up her pale eyes had begun to glow, pouring forth streaks of light that spread outwards as geometric patterns across her cheeks and brow. The Apprentice rose to her full height and then began to levitate, her feet lifting from the shallow water as her chest heaved with a deep breath. Spiraling photons gathered to her eyes as the glow increased… and then was finally released.

A lance of burning light pierced the storm, a beam of purity that struck the demon with earth shaking force. The Drought was forced backwards as the broad beam of light burned away its armor and seared through its hide. The demon screamed, its limbs flailed and its teeth gnashed as the concentrated blast of holy energy tore at the very fabric of its being. Anorah dashed across its broad shoulder and jumped from the demon's back as it stumbled backwards and crashed into the dam. Finally the Apprentice fell to the earth once more as she clamped her eyes shut. She panted heavily and raised her gaze again to inspect her handiwork. The Drought smoked and fumed, much of its rock turned molten and dripping from its body. It struggled to rise, as glassed silt hindered the injured limbs that scraped uselessly against the stone. The demon croaked and hissed in agony, a sound of wrath and pain that could be heard even above the storm. The Apprentice placed a hand against the stone beneath her in an attempt to rise… and paused as the muddy waters moved. Pale eyes widened as she watched the liquid shift about her ankles, and slowly flow back towards the great aqueducts behind her. The demon was weakening.

"Finish it," she hissed to the guildmaster, "Kill it! Now!"

"Ani, curse that thing into the ground!" Kydar demanded, "Anorah! Hit it with everything you've got! Tahlkora, we're gonna need some support!"

"Yes, guildmaster!" the women called in unison.

"Alright big boy," Kydar snarled, "You're going down!"

"May the grasp of darkness embrace thee, and may the hand of Grenth reach out to sunder defenses… and Weaken Armor!" Anicara spat spitefully as she thrust a bloodied hand forward against the green occultic diagram that had formed before her.

A heavy crack further split the Drought's hide, and it stood shakily on its legs, howling against the pain the humans inflicted upon it. Anorah charged forward, heedless of the biting sand that cut deep into her skin and tore at her skirt and hood.

"May devotion be my strength," the dervish roared as she raised her scythe high, "And let beat in me a heart of holy flame!"

A white fire erupted in her chest and raced down her arms to set her scythe ablaze. The weapon burned a track of light through the sand storm and she struck into the exposed, earthen flesh of the demon's leg. With a roar, and a flash of holy fire Anorah severed yet another of the demon's appendages, and the Drought stumbled once more with the loss of its leg. The blow was suddenly returned in kind, as the demon delivered a powerful headbutt to the dervish woman. Anorah flew, and bounced through the water before sliding to a stop. Tahlkora cried out in alarm as she again began to pray with all her might. Even wounded and weakened the demon came onwards, enraged by pain and furious at the mortals that dared strike it so. The remaining casters backpedaled quickly, save for Kydar who stubbornly stood his ground. The elementalist had holstered his wands, and flexed his fingers in his gloves. The demon loomed over him and opened its stony maw, intent upon devouring the foolish scribe and ending his impudence once and for all. Kydar responded by raising his hands, as violet energy coursed through his body and gathered at his finger tips.

"Here's a rhyme for you," the human snarled, "Fall before me, ignorant scourge! And suffer the wrath of an Energy Surge!"

The mesmeric power gathered between his palms, crackling with chaotic energy as Kydar thrust both hands towards the Drought. A thousand searing fingers of purple lightning erupted from the elementalist's grip, launching repeated blasts of rending power that surged through the demon's form. The demon screamed and stumbled as the elementalist became a live wire of chaotic power, and channeled it into a bewildering and deadly storm of energy. Anicara shielded her eyes and even the Apprentice squinted as Kydar's onslaught broke the demon's body. Finally the elementalist gasped as he snapped his hands shut and fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the Drought collapsed. The elementalist's fingers smoked and his gloves smoldered, and Kydar quickly yanked the ruined accessories from his hands. The demon hissed and rasped angrily, but had not the strength to fight. Water flowed past the humans, draining away from the Drought who turned upon them with hateful and malevolent eyes.

"You have broken my form, creatures of slime," it spat viciously, "But I say to you now that vengeance is mine! Now take back this river which you so greatly cherish, and beneath its flood waters may you be crushed and perish!"

With the last of its strength, the demon pushed itself up on its remaining legs and dragged itself to the wall of the Mahnkelon Dam. Kydar's eyes widened as it did so, and he grunted as he struggled to his feet.

"Ani!" he croaked, his voice barely audible above the storm, "Ani stop it!"

The hydromancer struggled as she leaned on her staff, choking as she bled from dozens of slices across her arms, legs and abdomen. Weakly the girl raised her arms, but could not summon the strength to cast. The Drought raised its legs and planted them into the dam, causing the concrete to splinter and crack under the blow. The demon began to pull, roaring with spiteful hatred as it dug at the ancient stone. Kydar stumbled forward, splashing in the water as he fought against the torrent of wind and sand. The Drought achieved a foothold on the dam and raised its head high as it roared above the storm.

"Madness for the Mad God!" it cried.

The demon's body began to glow, as deep purple energies crackled within it. The malignant forces continued to grow and the Apprentice's eyes widened as she understood the demon's intent.

"Get down!" the necromancer screamed.

Even as the words left her lips the energies within the demon collided, and the Drought roared with maddened laughter as it was violently torn apart. Sharpnel flew, and a large shard struck the Apprentice before she could react to her own advice. The woman was knocked off of her feet and splashed into the water as Kydar flung himself over Ani to shield her from the blast. Bits of demonic stone rained about them, and Kydar bit back a grunt as a few sharpened flakes tore through his vest and tunic. As the light of the explosion faded the storm began to die, and soon the sand settled as the sound of babbling water filled the air. Anicara peeked over the pyromancer's shoulder, and slowly breathed a shuddering sigh of relief. Scattered bits of rubble was all that remained of the Drought, and the free flowing of the Elon's waters proved that its power had at last been broken.

"Oh that can't be good…" Tahlkora's raspy squeak alerted them.

Kydar lifted his head to blink at the young monk, and then looked to where she had pointed. Amidst the debris left in the wake of the Drought's destruction, a large crack had been left in the stone of the dam… a crack that had begun to leak. As they watched, the crack began to spread and the leak grew as well, turning from a trickle to a spout in the span of a few heartbeats.

"Grenth's grasp…" Anicara breathed.

"We must… nngh…" the Apprentice grunted, clutching at the long spike of stone embedded in her shoulder, "We must flee! The flood waters will drown us all!"

"We'll never outrun it," Kydar grit his teeth, "Not with most of us wounded."

"I did not come here to be destroyed," the Apprentice growled, as she struggled to her feet.

Kydar paused in thought, hazel eyes flicking rapidly back and forth. A plan formed in his mind, a desperate last ditch effort, but it was their only chance. The scribe forced himself to his feet, ignoring a thousand cuts and lacerations for the second time that day. The sky above had turned a deep purple and shifted slowly to dark navy, as the sun vanished below the horizon. They had met their deadline, but the elementalist was determined to survive the Drought's final act of spite.

"Run," he ordered the Apprentice, "Get everyone moving, out of the basin and into the works. Now!"

For once the necromancer did not argue, nor questioned his motives. Instead she turned to Tahlkora, catching the young monk by her arm and hauling her towards their injured compatriots. Anicara rose to her feet as well and looked up at the dam, as a thunderous groan caused the entire structure to shudder.

"We'll never make it…" she whispered.

"We're not dead yet," Kydar replied, his eyes locked on the failing dam, "And I intend to stay that way. We're going to hold back the river."

"What!" Anicara exclaimed, "Hold back the Elon! Kydar it took a demon to even make the river pause! How are we…"

A peal of thunder cut her off as another mighty crack scored the dam. Mahnkelon groaned as though in pain, as fissures began to creep across its surface. The young hydromancer stared in horror at the dam, until Kydar intervened. His hands slipped to her cheeks and turned her face away from the dam, forcing her to look at him. Despite the blood flowing down his cheek and the grit that clung to his lips and brow, the scribe's hazel eyes bored into her own crystal blues. His gaze was one of steady calm and unwavering resolve, and the girl felt the rising panic in her begin to ebb. The fingers on her cheeks were rough and the skin irregular, but the oddity of the digits was pushed from her mind as he spoke.

"We can do this," he claimed, "And we're going to. If we don't, they don't stand a chance. We don't have to dam it up, just hold it long enough."

"L-long enough for what?" she asked.

"For a miracle," he responded, "Now focus."

Anicara hesitated a moment longer, before giving a soft nod and returning her attention to the dam. Mahnkelon was breaking apart, and new leaks formed between the lattice work of cracks and splits that had crawled across its surface. As water began to spout out of the earthen slab, the girl took a deep breath and summoned her attunement. Behind her the familiar prickle of heat signaled that Kydar had done the same. The girl raised her staff, prepared to summon the frigid blasts at her command… when something slid around her waist. The hydromancer squeaked in surprise as Kydar wrapped an arm around her, pressing a hand to her abdomen as the other caught hold of her shoulder. She blinked and turned her head to question him, before he pointed at the crumbling dam.

"Cast!" he barked hoarsly.

Anicara quickly began to do as bidden, as Kydar's own incantation echoed in her ears.

"From earth am I born," he called, shifting his feet in the soggy sand.

Anicara whispered an incantation before flinging a blast of super cooled air at a large crack on the dam's face. The leak froze into a arch of ice, and she quickly turned her attention to the next fountain.

"By water I am sustained," he cried, as the Elon roared against the dam, demanding to be freed.

The hydromancer threw a spear of ice into a smaller fissure, and then coated a growing geyser with a frosty breath of ice spikes.

"By air I may breathe," Kydar continued, and the winds began to whistle as the water at their feet ran deeper and faster.

Anicara panted in exhaustion, and watched in dismay as one of her frozen barriers burst. A searing blast flew from Kydar's eyes, causing the stone to liqufy and melt into a molten seal.

"And by fire my strength is maintained!" he shouted, as the super heated rock sizzled and cracked, "Get ready!" he shouted.

Anicara nodded, and raised her staff, as spirals of frost gathered to her weapon. The dam shuddered cracked, as the Elon pushed harder and finally through. Yet another explosion rang out through the waterworks as Mahnkelon failed, and the flood waters surged forth. A wall of foam and froth approached and Anicara's eyes widened as Kydar's hold on her tightened.

"Elemental Attunement!" he shouted.

Anicara gasped as a surge of energy poured into her, fueling her with rejuvenating power. A symphony of elemental power coursed through her limbs, and her spell flew from her grasp unbidden.

"M-Maelstrom!" she stammered.

A powerful howl and a crackling chorus silenced the din, and Anicara closed her eyes tight as the water bore down on them. A moment later she opened them, as she realized that they had not been crushed. The hydromancer blinked at a long icicle that had stopped an inch from her nose. The wall of water had been transformed into an iceberg, far larger than the glacier she had formed that morning, and even more massive than the explosion she had used to clear the primary pump gates. The frozen expanse stretched the length of the dam and rose high into the air, even larger than Mahnkelon itself had been. The energy boost of the attunement had done its work well, but they were far from safe.

"We're not done…" Kydar rasped, his voice wavering though his hold remained firm, "It's gonna crack…"

As if on cue a fissure broke across the ice and water began to spout through. In the dry heat of mid-autumn, and with the full might of the Elon pushing behind it, the frozen barrier would not last long. Kydar's fingers moved across his student's shoulder as he drew a glyph upon her skin and then pressed the magic into her with his palm.

"Quick!" he ordered, "Keep casting!"

"But it'll never hold!" Anicara cried, even as she forced a leak to freeze over.

"It'll buy us time…" he said, his voice failing.

"Kydar, nobody's coming!" she protested.

"Keep… casting…" he ordered.

Another energy boost, this one more persistant than the last. An aura of restoration surrounded them, and as bidden Anicara began to cast once more. She could feel her mentor's grip on her failing quickly, yet the surges of extra energy continued. In the back of her mind she began to fear for him, that he would drain himself completely in his attempt to fuel her. But the Elon gave her no quarter, no time for other worries. With a mighty crack it burst through the ice, and Anicara was forced to turn the powerful gyser into a spray of ice. Another surge pounded its way through the iceberg and the hydromancer hoarsely called out an incantation as she fought to keep the waters frozen. But it was to no avail. The iceberg began to crumble, fracture… and finally shattered. In terror and fright Anicara abandoned her casting and instead clutched at Kydar's arms. The hydromancer took a deep breath and shut her eyes tight against the coming surge, as the iceberg broke above them.

The wave of water struck them like a hammer blow, and immediately bore them from their feet. A cascade of white and blue sent them tumbling and turning as the Elon River roared through the breach. Ice floes drifted around them, and large chunks of demonic stone rolled in the currents beneath them. The elementalists were dragged along, bounced off of ice floes and nearly crushed by tumbling boulders. A force of nature long restrained, the Elon showed no mercy as it reclaimed its independence from both demons and men.

As the breath left Anicara's lungs, and she became certain they would be dashed against the stone… something caught them. Four arms wrapped around the elementalists and held them against the current. In a rush of bubbles they began to rise and finally broke the surface in a spray of froth. Anicara coughed and spluttered as she stared up through wet bangs to lay eyes upon the face of their savior. Freed from her form of flesh, Dehjah now floated above the rushing flood waters and held each human in a pair of her arms. Anicara pushed her hair out of her face, and tried to thank the djinn, but could not speak through her too dry throat and tortured lungs. Dehjah, however, seemed to understand the human girl's grateful gaze and gave a nod of acceptance in return. Anicara managed a weak smile, before turning her gaze to take in their surroundings.

The Elon had destroyed the Mahnkelon dam, and proceeded to blow through the basin and the cliffs behind it. The flow had surged through the water works, taking with it many of the pipes and pumps as well. Beyond the sinking ruins of the Mahnkelon waterworks she could see the flood waters rushing out into the river valley, and the fluid surface reflected the stars of the night sky above. Looking down now the river seemed to be placid, yet below its calm surface she could see the deep and powerful currents that washed away the remains of the Drought.

An odd echoing noise caught the girl's attention and she looked up to find many other djinn gathering over the water. Some of them held the guildsmen they had rescued, and the girl couldn't help but give a breathless giggle at how her comrades awkwardly hung in the arms of their saviors. However, the noise came from all the djinn, who lifted their arms to the sky and cheered with joy. The spirits increased in number, as more and more djinn came to celebrate the death of the Drought and the freeing of the river. A small smile crossed Anicara's face as she turned to speak to Kydar. The pyromancer however, was unconscious. The rise and fall of his chest told her he was not dead, but in keeping her well supplies with energy, the scribe had cast himself far beyond his limits. Making a mental note to thank him later, the elementalist raised her eyes to Dehjah and squinted at the water spirit.

"So… it's over right?" she asked breathlessly, "We did it?"

"Yes, young one," the spirit nodded, her eyes lifted in a bright smile, "The Drought is dead, the Thirst has ended and the Elon runs free once more. My sisters and I thank you, and praise you guildsmen. The djinn owe you a debt of gratitude young Nyrin, for this day you have saved us all."

Anicara chuckled and then began to laugh with exhausted relief as she slowly relaxed in the djinn's arms. It had been a long and harrowing day, but once again the guild had triumphed. The elementalist shifted her gaze to Kydar once more, as she chuckled lightly in awe. The scribe had accomplished all that he said he would, and perhaps a little more. They had struck down a horde of evil, pushed a Kournan occupation out of the region, set free a river… and slain a demon. With their accomplishments in mind, the girl felt exhaustion overcome her as well and she slipped slowly off into blissful slumber. In her ears and in her dreams, the exuberant songs of the joyful djinn echoed, as they sang their praises to the starry sky above and all across the mighty river Elon.