Two days before a desperate plan had been set in motion in a large and long forgotten natural cavern: The shadows flickered and a heavily robed and coweled figure stepped forward. The face was hidden in the deep cowl and the voice but a rattling hiss, "I found one who will suffice for your requirements. I trust you have the rest of my payment?"
Antonius gulped and glanced around nervously before fetching a small artifact out of the depths of his own robes. He barely got it clear of the pouch it'd been in when a clawed hand snatched it away from him.
"Excellent," the hissing voice lingered even though the figure had vanished in an instant.
The gate opened once more, an oily slick shine flashing over the ancient masonry and a huge tiefling stepped through. He was tall, had long dark hair and was heavily muscled, his pale complexion almost glowed in the dim light of the hall and his silver eyes flickered with the torchlight.
The twister seemed to pause over the upper portion of the crypt, the raging winds ripping the air out from below ground where they braced themselves against the powerful suction. They had just barely made it to the lower level and as they clung to what stonework they could a particularly powerful gust swept Deekin out past Cimmera, the little kobold's wing membranes catching the wind like a sail.
The roar of the wind prevented Deekin's cry from being heard and Gabriel either didn't notice or didn't care that the kobold was being swept past them and out through the door to the upper level where he would be sucked into the tornado itself. Valen caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and with the swiftness of a predator, reached out and grabbed Deekin's tail before he could be sucked out the door.
Hypatia blinded by the ferocity of the wind felt Valen move and managed to get her shield down so that he could do whatever it was he was doing. She felt him straining to hang on and wrapped her arms around him to give him what added stability she could.
Then it was over and the stillness was so sudden, so complete it was like a physical blow. Deekin dropped to dangle from Valen's grip while the tiefling staggered backward a step or two from being so suddenly released from the pressure of the wind.
"Deekin!" Hypatia gasped, "Are you alright?"
Valen lowered the kobold towards the floor and with a flick of his wrist righted him so that he settled on his feet.
"Deekin bes alright, boss. Though tail a bit sore now. Still not sos bad." He looked back over his shoulder and down at his tail, giving it a bit of a shake as if it still smarted a bit. Then he grinned up at her, "Deekin almost flew, Boss." The little kobold hopped around a bit, flapping his wings.
Still shaken up, Hypatia managed a small smile, "Perhaps you can practice your flying when the weather is a bit more calm then, Deekin. I wouldn't want you getting hurt."
Reaching out to catch Valen's hand Hypatia looked into his eyes, "Thank you."
Feeling a blush tinge the tips of his ears he replied, "You are most welcome, my Lady."
Gabriel, dusting himself off, glanced up and snorted.
It was Cimmera, facing the door that led farther into the crypt that saw the vile mist become visible as it began to pour out from underneath it. The thick, cloying odor that had assaulted them upon their entry into the long forgotten ossuary began to fill the hall once again. "Something is behind that door," she warned them in a low voice.
Valen and Gabriel whirled to face the threat just as the door crashed apart from some massive force on the other side. Instantly a wave of undead poured through the opening. They filled the ossuary, swarming around the marble columns and as they moved through, the bones of those put to rest assembled themselves and stood, taking up what weapons were available to join the horde.
Charging the leading edge of the tsunami of undead, Valen began laying them low with every swing of his massive flail. There wasn't much room for him to maneuver in the small hallway of the ossuary and the animated corpses lacked the self awareness to be intimidated by his presence. He'd no sooner reduce one to dust then two more would fill into the gap, clawing and batting with surprising effectiveness.
Behind and half a level above them the modest receiving room began to fill with undead from the other two ossuary chambers. They were about to be swarmed under by countless undead. Gabriel suddenly stood straighter and held up his left hand, his sword suddenly still as he called upon his god to turn the undead. Around him a half dozen of the undead suddenly turned and fled. He stepped into the space left and viciously hacked at the unending swarm.
Engaged with a good sized swarm of shambling undead herself, Hypatia wove a pattern with Enserric that kept them dancing. "The essence of the undead is so…so vile," the hollow voice of the sword complained even while the magically sharp blade bit deep into the rotting flesh.
So many undead pressed into the ossuary that there was no longer any room to maneuver, forcing everyone to stand where they were, defending themselves from claws, biting and rusted weapons. The stench of the place was rapidly becoming overwhelming.
Suddenly Hypatia raised her weapon over her head, standing firm against the cruel blows from the undead pressing around her and in a ringing voice commanded, "By the Lady of Mysteries I command thee to begone!" Simultaneous with speaking the last word she shoved her shield out before her and a pulse of soft white light emanated out from her devastating any undead it came in contact with. For the space of a few precious moments the room was cleared save for one or two that had been shielded behind the pillars.
Immediately Valen fell back to Hypatia's side while Cimmera darted up the stairs. There Cimmera raised her arms and called upon the Lady Firehair to turn back the upper swarm even as the ossuary began to fill again from the seemingly endless source beyond the far door. The pulse of light that raced out from the High Priestess surpassed even Hypatia's.
"Too many," Hypatia growled. While still looking for a defensible position she noted with quiet pride the huge circular area that her sister had cleared of undead.
"We have to get to high ground if we are to defeat them," Valen guided her up the steps while Deekin and Gabriel brought up the rear. They ran back up the steps into the now roofless receiving room, the swarm of undead renewing itself behind them as they headed for the high ground to make their stand. Up the short flight of steps and back into the debris filled graveyard, they made their way quickly as they could without tripping over bits of slate, wooden beams from some unfortunate's house, tree limbs and other detritus left by the giant twister that had passed by only minutes ago.
From the churned up earth long interred bodies clawed their way up. Behind them the swarm of all manner of undead poured out of the crypt and pursued them. As they fell back, seeking a better place for the battle their trail blossomed with pulses of light and energy radiating out first from Cimmera then, after a pause from Hypatia. As their paths diverged, each cleric paused momentarily to call upon the name of her goddess. Each commanded the mindless things surrounding them to return to an inanimate state. The undead fell by the score to the two clerics, yet still they came in numbers.
Valen spotted a relatively flat spot on the top of a small knoll and ran towards it, almost stumbling when a flash of incandescent rage suffused him. Only his discipline as a warrior and general kept him from turning around and venting the rage, at what he could not say but he controlled it with an iron will and made the crest of the knoll. "We can fight here," He growled and turned to face the horde, battle tense. He surveyed the battlefield, his eyes glowed a deep red and a trickle of blood flowed from a gash; a single strike that had found its way through his formidable defenses.
Cimmera, Deekin and Gabriel scrambled up and swung around to flank him, their weapons ready. All bore ragged wounds in mute testimony to the nearness with which they'd come to being swarmed under. Deekin cast a healing spell on Cimmera, and then turned to Valen. "Ummm…where be boss?"
Cimmera looked up, suddenly frightened, "She was right behind me just a minute ago."
I stepped through the gate. The job sounded easy and I needed some jink. Easy jink. The last job had not gone well. Oh I'd delivered and gotten paid but not enough to get my leg checked by a healer. Stepping on that poisoned spike trap had been unpleasant and the wound was festering. This job would pay well enough to see a cleric. Bloodsuckers, always taking good jink for a few mumbled words but I needed one. I looked over at the sniveling berk and sneered, "Y' got the jink, cutter? Cos I'll carve it outta yer worthless hide if y' don't."
I watched him draw himself up and though he glared arrogantly at me, the stench of fear coming from him ruined the effect. Still he managed to sneer, "You'll get your coin once you've grabbed the priestess's strong-man."
"What do you want done with him?" I glanced around the dark corridor. This weak willed berk was frightened of his own shadow. This job shouldn't take too long at all. He was worried about some woman.
Priestess, mmmm, they could be trouble. Spell casters usually were, but they were physically weak. All I had to do was get through her first barrage of spells and hit her…hard. Probably only take one hit to kill her. I grinned, my sharp canine teeth showing briefly. I liked one strike kills.
"She'll follow him. Keep her busy chasing after him. Once she's safely away kill them both." He turned and glided effeminately down the corridor.
"Killing cost more jink, cutter. I don't kill gratis." I followed along, my steps light. I kept a sharp eye out for traps. I wouldn't get caught by one again.
"Once the ritual is over it won't matter." He waived a hand dismissively.
I scowled. He was far too blasé. That kind of attitude would get a berk killed soon as not. Didn't matter to me though, so long as his coin was good. "You want this little grab to go smoothly you'll be needing to tell me a little bit about the target, and the girl."
He rolled his eyes impatiently but the stench of fear coming off of him was growing stronger. "It'll be several days before they get close enough for you to make the grab. We're amassing an army of undead which might do the job before we need your services.
I scowled at him, "I get the jink either way, berk!"
He laughed, his odor suddenly changing. We stepped into a huge natural cavern and his odor went from that of a frightened rat to just a rat. I didn't like the way this was going. All of my instincts were screaming at me to get out of here but I was committed. I needed the jink, or at the very least a healer. I swore under my breath.
"If I'm going to do this I'll need to know everything you've got about the girl and the strong man." Suddenly knowledge of what I was up against became my only hope. Maybe in what he told me, or let slip about his own plans would provide the edge I needed.
It didn't take long for me to figure out that he had no intention of paying me. He didn't say it outright but as a schemer he was second rate at best. No, from his words and sly glances I got the distinct idea that he rather hoped that the strong man and I would kill each other leaving the girl defenseless and easy prey. He wanted to kill her himself—slowly.
He was more than willing to talk about her, and about anything else. I learned enough about her and this world to know that I was in trouble here. I'd be unwelcome at best; feared, reviled and hunted most likely. My foot was getting worse by the day too. I'd have to move soon or it'd be too late.
A day passed, then another. Just as I had determined that I could wait no longer and would have to take my chances on my own he sought me out, saying it was time.
I followed him up through winding tunnels, some ancient channels cut into the living rock by long forgotten lava flows, some cut by tools. As we travelled we came to an area where the tunnels were cut out of fresh earth, the scent of living things lingering underneath the stench of undead that began to permeate the air. The priest began to stink of fear the closer we got to where I was supposed to grab this strong-man. We stepped out of the dark corridor past some lower undead, their stench filling my nostrils long before we reached them. I curled my lip. These pathetic creatures wouldn't even slow me down. If this was what they had summoned to stand between them and this priestess and her body guard then I might be able to turn things around for myself.
We stepped up into the crèche of a crypt and the stench of undead became almost overpowering. They were filthy abominations that shambled mindlessly around waiting to become fodder for enemy blades. I wrinkled my nose and tried to work the foetid odor out of my nostrils.
We made our way past the ruined door of a small crypt and up onto a battlefield littered with undead. Another priest ran past us gibbering something about a 'godbane' and I began to have serious doubts
My employer must have noticed my hesitation. Without a word he tripped the other as he tried to get to the crypt behind us and ran his sword through him. Then he casually cast the incantation that raised the body of the former priest, sending him to join the undead horde. He turned a cold smile my way, "You'll do what you're told or you'll join him."
I swore, my suspicions confirmed. He laughed and gestured for me to continue towards some of his brethren who were casting battle spells. They were adorned with the same jawless skull on black sun that my 'employer' sported.
Standing only a few yards away from them was a battle priestess casting spells, waiving a glowing red sword above her head that laughed and taunted the priests.
She stood against the mass of undead that surged around her only to be blasted to dust by a command and a gesture by her. She stood, either supremely confident or enraged beyond reason, alone against the punishing spells of the other priests and answered them in kind.
This was the girl? "May the Abyss open up and swallow you all!" I cursed the priest whose lies and betrayal had gotten me into this mess.
He laughed and made a shoo-ing motion with his hand, "Go. Do what we called you here for and we might yet let you live."
With sudden urgency Valen looked out over the swarming horde and after a moment saw the glowing red sword and blue armor that gave away Hypatia's location. She must have turned away from them just moments ago and was charging towards a small group of what looked to be priests of some unknown god. Undoubtedly they were the ones calling up and controlling the undead.
He took a step towards her but realized with a sinking heart that he'd never be able to fight his way to her side in time. There were just too many bodies, all of them undead, between her position and his. He watched her skirt around a cluster of undead, pausing to turn them; surprisingly she stopped to engage something that had resisted her turning. The swarm moved and flowed like a living thing, suddenly a clear path opened between her and her targets. She saw it and with a shocking scream of mixed rage and challenge she charged. It was then that he realized that the rage he'd felt had come from her.
Her challenge had alerted the other clerics and they turned their spells upon her but not before one of the more cowardly ones screamed, "She's got the godbane!" and turned in terror, fleeing.
Valen didn't have any more time to watch or contemplate as the undead engaged them and his focus turned to the battle at hand. The lesser undead had fallen to the turning spells of Cimmera and Hypatia which left only the tougher and more noxious undead to contend with.
Gabriel was in his element, shouting war cries and felling undead left and right. Something about the ferocity with which he smote the undead gave heart to the rest of the party. He was fearless and courageous to the point of being reckless but he cut down swaths of undead. He sustained fearsome wounds seeming not to notice them.
Cimmera, hanging back utterly repulsed by the gruesome sea of desecrated dead healed him when it looked like he needed it. She cast spells but not with the offensive wallop or with quite the same style that Hypatia did. She seemed even more genteel than Hypatia and her spells bore that out.
These things Valen noticed only in glimpses as time seemed to slow down for him. He moved with inhuman speed and strength, striking and moving to the next foe often before the first even registered that it had been cut down. The song of battle rose in his veins and he became hyperaware of every sense, every movement; his own and those around him. He analyzed the battle even as his body moved in attack and defense, thought and motion flowing in perfect synch. With each swing of his massive flail another foe was felled. The few attacks that got through his defense went unnoticed. He was wholly focused upon destroying the threat.
Across the battlefield a fight of a wholly different nature was taking place. Though not fought by mages, this battle would be decided by magic. Of six clerics wearing the jawless skull on a black sunburst, one had fled, two had fallen to Hypatia's spells and the three remaining enemy clerics were busy casting every spell they could think of. Divine flame and raw power fell time and again from the sky onto Hypatia. She refused to cry out, though the spells caused her unbearable agony.
She had already countered with acid and lightening which fell all around her, keeping the undead at bay and sheeting blue-white lightening onto her foes. She cast that odd spell that caused glowing curtains of holy runes to fall from the sky on her enemies and it pained them unbearably. Her rage burned white hot within her and she gave herself over to it. She would destroy them utterly.
Judging by the unholy fury that marked every ridged line of their bodies, the enemy clerics felt the same way about her.
The spells were being cast so fast and furiously that Hypatia had not been able to get close enough to use Enserric on the clerics. She raised the glowing red intelligent sword high as she cast some of her spells and Enserric, understanding what it had meant when the other had misidentified him loosed either hollow sounding "Bwahahaha's" or targeted taunts every time she did. It unnerved them greatly to hear that sword.
Suddenly a shower of good sized meteors fell upon the battlefield crushing a number of the undead and very nearly killing Hypatia. She had to take a minute to heal herself. A minute that the enemy clerics put to good use casting more spells. One of them fell to the final volley of lightening from Hypatia's spell as the sickly green acid rain ebbed away. Two still stood, though scorched and wounded they cast punishing spells.
Suddenly Hypatia began to glow her wounds healing and another scream of challenge issued from her throat. From behind the seething mass of undead the form of Antonius leading another tiefling could be made out. They were moving towards the priests she was battling. The huge bat like wings created an ominous silhouette as he followed Antonius towards the beleaguered priests she had already engaged.
"Change of plan," my employer hissed. I looked at the girl, she was slight but clearly enraged and from the looks of it was a force to be reckoned with. Across the field, a small travelling path and up a little knoll stood another tiefling, mowing down the undead with almost casual effectiveness. I turned to glare at my employer.
He just chuckled, the scent of fear still strong about him but also an oily cockiness that I longed to crush. "Take the girl and lead the warrior away. Kill them both and we might let you live to tell the tale."
I growled deep in my throat, spitting at his feet. Then with a downsweep of my wings took to the air, relieved to have my weight off my foot. I circled over the girl and thought, fast. Maybe I could still salvage something from this whole fiasco.
"Oh no!" Cimmera's fear filled cry caught everyone's attention. There circling over Hypatia was a tiefling every bit as big as Valen.
"There are too many between us," Gabriel assessed.
Valen glanced up and knowing full well the danger went into a battle frenzy. The sheer number of undead defeated his attempt to get to her side though he made visible progress with every passing second.
I flew high over her for a moment, taking a quick look around to get the lay of the land. Then I folded my wings and dropped towards her, extending them at the last moment to swing my body around and knock her off her feet. I grabbed her smoothly as she fell. It was a power move and it stunned her momentarily. It also gave the other party a warning about my skills. I was a skilled warrior and that power move should give them pause.
Carrying her aloft I looked over to her party, curling my lip in a soundless snarl. My plan was dicey but I was desperate. Now to see exactly what I was up against. A fighter, looked to be one of those cursed, inflexible paladin types judging by the crest he wore. I continued to catalog the group another priestess, a kobold and by the doors of Sigil another blood. Damn.
The blood was mowing down undead with single minded intensity until I grabbed the girl, then I heard his shout of rage rise over the battlefield. Double Damn.
Well there was nothing for it now. She was fighting me and it was hard to stay aloft and keep her under control. I flew on a ballistic arc towards the little group trying to wrest that glowing sword from her before she stabbed me with it, or tore one of the delicate membranes of my wings. I was just over the blood when I got it away from her and dropped it to the ground almost at his feet.
The Blood looked up, his eyes blazing red, his red hair falling back over his green breastplate. His tail lashed angrily and I knew I'd have to persuade the priestess to spare me or he'd kill me for certain.
"Listen," I growled in her ear as she struggled against me. I got no farther as the blood clipped my infected foot with that massive flail of his.
"Aaarugh!" I screamed as the flail slammed into my foot. The shock and pain almost knocked me out of the sky. I almost dropped the pretty. Either one would be a disaster.
I wouldn't have thought he could have made such an extraordinary leap. The move left him open to attacks from the remaining undead and he suffered cruel gashes as he fell back to the ground.
Drawing on what fortitude I had and brutally sublimating the excruciating pain I pumped my wings hard to gain altitude and get out of range of the blood. That little miscalculation had almost cost me my life. I could feel the infection coursing through my blood. Another day or two without a healer and I'd be dead anyway. I needed her to make a deal with me.
I looked down at the blood. There was murder in his eyes. I ignored the ineffective blows of the pretty little priestess while I regained my breath. Then I turned her so I could look into her eyes and crushed her against me, holding her immobile through sheer superior strength.
She was soft and smelled good. I lowered my face to her hair and breathed in her scent. If I could goad the blood into making a mistake my odds would improve. She grabbed a lock of my long hair and pulled it hard. I yelped and shook her, capturing her hand and twisting it behind her back.
"I'm out of spells!" The musical voice of the priestess on the ground rose to my ears, giving testimony to the hurried conversation that was no doubt being carried out below.
I glanced down and saw that they were finishing off the remaining undead even as they spoke in rapid fire sentences to one another. That, almost as much as the presence of the blood told me that these were no green recruits. They were adventurers or mercenaries who knew what they were about.
I glared down into her crystal green eyes and gritted through clenched teeth as I glided on thermals to keep in the air, still rising over her party. "I am given to understand," I gave her a little shake out of sheer temper and frustration, "That you are a cleric of good?"
She glared up at me, blinking away tears, from the wind or from the grip I had her in I didn't know or care. Then she spat, "I know the priesthood of Cyric, all liars and defilers each and every one of them. I'll not be swayed by falsehoods."
I growled and gave her another shake, "There's no love lost between those priests and I either," I snapped in frustration. Then I took a deep breath and angled my wings to start a slow spiral downwards, "I need help and I'm willing to offer my services for it."
"Why should I trust you? This is a trick." She continued to wriggle, even while glaring up at me. I had to shif my grip to keep ahold of her and she almost got loose. She was clever and refused to give up. I was more powerful than her but she kept seeking weaknesses. I growled at her and wrapped my arms around her, keeping her pinned to me through sheer strength.
"Deekin no wants to hit boss," the higher pitched voice of the kobold rose on the wind.
"They certainly betrayed me quickly enough, berk!" I snarled at her, frustrated and desperate.
"What do you want?" She suddenly demanded as if she were in control of the situation.
"Jink!" I barked.
"What?"
From the ground the Blood translated, "Coin, My Lady. He wants to be paid for his work." I noticed him scooping up her sword while still keeping an eye on me. No doubt waiting for me to get close enough for him to strike again.
The pretty little priestess snorted in contempt, "Antonius always was a manipulative liar." Then she glared up into my eyes and demanded, "Tanar'ri or Baatzeu?"
"What?" I was surprised by the question. It indicated a knowledge of the Blood War that I had not expected on this backwards plane.
"Are you Tanar'ri or Baatzeu?" She asked the question with an exaggerated patience that made my blood boil. She was sassy for someone completely at my mercy.
"Tanar'ri," I barked suddenly realizing that she must know what the Blood was and didn't want any infighting. I took heart thinking she might actually be considering my desperate plea for help.
Then she commanded, "Put me down." As if she was some kind of queen. Still, this was my chance and I was in too bad a state not to take it.
My foot throbbed with every beat of my heart. I should have been more careful but I was running out of time. I held the priestess close to me, she was small and smelled good even wounded and burnt by spell fire. To my surprise, I realized she did not stink of fear. She fought me, her puny strength laughable when compared to mine; but she didn't cringe like I was something vile or disgusting. She wanted her freedom and didn't trust me, with good cause but she wasn't horrified.
I had to make a choice and I had to do it now. Take a chance on her and possibly perish by her hand, or more likely; the hand of the other blood down there. Or take a chance on my own, on an unfamiliar plane with no jink, an infected foot and no way home.
Cautiously I settled to the ground, just behind the knoll and turned her to face them, wrapping my arm around her throat. Let them continue to be a front between the undead and myself. I kept her close and watched them as they finished up against the scattered undead that remained. The treacherous berks controlling them had fled upon my defection. Wise move. I'll gut them all when I catch up to them.
Once they were finished with the immediate threat they came, arraying themselves before me in a half circle. The blood, stood in the center, slightly forward still battle tense and waiting for the slightest opening. I could hear a low growl come from his throat. His eyes glowed crimson and he was gripping that flail like he'd like to crush my skull with it and probably could too. Could maybe even take me in a fair fight. Unfortunately it wouldn't be a fair fight. I was weak from the infection. I'd have to be careful.
"We got a deal?" I asked looking the small party over, confirming my previous assessment of them. Another Priestess, just great, a Kobold? And, hells, a paladin? No one stank of arrogance; self-righteousness and metal polish like one of those addle pated berks. He'd kill me as soon as not. Maybe this wasn't my best chance.
"Let her go," The Blood demanded watching me warily.
I released her and she stumbled towards him. "She's wounded pretty badly," I observed. The Blood flinched toward her but held his ground, watching me. The Paladin looked ready to charge. It was up to her now. I was still far enough away to take flight if she betrayed me too but it'd be better if she agreed to the deal.
"He's going to help us." She drew herself up and stood straight, proud; and held her hands out to forestall any attacks . "He said he needed my help and he'd help us in exchange for it."
"And Jink," I added firmly.
She turned slightly to look back over her shoulder at me, "And jink."
Valen watched the other tiefling, noting the nearly imperceptible favoring of the foot he'd struck with his flail and the barely visible shudder of relief that went through him at Hypatia's words. "Are you sure we can trust him, my lady?"
"Are you insane?" Gabriel demanded, outraged. The paladin paused to brush some filth off of his armor. He too was wounded and worried that if this new demon spawn were fresh it might be able to take them in their battle weary and weakened state.
Hypatia turned a cold eye on him, drawing herself painfully up, "He probably saved my life."
Cimmera looked her twin over carefully and shook her head, worry clouding her aqua eyes. "We need to find someplace to rest and recover."
Valen nodded grimly. Hypatia was hurt and badly. Her rage had surprised and worried him. She had charged those other priests without thought for tactics or personal safety. He'd never seen her loose herself in a battle rage like that before.
"There's a farmhouse not far from here," their newest companion offered, trying to make himself useful since they were offering a chance at survival and profit.
Striding up to Hypatia, Valen indicated that the other should lead the way. The other tiefling glared at him, testing him. Valen returned the silent challenge with a hard stare. For long minutes they stared, challenging one another, neither backing down.
Gabriel started forward, his expression apoplectic only to be stopped by Cimmera neatly stepping in front of him. Hypatia, alerted by the clanking of the paladin's armor simply shot a quick glare over her shoulder at him.
The new tiefling flicked a glance at Gabriel and sneered at him. He turned his silver eyes back on Valen and with a barely perceptible nod spoke, "This way." He turned and began to lead them towards the farmhouse he'd seen while aloft.
They made their way across a good size field and through a narrow strip of forest before coming to an old wagon trail. The farmland spread out towards the mountains in gently rolling folds with shallow valleys and low hills. The farmhouse sat far back on a remote hill, crops planted in neat rows around it. The house and nearby barn were both built out of field stone and though they looked well tended, no smoke rose from the chimneys and the fields had no people working in them.
Moving close to Hypatia, Valen spoke in a low, urgent voice. "My lady, perhaps it would be a good idea to tell me what you can see."
Trying not to trip over any of the low lying brambles that rambled across the countryside as she followed the latest addition to their little group the priestess of Mystra spared a glance up at him. "It's not that easy. I can't walk or really do much of anything else when I'm looking."
Valen nodded thinking about it for a minute as he strode along beside her. Then, barely breaking his stride he reached over and scooped her up, holding her close.
"Valen!" came her exasperated protest.
I glanced back to see the blood carrying the pretty little priestess. That set me a little bit more at ease. The entire time I'd been leading them I'd tried not to imagine a blade between my shoulders. I'd have flown to stay out of range but on this backwards plane I could get shot down by anyone with a bow and I was too weak to risk it. No, my fate was in their hands.
Now that the blood had his hands full I only had to worry about the paladin or kobold. The other priestess didn't seem the type to backstab a body. I was glad the prickling sensation between my shoulders went away, although the excruciating pain of my foot was making me sweat. I needed a healing and soon or I might not survive anyway.
Gabriel, pointedly ignoring Cimmera trotted up to protest but hesitated. The bruising he had believed healed on the cleric appeared to be coming back. He'd never seen that happen after a healing. Then Valen spoke again in that low, not meant to carry voice and he frowned. First the way Hypatia had seemed to know about the twister bare moments before it set down and now this seeing?
"What you see might be the difference between life and death, my lady." Valen carried her easily despite the suit of leather armor she wore and the pack she carried.
Just ahead of them the strange tiefling tensed, listening to their quiet conversation. His footsteps slowed for a few paces before he picked up his pace again.
While it was true that what she could tell him of the interloper would be important, it was also true that she was grey with exhaustion. There was a mottling on the side of her head that was becoming increasingly livid right where Gabriel had struck her just days earlier.
Hypatia sighed and nodded. Truth was she was injured and had used up her spells. Casting battle magic took a lot of concentration and focus. So she relaxed in his arms and looked at the big bat-winged tiefling leading them purposefully over the fields towards the farmhouse.
It took her a minute to let go of her worry about being ambushed by more priests of Cyric or undead under their command. A throbbing ache was beginning right behind her eye on the side where Gabriel had struck her and she knew that was only going to get worse but she had to banish such pain if she was to see.
Finally her vision began to change from the vivid green and blues and browns of the world around her into a startling and unexpected one of false colors. Her sight had never worked like this before. Ahead of them she could see an oddly colored image of the bat-winged tiefling moving carefully over the broken earth. She saw emotions swirling around him in a maelstrom of colors and hues. While she watched the chaotic emotions surrounding him she gradually became aware of the illness coursing through his veins. She could actually see the poison from the infection creeping up his leg from his foot.
Her eyes flew wide. Her sight had never, ever shown her things like this about someone before. Now she knew that he had not been deceiving her about needing help. He may well loose that foot and she might not be able to do anything about that. It was perilously close to being too late to save his life.
She shook her head slightly, too amazed by the new addition to her sight to look away. If she hadn't witnessed Valen standing before a foe in battle, unyielding while enduring wounds severe enough to fell a normal man she might not believe this one was still walking. The pain must be incredible and yet he barely even favored the foot as he walked.
The false color landscape shifted to something alien, something harsh and unforgiving. She blinked and looked deep into this new vision. She felt a blood rage fill her and before her a battlefield lay. Screams of the dying, of rage, challenge and horror filled the air along with the odor of blood and guts, sweat and steel. A tidal wave of excitement, anticipation and blood lust filled her. Death would be dealt here and now and whomever this vision was of was elated to be doing the dealing.
She watched as the battle unfolded, a battle much like the one they'd encountered towards the end of their search for the Knower in Cania. Demon fought Devil with mindless ferocity. She never saw whom it was she was getting the vision from but she felt the savageness that ruled him. Of that much she felt sure, the presence was decidedly male and out of his mind with battle rage.
Though she got the distinct impression that the battle lasted for days her vision cut to another odd place, this one a twisted mockery of a citadel. Ramparts rose in jagged edges to claw at the dark sky and inside those who survived the battle turned in their weapons and returned to their cells. Not quite cages, but the truth of what they were could not and had not been disguised. Into these the surviving warriors went, each to their own cold, damp little cell. So whomever she was shadowing also went. She wished she could get a glimpse of him, see who this future person might be and try to understand why he might be important.
He prowled the cell restlessly, the relentless gray of the stones used to construct it unbroken in their monotony save by a few trickles of water that seeped through joints in the high ceiling. She followed along almost as if she were somehow seeing through his eyes. She could feel his agitation, the barely restrained ferocity that vibrated through every muscle and sinew of his body.
Then something happened, the sound of the door at the end of the long hallway opening. This, she got the distinct impression, was unusual. And the scent of a female cut through the damp and mold.
Suddenly the door to the little cell was opened and a woman sneaked in. She stumbled slightly before managing to turn and watch warily. She wasn't quite human, that much Hypatia could tell. What she was precisely she didn't know but even unkempt and with her black hair hanging in lanky mats there was an echo of inhuman beauty about her. Looking closely at her though, there was a defeat about the way she held herself and an empty hopelessness swirled around her in dull grays and washed out blues that wrenched at Hypatia's heart. Though sheltered from the harsh truths of slavery by the temples she'd grown up in, she knew that this woman was nothing more than a reward for the warriors who fought well. It was a horrible thing to reduce a thinking being to.
The man suddenly tensed with interest but Hypatia, wondering if perhaps the in the probability she was seeing the woman was the one they were to help reached an ethereal hand out to her. In that moment her perspective changed and she ceased being able to see the woman. Instead she turned and seemed to be looking at what or rather who the woman was looking at.
Shocked she looked up at the huge tiefling towering over the woman. Blood red hair caught back at the nape of his neck revealed elegantly pointed ears and his pale somewhat bluish skin looked almost ghostly in the dim flickering light of torches in the hallways. A dual shock of recognition and horror rocketed through her as she realized it was Valen! Her breath caught in her throat and her heart stuttered.
This was not the Valen she knew. His face bore a nearly mindless, feral expression and his eyes were not the pale blue she was accustomed to. His eyes were not even the glowing crimson she had witnessed when he battled terrible foes. No, his eyes were black with crimson flecks like the coals of a banked fire.