Dungeons & Dragons Baldur's Gate (Updates Sundays)

Alright, so about the double update.

In the past month or so, things have been a bit crazy, so I ended up spending more time on this side quest than I had originally intended. I could have saved Chapter 14 until next week, but I figured that we would just go ahead and move onto the rest of the story. So as much fun as we've all had with Talos and is crazy split personalities, it's time to say goodbye to this part of the story. Next week, onto Nashkel!
 
Hlaalu Agent said:
@The Original Sixth Chad Kozah vs Virgin Talos?
Click to expand...

Well, they're technically the same entity, just different aspects. It's sort of the difference you might encounter in Old Testament God vs New Testament. While theologically they are indicated to be one and the same, others might notice a shift in tone and belief between the two aspects. In FR, it's treated either as a puppet, a split personality, or a complete shift in personality.
 
Chapter Fifteen

Sarevok stepped into his study of his private chambers and closed the door behind him. The sun had yet to rise, but Sarevok always felt invigorated at that early hour. Back in his bed, Cythandria slept soundly. Sarevok did not care for the woman’s laid back attitude; she was in every description of the word decadent. She ate too much, slept too often, and relied upon the services of those below her. Yet he did not let these faults in Cythandria bother him; she was a tool for him to relieve his stress and for that, she was very well suited. Though she lacked the intelligence and stoic nature that he found charming in Tamoko, she did not question his motives or goals--as Tamoko continuously did.

Sarevok knew that sooner or later he would need to dispose of her. Tamoko would be furious upon her return and Sarevok did not wish to alienate his greatest asset. He had already decided that when Tamoko returned to him with the whelp’s head in a bag, he would put Cythandria at a distance and when things had settled, he would have her taken care of permanently. He would miss her for spirited nature in bed, but then again, he reasoned, she had already gained some weight since she had first been allowed in his bed chambers and he did not think her figure would hold up.

“A pity,” he told himself when he had seated at his desk. His voice lacked any such emotion. Instead he turned his attention to the paperwork that he had put off from last night. There had been an invoice from Ardenor Crush, the hobgoblin leader of Chill. It was a demand for greater compensation for the losses that he had suffered of late; the Flaming Fist had killed almost a quarter of his hobs. Sarevok unceremoniously trashed the letter. The hobgoblin was in no position to bargain with him. Sarevok would need to have Tazok speak with the hob, that would be enough to put him in his place.

Sarevok opened a similar letter from Taurgosz Khosann of the Black Talons. Sarevok held a little more respect for the human leader, who had proven to be the more cunning of the two mercenary bands he had hired to play bandits. The Flaming Fists had been less successful at capturing or killing them and his request for compensation was more fair. Sarevok set it aside. He would have Tazok bargain the man down if he could, but Sarevok would pay it. He still needed them and in the end, he knew that the price was well worth it.

Sarevok then turned to a letter sent by his father. At the sight of the letter, Sarevok grew tense and when he read it, he snorted. The old man was growing worried. There had been reports of sparse conflicts between the Flaming Fist and the Amnian Legionaries. According to him, the Dukes had already approved of sending troops to Beregost under the cover of handling the bandit problem, but in reality the Council wanted to be poised to take Nashkel if blows did come.

Sarevok approved of the strategy; if Baldur’s Gate was to go to war with Amn, then it was best that they choke the Amnians off at the mountain pass, rather than wait for them to reach the southbank of the Chionthar. That would not do for what he had in mind for the war, but Sarevok would deal with such details later and his mercenaries were in the perfect position to handle such an operation. What concerned him was his father’s worry of further escalation. His father insisted that something had to be done to relieve tensions. He had suggested pushing the rumors that the Zhents were behind the plot.

Sarevok could not have that. The matter would need to be handled delicately. Sarevok could not risk his father getting cold feet nor catching onto Sarevok’s true goal. His father was already furious that he had taken time off in the middle of their operations. Sarevok scowled; the time had not been as relaxing as his father had imagined; Sarevok had tried to kill the whelp, but his stepfather had stepped in and foiled him. It had cost the old man his life, but the boy still remained at large. Tamoko had sent a message that she had tracked him down in Beregost.

As if intended by destiny, a tingle came from the small unadorned gold ring on his pinky finger. Sarevok frowned. It was the messenger master ring of the several he had given out to his most trusted servants. Sarevok could sense that it was from Tamoko’s ring. A mixture of hope and reprehension afflicted him. Had she caught him? Had he escaped? Sarevok licked his lips and opened the connection.

Is he dead? He asked through the ring, unable to contain his eagerness.

There was a pause and Sarevok felt his hopes die. He is not. She told him. Sarevok detected a hint of worry from the otherwise stoic Tamoko.

Sarevok felt his anger bubble forward. I gave you a task woman! You have almost fifty men! A child could accomplish this task!

Sarevok felt her shock through the mental link. She quickly recovered. Apologies my love. She responded. I had, at your orders, sent the Black Talons to locate and kill him on the road between Beregost and Nashkel, but all that I sent against him and his company were slain.

It was Sarevok’s turn to be shocked. Slain? How? You said there were but six of them!

Perhaps a score of ours were slain in the attempt, Tamoko reported.

“A SCORE!” Sarevok leapt to his feet. Had Tamoko been before him, he might have strangled her. He felt the priestess recoil from his anger through the connection in their ring. Sarevok mastered his rage and forced himself to sit down.

Explain. Was all he could manage.

He has allied himself with a priestess of some power, Tamoko told him. Survivors reported our men being struck down by bolts of lighting. I personally battled the priestess and had bested her, but aid arrived and I was forced to retreat.

Sarevok felt his anger cool. Of course! He could have laughed. Of course. The boy had not grown in power. It had been an ally. The damn boy must have made contact with another Harper friend of the old codger. He should have guessed such had happened.

Where is he now? He asked.

I cannot locate him at present. Tamoko told him.

Sarevok frowned. Has he found a way to renew the magic that protected him before?

I do not think so. She told him. The storm is not natural. I sense a great power within. I dare not try until it has passed.

Sarevok’s frown deepened. Storm? He had not known of any storm. How long before the storm passes? He asked.

I cannot be sure. It is growing stronger. Angrier.

Sarevok tapped his index finger on the desk. He still had thirty men who could aid Tamoko in finding and slaying the whelp, but already he had taken them away from critical operations. And the loss of a score would undoubtedly cost him more. His father would use that as an excuse to cut down on operations. Sarevok would have to finesse the situation. And if he sent the rest of the men out after the boy, there was no assurance they would come back alive. Losing over two scores of men would do more than damage his operations, it would certainly draw his father’s attention. No, he needed a more subtle way of handling the little bastard.

I have gone about this all wrong. He admitted. A direct attack will cost us too much. Recall the rest of the Talons back to camp. You are to travel to Nashkel. Put out a bounty among our usual associates in Nashkel. That will deal with the matter neatly.

And of his companions? The priestess asked.

Sarevok thought about it. They are of little consequence. He told her. Inform Mulay to keep on guard. I suspect the priestess to be a Harper. The old codger had one last play it seems.

As you wish.

*************


Over the next few days the storm had slowly dissipated and left a bright blue, sunny sky. The company had hoped to leave for Nashkel before then, but Khalid had needed rest to recover from the shock that his body had gone through. Gloom had fallen over the camp. Abdel felt the same gloom; the captain had apparently been possessed by the sword that he had been given by Nibs and it had led to his death. It was just as well they had delayed, because after the storm had finally passed, the mercenaries had gone back to investigate the ruins of the temple.

It was in the ruins of the temple that they found the charred hands of Mister Nib, whose hands still clutched at the small idol of Kozah. Uneasy about the idol, the mercenaries had brought it back to the company in a sack. Ajantis had warned any of them against touching it; he told them that the idol still held great power within it.

“Then let’s toss it away.” Imoen reasoned.

“We cannot do that,” Jaheira said. “Or the same fate that befell your Captain Gallor might befall someone else.”

“Can we smash it then?” Abdel asked. He had pulled Ashideena from his belt.

“Do not!” Ajantis warned. “Evil though it is, it is a great symbol of Kozah, the former aspect of Talos! Destroying it would incur his wrath.”

“Then what do we do with it?” Abdel asked incredulously.

“We have no choice,” Ajantis said. “We will take it with us. I will carry it. When my business is done, I will return to Athkatla with both these items and give them to the priests of my order. They will know what is to be done with them.”

That had been fine with everyone and the company left the next day. The trip to Nashkel was unremarkable, though it had been a slow journey thanks to Khalid. It had taken them three days to travel the distance to Nashkel and during which, Abdel felt a greater discomfort around Jaheira. The more he saw of her and Khalid, the angrier he grew. He had begun to wish that Khalid had died. Worse, Abdel felt as though Ajantis could sense those dark thoughts and often found the paladin staring at him thoughtfully.

Nashkel was not a large town, but it had been fortified by the Amn Legionaries. The town was nestled near a mountain pass. Although the walls were white as any stone fortress, Abdel could tell that they had been made of wood by the damaged areas of whitewash on the walls. The town seemed hard at work to correct that; many workers were on the walls correcting deficiencies.

“I guess it was a hard winter,” he remarked to the others.

“Guess again,” Ajantis said.

Abdel felt a jab of annoyance and was glad when Jaheira answered. “This is not simple weather repair.” She agreed, “Those towers have not been serviced in a decade. They are preparing for an invasion.”

“Invasion?” Abdel asked.

“Tensions are growing between Baldur’s Gate and Amn,” Jaheira told him. “I did not tell any of you, but Baldur’s Gate has already positioned troops within Beregost. They intend to march south and take Nashkel in the event of a war.”

Ajantis nodded. “Shrewd, but the Legion is ahead of them I expect. Amn has moved to obtained the employment of many mercenaries and bounty hunters in the past month. I expect they intend to hold off the attack and press north to the river.”

Abdel recalled what he knew of Baldur’s Gate. “But the city is north of the river. It’ll be difficult to cross.”

“It will cut Baldur’s Gate off from its lands south of the river,” Ajantis told him. “It would be a hard blow to the city’s market. Even if the allied cities of the north were to send an army down to drive Amn back, the damage to the city would last for the whole year.”

“Worse,” Jaheira said. “If they burn the fields and towns between the river and Nashkel. It would take years to restore the lands.”

Ajantis gave a jerked nod. “Yes. That is also possible.”

“And that is why we are here,” Jaheira said to Abdel. “To make sure that doesn’t happen.

“Is that so?” Ajantis asked. “And what can you do? You are but travelers, aren’t you?”

“We have benefactors who tasked us with investigating the iron crises.” Jaheira told him. “Benefactors of whom Lord Ghastkill cannot safely ignore.”

“I would like to know the names of these benefactors or their organization.” Ajantis said.

“So would I.” Abdel grumbled.

“I am afraid I cannot reveal that,” Jaheira said. “Not at this time. We cannot risk our enemy discovering us. Not yet.”

“The Radiant Heart has an interest in seeing to it that no war comes between Amn and Baldur’s Gate,” Ajantis said. He stared accusingly at Jaheira and Abdel noticed that his hand had drifted to his sword handle. “Do these benefactors of whom you serve have different interests?”

“They do not.” Jaheira said and met his stare. “Our interests are aligned.”

Ajantis held the stare for awhile, trying to discern her honesty. Finally he nodded and pulled his hand away from his sword. “It seems that they are. If you are willing, I would like to offer my services as a squire of the Radiant Heart.”

“I accept,” Jaheira said. “These past days have shown me that we need more trustworthy allies and you, above all else, are such a man.”

Abdel thought he saw Ajantis flush. Abdel felt a wave of jealousy. They’re rather friendly, aren’t they? A dark jealous part of him thought. Maybe they did more than track us that day. Abdel shook his head and tried to put the unnerving thought out of his head, but it nagged him. What does it matter? He demanded silently. She’s married! To Khalid! It doesn’t matter. He was surprised however, to find that it very much did matter. For the rest of the morning, it nagged him. When Jaheira and Khalid went to the lord’s manor to speak to him alone, he still had not felt any better.

Imoen however, had other ideas.

“I need some new knives,” she said. “Do we have the coin to buy them?”

“Where did you get the coin to buy those other knives?” Abdel asked, suddenly suspicious.

Imoen flushed. “Oh, well...the merchant in Beregost was such a nice guy, he gave them to me for free.”

“For free?” Ajantis asked skeptically. Abdel noted a deep disappointment in his voice. “That does not sound like any merchant I know.”

Imoen laughed, one that Abdel knew to be forced. She produced one of the knives. “That’s because you’re always scowling Ajantis! You’d be handsome if you cracked a smile. Look, these are brand new! With the iron crises, he figured they weren’t worth much anyway and I made him laugh, so he let me have these few! What? Did you think I stole them?”

Imoen’s laugh turned into a scowl. Ajantis tripped over his words. “Well...the way you had said it...uh, no. No, my apologies. I didn’t...that is…”

Imoen laughed and slapped him on the arm. “Well, at least you aren’t scowling anymore! No hard feelings, yeah?”

Ajantis flushed and fell silent. Imoen looked over to Abdel and winked. Then she said, “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be so lucky this time. I hear Amnians are tight pursed. And I need new knives. What do you say Abdel?”

“We don’t have much in the way of coin and I need a new gambeson,” Abdel said. “And you still need a new sword.”

“Allow me,” Ajantis said, “As an apology for my earlier accusation.”

Imoen gave Abdel a sly smile that Ajantis did not see and then said to him, “Are you sure? They’ll cost a lot.”

“Of course!” Ajantis said, “Though my oath prevents me from retaining personal wealth, I can donate it to a good cause or a temple. Bringing an end to the iron crises is within such purview. Please, I insist.”

“I accept Ajantis!” Imoen said. She looked over to Abdel, “Hey come with us Abdel, it will give us something to do while Jaheira and Khalid are speaking to Lord Ghastkill.”

Reluctantly Abdel agreed. The three looked at the wares of the local blacksmiths. A few sold knives and swords, but Ajantis turned his nose up at their work. “These are not well balanced, nor do they look particularly strong.”

Instead, Ajantis took them to the more specialized bladesmiths. Imoen found a half dozen good throwing knives. Abdel balked at the price, but Ajantis did not seem to notice. “These are much better!” he told them. “We’ll take these goodsir.”

In what Abdel would soon come to learn as typical Amn custom, the two began to haggle over the price, until finally Ajantis purchased them for almost half the price. Imoen was overjoyed with the new knives. Abdel couldn’t help but notice the faint flush in Ajantis’s face. They had been on their way out when Imoen noticed a sword on a rack.

“Wow, that’s a nice sword. I wish mine hadn’t broken.” Imoen said.

As if by cue, Ajantis lifted the sword and tested it. “It is well made,” he noted. “A young woman like you should not be without a sword.”

Imoen flushed and brushed some hair from her face. She gave Ajantis a bright smile. “Oh, but Ajantis. I barely know how to use one. Just ask Abdel, I’m pathetic.”

“I will give you lessons! Both of you!” Ajantis said. When Abdel started to protest, Ajantis said, “You are very competent with a sword Abdel, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. But there are things you could learn. Come, I will buy both of you swords!”

Abdel protested “What? No, I can afford my own…”

Imoen swooned. “Oh Ajantis! How chivalrous of you! Why can’t more men be like you?”

Ajantis’s flush deepened. “It’s...ah, nothing milady.”

“Oh, but it is! Men today are such pigs! Always looking for what they can get without ever giving anything in return! It’s good to see that honest, generous men like you still exist!” Imoen said.

In a short time, Ajantis had not only purchased both of them swords, but at Imoen’s prompting, Ajantis had bought Abdel a new gambeson and mail to go over it. Abdel had tried to protest, but each and every time Imoen would lay on praise so thick, it could have been tree sap. Ajantis ate it up. The squire later bought them lunch and they returned to the manor with full stomachs and new gear.

“There they are!” Ajantis said when he saw Jaheira and Khalid leave the manor. “Let us go see them!”

Abdel grabbed Imoen and held her back. When Ajantis was out of earshot, he said. “What was all that about? We could have paid for our own things!”

Imoen smiled. “What? That second rate junk? C’mon, Abdel, this stuff is so much better!”

“He bought us so much, I expect he’ll buy you a band next!” Abdel warned her.

Imoen screwed up her face. Her voice lacked any of the warmth she had shown Ajantis before. “I hope not. He’s kinda plain looking, don’t you think?”

Abdel stared at her, aghast. “Wait, you didn’t mean any of that?”

Imoen gave him a pout that he did not altogether think was real, “What? No. I mean, it was very chivalrous of him. That doesn’t mean he should expect anything from me, does it?”

Abdel was taken aback, “No but--well, you were so sweet on him!”

Imoen shrugged and her smile returned, but lacked any warmth. “So? We got new swords! And a meal! Stop complaining. C’mon, let’s see what Jaheira has to say.”

Imoen pulled away and shouted. “Wait for me Ajantis! Abdel is being a stick in the mud!”

Ajantis gave a hearty laugh that made Abdel think the squire to be a fool. “It’s okay Abdel! You get used to the mail after a while!”

Abdel muttered under his breath and hastened to catch up. Unfortunately, Jaheira and Khalid did not return with good news. Jaheira’s face was so dark with rage Abdel thought her head might split open. Khalid merely looked defeated.

“What’s wrong?” Abdel asked her.

Jaheira shot him a furious look. “Tymora and Beshaba have conspired against us!”

“What? What do you mean?” Ajantis asked.

“L-Lord Evan G-G-Ghastkill was t-too ill to sp-sp-speak with us,” Khalid explained.

“Evan the Younger,” Jaheira spat, “The boy is arrogant and impulsive. He had no interest in us investigating his mines.”

“What? Why?” Abdel asked.

Ajantis was diplomatic. “There could be many reasons Abdel, the mines are dangerous and he fears he might be liable if we were to get hurt.”

Jaheira snorted. “Cyric’s Truth, no. His father would have granted my request. He fears what we may uncover. I know his kind. Mark my words; he is involved with what goes on in the mines.”

“Then what do we do?” Imoen asked. “If they won’t let us investigate, should we just keep going south?”

“No!” Jaheira said. “There are other avenues we might try. We might speak to one of the companies that work the mines. We may even hire out our services as security for their workers.”

“There is only one company that works the mine,” Ajantis told her, “And it belongs to the Ghastkills.”

“Monopolies,” Jaheira growled.

“Can’t we just sneak in?” Imoen asked.

Ajantis looked aghast. “It’s private property Imoen! We could put ourselves and others in danger.”

“How would we be putting anyone else in danger?” Abdel asked.

“Mines are fragile,” Ajantis told him. “We could cause a cave-in. Or open a pocket full of deadly gas.”

“Well then, what do we do?” Imoen asked. “If there’s nothing we can do, we should keep going south. Away from that maniac that tried to kill us.”

Ajantis frowned. “Maniac? What maniac? What is that about?”

Jaheira shook her head. “We are not leaving. We have come too far to turn away now. I sense there is something more to this than we are seeing. Someone or something wants a war between Baldur’s Gate and Amn.”

“I sense that too,” Ajantis said. He looked to Imoen, “Difficult as it is, Helm would not forgive us if we turn our back on this.”

“You two are the Harpers?”

The company turned to see a middle aged servant woman. She had white running streaks in her black hair. Her face was badly weathered. The servant woman was taken aback, but she stepped forward. There was a rolled parchment in her hand. “You two are the Harpers, yes? My lady commanded me to bring this to you.”

Jaheira was as stiff as a tree. “Yes. Thank you.”

She took the rolled parchment and dismissed the woman. She unrolled the parchment and examined it. Still angry, she said, “This is from Lady Cara Ghastkill, mother of Evan the Younger.”

“What does it say?” Abdel asked.

“It advises us to speak to Mayor Berron Ghastkill,” she said.

“Mayor Berron, of course!” Ajantis said. At Abdel and Imoen’s blank looks, he explained, “Mayor Berron is known to me. He was a ranger in his younger days and rescued many from the local goblin tribes that haunt the area. If anyone could help us, it would be him!”

“What is a Harper?” Imoen asked.

“Never you mind. Let us go speak to Berron. We do not have much time.” Jaheira snapped. She rolled the parchment up and stowed it away. She turned and started to walk away.

She had not taken a few steps when Ajantis said, “Not another step Harper.”

Jaheira turned to face the squire. “You have something to say, squire?”

Ajantis was stoic. “I understand you now Jaheira. You cannot lead these two into danger without them knowing whom you serve.”

Jaheira was quiet for a time. She looked to Imoen, then Abdel. Finally, she said. “It is true. We are Harpers.”

“The Harpers? I’ve never heard of them,” Abdel said.

“They are an old, ancient order that wishes to impose the belief of elven ways upon the world,” Ajantis said bluntly.

Jaheira glared at Ajantis. “That is not true! Our order promotes a balance between civilization and nature. We protect art and history, as well as the good within all societies.”

“All true,” Ajantis said. “Though your kind has also undermined kings, nobles, and empires in your time. You brought chaos to order in the pursuit of your ideals.”

Jaheira was unmoved. “Kings and nobles can be corrupted and turned against their people. The Harpers are the last defense for the people to protect them from despots and tyrants.”

“Harpers have been linked to attacks against the Radiant Heart in the past,” Ajantis said. “Do you deny this?”

“I do!” Jaheira said. “Though the Radiant Heart could learn to be more generous and

open to the people it claims to serve.”

“Enough!” Abdel said. The two turned to him. “I don’t know anything about the Harpers or what they do, but I trust that Jaheira would not lead me wrong. She has saved our lives more than once since we’ve met her. And she stayed with us when our other companions abandoned us. That’s good enough for me.”

Ajantis flushed. “I do not mean to question her heart or honor,” he said. “I only wished that she had been forward about whom she serves. If we are all to put our lives at risk, then we should all know what is happening.”

Imoen piped in, “That’s fair. And Jaheira, you haven’t been telling us everything. Abdel sees it too. He doesn’t say anything, but he sees it. We’re not kids anymore. If you want us to trust you, then you have to start telling us the truth.”

“They h-h-have s-s-stood by us,” Khalid said quietly.

Jaheira did not speak. Finally, she took a deep breath and said. “Very well. You two have proven to be trustworthy companions...Gorion would have been proud. Yes, Khalid and I serve the Harpers. We were sent here to investigate the iron crises. Our leaders fear that there is a greater power behind it. Rumors lay that at the feet of the Zhentarim.”

“The Zhentarim?” Imoen asked.

Ajantis spoke. “The Zhentarim are a network of mercenaries rumored to have been created by a powerful archwizard, but was eventually drawn under the control of Bane and now Cyric, the Black Sun. This would be to his advantage…I had heard surch rumors too.”

“It is possible,” Jaheira said, “And I am here to learn if they are behind this.”

Ajantis nodded. “In spite of my misgivings of your secret order Jaheira, I will stand by you. Amn cannot go to war with Baldur’s Gate.”

Jaheira nodded. She looked to Abdel and Imoen. “Our investigation may take time and I believe you two to be in very real danger. If you wish to continue south, I would understand.”

“No, we’re going with you.” Abdel said.

A smile came to Jaheira’s lips, but they lasted for only a moment. She grew somber again. “Then I will speak with Mayor Berron. Khalid will join me. You may come if you wish.”

Together the company traveled to the mayor’s house. The mayor was a rough-looking man with dark skin like Khalid and Jaheira, with dark black hair and brown eyes. Despite the finery of his clothes, Abdel got the impression that he would have been more comfortable in common attire. At his waist he wore a sword.

“Ah, I was beginning to think that you might not have listened to Cara.” Mayor Berron said.

“She told you we were coming?” Jaheira said.

Mayor Berron nodded. “You’re not the first to speak to Evan the Younger. Not more than a day or so ago, a short fella and a wizard tried to gain access to the mines. He sent them packing too.”

Abdel felt his chest tighten.”Did you help them?”

Mayor Berron laughed. “I should think not! Lady Cara did not trust them as she did you two. No, last I know they had gone to the circus and that was the last we saw of them.”

“They would not have given up that easily.” Jaheira said. “I expect they realized you were watching them.”

The mayor shrugged. “Perhaps, but I have more important matters to attend to. Evan the Younger will not be the only one punished if we do not get a hold on the matter. We already have rumors that Baldur’s Gate is planning an assault upon Nashkel. We’ve seen increased troop numbers within Beregost. Their mayor assures me that he knows of no plan...an honorable man, but I cannot trust the Dukes.”

Abdel noticed a thin smile on Jaheira’s lips. She stood forward. “We must get into the mines. It is imperative that we learn the cause of the iron crisis.”

“Well, you made it difficult for me by going to Evan first,” Mayor Berron said. “Were he to learn of us even speaking, I expect he would have me in chains, but I will speak to the captain of the guard. They protect the mine and that falls under my purview.”

“Then we will start immediately.” Jaheira said.

Mayor Berron held up a hand. “Please wait. I can’t have you going from here to the mines. Evan is a fool, but he has spies. If you were to leave here and go directly to the mines, I have no doubt he would learn of it. I will send word to the captain. He will send someone to fetch you tomorrow.”

Jaheira’s face showed she did not like the answer, but she said, “I understand. But no longer, I beg you. I feel that with every day, Baldur’s Gate and Amn are one step closer to war.”

“Well, what do we do in the meantime?” Abdel asked.

Imoen looked at him and smiled, “Well, there is a circus in town.”

Abdel laughed, then he realized she was serious. “You can’t be serious.”

Jaheira answered instead. “I think...that is a great idea. I would like to see this circus.”

Abdel looked to Imoen. He saw a strange glint in her eyes. It was one he did not like. He shrugged. “Uh, okay.”

Ajantis too seemed to take to the idea. “It’s decided then! We will enjoy the evening at the circus! Helm honors duty, but a man cannot carry such a burden without festivities to lighten his load.”

They were going to the circus.
 
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The Original Sixth said:
Well, they're technically the same entity, just different aspects. It's sort of the difference you might encounter in Old Testament God vs New Testament. While theologically they are indicated to be one and the same, others might notice a shift in tone and belief between the two aspects. In FR, it's treated either as a puppet, a split personality, or a complete shift in personality.
Click to expand...

I know that Kozah and Talos are the same guy, except different. I was just calling one the chad aspect and the other the virgin aspect. At least it isn't 4e where Talos became an aspect himself.
 
Chapter Sixteen

That evening, the company left the walled safety of Nashkel to travel to the circus that had set up east of the small fortress town. Abdel had never been to a circus before. He was shocked by the sheer amount of color and activity. Entertainers juggled, performed sleight of hand, and told wild tales. There was even a wizard among the troop who went by the name of the Great Gazib. He had performed an amazing show with the help of all things; an ogre.

The ogre, named the Amazing Oopah, would be conjured forward by the wizard and then vanish in a flash of fire and smoke. “That ladies and gentlemen!” the Great Gazib declared, “Is the Amazing Oopah! The world’s only exploding ogre!”

It wasn’t long into their visit at the circus that Jaheira and Khalid split away from the group. “We would like to enjoy the carnival among ourselves as husband and wife,” she explained to them.

Abdel felt like a hammer had slammed into his stomach, but he had kept his face straight. The remaining three went around looking at the other attractions and buying up the many strange foods and sweets that the traveling circus had brought from all across Faerun. Despite the festivities, Abdel couldn’t help but keep an eye out for Jaheira and Khalid. Even after two hours of wandering around, he hadn’t seen them once. He thought again to the term she had used and shuddered. His stomach was knotted the rest of the evening.

As if Abdel wasn’t miserable enough, Imoen and Ajantis seemed to quickly become a pair in their own right. Abdel half suspected that Imoen was only using him to get free things, for Ajantis was quick to open his purse for anything that Imoen gave even a passing eye to. More than once, Abdel found himself holding back a sarcastic remark. At times he just wanted to punch the squire.

Abdel didn’t feel anything like romance towards Imoen, who felt more like a sister to him, but he didn’t like how close she and Ajantis were getting. Twice he had tried to get Imoen alone long enough to ask what she was doing, but both times Ajantis had found them too soon. After that, Abdel tried to ignore the whole thing, but found that he couldn’t.

Finally, after a third hour with the pair, Abdel felt like a third leg and ditched the two. He wandered around the circus for only a bit longer, thinking that Jaheira and Khalid must have instead gone to the Nashkel Inn back in town. Abdel felt himself flush and tried to get the two out of his head. He saw a tree between two tents and thought it looked like a good place to sit and think. He rounded the first tent and stopped dead in his tracks.

Pressed against the trunk of the large tree, Abdel saw Khalid and Jaheira. Jaheira was pinned against the tree, while Khalid nuzzled against her neck and chest. Abdel heard Jaheira give a sharp groan. He saw her clutch Khalid’s back with grasping hands. Then she…

He couldn’t watch anymore. Couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He only turned and ran, knocking aside anyone who got in his way.



******************



Jaheira grunted as Khalid’s full weight pressed her against the tree. The hot warm bile from his mouth had spilled all across her leather buff coat. She clutched at her shaking husband as he emptied the bowls of his stomach all across her front. When he had expended himself, she clutched his back and threw him to the ground, cursing. She gave him a hard kick to the gut for good measure.

“Ass! Always drinking!” she cursed.

Jaheira left her husband laying on the ground beside the tree and left for somewhere she could clean herself of the worst of the bile. Things had not gone as well as she had hoped. Upon hearing from the mayor that Montaron had last been seen at the carnival, Jaheira had guessed that the halfling must have gone there to meet with a contact of some sort within the Black Network. She and Khalid had left the others to search for Montaron or anyone who seemed suspicious.

The Lady of Fortune had not been with either of them, but her twin sister had. Khalid had drank something that had not agree with him or most likely had simply drank too much. He had grown less and less focused throughout the afternoon--and too handsy. Now she was covered in his bile.

“I should have asked Ajantis or Abdel to help,” she grumbled to herself. “Even Imoen is preferable to that idiot.”

Jaheira located a barrel of standing water near a stand of trees, not too far outside of the farthest tent. She splashed the water on her coat and tried to clean it off as best she could. She began to wonder if it wasn’t a mistake to have told Abdel everything about Montaron--how he had tried to kill her. Afterall, he had already learned that she was a Harper.

This is different, she admonished herself. Montaron is a cold-blooded killer. If he finds out we survived, he will come for Khalid and myself. And he won’t let Abdel or Imoen get in his way. I have to do this on my own. I...

Something hard and painful struck Jaheira square in the back. She let out a shriek and pitched over into the barrel of water, going face-first into the water. Jaheira thrashed for balance, found the edges of the barrel, and pulled herself up. She coughed up water and her lungs pulled in air.

Before Jaheira could gather her wits about her, a sword penetrated the back of her left leg and erupted out the front. Jaheira screamed and the sword was pulled out. She lost her balance and hit the ground, half-dazed. Over her, she heard a familiar chuckle.

“Sorry to see ya here lass,” she heard Montaron say.

Jaheira looked up and saw Montaron standing over her, his bloodied sword in his hand. He examined the blood and looked down at her. “Stupid pointy eared bitch, thinking you could get the drop on me eh? Well, no one gets the drop on Montaron so easily as--oof!”

With her good leg, Jaheira had sent a quick kick into Montaron’s groin. The halfling doubled over and cursed loudly. Jaheira rolled to her feet and tried to run, but found that she could only hobble on her bad leg. She looked down and saw her leg covered in blood. The sight of it made her dizzy and she thought her lungs might collapse. She coughed and forced herself to concentrate.

Jaheira looked around her. Montarn struggled to get to his feet, but he would be on her soon enough and she could not outrun him. He was between her and the carnival. She couldn’t see anyone within sight of them and far away, she could hear the sounds of the carnival and knew that her screams would amount to nothing. She looked back at her leg. Montaron had struck well; Jaheira knew that he must have hit an artery; she would bleed out soon.

Jaheira grabbed her mistletoe and placed a hand on the blood soaked leg. She whispered a prayer of healing. The mild dizziness that had afflicted her eased, then vanished. Still she bled. Jaheira whispered a second prayer of healing and the bleeding slowed and strength returned to her leg. By then, the halfling had regained his himself and his feet.

“Ya gonna pay for that!” Montaron roared.

Jaheira had no more time for healing. She reached and drew out her scimitar. She parried Montaron’s vicious sword swings. She grimaced at the weight she had to put on her injured leg, but bore it. The two settled into a furious duel for their very lives. Jaheira found Montaron quicker with the sword, but as she had suspected, their skill was equal. Yet everytime Montaron managed to bind or deflect Jaheira, he could not capitalize on his advantage, for Jaheira withdrew out of reach every time. The halfling’s short stature had put him at a grave disadvantage--and the halfling knew it.

That fact alone would have given Jaheira the match, had not her own wounded leg prevented her from capitalizing upon it. She dared not risk the lunges or stances that put too much pressure on the leg and the halfling was wearing her down. She guessed it only a matter of time before she could not withdraw from the halfling’s blade in time to save herself.

Jaheira grasped the mistletoe in her free hand and began to utter the prayer to a spell.

She would disarm the halfling by heating the metal of his sword to--Jaheira broke off the spell and leapt back. Agony shot through her wounded leg and she struggled to keep her balance. Montaron had seen her begin to cast her spell, had slipped past her guard, and had made a mad dash at her. She had barely avoided losing a shin.

“Ya ain’t gettin me with that, you pointy eared bitch!” Montaron snarled. He gave her a nasty grin. “I know all of ya tricks pointy-ears. Do ya know mine?”

With a flash of the wrist, Montaron produced a throwing knife. He grinned and hurled the knife at Jaheira. She tried to twist out of the way, but the knife caught her in the lower ribs. The point struck and deflected off a rib. Jaheira shrieked. Montaron rushed her. She fought him off with desperate swings and rapid footwork. When Montaron’s attack had finally been repulsed, Jaheira found herself sweating and struggling to breath.

Montaron chuckled and produced another knife. “Nice footwork pointy ears! Let’s see if ya can do it again…”

***********


Abdel had felt sick. He had ran as far and as fast as his legs could carry him from the carnival. When at last he could run no further, he collapsed on his hands and knees. Tears flowed down his face and he could not stop it. Why? Why did she? How could she?

As much as Abdel had tried to fight it, he had secretly hoped that Jaheira had feelings for him. Had hoped that she might leave Khalid for him. He cursed himself a fool. He’d been stupid. Stupid. So stupid. She was married. How could he think that she wanted him over her own husband?

Because he’s a drunk. A dark, angry part of him answered back. Because he’s a yellow-bellied coward. Because he isn’t a real man.

But then, why is she with him? Another voice answered back. Abdel snarled and shook his head. He didn’t want to think of that. Couldn’t think of that. Murderous rage boiled up and he wished he had drawn his sword and ram the two through then and there. No one had been around, he thought to himself savagely. No one would have seen. No one have heard. No one would have known. They would be dead and their souls mine! And then they...

Abdel shook his head and banished the terrible thoughts. He screamed and released the rage. Instead he sank into despair. Stupid. So stupid. He thought to himself.

“My, my. I would not have expected my quarry to be such a crybaby.”

Abdel jumped. He turned and saw a man in flowing black robes. The wizard was middle aged, had a large nose upon which sat a fat wart. His messy, untrimmed brown hair had turned white in places. He had dark, needle-like brown eyes. In one hand he held a walking staff.

“You were in the Friendly Arm some time ago, were you not?” the man asked.

“Y-yes.” Abdel answered, confused.

“Yesss,” the wizard hissed. “How embarrassing that I, the great Tarnesh, had not finished you there.”

“Who...who are you?” Abdel asked. His heart began to pound. He reached for the sword in its sheath.

The wizard answered in words that were not intelligible, but had an odd sort of familiarity to them. Too late, Abdel recognized the wizard was spellcasting and what he was preparing. Abdel leapt to his feet and drew his sword. Tarnesh pointed a finger on an outstretched hand. Three bolts of crimson light leapt from the finger. Abdel threw up his arms to shield himself.

Hot, burning pain burned into Abdel; the bolts penetrated like they had been fired from a crossbow and burned like hot iron. Two had found their way into his arms and a third had caught him in the left-side of his chest. Abdel screamed in agony. The heat vanished and he was left only with the burning holes.

“Still alive?” Tarnesh gasped. “My, you are a quick one. I almost had your heart with that!”

Abdel snarled and charged at the wizard, intent on beheading him before he could work more magic. The wizard started and quickly began to work another spell. Abdel pumped his leg as hard as he could; a second barrage of missiles could kill him. The wizard began to back away as he performed his spell, to give him every moment that could be spared. Abdel closed.

Suddenly, the wizard stepped forward! Surprised, Abdel quickly adjusted his speed and aimed for where the wizard would be standing. He brought the sword clean through the wizard’s neck. Abdel had a moment of euphoria, but it was cut short when he realized that he had felt no resistance in the blow. Strong as he was, he still should have felt something.

Before him, the wizard’s neck and head remained untouched. It was as if the sword had never touched him, but the image of the wizard soon dissolved into dust and was gone. Behind him stood three grinning Tarnesh. They tossed away their walking sticks. As they spoke, they did so in unison and Abdel could not place the voice, but knew that the wizard was working on his third spell.

Abdel knew he could not allow that. He looked to each of the three, trying to determine which was the real one. The wizard continued to walk backwards, his images parting by about three feet from each other. Abdel cursed and charged. He picked out the middle of the three and drove his sword straight through the wizard. He and the sword passed bodily through the image without the slightest hint of resistance.

Abdel cursed and turned. The other two images were still casting. Abdel could tell that he was running out of time. He picked the one to his left and leapt at him. He swung--and the sword passed through the arms of the wizard with no resistance. The fake image vanished. Abdel grimaced and turned to face Tarnesh--and nearly dropped his sword.

Tarnesh had vanished. Instead he had been replaced by the towering form of the killer who had haunted his dreams and murdered his father before his very eyes. The glowing yellow eyes, the demon-skull helmet, the spiked armor, and the terrifying two-handed sword. The man let out a deep, terrible laugh that cut to the bone. Abdel felt terror take him by the heart.

“Surprised to see me boy?” the killer boomed.

“What? But...how?” Abdel stammered. “How”

The killer chuckled. “How is not important. All that matters is that I am here to take what is mine.”

“Yours?” Abdel echoed. He tried to think, but his mind felt heavy. “What is yours?”

Abdel tried to sort out where he had come from, where had Tarnesh gone? Had the wizard conjured the evil man? Had that been his plan all along? Or was this one of his illusions? Abdel raised his sword, his heart pounding. The killer let out a deep, terrible laugh that stole Abdel’s courage.

The killer laughed and charged. Something in Abdel broke. He dropped his sword and ran. He had not gone more than a dozen paces when hot red pain struck him in the back. Abdel screamed and hit the ground. Like a pinned beast, he reached up to try and grab the three bolts that had struck him in the back.

Abdel heard the terrible laugh behind him. He turned and looked up to see the killer standing over him, sword poised. “No!” Abdel screamed. “No, please! Please don’t hurt me!”

The killer let out a shrill laugh and drove the sword down into Abdel’s chest. Abdel screamed and made one last desperate kick with one of his legs. It had been hopeless; even if the kick managed to hurt the man beneath his plated armor, the sword would still impale him. The sword plunged into Abdel’s chest. Abdel screamed--a scream that was joined by a second scream and the sound of snapping bone.

The pain was--the pain never came. Abdel looked down at the sword that had been driven through him. No blood. No pain. He looked up into the face of his father’s killer and watched as it dissolved right before his eyes. Behind the illusion was the wizard, hobbling on one foot. Abdel saw that his kick had connected and it had shattered the wizard’s shin.

“You bastard!” Tarnesh screamed. “You bastard! My leg! My leg! My leg!”

“You whoreson!” Abdel snarled. He had pieced two and two together. The killer had been a fake; some sort of horrible illusion. Like the fake Tarnesh. “I’m going to kill you.”

The coldness of Abdel’s voice had registered with the wizard. Tarnesh blanched and pointed a finger. He spat out the words for a third missile barrage, but the wizard was too close and Abdel was too fast. Abdel lept, grabbed the wizard’s outstretched finger and jerked it so hard and so fast that he snapped the bone. The wizard’s chant became a high pitched scream.

“Where’s your magic now?” Abdel growled.

The wizard tried to say something. Abdel smashed his teeth in with a hard punch to the face. The wizard went down. Abde lept upon him and punched him. He punched and punched and punched, until he had no more strength left in him. By then, the wizard was already dead. Abdel sat atop the dead man, heaving with exhaustion.

Abdel searched the dead man and found four belt scrolls. In three of them, he found strange writing in a language he had never seen before. He quickly realized it was magical writing by the way his head began to ache when he looked at it. The fourth however, contained a letter. As Abdel read it, he felt his heart leap into his throat.

***********************


Jaheira hit the ground. The third knife had found its mark. Montaron rushed in to attack. Only a surprise kick with her wounded leg saved her and sent Montaron flying backwards. Jaheira rolled to a crouch, clutching both her scimitar and mistletoe. As quickly as she could, she incanted the words to a prayer that would produce a sword of flame--one so hot that it would burn its way through flesh as quickly as any sword.

Jaheira was halfway through when pain exploded in her left hand. She screamed and her prayer was lost. She looked down at her hand and saw a throwing knife had cut pierced her hand and the mistletoe, pinning the two together.

“I told ya, I ain’t gonna be done in by no witchcraft!” Montaron snarled. He had gotten up from the ground. He held his sword in one hand and another throwing dagger in the other.

“Ya ain’t a match for me pointy ears,” Montaron sneered. “I just wanted to make ya squeal while I slowly stick you!”

Jaheira forced herself to her feet. Her breath was labored and she coughed up some blood. Worse, she had begun to see double. She couldn’t hope to defeat Montaron like that. She spat. “Bastard! Khalid will avenge me!”

At that, Montaron laughed. “Khalid? That sod? He’s laying face down in his own vomit and blood!”

Jaheira felt her blood freeze. “What? Liar!”

Montaron cackled. “I put him down before I came after ya! I saw ya two lovebirds some time ago and I been stalking ya since!”

Jaheira tried to reject it. Could Montaron have had time? How else would he have known that Khalid had been drunk? Would he have killed Khalid first instead of going after her? There was a flash of steel and pain erupted in Jaheira’s wounded leg. She screamed and fell to her hands and knees. Montaron had thrown another knife--right into the wound he had given her earlier.

“Shame, last one love.” Montaron said.

Jaheira tried to get up, but her leg would not support her. She knew immediately that she could not defend herself with her scimitar. She felt tears well up. Her hands shook. She looked up at the approaching Montaron and saw the gleam in his eyes.

“I gotta admit,” he told her. I ain’t never been one for soiling a corpse, but I think I’ll leave a surprise for the boy and girl. Something for them to remember ya by.”

Jaheira tossed away her scimitar and stared straight at the ground. “Khalid! Khalid!” she called. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

**************************


Montaron stood over the weeping Jaheira. Her anguish fueled his perverse joy. He’d kill her, splash her seed on her ruined corpse, and then he’d leave some of her blood on Khalid and his sword. When the authorities found the two of them, they’d investigate. Khalid would go to jail, thinking he had violated and killed his wife in some sort of drunk-induced rage. Then Montaron would pick off Abdel and Imoen.

His smile widened when he thought of pulling the same deed with those two. Weren’t they brother and sister or something? He had thought that’s what they were. With those four idiots out of the way, he would be able to continue his investigation into who was really behind the Iron Crises and who had first put the name of the Zhentarim as the culprits behind it. After he found that, the culprits would die a slow, painful death.

Jaheira babbled at his feet. She wasn’t even talking sense anymore; her words were in several different languages. Montaron took a deep breath. He had finally broken the elf bitch. “End of the line pointy ears.

Jaheira continued to babble.

“I’ll be sure to treat ya corpse better in death, than yar husband in life.” Montaron said. He chuckled at his own wit.

Jaheira had stopped babbling.

Montaron poisted the sword over Jaheira’s back. He would drive it through the spine and into the heart. “Ya fell into my hands like a rabbit in a hunter’s trap.”

“No,” Jaheira said loudly. She lifted her head and her eyes pierced his. Her’s was not the face of a broken woman, but one of burning vengeance. “You fell for mine.”

“Wha?” Was the only answer Montaron could manage. Sensing danger, he stepped and drove the sword down into Jaheira--or tried to. Something strong had kept his leg from moving. Looking down, Montaron saw thick roots and took hold of his feet!

“You bitch!” Montaron screamed. He lunged at her wildly with his sword, but she had pulled beyond any reach he could manage.

Montaron tried to yank his feet free, but the roots were too strong. He cursed and thought to chop at the roots that had entangled themselves on his feet, but realized he risked lopping off his own toes. Instead he cut at the roots that extended from the ground, but as soon as he cut one away, another took its place.

That bitch! That whore! Montaron screamed inwardly. She wasn’t crying! She was casting a spell! Damn her! Damn her! I wish I had killed her husband! Then--

“Montaron,”

Montaron looked up. Jaheira had managed to stand. She had pulled the throwing knife from her hand. In her wounded hand she held the bloodied mistletoe. He held it forward and spoke in the strange language of the druids. Montaron yelped and hacked at the roots with complete abandon. He knew what the half-elf would do next. Twice he cut his own foot and lopped off one of his big toes, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop for anything.

Deep thunder boomed. Montaron looked up. Lightning danced across a dark cloud that drifted far overhead. Montaron watched, transfixed as the lightning shot straight for him.

“Well...shit.”

*********


The lightning split the sky. It hit the halfling dead on. Jaheira shielded her eyes. A loud crack followed and Jaheira felt her entire body heat up. Then, the light was gone. She looked up and saw the smoldering corpse of the halfling. The lightning had blasted away his tunic and most of his trousers. His curly hair had gone straight and on end. The grass and roots around him had been burned away.

“It seems that I am the last one standing,” Jaheira told the dead man. She spat on him and went to find her husband.
 
Hey all, bad news.

I won't be able to get the next chapter up today. I spent most of my time off yesterday preparing to move. It's a short move, but it has to be done and that drained the time I had to finish the chapter and today looks to be no better. We're going to shoot for the middle of the week. Wednesday. And I don't think I'll have something for next Sunday. We'll have to see.

If anything changes, I'll let you all know. I would like to thank everyone for their patience.
 
Chapter Seventeen
18 Mirtul, The Year of the Banner

Abdel looked up at the walls of Candlekeep and barred gates. Over the wals, he saw the great keep itself. In the windows, he saw the faint light of candles from many sages who would continue their studies till dawn. One by one, the candle lights winked out. Candlekeep seemed dark and cold. And dead.

“You cannot go back this way, child.” said a familiar voice. “You must go on.”

Abdel startled at the voice. He shuddered when he placed its speaker. He turned and saw him; the shade of Gorion. His form was faint and Abdel imagined he could just make out what lay behind him. Abdel could not make out any particular wound, but felt the presence of a painful, violent death upon the shade.

The shade turned and with a finger, pointed away from the keep. To a great and terrible black forest of twisted trees. Within, Abdel felt there was great danger, but also the hope of survival and possibly more--treasure beyond imagining. Abdel recoiled from the direction his father’s shade had pointed him toward. He descended in a dread, knowing of what was to come. He felt as though he had been through it before. Had dreamed this before. The dream would not end until he saw his father die.

Abdel held in tears as he approached the edge of the woods. Then something new happened; a road appeared to the far right of him. The road snaked into the woods and the trees parted before it. The road was smooth and seemed the obvious path to take. He felt as though the path were meant only for him. He felt it pull at his heart; if he followed the road, he would not have to see the death of his father again. The road would let him forget his hardships and take him away to a safe place beyond the dark and terrible woods. Abdel shifted his foot to change course for the road.

“The road is dangerous.”

Abdel looked up and saw Gorion’s shade beneath one of the trees on the edge of the dark woods. Abdel stopped. The shade beckoned him to follow. Abdel turned again to look at the path. He looked back at the shade of his father and saw that it had begun to fade. Abdel knew by some instinct that to follow the path would be to consign the memory of his father to oblivion.

Abdel wept and turned to follow his father into the darkness of the woods. As he did so, the tug on Abdel’s heart became a hard push. He stumbled, but kept his feet and his direction. Moments before he entered the woods, he thought he saw a dark and terrible shadow figure upon the road. It radiated a malice that made the woods feel welcoming in comparison. After he entered the woods, he heard a terrible and vestigial voice. One that seemed all to familiar, though he could not place it.

“You will learn…”

Abdel did not dare to look back.


************

Abdel had woken with a start. He shuddered in the morning light. The dream had always faded moments after he’d awakened, but that morning he recalled almost every detail. He had watched his father died and though he did not remember the previous times, he knew that it had been many times. Abdel wiped wet tears from his eyes and strangely felt better; his heart lighter and his mood better. For the first time since he had lost his father, he felt as though he had finally come to terms with it.

After the company had gathered together in one of their private rooms the next morning, Abdel had shown them the letter that he had found on the dead wizard who had attacked him. Imoen had gasped and the others were silent, but grim. Ajantis was quick to prove suspicious.

“What have you done to call down a two hundred gold danter bounty?” Ajantis demanded.

“Nothing!” Abdel had protested. “I’ve done nothing!”

Imoen’s face had grown an angry red, “Don’t be an ass Ajantis! Abdel has never done anything wrong! He used to work for the Candlekeep wardens! Abdel wouldn’t break the law!”

“Imoen, you are fair, but young and naive,” Ajantis said cooly. “Young men are faced with many temptations and some give into them. Tell us Abdel! Who is it that you have wronged?”

Jaheira was quick to Abdel’s defense. “He has wrong none that did not deserve it. You have the power to look into men’s hearts. Do you see the stain of sin on him? Abdel is better than most men.”

Ajantis looked upon Abdel. Abdel suddenly felt as if he was stark naked. Did the paladin really possess the power to look into a man’s heart? Abdel suddenly remembered the anger he had shown the drunkard back in Candlekeep. Or the burning desire that he felt towards Jaheira. He suffered the gaze for only several moments before Ajantis looked away.

“I see a darkness in him that has not fully been checked.” Ajantis told Jaheira.

Abdel eye’s found the floor. He felt his face turn red under the gaze of the entire room. No one spoke for a long time. When someone did, it was Jaheira, “All of us carry unchecked darkness Ajantis. Unlike your Order, I do not deceive myself into thinking that no man carries it. The bounty was put forward by one of the companies here in the north. I will go to the mayor and speak to him on Abdel’s behalf. Perhaps he can do something.”

Ajantis’s face went a bit pink, but he did not otherwise show any sign of having heard Jaheira. The druid turned to the others, “Abdel. This town attracts more than its fair share of bounty hunters. I suggest you stay here until the matter is cleared up. This letter was drafted here in Nashkel. Amnian contracts can even call for a life, if a fee is paid to the authorities. So long as we are in Amn’s reach, your life is in danger.”

Abdel crestfallen, nodded. “I’m sorry everyone.” he said. “I don’t know who did this or why.”

“I have my suspicions,” Jaheira said. “I am hopeful that I can put the matter to rest. Khalid, you will come with me.”

Jaheira and Khalid left. Ajantis soon followed. He mumbled how he had some errands of his own to run. That left Abdel and Imoen alone. As soon as Ajantis was out of earshot, Imoen cursed him loudly.

“What an whoreson!” she shrieked. “After everything, he accuses you like that! I can’t believe I thought he was handsome!”

Abdel gave her a weak smile. “I don’t know if I can blame him. He doesn’t really know me all that well Imoen. We’ve known him less than a tenday.”

“That doesn’t give him a right to accuse you of a crime!” Imoen protested. “And saying you’ve got that darkness in you! Who does he think he is? You and I have been through so much! You saved my life! I don’t want to hear him saying those terrible things about you!”

Abdel was touched. “Thanks,” he told her. “But we can’t control what he thinks. If he doesn’t like me...then he doesn’t like me.”

“You still can’t let him say those things about you!” Imoen said. “Jaheira and Khalid know better, but what about other people Abdel? You could be arrested! You might even be killed!”

“Not so loud, the last thing I need is someone hearing you talk about that damn bounty.” Abdel said. He sighed. “I don’t care what these people think of me, to be honest. I haven’t done anything wrong and the gods know that.”

Imoen thought on that. She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. The gods do know you haven’t done anything wrong. They wouldn’t let anything happen to you, would they?”

Abdel gave her a wry smile. “Well, maybe I should give a bit of offering to a few priests, just in case. Couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Imoen snorted. “Abdel, that is such a racket. I don’t give those priests any of my coin. The gods wouldn’t punish innocent people.”

Abdel was not so sure, but he did not say so. Being in a better spirit, Imoen left and returned a short while later with some bread, cheese, and water. The two ate the food greedily. “This is good!” Abdel told her, “How much did this bread cost?”

“Cost?” Imoen asked, surprised.

Abdel shot her a suspicious look. “Yes. How much did it cost, Imoen?”

She gave him a sly smile. “Not much. Don’t worry, you won’t notice any coins missing.”

Abdel gave an exasperated sigh. “Maybe this bounty is for you and not me.”

Imoen snorted. “If it were, it wouldn’t be a measly two hundred gold.”

They laughed and time passed quickly for the two of them. Jaheira and Khalid returned two hours after they had left, but with bad news. “The bounty was approved by Evan the Younger,” she told them. “Therefore, only he may recall it.”

Abdel cursed. “Then what do we do?”

Imoen surprised them all by answering. “We should keep going south then. I bet whoever paid for that bounty won’t expect us to keep moving further south. Ajantis told me that Ajantis is as big as Baldur’s Gate. They’ll never find us there.”

“You would be surprised of who can find you, even in places such as Athkatla or Baldur’s Gate,” Jaheira told her. “Nor would you make it. There is a small fortification in the mountain’s pass. The soldiers there may already have your bounty. They can collect on it as much as anyone. It would not be safe for you. Whoever posted this bounty must have known.”

“Fine!” Imoen said. “Then we’ll go north…”

“The city is still closed,” Abdel said.

“You don’t know that!” Imoen protested. “It’s been almost two tendays, they can’t have kept the city closed for so long!”

“They have,” Jaheira said. “I spoke with the mayor this morning. As far as anyone knows, the city is still closed.”

“I’m trapped,” Abdel said.

“Abdel, we can’t give up!” Imoen said.

Abdel smiled. “I haven’t,” he told her. “But this was his intention all along, don’t you see? I can’t go north, I can’t go south. Nor do I think I will have much success in the east. And the closest ports are beyond my reach, so I can’t go west.”

“He? Who is he?” Imoen asked.

“The armored man,” Abdel said. “Whoever he is, whoever he works for...he wants me dead. Both of us, maybe. That’s why Gorion took me from Candlekeep. That’s why he...he died. And now the armored man is chasing us.”

Abdel stood up. “Which means my only option is remaining hidden until I can escape or turn the tables upon him.”

Jaheira smiled. She had come to the same conclusion. “You have grown Abdel. Yes, it is as you say. This enemy has boxed you in, but he has not yet cornered us.”

“So...what, we’re just going to hide in here until they give up?” Imoen asked.

Abdel shook his head. “No, they’ll find us here sooner or later. We’ll go to the mines with Jaheira and Khalid. That is, if they will still have us.”

“We will.” Jaheira said. “I will not abandon you.”

A short time later, Ajantis returned. He nodded when he heard what they had decided. “If you say so.” he said. He gave Abdel a suspicious look, but did not say anymore.

The company set out shortly thereafter. The day had a dark overcast and Jaheira predicted scattered rainstorms. The company took advantage of the weather to disguise Abdel’s face with a weather cloak and hood. Abdel looked over his shoulder the entire time they were in town and even some time after they had reached the road, paranoid about another attack from a mercenary. He didn’t feel secure until they had left the town behind.

The predicted scattered rain storms came, but the rain was light and the hills blocked most of the wind, though occasional strong gusts battered the party. By the time the party had left the hills and begun to ascend unto the mountain, the rainstorms had passed and the wind had dropped to a gentle breeze. The cool air and moisture felt refreshing to Abdel and he couldn’t help but feel in a good mood.

The quarry had been cut deep into the side of the mountain. A pair of legionnaires stopped the company at the entrance of the quarry, but Jaheir produced a letter from the mayor and they allowed them to pass. The company descended into the quarry, where miners with rough, dirty faces and long beards worked hard to move heavy laden carts to the smelters, who would remove the impurities from the iron. The entire quarry reminded Abdel of an overturned ant’s nest.

The company reached the mine entrance. They were again stopped by legionnaires and again Jaheira presented her letter. The legionnaire who had examined the letter, a sergeant, seemed offended, “Mercenaries? We can handle the situation on our own. What is the mayor thinking?”

“The mayor feels differently,” Jaheira said bluntly. “Now step aside and let us pass.”

The sergeant swelled with anger, “The mayor is not likely to be in charge of this mine anymore! The young lord is not pleased with how he has handled this crises!”

“Would this be the same crises that you insist is under control?” Jaheira said.

“Jaheira…” Imoen moaned.

The sergeant grew angrier. Before he could speak though, Ajantis stepped forward. “Enough with the delay sergeant. I am a squire of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I carry with me the will of Helm. By his good name, let us pass.”

The sergeant’s face went from deep red to a light pink and he all at once became very sweaty. He shoved the letter back into Jaheira’s hands and ordered that the company be allowed entry. The company passed and began to descend. Not far away, Abdel heard Imoen speaking.

“I can’t believe that worked! Why did he let us through?”

Ajantis beamed. “The name of Helm carries great weight milady.”

Abdel snorted. “It is when you threaten guards as the representative of their patron god.”

Ajantis scowled. “I did no such thing!”

“Enough!” Jaheira snapped. “It doesn’t matter. Speak to the miners, we need to find where the source of the attacks is coming from.”

That was easier said than done. Even in the best of times, mining was hard work and the men who worked the stone were a grim lot. In light of the attacks and the crises, the entire air was suffused with tension. Abdel found that most wouldn’t even speak to him and even Imoen found it difficult to pry anything from the miners. All the while, Abdel was conscious of the taskmasters who eyed them.

“You’re here to guard these men, not keep them from work!” one of the less tolerant taskmasters snarled. “Ignore them! We got a quota to meet! Keep working!”

The attempt seemed fruitless until Abdel came across a lone worker. He had seemingly snuck away from his group for a quick swill from his canteen. He smelled strongly of liquor. The man was thinner and older than the others and had thinning hair. When Abdel had asked about the kobolds, the man showed him yellow teeth and let out a laugh.

“Kobolds! Aye, we’ve had them for a long time now,” he told Abdel, “but ain’t never been like this before! It used to be that a miner or two on the second or third level might go missing. Legend has it they would sacrifice those they caught to their lizard god and he would bless them with riches in silver and gold!”

“And now?” Abdel asked.

The old miner took a pull from his canteen. “Nowdays, them kobolds are all over the deeper tunnels! I’ve even seen them up here! Honest! I see them sniffing around where we mine. Others see them too, but those damn legionnaires refuse to take our word for it!”

“Why were they sniffing around the ore you mined?” Abdel asked.

The miner snorted. “Ain’t that obvious? They’re doing something to the iron! Taskmasters have seen them too, but they turn a blind eye. The mine has to turn a profit or we close down, so they pretend not to see.”

“What about the legionnaires?” Abdel asked. “Surely they would stop them?”

The old man took another pull from his canteen. “The foreman pays those blasted legionnaires to do nothing!” he said. “There are hundreds of those blasted critters down there...or so word goes. If he sent them down, they would swarm up here like an angry nest of ants!”

“Hundreds?” Abdel echoed.

“So they say.” the old man said. He took a long pull, then said. “But the real secret the foreman doesn’t want getting out is--”

“YOU!”

Abdel jumped. The old man squeaked and dropped his canteen. They turned to see one of the taskmasters. A large round-stomach man that looked more bouler than man, he snatched the thin miner and hauled him away from Abdel. He gave him a rough shove down the tunnel.

“BACK TO WORK! IF I CATCH YOU SLINKING OFF AGAIN, YOU OTTA A JOB!” he screamed.

The old miner scrambled away, whimpering as he went. The miner turned to Abdel and shoved a thick sausage finger into his chest. “As for you!” he snarled, “If I catch you snooping instead of guarding, I’ll inform the foreman myself!”

Abdel gave the fat taskmaster a hard shove and sent him back several steps. Abdel put a hand to the hilt of his sword and stepped forward, “Touch me again and I’ll gut you like a pig.”

The fat taskmaster was taken aback. Abdel guessed that he was not used to people talking back to him. The taskmaster stood his ground, but Abdel saw there was no fight in his eyes. Abdel could best him, sword or no. In the end, the taskmaster sneered and stomped away. He grumbled to himself as he went.

When the company regrouped to share what they had learned, Abdel found that they had learned very little. Jaheira however, was determined. “If we cannot learn what we need to from the miners, then we will have to go and look for ourselves.”

“They said there are hundreds of kobolds down there!” Imoen protested.

Jaheira snorted, “That I very much doubt! If there were hundreds, they would have overrun these miners long ago. No, I expect that we will face only a raiding party or two. A group small enough that someone has forced or paid them to help.”

“Paid?” Abdel asked. “What are you talking about?”

Jaheira looked impatiently at Abdel. “Think! There is obviously a plot here to undermine the relations between Amn and Baldur’s Gate. A greater force is behind this than just a bothersome tribe of kobolds.”

“Then enough talk,” Ajantis said. “We should descend into the deeper levels and

confront these demons ourselves.”

The company agreed and they descended down deeper into the mines. As they descended, the teams of miners were less and less frequent and were often time guarded by nervous looking legionnaires. The tense grim atmosphere of the earlier tunnels were replaced with a suspense thicker than butter. Abdel felt as though he were being watched at all times--and not by eyes that were always human. Now and again, he thought he saw a small shadow dart just around a corner. Abdel found himself more and more keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Imoen too, was nervous.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Something is following us!” Imoen whispered.

Abdel had felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, but he denied it. “It’s just your imagination.” he told her.

The miners would spare no moment to speak with any of them and the taskmasters were quicker to drive them off, with the assistance of the legionnaires. Jaheira’s letter found no hold on any of them. They were too afraid of being caught by kobolds to give much thought to the consequences of their far-off mayor.

With little hope, the company pressed deeper into the mines. The teams of miners grew ever more sparse and eventually they stopped encountering any of them and could see nor hear any sign of work being done so deep into the mines. Imoen’s nervousness increased with the depth. She had taken to keeping one of her throwing knives out at all times and jumped at even the smallest noises.

Her nervous energy quickly spread to Abdel and Khalid. Both had their swords part way out of their sheaths. Ajantis and Jaheira seemed immune. It was not long until a terrible smell reached their noses. They quickly found the source of the stench; several half-eaten bodies of miners lay in a small cavern that the miners had dug out. The bodies seemed to have been dropped across the cavern almost haphazardly without any sense or reason. Multiple tunnels branched out from the small cavern.

The company drew their weapons and cautiously entered the cavern. They had no sooner reached the center than they heard a shrill horn sound off from one of the tunnels...perhaps all of them. Imoen shrieked and Abdel had to grab hold of her to keep her from running back to the tunnel they had just come from.

“Form a circle!” Jaheira shouted. “Back to back! Hurry!”

The company did as she said. From all around them came the scampering of feet. Abdel kept his eyes on the two tunnels in his view. His heart pounded. From the tunnels came what sounded like the yapping and barking of dogs. Abdel took his eyes off his tunnels for only a moment to check on Imoen. A flash of motion. Abdel turn and saw three creatures erupt from one of the tunnels he had supposed to have watched.

Small reptilian creatures, they wore small brown tunics and leggings, with bright red, yellow, or orange vests. They had heads shaped like dogs, with a pair of horns and long ears on each. They had long tails that reminded Abdel of rats and each carried a spear or what looked to be a crossbow. All carried daggers on their belts. Their eyes blazed red in the darkness.

The kobolds barely passed three feet in height and had limbs as thin as twigs, but they launched their attack with stunning ferocity. One of the three, which held a crossbow, leveled it at Abdel and fired. Only instinct saved Abdel. He had moved his shield in time and the crossbow sank heavily into the wood of his shield. Even as he did, the others lowered their spears and charged.

“Hey! Hey!” Abdel called to the others, but they paid him no heed.

From all around them came attackers. Each came in groups of three. None had the time to spare him any help. The first kobold came at Abdel. He moved to catch the spear on his shield and succeeded. Using his greater size and strength, Abdel dragged the kobold off its feet and then swung at the second kobold, but the second was quick and narrowly avoided the blade.

A rock struck Abdel in the head. He cried out and staggered backwards. Warm blood ran down his temple and over his left eye. The kobold whose spear he had trapped with his shield used the moment to push Abdel further back. Sensing something behind him, Abdel fought the kobold. For a brief moment, Abdel fought to retain his balance.

The second kobold rushed in then and drove its spear into Abdel’s chest. Abdel felt the point of the spear jab into him, but it did little more than force him backwards a step. The mail had caught all but the point and the gambeson had slowed the spear head. Abdel desperately swung at the kobold, but it had retreated from the attack and remained just out of reach and Abdel struggled with the kobold whose spear was still stuck in his shield.

A second rock pelted Abdel then, but fortune aided Abdel. His struggle with the other kobold had caused his head to twist and the rock barely grazed him. The second kobold, thinking the rock had landed true, rushed in with its spear to deliver another blow. Abdel did not see it, but sensed the attack coming.

Abdel roared and using his greater weight, dragged the first kobold into the path of the second. The second kobold yelped, but could not change direction in time. Its spear plunged through the back of its fellow and embedded itself into the shield on the other side.

With a grunt, Abdel raised the shield up, raising both kobolds off the ground. The strain on his arm was heavy, especially as the second squirmed on its end of the spear. Abdel strained his neck and back muscles to hold them as still as he could manage, then drove his sword into the belly of the second kobold, killing it.

A high snarl came from below. Abdel looked down to see the third kobold charging, its dagger drawn. Off-balance as he was, Abdel could not defend himself with his sword. Instead, he released his shield and dropped it and the two kobolds down upon the charging lizard. The kobold let out a shrill squeak as its dead companions fell upon it. It tried to scramble out from beneath them and escape, but Abdel split its skull with his sword, leaving a nasty notch in the sword’s tip.

All around Abdel, the kobold assault had not gone well. Imoen had, more out of nerves than steel, dropped her first attacker with a thrown knife. Ajantis had rushed the second oncomer and had made short work of it. A third had fired off one of its small crossbows and caught Ajantis in the thin place of his armor, in the armpit, before it had fled back into the darkness.

Jaheira and Khalid, having experienced kobold attacks before, had used their shields to withstand the ranged assault and had each slain one of the kobolds before the rest had retreated. Just as quickly as the kobolds had attacked, they retreated. Abdel half turned to his companion behind him, to see if they were hurt and shouted.

The face of a dead miner stared blankly into Abdel. Before Abdel could even think, the zombie struck him square on the back with a fist that felt more like a hammer. Abdel hit the ground and sluggishly rolled to his feet. He turned to raise his shield and remembered that he had dropped it. The zombie stumbled forward.

“Help!” Abdel called. “Help!”

But the entire company had fallen under attack from the dead miners. One had caught Imoen unawares in the back of the head and she had gone down, completely unconscious. Jaheira fended off two zombies, while Khalid frantically held off one. Abdel could not see Ajantis; the blood in his left eye made seeing difficult.

“Back! Back!” Abdel yelled at the zombie.

He swung at the zombie and slashed open its thigh, but the zombie staggered forward as if it had felt nothing. Desperate, Abdel stabbed into its stomach. The zombie lurched forward, trapping the sword and grabbing Abdel’s throat with its cold dry hands. Abdel gagged as the zombie began to squeeze his windpipe. He pounded at the arms with his hands to try and break the hold, but it had no effect.

Abdel could no longer breath and still the zombie squeezed tighter. Terror grabbed Abdel as he realized the thing was going to crush his windpipe. He trashed wildly at the zombie, but despite its lean form, his physical strength and greater weight counted for nothing. Abdel’s arms soon became heavy. Defeat settled into some part of his primitive mind. He looked up in the zombie’s face and saw a brief flicker of emotion; a small upturned grin and a sliver of malice in its otherwise blank eyes. From far away, Abdel heard Ajantis shout.

“Begone foul vermin! In the name of Helm, I command you!”

Then came the harsh, white light.

The zombie twisted its head to face the light. A look of horror crossed its face. It gave a rasp cry and released Abdel. With a speed that Abdel did not believe possible in the corpse, the zombie fled into the nearest tunnel, followed by the other zombies. Two of them did not make it; Jaheira had leapt upon them as they fled, severed their legs, split their skulls, and beheaded them in swift, efficient strokes.

Abdel tried to breath and hacked on the cold, stale air. He struggled to get to his feet. Not far away stood Ajantis. He had held out a round disc, which burned bright with the white light that had terrified the zombies and driven them away. Looking into the light, Abdel felt a chilling sense of power and authority. He almost felt as though a great eye stared down upon him. He shuddered and knew why the foul zombies had fled.

The light flickered and Ajantis fell to his knees. His face was pale and sweaty. The light went out and the cavern was plunged into the dim light of the lanterns once more. Abdel jumped to his feet and raced to Ajantis’s side. “Ajantis! Ajantis!” he cried.

The squire was barely coherent. Between his aimless babble, Abdel managed to make out, “...my side...my side...it hurts...vermin...shot...me…”

Abdel looked and saw it; a small bolt that had managed to penetrate the thin leathers of Ajanti’s armpit, where the plated armor was not present. Abdel turned and called to Jaheira. The druid and her husband had been tending to Imoen. Jaheira had healed her head wound and Khalid was helping her up. Jaheira left them and rushed to Abdel and Ajantis.

“What is it? What has happened to him?” She asked.

“I don’t know!” Abdel answered, “One of their bolts took him in the pit here, but I don’t see any other wounds!”

Jaheira reached in and before Abdel could stop her, tore the bolt out. Ajantis gave a sharp scream and blacked out. Jaheira ignored him and Abdel’s frantic protests. She examined the crossbow bolt. “Poison! Blast!” she cursed.

“Poison?” Abdel repeated. “What do we do?”

Jaheira quickly looked the squire over. “He lost a lot of blood...maybe...yes, there is time!”

Jaheira reached into a pouch on her belt and produced a bud of garlic. She crushed the bud in her hand and rubbed them into Ajantis’s wound. After that, she held her mistletoe over the squire’s head and intoned a spell. Color returned to the paladin’s face, but his breathing was still labored.

Jaheira performed a second spell and the wound in the armpit closed up. Slowly, Ajantis came around. He looked as though he had caught death itself, but rose to his feet regardless. “Thank you...milady.” he said, his words heavy.

“I could not stop the poison,” Jaheira told him. “I have only slowed its progress through your body.”

Ajantis nodded grimly.

“How….how long?” he asked.

Jaheira was grim. “Five hours, no more.”

Ajantis nodded. “And after?”

“You will feel the full effects of the poison,” Jaheira told him. “I can do no more for you, I am sorry.”

Ajantis nodded and got to his feet. “Your apologies are not needed,” he told her. “I am willing to die in the service of Helm, if the Watcher requires it.”

“You can go back,” Abdel told him. “No one would…”

Ajantis shot Abdel a glare so cold, it froze anything else he might have said. “We go on.” he said, defiant.

“Then we must hurry!” Jaheira said. She called the others over. “Listen! Ajantis has been poisoned. I have slowed it, but he will last no more than five hours. We go after those kobolds! Their attack has failed and they will return to their master. We must hurry, before whoever is behind this is able to escape!”

“But Ajantis! You have to-” Imoen protested, but he silenced her with the same glare as he had Abdel.

Abdel remembered his own wound. He started to ask Jaheira if she could heal him, but stopped when he reached up and felt his head. Although there was still blood, the wound had closed. His fingers couldn’t even find where the skin had broken. There wasn’t even a lump from the impact. Abdel felt a strange chill run up his spine and suddenly thought of his father’s shade and the dark woods of his dreams.

The company regrouped and Jaheira quickly picked up the trail of the kobolds and the company chased them deeper into the Nashkel Mines.
 
I would like to deeply apologize for the delay in getting this out. The rental I had thought was a sure thing fell through, so I spent the past couple of weeks mostly unpacking, trying to get clarification (private rentals are a bitch sometimes), and trying to find a new affordable place. I had to secure an extension where I currently live. Stress and anger aside, I have some good options now--apparently this is the time when places are looking for new occupants.

Anyway, I expect us to be back on schedule now. I would like to catch up a bit, but I absolutely can't promise anything.

Although I suppose if I catch the Wuhan or if the pandemic gets any worse, I won't have much else to do.

Stay safe and I hope you enjoyed Chapter Seventeen!
 
No need to apologise for real life troubles, we all had ground under our feet upturned at some point.
 
Chapter Eighteen

Klept cursed and spat. His brilliant trap had failed. Ever since the chief juju’s conversion to follow Mulahey and his god, the White-Skull of the Black Sun, Klept had not known failure. Mulahey had animated the dead human miners and given them to Klept to command. Klept had the brilliant idea to have the zombies play dead. Anytime the humans sent a raiding party into their territory, they would discover the bodies. Each and every time they had not survived the trap. Until that damn, trice-blasted human with the white light!

Klept’s juju had grown since he had converted to Mulahey’s god. His power had grown so great that he had exiled the former chief juju and become the tribe’s new chief juju. Only Mulhay’s juju had ever been greater than his, until that armored man in the white light. Klept sensed that the armored man’s juju was formidable, perhaps greater than his own. Klept had been too surprised by the power to challenge it with his own juju. He feared that he would lose such a confrontation. If the warriors in the tribe saw that he had lost to an outsider, Klept feared that they would doubt his juju.

“There they are!” one of Klept’s juju men proclaimed.

Klept saw them; three of the zombies were in the tunnel ahead of them. They had slowed from their frantic retreat to the typical shamble of a zombie. They appeared no more for the worse for their encounter with the enemy juju man. Despite this, he frowned; five had escaped.

“Where are the other two?” the other juju man asked.

Klept reached the obvious conclusion quicker than the other two, “They must have wandered off. We don’t have time to find them now. The intruders are not far behind.”

One of the juju men raised their symbol; a black wooden disc with the crude image of a skull painted on it, but Klept raised a hand to stop him. The juju man looked at Klept curiously, but said nothing. The enemy juju man had proven himself able to break Klept’s power over the dead. Klept needed to present his own juju. He raised his own holy symbol.

“Halt, in the name of Cyric!” he proclaimed as much to his own juju men as he did to the zombies. Hearing him, the zombies turned. Klept saw the hate in their eyes. The zombies saw the tribe responsible for their deaths. They let out low snarls and grunts. They stumbled forward in a half-run.

Klept stepped forward, ahead of his juju men. He stood, proud and defiant.

“Chief juju! Command them! Quickly!” one of his juju men pleaded.

Klept slowly raised his symbol, but did not issue the command. Conviction was needed to command the great juju. He needed them to see that. More importantly, he needed them to see him holding such convictions. He could not let them be swayed by the human juju man. The zombies closed on him.

“Behold the power of the Black Sun!” Klept boomed. As suddenly as he had spoken, tendrils of darkness spread out from his juju symbol. The zombie’s rage turned to one of deep terror. They shook their heads and tried to cover their ears, but Klept knew they could not resist his juju.

“You are to obey my every command!” Klept told them. “It is the will of the White Skull of the Dark Sun!”

The zombies stopped resisting and bent their heads in subjugation. The anger and rage in their faces had vanished, though Klept knew such anger still boiled beneath the surface. With the zombies secure under his power, the juju men broke out in applause.

“Black Sun is Great Juju! Great Juju!” they proclaimed.

Klept allowed himself only a short tail wag before he changed his mind back to the serious business ahead of them. Klept could not allow the raiders to reach the tribe or Mulahey, but he could not risk his juju being weaker than theirs. Nor did they have the numbers for a frontal attack. Klept’s position as chief juju had been on the promise of low casualties to the chief.

Klept decided that it could not be helped. He would have to rely upon the warrior captains. Until he came up with a way to deal with the enemy juju man, he would have to leave it to the warriors to do what they did best.


*********************



The company pursued the kobolds deep into the mines, Jaheira and Khalid leading the way. The pursuit was difficult; the kobolds had shorter legs, but they were shockingly quick and the tunnels twisted and turned. In some areas, the kobolds had carved out small adjoining tunnels that only they could fit to. Before long, Abdel was hopelessly lost and thought that Jaheira might be too, though if she were she did not show it.

The company and the kobold raiding party met in several short skirmishes that seemed almost random in their occurrence, but followed a typical pattern; one or two kobolds would appear and attack--often with scoring no blow and always failing to score a serious one. More kobolds would attack and the party would repel them, wounding a few, but not managing to bring any of them down.

As the encounters drew on, Abdel began to feel as though they weren’t the ones doing the chasing, but were rather being herded around like a flock of sheep. After a particularly nasty encounter, in which Khalid had taken a nasty spear blow to the leg, Jaheira called off the pursuit. Setting Khalid and Imoen as guards, she took Ajantis and Abdel aside.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Jaheira said. “They are running us around like witless goblins!”

Ajantis nodded. His face was pale and sweaty, but had made no complaint on his condition. Abdel wondered how well he fared against the poison. “They are trying to wear us down. They’re waiting for a mistake. Khalid’s leg blow is proof of that.”

Abdel was not entirely convinced, “No, I don’t agree. If this was a war of attrition, they would be poorly suited for it. They have taken worse wounds than we have. Every one of their people have suffered wounds. In that last attack, I saw less than usual. They are closer to their limits than we are.”

“It is true that kobolds are cowards,” Ajantis said. “Perhaps then, we might prevail. Another encounter might prove to be the tipping point.”

“No,” Jaheira said. “There is more to this. Cowardly they are, but every encounter has involved risk to themselves. Were they simple cowards, they would not have pressed us as hard as they have.”

Ajantis and Jaheira debated the situation a bit longer. Abdel thought on the encounters. Tried to make sense of them. Finally, he arrived at the answer. “They’re stalling us!” he realized. Ajantis and Jaheira turned to him.

Ajantis was quick to grasp it. “Of course!” he said. “They are preparing their defenses! I should have realized!”

Abdel nodded, “Yes, but what good does this do us? We didn’t know where their tribe was before and now we’re lost. Or at least, I don’t know where we are.”

Ajantis shook his head. “Neither do I. I could not find the way out, even if I wanted to.”

The two looked to Jaheira. She shook her head, but remained thoughtful, “I lost track some time ago.”

“Then it’s hopeless,” Abdel said. He felt defeated.

“Do not be so quick to give up hope Abdel!” Ajantis lectured. “We have the power of Helm on our side!”

“You also have me,” Jaheira said. The two looked at her. The worry on her face had been completely replaced with thought.

“What is it?” Abdel asked.

“I do not know where we are,” Jaheira admitted, “but we have been around in circles, fighting these kobolds. Haven’t you two noticed?”

Abdel realized he had. “Yeah, I feel like in those past few encounters, I knew where those little whoresons were going to pop up.”

Jaheira nodded. “I had at first thought their retreat was simply disorderly, but I began to think differently. During that last encounter, I had tried to lead us away from them and break the route they had kept us on.”

“And their attack was the most ferocious we’ve seen since this chase started,” Ajantis said.

“And if they’re stalling, that must mean that must lead toward their tribe.” Abdel concluded.

“Then we try again,” Ajantis said.

Jaheira nodded. “Yes. Let’s hurry. They will be moving to attack us again.”

They gathered Imoen and Khalid and explained the plan to them while Jaheira led them through the mine tunnels. As Jaheira had predicted, the kobold’s next attack came and it was fierce. When they came upon the chamber that they had before, a half dozen kobolds attacked at once from the tunnel that Jaheira had intended them to go through. The kobolds had been prepared for them, but they had not prepared as well as Jaheira had. Leaving Khalid, Ajantis, and Abdel to hold the front, Jaheira hid behind them and worked a spell.

Abdel had not known what to expect from Jaheira; he knew they were too deep for her to call down lightning and he knew the kobolds were too numerous to try heating up their weapons. His first hint of her plan came in the sudden rush of air. He startled, thinking he was under attack. The wind gathered between the company and the attacking kobolds and with it came dirt, dust, and even small pebbles. Abdel gasped as a dust devil formed before his very eyes.

Guided by an unseen intelligence, the dust devil raced at the kobolds. The kobolds yelped and tried to shield their eyes, but they were too slow. The dirt, dust, and pebbles spun around shields and reached their eyes before they could shut their lids. The kobolds yelped and barked at each other in what might have sounded like a language.

Abdel and the rest of the company did not spare that much thought. They rushed the blinded kobolds and brutally cut them down. Not a single kobold that had been blocking their way had survived. Behind them, the rest of the kobold raiding party frantically moved to keep them from advancing.

“Shield your eyes!” Jaheira warned the company.

They all obeyed without question. Abdel felt sand, dirt, and pebbles scratch at his face, but with forewarning, he was safe from getting an eyeful. The dust devil passed by quickly. When Jaheira called out to them again, it was for them to hurry down the tunnel. Abdel looked behind him and saw the dust devil covering their retreat, throwing up dirt to keep away any pursuers.

Jaheira quickly retook the lead and the company hurried through the tunnel behind her. Although it seemed to Abdel that they had lost the kobolds, Jaheira did not slow and did not allow for any rest. Abdel did not question her; he feared too that the kobolds would quickly regroup. They had made it perhaps a quarter mile when ahead, Abdel saw Jaheria trip over something. He heard a loud twang and the druid screamed.

“Jaheira!” Abdel and Khalid each raced to her side.

Abdel shouldered Khalid aside and turned Jaheira over. He gasped. A small bolt had penetrated her armor just below the collar bone. Blood had already soaked the leather and was pooling at the point of impact. Jaheira’s breath was labored and she stared far-off. Ajantis arrived and examined the wound.

“Set her down here...quickly! Yes, like that,” Ajantis instructed him, “The bolt punctured her lung. We will have to move quickly or she’ll drown in her own blood.”

“What do I do?” Abdel asked.

“Pull the bolt out,” Ajantis told him. “Ease it out, as carefully as you can. I can heal the wound, but I need the bolt out. Careful not to lose the head in there.”

“Wh-what s-s-should I do?” Khalid asked.

“Stand there,” Ajantis said. “Your hands shake Khalid. Abdel, what is taking so long?”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Abdel said.

Abdel worked the head of the bolt out of Jaheira and freed it from the leather. Ajantis leaned over. Abdel saw that he had removed his gauntlets. A golden glow encompassed one hand and in the other he held the disc with the symbol of Helm’s eye. He placed his hand upon the wound and uttered a low prayer. The golden glow spread from his hand and into Jaheira’s breast. The glow grew, peaked, and then faded. When it had, Jaheira lay gently breathing.

“J-J-Jaheira?” Khalid ventured.

Jaheira’s eyes refocused and she turned her head to look at her husband. Abdel thought for a moment he saw an expression of contempt cross her face, but she gave him a small smile and rolled to her feet. “Thank you Ajantis.”

“Was i-i-it a k-k-kobold?” Khalid asked.

Jaheira shook her head and directed their attention to the ground. Abdel saw it; a broken piece of thread. “Some kind of trap?” he asked.

“It’s over here.”

They all looked up to see Imoen further down the tunnel. She was examining a hole in the wall when they reached her. “There’s a crossbow on the other side,” she explained. “It must have been rigged to that thread Jaheira tripped over.”

“A trap.” Abdel said.

“I had heard that kobolds protected their lairs with traps,” Ajantis said.

“We should have been more careful,” Abdel said. “We charged in without thinking.”

“W-w-we s-s-should turn back,” Khalid said. “W-w-we c-c-can’t pick our way through all these t-t-traps.”

“We’re not turning back,” Jaheira said. Abdel thought he caught something meaningful in the way she had said that to her husband, but shook his head. He had to be imagining it.

“You know, the thieves guild back at Candlekeep had a few traps like this,” Imoen said.

“There weren’t any thieves in Candlekeep Imoen,” Abdel said.

Imoen smirked. “Oh Abdel, you’re so sweet.”

Abdel smiled, but he wasn’t sure why. “C’mon Imoen, if there were a thieves guild in Candlekeep, I would have known about it. I was in the watch, remember?”

Imoen gave him a raised brow in response. Abdel stared at her. “Imoen...you’re joking, right?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, “Well, it wasn’t a very big guild, admittedly. There were like, six of us.”

Abdel scowled at her, “So this was mostly you and your troublemaker friends.”

Imoen gave a shrug and became very interested in examining the hole again. “Anyway,” she told him. “We used to go down into the crypts in the keep to hide our goods…”

“The crypts!” Abdel gasped. “Imoen! Those crypts are sacred! And haunted!”

Imoen snorted. “Pick one.”

“Imoen, the crypts are dangerous!” Abdel lectured. “You know that! I can’t believe…”

“This is not the time for that,” Jaheira snapped. She stepped between them. She looked Imoen in the eyes, “Imoen, can you find these traps?”

“Yep!” Imoen answered. “Easy! Me and my frie--er, guild members used to practice on some of the traps back in the crypts.”

“Why would monks trap their crypts?” Ajantis asked Abdel.

“The crypts go deep into the earth,” Abdel explained, “Rumor has it there are many ways in and out of the keep through the crypts. So they set the traps to keep would be thieves and intruders out--or in, as the case may be.”

“Then you lead us Imoen,” Jaheira told her.

“Now hold on…” Abdel started.

Imoen held Abdel’s comments with a raised hand. “I can do that. You are all so loud, I’m surprised an army of kobolds hasn’t descended on us yet.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Jaheira told her. “If you see anything or hear…”

“I’ll come running back, don’t you worry.” Imoen said with a grin.

The company resumed their descent, with Imoen far ahead of them, checking for traps. When she came across one, she would either wait for them to catch up and guide them around it or she would use some rocks and pebbles to outline the traps. The company’s progress through the mine slowed and Abdel began to feel anxious; he was certain that the kobolds should have caught them by now. He wondered where they were and when they would attack.

The tunnels the company used slowly changed from the rough works of the miners, to old tunnels that seemed more like an extensive cave system. From there their progression slowed even more, as it became more difficult for Imoen to recognize the traps or how to avoid them. Twice she nearly set the trap off herself and once she did; a rigged lever had dropped a small flask of alchemy fire from the roof of the cave, setting Imoen’s cloak ablaze and taking a few inches off her hair.

That’s when the attack came. From a nearby passage that none of them had even known was there, three kobolds emerged. One lunged forward with a spear, catching Abdel in the chest. His mail prevented the spear from penetrating deep, but the blow took him by surprise and sent him stumbling backwards. A second went for Khalid, but the half-elf held them off with his shield and even managed to wound its left arm. Ajantis frantically fended off the kobold, switching to half-swording to prevent the kobold from taking advantage of the narrow tunnels.

The surprise over, the three warriors quickly drove the three kobolds back into the secret passage they had emerged from. Abdel turned to find Jaheira and Imoen, but saw that five kobolds had overtaken them as well. The two struggled to fend off the kobolds. Both already had several minor wounds and looked exhausted.

“Imoen! Jaheira!” Abdel called. He turned to the other two. “Hurry! They need our--”

Out of an adjoining tunnel emerged three shambling zombies. Around them coiled thin, black miasma. Seeing them, the zombies suddenly charged forward, half-stumbling on their awkward legs. Abdel cried out and managed to receive one on his shield. The weight and force nearly knocked him to his feet. The zombie bounced and hit the ground. Abdel heard some of its bones crack.

As Abdel readied to strike, the second zombie was upon him. Abdel backpedaled and slashed out to ward off the zombie. The zombie, heedless of the blade, charged right into it, nearly tearing the sword from Abdel’s grip and opening up its torso. Guts slipped out of its stomach and seemed to wiggle on their own accord, but the zombie seemed either not to notice or care and pressed its attack against Abdel.

Then the third zombie reached Abdel. He caught it upon his shield and threw it upon the first zombie. The second zombie reached him. Two hands closed around his windpipe. Abdel tried to gasp for air, but it severed only to strengthen the zombie’s hold. Desperate, he drove his word into the zombie’s chest and out its back at the base of the neck.

To Abdel’s astonishment, the zombie’s grip did not seem to weaken. Abdel tried to pull his sword free, but he couldn’t. He bashed its head with his shield, cracking its skull and splattering himself with the zombie’s gray matter. Even with his skull half-flattened, the zombie did not relinquish its hold. Abdel gasped. His vision blurred and he lost control of his shield arm. Dimly he heard it fall to the ground. Not far behind him, Abdel heard a shout.

A brilliant white light illuminated the tunnels. Abdel felt the presence of a great and powerful presence; that of a great protector. The zombie too, felt it and its grip faltered. Abdel fell to the ground, gasping for air. Over him, he saw terror fill the zombie. The great light began to cause small patches of the zombie’s flesh to redden and then blacken. Abdel expected the zombie to turn and flee, but as he watched, black miasma coiled around it.

From within that black miasma, Abdel sensed another great presence. One that struck dread right to his heart. He stared into the black miasma and felt as though he were back with his father, standing before the armored killer. Abdel even imagined he could see the monster’s glowing yellow eyes.

The miasma darkened around the zombies, shielding them from the light of Helm. The miasma grew and coiled at Abdel’s feet. Abdel kicked at it, but his legs passed through it harmlessly. He tried to call out to Ajantis, but he couldn’t find his voice. From behind him came a voice like thunder.

“No darkness can blind the All-Seeing-Eye of Helm!”

The light grew brighter. The miasma around the zombies dissipated, taking with it the terrible presence within. Exposed to the holy light, the zombies’s flesh began to burn once again. The zombies wailed and turned to flee. The first two were gone before Abdel could get to his feet, but the third stumbled almost blindly. With the miasma gone, it seemed to suddenly feel the full damage that Abdel had inflicted to its body. Abdel leapt after it and beheaded the zombie. The zombie kept stumbling, so Abdel took out its legs too, just to be sure.

Remembering Imoen and Jaheira, Abdel turned and found that the kobolds had been driven off with Khalid’s help. Relieved, Abdel turned to find Ajantis. He was pale and sweaty. He supported himself with the help of one hand against the wall. In the other he held his holy symbol. The symbol was cracked on its edges.

Abdel went to help him. “Ajantis, are you alright?”

“I am,” Ajantis breathed.

“What...what was that miasma?” he asked. “I felt...I felt a presence within it.”

Ajantis nodded. “You were perceptive. A servant of the dark powers was within there. One of the great dark powers. Greater perhaps than Helm himself.”

Abdel shuddered. “How did you drive him off then?”

“The servant was weak,” Ajantis said. As if conscious of his own exhaustion, he stood up straighter. “As is the case with all servants. We wield the power of an immortal, but it is exhausting.”

Ajantis replaced the holy symbol around his neck. “I know not which dark power has taken root here, but I feel his strength. We must be careful.”
 
Chapter Nineteen

Klept and his juju men fled from the battle. Warm blood flowed from his left hand and his face. Within his wounded hand he carried the broken remains of his juju symbol. His contest with the invading juju and had not gone well. Beside him, his fellow juju men carried their own wounds and ruined symbols. When they had sensed Klept’s imminent defeat, they had tried to turn the tide--and had failed.

Somewhere behind them, Klept heard the zombies stumbling blindly. Klept did not think to retrieve them. Without his symbol, he could not wield the juju to command them. Even if they were to stop their flight, they would only attack Klept and his fellow juju men. Klept could not hope to regain power over them until a new juju symbol was made.

When the juju men had traveled far enough, they took a rest. Klept took their juju symbols and hid them on his person. He dared not risk any of his tribesman seeing the broken symbols. He feared that they would either side with the new juju man or else they would flee. Certainly Klept would lose his position. He eyed his fellow juju men warily. One of them might think to take his spot. Klept would not let that happen.

“What we do now?” one of them asked.

“Strong juju,” the other said.

Klept shot a glare at both of them. They were unphased. He snarled at them. They did not snarl back, but they kept their tails raised and alert. Klept knew he was in trouble then. They had seen his juju break. His position was vulnerable.

“We go to Great Juju Man,” Klept told them.

“New juju man’s juju is greater.” the second said.

“No! He is not!” Klept snarled, “Great Juju Man commands even greater juju! I have seen it! He brings life to the dead! Great juju! Greater than any other juju!”

The second did not seem convinced. “You say he gave you great juju. Your juju broke against new juju.”

“So did your juju,” Klept returned. “He a great enemy juju man! We go to our Great Juju Man and he will defeat him!”

The first juju man nodded. “Great Juju Man save us!”

The second shot a glare at the other, but lowered his tail. “Great Juju Man save us.” he agreed.

Klept breathed easier. He had kept his position. “Then we go! Great Juju Man must be warned!”


**************

The company was worse for the wear after the attack. Abdel and Ajantis had suffered no permanent harm, but Khalid and Jaheira had suffered several nasty cuts. Imoen too had taken a nasty wound and Jaheira had sealed it up with the last of her healing magic. A look around showed that all of them were exhausted.

“I need a break,” Imoen complained, when Jaheira had told them to continue on.

“That would be foolish,” Jaheira told her. “The enemy is all around us. If we rest, we risk being surrounded and overwhelmed.”

“We don’t even know where we are! Or where we’re going!” Imoen shot back. “We could be going in circles for all we know!”

“I can lead us to the source of evil,” Ajantis said. “I can sense it. There is a great evil ahead of us. I will lead us, if need be.”

“Yeah, and fall into the first pit those bastards dug for us,” Imoen snorted.

“He will have you beside him,” Jaheira told her.

“Well, I’ll be dead on my feet, so I don’t know what good that does him.” Imoen said.

“M-maybe we s-s-should t-t-turn back.” Khalid suggested.

Jaheira looked as though she were ready to murder her husband. “If we do that, the kobolds will have at least a day, maybe two to layer trap after trap for us.”

“If the foreman lets us through again,” Abdel said. “I have a feeling it won’t be so easy for us to get back into the mines again.”

“What does that matter if we die trying?” Imoen asked. “Besides, if we don’t go back, that poison is going to kill Ajantis.”

“Jaheira’s healing has kept it at bay,” Ajantis said, speaking up for the first time.

“Yeah, but it’s still affecting you!” Imoen protested. “She only slowed it down! The longer we wait, the worse you’ll get!”

“We have some hours still,” Ajantis told her. “If we press forward, we can destroy the source of the evil in these mines and return to the surface before the poison takes effect.”

“A short rest then,” Abdel said. He gave a nod to Jaheira and Ajantis, “Perhaps you cannot regain your expended powers, but the rest of us are physically exhausted. I expect both of you are too. A short rest will do us good. An hour. Maybe two.”

“Two.” Imoen said.

“One.” Jaheira said. She gave Imoen a meaningful look. “Any longer child and Ajantis may not make it back.”

“An hour then.” Imoen agreed.

“If we are to rest, then we should get out of this tunnel,” Ajantis said. “The enemy knows we are here and there are too many approaches for my liking.”

“I may know of a place for us to rest,” Jaheira said. “Not far back I saw a tunnel that seemed to have a lot of vegetation. I saw no tracks. We might take refuge there for an hour without being disturbed.”

“Sounds good,” Abdel said.

Jaheira led the company back to the tunnel she had spoken of. As she had told them, moss and small vegetation grew in plenty in the tunnel. The company quickly entered the tunnel. Their plan was to go in a short way, but far enough that the light of their lantern would not give them away. All the time, Abdel could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. He feared an attack from kobolds at any moment.

After fifteen minutes of exploring the tunnel, the company came into a large underground cavern covered in vegetation. In areas of the cavern roof, thick green slime covered the vegetation. The slime occasionally dropped from the ceiling in long, thick globs that the company was careful to avoid. In the middle of the cavern lay the remains of a battle. What looked to be several small blackened bones in the center of the cavern.

“What are those?” Abdel asked Jaheira.

“I do not know,” Jaheira said. She looked up and pointed to the ceiling. “There are burns on the ceiling too…”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Imoen bent low and shifted her hand through the blackened bones and produced a blackened skull. It was shaped like a dog’s. “This...this is a kobold’s skull!”

Ajantis took the skull, “It’s been burned clean...what could have done this?”

Jaheira took the skull, “The burns are recent, I think...but if that is so, why?”

Abdel took the skull, “Maybe they burn their dead? It would explain the ceiling, I think.”

“But why lay them out like this and not in a large fire pit?” Jaheira wondered.

“Ewww!”

Everyone turned to Imoen, who was frantically trying to wipe away some green slime from the back of her tunic. “Gross!”

“Grow up!” Abdel snapped. “It’s just some slime! Clean it off!”

“I’m trying! Ugh! It’s making my skin numb!” she complained.

“You may be allergic,” Jaheira said. “I will tend to you in a moment.”

“I can get it.” Imoen huffed.

“Let us stay away from the slime,” Ajantis said. He pointed to the far corner, where the kobolds had seemingly entered. “We will rest over there. I don’t see any slime there. Less strange vegetation.”

“No, I don’t like it here,” Abdel said. “There are kobolds here. That means they’ve been here before.”

“We can’t waste time going back,” Ajantis argued.

Abdel looked around and pointed to an entrance farther down the cavern. It was covered in thick vegetation. “There! We’ll cut through there and find a place to rest.”

“I see more of that slime there.” Ajantis said.

“Well, we can burn it off,” Abdel said. He turned and started for the passage. As he approached, his eyes caught something. “Hey! A sword!”

In the vegetation covering the door, stuck in a particularly thick root, Abdel found a thin arming sword. It had a simple guard that Abdel did not care for, but his eye caught upon the beautiful moonstone upon its pommel. Along the blade Abdel made out four sigils that he was certain were elven. Abdel reached down and grasped the sword by the hilt. Slowly he drew it out and held it up to examine.

“It’s beautiful! It looks like it might even be magical!” He told the others. He turned to take a swing at the vines.

Abdel heard Jaheira gasp. He turned to look at her. Her face was horror stricken. He frowned. “What?” he called to her.

“Abdel! Put that down! That’s a moonblade!” Jaheira called out. “None but those it chooses may wield it or--”

Abdel cried out in pain and dropped the sword to the floor. He shook his raw, red hand. The sword clanked to the ground. Abdel looked from his burnt hand to the sword in amazement. Gingerly, he reached down and probed the hilt of the sword with a finger. He jerked back, expecting another burn, but the sword was cool. He probed it again, finding nothing, he slowly picked it up. The sword had only burned him when he had attempted to cut the vines.

“Abdel! Put that down!” Jaheira commanded. “Abdel!”

Abdel looked to Jaheira. “It seems fine now,” he told her.

“Does it?” Jaheira growled.

“Yeah, I…”

Jaheira slapped at the burn on Abdel’s hand. He cried out and jerked back. Jaheira followed it with a slap to the head. “Are you addled? It just burned you! And you’re lucky that’s all it did! Moonblades kill all those unworthies who attempt to wield them.”

Abdel stared down warily at the sword, as if it might strike him dead at any time. “Well, what is a sword like this doing down here?”

“How should I know?” Jaheira demanded.

“Hey look, a sheath.” Imoen said. She had come over to examine the vine-covered cavern and had discovered the sheath.. Already vines had grown over it. It was a beautiful sheath of fine leather with gold and silver around the neck, in which rubies had been set. She pulled the sheath free and handed it to Abdel. “It should be safe in this, right? Magic swords have to be drawn to work.”

“Well, that is how it always works in the old stories,” Abdel said. He took the sheath and slid the elven blade inside. It was a perfect fit. Abdel buckled it onto his belt. “Well, we’ll worry about this later. I expect some elves might want it back. Perhaps they’ll offer a reward for its return. In the meantime, we need to get through this cavern.”

Abdel drew his sword and began to hack at the wall. The vines snapped and broke. Abdel struck with such ferocity that it almost seemed as if the vines were shuddering. Abdel was halfway through when a hand appeared from within the vines. Abdel started. What was a hand doing in the vegetation?

Words came and Abdel perceived his danger. He tried to throw himself out of the way, but he was too slow. A bright flash of scintillating colors overwhelmed him. Abdel’s mind spun away from him and it was a short time before it returned to him. He opened his eyes, once again in the dark gloom of the mines. He started in alarm, but no attack came. He looked around and gasped.

Abdel saw an elf, tall and noble in bearing. He had dark black hair and pale flesh, though with what seemed to be a blue tint. His eyes were a bright green and within them Abdel saw small golden flecks. He was dressed in long purple wizard robes, underneath which he wore a loose tunic and leggings. He wore high brown boots. Abdel realized he was in the presence of a moon elf, one of the high elves. One of the most noble and wonderous of the elf race. He might have seemed like a god, had not his robes and clothes been torn and dirty and the man looked as though he had not eaten in a tenday.

“Who...who are you?” he asked the elf. “Where did you come from?”

“I am Xan,” the elf said. His voice was flat and seemed to hide mockery somewhere in every word. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s not everyday I meet a bumbling idiot who brings down a horde of kobolds upon my head.”

Abdel stared at him, “What?”

“He was hiding in that sealed cavern you chopped through,” Jaheira told him.

“You were that light!” Abdel realized.

“Hmmm, master did always warn me about using that spell at point blank,” Xan thought out loud. “He said it could cause permanent blindness or a concussion. I didn’t think it would make someone addle.”

“He’s always been a bit addled, to be honest.” Imoen snarked.

“What a relief.” Xan said, though Abdel sensed he did not mean it.

Abdel got to his feet. “What were you doing in that cavern anyway? What’s down there?”

“Nothing of any good to me, that’s for sure.” Xan said.

“Then what were you doing in it?” Abdel asked.

“Trying to save my skin,” Xan said. “Then you came along and have no doubt dragged a horde of those kobolds after you.”

“Sorry,” Abdel said, not meaning a word of it.

“Yes, well I suppose it’s what I get for praying for help.” Xan grumbled.

“If you have found a safe cavern we can hide up in, then we would be glad to share it with you,” Ajantis said. “Surely several more will make it safer. I can’t imagine sleeping well with no watch.”

“Yes well...I wouldn’t think so.” Xan said. “Lots more vegetation and slime.”

“Tell me about it,” Imoen said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “My neck is still numb.”

Xan raised a brow. “Oh, is it? Well, sorry to hear.”

“Are you going to share your cave with us or not?” Ajantis asked. “Surely it cannot be so bad, if you have taken refuge within.”

“Well, why not?” Ajantis said. “I’m doomed anyway. Why not have company? Come on in. But don’t cut anymore at the vines. I had worked hard to put up a barrier to keep the cretins out. With luck, they may not enter.”

The company thanked Xan and followed him into the cavern, stepping through the hole that Abdel had made. “How did you get the entrance to grow over like that?” Jaheira asked.

“Oh, a minor spell my master taught me long ago,” Xan said.

“Hey, did you lose a sword by any chance?” Abdel asked. He pointed to the moonblade on his belt.

“I did,” Xan said.

“Oh, well you can have it back if you wish,” Abdel said and began to unbuckle it.

“Oh don’t bother,” Xan said and waved a hand dismissively. “What good would it do me? We’re all going to die anyway. Come on, this way. And do be careful with that lantern. Lots of vegetation here. Burning to death is my third least favorite way to die.”

“What are the other two?” Abdel asked.

“Drowning is my second and quartering the first.” Xan said. He shuddered.

The company followed him and they discovered he was right; the vegetation and slime grew thicker and more prominent as they delved. The company had to be careful to avoid the horrible green slime. Twice Ajantis suggested setting fire to it, but Xan insisted that they shouldn’t. “You’ll choke us with smoke. Did all they teach you was how to swing a sword? Besides, this stuff irritates your skin. What do you imagine it’ll do to our lungs if we breath it in?”

Xan led them to a small chamber, where the plant and slime had not yet reached. The company immediately dropped their gear and rested. Jaheira tended to Abdel’s burn with some balm and gave Imoen some water and lotion. “Wash off as much as that slime as you can manage, then put on some of that lotion.”

“Would you like some help with that?” Xan offered.

“She doesn’t need help from a cretin like you!” Ajantis snapped.

Xan shrugged. “Can’t blame a fellow getting one last peak before he dies, can you?”

Abdel saw Imoen flush and smirk. In the end she went off into the cavern to handle the rash as best she could. Exhausted, Abdel found a spot where he could lay on his pack and take a nap. The rest of the company, save Ajantis, took a short meal. Xan stared at their food like a starving dog. Jaheira offered him some meat and bread. The elf eagerly took it and eagerly devoured the food. When offered more, he ate that too. Abdel yawned and turned over and decided to get some sleep.

Abdel did not sleep well. He dreamed himself a piece of bread, slowly being devoured by a giant skull that wept tears of blood. Abdel started from the terrible nightmare. He looked around. Around him, the rest of the company had fallen asleep. Except Imoen and Xan, who were bent over their own pack. He heard the smacking of lips and the sound of tearing.

“Imoen?” Abdel called. “What are you doing…”

Imoen turned and Abdel started. Her face was covered in crumbs and bits of food, but it was the feral look in her eyes that had startled him. For a brief moment, she did not seem to have recognized him. Not as Abdel, for any instance. She swallowed and licked her lips, then cleaned off her face.

“What’s going on?” Abdel asked. He felt something was terribly wrong.

“Hungry,” Imoen told him. “That’s all.”

“You were like a pig at a trough,” Abdel told her. “If you eat like that, you won’t have any…”

Abdel realized that Imoen was not eating out of her own pack, but rather had taken Ajantis’s pack. Nearby, Abdel saw her pack; it had already been turned inside out. All of her traveling gear had been deposited on the cavern floor. He stared at Imoen in disbelief.

“Don’t be too angry with her,” Xan said. “This is hungry work.”

Abdel turned and saw that Xan had Khalid’s pack and nearby, Jaheira’s. Both had been emptied. The sickness of the scene gave birth to anger. “Hey! Are you two mad? You’re eating all the food!”

“Well, we’re doomed anyway,” Xan told him with an unapologetic shrug. “Might as well have one last meal, right?”

“You said the kobolds wouldn’t come down here!” Abdel yelled.

“Aye,” Xan said. “It’s not them we have to worry about. It’s this.”

Xan turned and pulled down the back of his robe. Abdel gasped. A horrible green growth had taken hold at the base of Xan’s neck and spread well down the spine and out across the back. Xan then pulled up a sleeve of his robes and revealed more of the growth on his arm. Then at Xan’s prompting, Imoen showed her back and pulled down her tunic to reveal a similar growth, though not at the same state as Xan’s.

“What in the hells is that!” Abdel cried.

“I don’t know,” Xan admitted. “It’s some sort of parasite, as far as I figure. Really, I was doomed before I started. It fell on me some time ago. I took refuge in this cavern after those kobolds chased me in here. Fool that I was, I had thought the gods had smiled on me. That slime...it carries the infection.”

“Then why did you lead us down it you bastard!” Abdel yelled.

Xan’s eyes went glassy. “It’s hungry Abdel. So very hungry. With the five of you, it will feed and grow stronger. Larger.”

“You’re mad.” Abdel realized.

“He isn’t,” Imoen said. Abdel turned and saw the same glassy eyed expression on her face. “It’s hungry Abdel...I...I can’t fight it...we shouldn’t fight it…”

“Wake up!” Abdel called to the others. “Help! Enemies!”

None of them awoke.

“A simple spell put the squire to sleep.” Xan explained. “The other two were more difficult, but when Imoen joined me, we were able to overpower the two.”

Abdel saw that neither Jaheira nor Khalid had fallen asleep naturally then; each had a nasty dark knot upon their heads. Rage boiled in Abdel. He reached and drew his sword. “I don’t know what you’ve done to her,” he told Xan. “But I am going to kill you.”

The venom in Abdel’s voice took the elf by surprise, but it quickly vanished. “I cannot allow that dear friend. We are to be fed upon. Our escorts have arrived.”

From the tunnel emerged four figures. Abdel gasped. They had once been people; but their bodies had become fully engulfed in the terrible green growths that afflicted Xan and Imoen. Their movements were awkward, like the zombies powered by a dark priest. Abdel turned and went for Ajantis and tried to shake him awake, but it did him no good.

“Don’t fight it Abdel,” Imoen told him. “It’s not so bad. The slime numbs your senses, so you don’t even feel it.”

Abdel turned back to the coming creatures. He pulled his warhammer free. He had no choice. He would fight them all. The first of the plant zombies broke into an awkward charge. It reached out with outstretched hands. Abdel sidestep the attack and took one of its legs. The plant zombie cried out and hit the ground hard. Abdel spun and brought Ashideena to bear upon it. He crushed its skull and a jolt of electricity scorched it black. Eerily, the thing still screamed in pain, though it should have been dead.

Abdel had no time to think about it. The second and third zombies were upon him and he was forced to skip away to evade their attacks. Before he could counter attack, the fourth zombie rushed him. Abdel met its charge, driving his sword into the zombie’s chest, up to the hilt. The zombie jerked and screamed. Abdel gave it a shove and slammed Ashideena into its skull, setting its ruined skulled aflame.

From out of nowhere came one of the remaining two zombies. It slammed its fist into Abdel’s torso and took the wind out of him. A second blow sent him flat onto the ground. Abdel scrambled to evade the next blow, but none came. Instead, a terrible cold splashed upon the back of his neck. Abdel felt horrible burning pain and then--nothing. The sensation in his neck turned numb. Abdel rolled to his feet and slammed his hammer into the zombie’s kneecap. The zombie screamed and hit the ground.

“Enough!” Xan cried.

The zombies halted in their struggles. Abdel looked to Xan. He held out a hand. “You have lost Abdel. The slime is already upon you and you cannot remove it.”

Abdel felt his stomach lurch. Already he could feel the numb sensation spreading down his spine. Fear and rage shook him. “No. No. No!”

“Drop the hammer, Abdel. Surrender.” Xan commanded and there was a strange power in his words. Abdel felt his hand move, as if on its own accord. The hammer dropped. He stared down at it, mesmerized. He had lost. He felt it.

Xan sighed. “You have lost. Come, sit with us. The presence is not an evil thing. It is hungry and must feed. We are doomed. Let us enjoy what delights that we can. It will please the presence too. Imoen here is very fetching. She will be a delight to share…”

Abdel roared and rushed the elf. The elf was too surprised to perform a spell. Abdel had lost his hammer and his sword, but he still held the elf’s sword. He knew the sword would burn him and perhaps do worse, but he drew it anyway. The handle burned red hot in his hand, but Abdel did not let go. He leapt at Xan and drove the sword deep into his belly. Xan screamed and shoved Abdel away. In the instant after, a blue flame ignited and consumed elf and sword.

A scream erupted from Imoen and the plant zombies. Imoen grabbed at her head and the zombies spasmed. The blue flame grew higher and then as suddenly as it had come, vanished. Abdel had expected to see the charred husk of the elf, but the elf stood, untouched by the flames. Not only that, but the sword was no longer in his belly and showed no sign that it had ever been. He held it aloft in his right hand and stared at in wonder. A glow came from a rune on the blade, one that Abdel had not seen upon it before.

“No! The sword! You bastard!” Imoen screamed.

Imoen drew her sword and rushed at Xan. With surprising speed and skill, Xan deflected the tip of her sword and sliced straight through Imoen. The sword did not even slow as it cut through her. Imoen screamed and a blue flame engulfed her. All around them, the plant zombies screamed and writhed in pain. Abdel screamed too, for Imoen.

His scream died when the blue flame vanished and left an untouched Imoen. She lay upon the cavern floor, eyes wide and breathing hard--but alive. Abdel turned and saw Xan move from zombie to zombie. A blue tongue of flame danced upon the blade of his sword. He cut down one zombie after the other. The flames spread across the creatures, burning away the vegetation and leaving nothing behind but smoke and blackened skeletons.

Finally, Xan stood over Abdel. “Hold still,” he told Abdel.

Abdel was too shocked to speak or move. Xan placed the flat of the burning blade across the back of his neck. The numbness that had spread across his neck and back suddenly grew hot. Abdel yelped and jerked away, rolling to put out the fire. He leapt to his feet, ready to fight, but Xan had turned his attention back to the tunnel.

“We don’t have much time,” he told Abdel.

“What do you mean?” Abdel asked.

“It will send all that it has against us,” Xan told him.

Abdel eyed the elf. “It told you that?”

“No,” Xan reached up and pulled down the back of his tunic and robe. Abdel saw that the green growth was gone. “I am no longer connected to it. But it is a simple mind and I have suffered under it for days. It will throw all of its slime zombies at us now.”

“How many are there?” Abdel asked, wondering if they could defeat so many.

“Too many.” Xan told him. “Quickly! Waken the others! I will break my spell upon Ajantis!”

Abdel went to Jaheira and Khalid and tried to wake them, but it was no use. He went to Imoen. She stared blankly and only shivered. “Imoen! Imoen!” Abdel yelled. He jerked her up and gave her a good slap.

She came to. She looked at him. “Abdel? Abdel, what happened. I had...there had been a voice. In my head.” she shuddered. “It was terrible...it was...inside me...eating me... oh gods Abdel…”

“We have to go!” Abdel told her. He tried to get her to focus. He took her in one arm and brought her over. “Xan says many more are on the way. You must help us bear Jaheira and Khalid. Hurry!”

Not far away, Ajantis was awake. He started at the sight of the elf and the burning corpses. “By Helm’s Eye, what is going on here?” he demanded.

“No time,” Xan said. “There are many more of these creatures on their way. Slim chance as it is, we must try to escape.”

Ajantis needed no more explanation than that. He leapt to his feet and hurried to Khalid’s side. “I will bear him. Abdel, you take Jaheira. Imoen, lead the way.”

“No, I will lead,” Xan told them. He went to the entrance and with his moonblade he set the vegetation and ooze aflame. The tunnel was ablaze in a brushfire.

“Are you mad!” Ajantis protested. “You’ve sealed us in!”

“We were already trapped,” Xan told him. “You had been since it had brought you here. If any had tried to leave, the olive slime would have accosted you. You would not have escaped.”

“And what now?” Ajantis demanded. “Now we are trapped!”

“And I thought I was the pessimist,” Xan said wryly. He gestured to the tunnel. “See, the fire goes out even now. Hurry! Death will be quick to reach us!”

The two did not question. Abdel and Ajantis took the last two of their company. Abdel felt

his heart fluttered as he hoisted Jaheira onto his back. Imoen busied herself with retrieving the packs and what contents she could. When the fire had died down and the smoke cleared enough for them to see, Xan led them into the tunnel. Ajantis followed, Imoen behind him, and Abdel in the back. Xan made a turn and ran ahead. He slashed and cut at the vegetation, setting another blaze.

“Don’t stop!” Xan yelled back to them. “Don’t stop!”

Into the burning flames the company ran. Fire licked at their heels and smoke burned their eyes and threatened to choke them, but still they ran. They did not slow until they came upon the tunnel of the entrance, too weary and half-choked with smoke to continue on. The company slowed, despite Xan’s insistence.

“Come what may, I must rest.” Ajantis told them. “Even if every foul monster within a hundred miles should descend upon us.”

“You’re not half wrong,” Xan told the squire. “I should have known it would be you that’d get us all killed.”

“Come on Ajantis, we can rest later,” Abdel said, though he was in little better shape than Ajantis.

With much difficulty, Ajantis forced himself to his feet and continued, though only at a half-trot. Xan grumbled, but said little more. The company was within the last fifty yards of the entrance when Imoen stopped suddenly. She turned back. Abdel stopped, concerned. She did not listen to his urgent words.

“Something’s coming…” she told him, her voice small and terrified.

“We know!” Abdel yelled. “Hurry, we must get out!”

Imoen shook her head and Abdel could see the hopelessness in her face. “There are too many of them Abdel. Too many. We can’t escape. We won’t be safe beyond the tunnel. They’ll come after us. It’s angry Abdel. Very angry.”

“We don’t have the time!” Abdel yelled and he insisted she follow him, but she would not move, held by some unseen terror.

Then Abdel saw it. At the very edge of his vision. He could not make them out, for it was too dark, but he saw a horde of shapes coming down the tunnel. From behind, Abdel heard Xan yelling for them to flee. Abdel half-turned, but Imoen would not move. Seeing that she would not move, Abdel transferred Jaheira onto one shoulder and rushed to Imoen’s side. Without stopping, Abdel scooped her up, turned and raced as fast as his legs could carry him towards the others.

Strong as Abdel was, he could not move at a great pace with the two women upon him, but he made better time than he had thought and kept ahead of the pack of monsters that now pursued them. The entrance grew wider as it grew closer. Just outside he could see Xan and Ajantis. Khalid had been laid down beside them and Ajantis had drawn his sword. Abdel called to them to run, but they did not seem to hear him.

Then behind him, Abdel heard a sound of scurrying. He turned his head to get a look and caught a glimpse of many small things hurrying at the feet of the horde of monsters that chased him. He could not tell what they were, and had to turn his head forward to keep his balance. Over his shoulder, Imoen shrieked.

“Run! Run!” she yelled at him. “The rats! The rats! It ate the rats!”

It took only a moment for Abdel to realize what Imoen told him. The terror that struck his heart awoke a previously unknown burst of energy. Abdel ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He did not see or even hear them, but he had the sense that just on the nip of his heels, the rats followed. His breath was labored, his body was covered in sweat, and he thought his lungs would implode, but still he ran. In the final five yards, he felt his body begain to fail him. His muscles threatened collapse with every step and his vision was blurred. Behind him, he thought he heard something, then he felt something warm and slimey splash his leggings.

Abdel opened his mouth and screamed, screamed and with every ounce left in him, ran out of the entrance and past Xan and Ajantis, where finally he collapsed. Imoen and Jaheira were thrown from him and onto the cavern. Still exhausted, Abdel turn and saw what chased him and wished he had never looked. A horde of misshapen monsters was behind him; rats, kobolds, humans, bats, and long worm-like creatures. Or so he guessed them, for so covered and consumed by the horrible green growth, Abdel could not be sure. Between them and he, stood Xan and Ajantis.

“And here I was thinking I might not die today,” Xan said wistfully.

“You shall not!” Ajantis said loudly and stepped forward.

Xan muttered something, but it became unintelligible, for at that moment a great light pierced the gloom of the caverns. The light; a bright white light came from Ajantis’s helm. At once, what Abdel took for an old, worn helm so unremarkable it might have been part of the squire’s hair, now seemed like a brilliant helm meant for a king. It seemed to be made of silver, with diamonds, rubies, and opals set within it. Ajantis spoke. From one of the diamonds flashed a blast of scintillating colors. The colors washed over the charging monsters. Some were set aflame, others were frozen, some dissolved into bones, and others turned to stone.

Yet more came. Ajantis took several steps forward and unleashed another blast of scintillating colors. More of the monsters died, yet more came. A third blast of scintillating colors diminished the horde, but took with it much of the bright light of the helm. Even so, Abdel saw that it only allowed them a short reprieve; for more were coming. Abdel did not know how much magic was left within the beautiful helm, but he did not expect it to be much.

Abdel heard Ajantis speak again, but this time, the words were different. Frome one of the fire opals a bead of fire shot out and into the path of the horde. It exploded into a bright ball of fire and set the monsters ablaze. Screams of agony rang from the mob, but so great was the rage of the evil presence that drove the monsters that those behind trampled those in front. As they did so, Ajantis called out again and another bead of fire struck them and exploded, killing those already burning and setting the rest aflame.

Still the presence did not give up and another wave of monsters trampled over the second, where they too were met with a bead of flame and a third explosion. On and on it went, until after the dozenth time, the burning bodies were so high, that it was impossible to climb over them and those that tried burned away themselves. Ajantis stood at the entrance, pale and exhausted. The light from his helm had diminished considerably and Abdel saw that many of the fine red opals that had adorned his helm were dark and cracked. At last, the light faded and they were given light only by the blue flame of Xan’s sword and the small lantern they carried with them.

For a long moment, the company was silent. Finally, it was Imoen who broke the silence. “What now?” she asked.

“Let’s get away from this smoke and flames, before it chokes us to death,” Abdel said.

“Yes, let’s.” Xan said. “Though they are far away, there are other passages that lead here. I would prefer not to die to a parasitic slime. I could have gotten that from my mother.”
 
Chapter Twenty

Klept and his juju men entered the Dead Tunnel, so named for where it led. It was dark and long, about a quarter mile. Klept noted several areas where the tunnel had once split off, but had long ago been sealed away by the workers of the tribe. A terrible miasma seemed to linger in the tunnel and it grew stronger the deeper it was followed. The tunnel had been built over a century ago, by a previous tribe that his own had driven out. Or so it was according to the legends of the tribe.

What was certain was that for most of their history, the tribe had been tormented by the presence of the tunnel. For within the tunnel live the white demon. The white demon had been born of the corpse of a dead man, placed there long ago by his own tribe, who being of no moral that Klept could understand, had not reclaimed the strength of their leader by devouring him, but had instead left him to rot in a hole. What terrible juju must have lived within the dead man to have caused him to linger on, Klept had thought.

Then Mulay had come. Great Mulahey. He had approached the tribe with a bargain to sabotage the mining of the men and when he had learned of the haunted tunnel, had made a bargain with the chief to rid them of the creature. With his powerful juju, Great Mulahey had tamed the white demon and had taken its former lair for itself. Great Mulahey now held his chambers there. Klept, as the Chief Juju of his tribe, had regularly visited the terrible place; a place where immoral men had dumped the bodies of leaders.

The tunnel ended. A hole in what had once been uneven stone bricks and held up by old wooden beams. Within it was a great stone hall, upheld by six pillars of uneven stone. Standing stones marked the place of each body that had been laid there; many lined the wall. One stone would sit over a body, with a stone on either end to hold it up. Over a dozen in all. In the center of the chamber was a crude dias, upon which many skulls and bones had been laid about. Atop its center laid a crude sarcophagus that had been molded seemingly from the rock itself. It had once been without any seams or holes, but its top had been broken open.

To Klept’s right was a large circular stone, which blocked the way out. To the left was the entrance to a small chamber, which had once served as the altar to a forgotten god of death, but had since become the private quarters of Great Mulahey. A pole and curtain had been erected for the great juju’s privacy, but had been drawn back. The Great Mulahey sat upon a green cushioned wooden chair.

Great Mulahey was a man, much like the intruders, but his skin had a grey tint to it and small tusks protruded from his lower lip. He had unusually long gangly arms and despite his lean appearance, had great strength. As if to parody his orc-blood, the juju man wore fine red and gold finery. Over his breast on a silver chain lay a black disc, upon which had been carved a white skull. A symbol to the great god that he served. Each of his hands were adorned in rings. Only his boots did not match; for they were hardy looking travel boots

The Great Mulahey scowled when he saw the juju men. “Why are you here? You should have sent a messenger. Did you deal with the interlopers?”

Klept swallowed, “Great Mulahey, we could not.”

The Great Mulahey grew angry. “Could not! After the power and servants I have given you, how could you have failed?”

“There is a great juju man among them!” proclaimed one of the other juju men. “He drove away our servants and broke our power!”

The Great Mulahey stood up, suddenly very furious. “What! Broke your power? How do you mean? Cyric is among the greatest of the gods!”

Klept glared at the juju man, but produced his broken symbol. “We know not what power he serves, Great Mulahey. But it was greater than our assembled power.”

Mulahey descended from the small shrine and snatched the symbol from Klept. He examined it for a long time in silence. His face was no longer furious, but very grave. “This juju man who broke your power,” he said, “What was the symbol he bore?”

“We saw it to be an eye,” Klept explained. “And it made a great white light and I felt great eye pierce me, as if it saw me.”

Mulahey nodded slowly, “A helmite, I’d wager.” He looked to the juju men. “A lesser power to my god. Your power broke because you were weak. Still, I cannot let this insult stand. These invaders are no mere mercenaries. I sense another power moving, though I cannot see who.”

“What we do?” Klept asked.

Mulahey spoke a prayer and the broken symbol was mended. He gave it back to Klept. “Inform the chieftain that he is to move the tribe away from here.”

The juju men gasped. “But why?” Klept asked.

“A great task is still before us,” Great Mulahey said to them. “Cyric wills that the iron in this mine be poisoned, so that it may not be used. I cannot risk anymore of your kind on fighting against these intruders. For them, I have other tools.”

“Other tools?” Klept echoed.

The Great Mulahey raised the juju symbol from off his neck and held it aloft. He spoke words, old words that were harsh and wicked. The lanterns in the crypt grew dim, as if muffled by some unseen evil. A presence seemed to awaken, one that had long been dormant, but now suddenly freed. The kobolds drew together, very afraid.

From out of the broken sarcophagus rose a withered white corpse, dressed in an ancient kilt, with a small sword buckled onto an ancient leather belt. Long white hair fell in strands about its head. Its eyes were a dull yellow in color and its iris black. Cruel broken yellow teeth filled its mouth. As it stood, a terrible chill filled the crypt. It looked upon the three hungrily. The three juju men whispered prayers of protection to their dark god.

The Great Mulahey spoke in the terrible language as he had before. The horrible undead creature shuddered and seemed at first to resist the words, but then answered back in its own language. Mulahey spoke to the creature again. It turned and raised its hands and spoke to the domed brick ceiling in its terrible tongue. Then a great rustling came from the crypt. From the small burial stones emerged skeletons, yellow and broken with age, but nonetheless moving. They carried with them swords and shields, though rust and mold had left such weapons broken or weak.

The Great Mulahey laughed. “Behold! The true power of Cyric! Now go back to your chief and tell him what you have seen! This is what awaits any who challenge Great Mulahey and Cyric!”

Klept and his juju men did not need to be told again. They fled back through the dead tunnel. The chill and terrible presence did not leave them until they had themselves left the tunnel. When he looked back, Klept marveled at the power Great Mulahey commanded. Terrified though he had been, reassurance surged within him. His juju men would report what they had seen and all would know the juju within Great Mulahey was greater than that of the intruders.


************

“There it is,” Xan told them.

After the company had time to escape and recover from the olive slime’s trap, they had learned of Xan and his purpose. He had been sent by Evereska, a closed elven nation in the north-east. “Our wise had sensed a great darkness behind these events on the Sword Coast. Our wise have looked into the future and saw that from within these dark times, the Doom of the Tree of Life shall be found.”

“The tree?” Jaheira has asked. “Do you mean Suldanessellar?”

Xan had been taken aback. “I do. As a Greycloak, I was given the unenviable task of dying to prevent this dark figure.”

They had tried to learn more of the Doom of which Xan had spoken of and the Tree of Life but Xan would not tell anymore, save that he had infiltrated the mines and learned that the kobolds were commanded by an orc of some sort, who commanded an army of the dead. Xan had been captured for a brief time, but had managed to make his escape. Shortly afterwards, he had stumbled into the slime patch.

“They call him the Great Mulahey,” Xan told them. “He is a servant to a dark god, though I am not sure which. He did not wear his symbol openly, though I sensed it about him.”

“Then he must be the source of the evil that I feel,” Ajantis had said.

“Perhaps,” Xan had said. “In any case, we should try to escape from these mines now, while we still have our chance. It is suicide to fight Mulahey.”

“We cannot turn back now,” Jaheira had said. “We cannot allow this villain to continue poisoning the mines in Nashkel. Even as we speak, Amn and Baldur’s Gate are preparing for war.”

“What about Ajantis?” Imoen had asked. “He’s still poisoned!”

“We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Ajantis had said. He puffed out his chest. “If it’s a matter of bravely dying or living as a coward, I choose the former.”

“We can come back!” Imoen had protested.

Abdel had shook his head, “If we did, they would entrench themselves. The traps they would have would be fourscore what they had. And who knows what this Mulahey will do? He may slaughter the miners and raise their bodies as his undead servants. He seems to command them easily enough.”

“He does,” Xan had said. “But there is a darker power that he controls! Next to it, I felt insignificant. We should leave and return with reinforcements.”

It came to a vote. Imoen and Xan voted to leave. Abdel, Ajantis, and Jaheira voted to continue on and after a glare from his wife, Khalid agreed as well. And so Xan had led them through the tunnels to a large chamber, in which sat a large underground lake. Across an old stone bridge was a small piece of land, surrounded on three sides by water. The small island was where the kobolds dwelt or had. When the company had arrived, the island seemed abandoned. The campfires had been left to die, the huts were empty, and the crude wooden gate that faced the portcullis was raised. Imoen crossed the bridge first and checked for any surprises they might have left behind. She found none.

“It’s completely empty.” she told the rest of the company as they crossed the bridge.

“I do not trust this,” Ajantis said. “Cowardly and dark as their hearts are, this feels like a trap.”

“It is possible they might have abandoned their home, rather than try to hold out against us,” Jaheira said. “But I do not think so. I agree with you, something is not right.”

Abdel’s eyes darted around. Something gnawed at him, though he could not put his finger upon it. “This is a defensive position. Why abandon it? What do they gain? Why leave the portcullis open?”

“Perhaps there might be a more defensible position within those tunnels?” Ajantis said and he pointed to various tunnels in the wall the island lay against.

“Seems like as good a place to get ambushed as any,” Xan said.

The company passed under the portcullis. Abdel tensed, ready for the inevitable surprise attack, but none came. They passed through the portcullis and into the heart of the filthy huts. Nothing leapt out at them. Only a deepening chill slowed them as they put upon their cloaks. Abdel did not understand why it had grown so cold, but it unnerved him. He could not understand why the temperature had changed so suddenly.. Yet his mind returned time again to the open portcullis. At last, he knew the answer.

“A trap!” he shouted in realization. “It’s a trap!”

The others turned to him, stunned and alarmed. At that moment, a loud bark from back where they had come from. Several kobolds had mounted the frame of the portcullis and slashed through the ropes that held it up. The portcullis came crashing down, breaking several of the thick wooden bars, but barring escape nonetheless. Then from out of the huts they came; a dozen, perhaps two dozen skeletons, armed with rusty broken swords and armored with rotten broken shields. With a rattle of bones, they charged the company.

Surprised though they were, the company had been wary. Quickly they moved back to back and sought to screen Ajantis and Imoen best they could. They counted a score of skeletons and to survive, they would need Ajantis to drive them away with the holy light of Helm. Imoen would serve as his last defense.

Abdel dropped his sword and took out his trusty warhammer. He caught the first skeleton on his shield and slammed Ashideena into its chest. The ribcage shattered and with it the skeleton collapsed into a pile of inanimate bones. Yet as soon as he had felled the undead thing, two more had taken its place. Abdel was forced to withdraw backwards from the swinging pair. Around him, the others had not fared much better. Khalid and Jaheira had each felled two, but six more pressed upon them. Xan had felled one of his own, but three more pressed in toward him, not even slowed after Imoen had hurled a throwing knife into the skull of one of the skeletons, taking off the head.

For a moment it seemed as if the company would be overwhelmed, but then came Ajanti’s voice, clear and strong. He spoke a prayer to Helm and held aloft his holy symbol and from it came a great, beautiful white light. Several of the skeletons dropped their weapons and turned to flee, save for the one that Imoen had already damaged, whose bones burned and collapsed into a lifeless pile. The other skeletons hesitated, but did not flee and soon pressed their attack.

Abdel blocked the furious sword blows from a skeleton and shattered it with Ashideena. Nearby, Xan destroyed a second skeleton, securing their rear flank. Ahead of the group, Jaheira and Khalid dispatched another two skeletons, but both had taken bloody wounds from the flanking skeletons. With the rest of the skeletons turned away, Xan and Abdel rushed to their aid and destroyed the remaining two.

“We should get out,” Abdel said. He did not know why, but he felt deathly afraid. “That attack nearly succeeded!”

“We can’t get out now,” Xan said, the life out of his voice. “Not unless you want to swim across that river. The kobolds cut the rope to the portcullis. It would take too long to chop our way out, even if we had the axes for the job.”

“No, we must push onward!” Ajantis said, though his words sounded braver than he looked. The turning had taken a toll upon him and Abdel could see that the poison must have worked its way through his system. He looked paler and clamier and though he seemed on firm feet, Abdel saw his legs shake with exhaustion he walked. The squire would not last long.

“I agree with Abdel,” Imoen said. “We should turn back. That’s three to three now, if Xan doesn’t change his vote.”

“You need to override the old vote,” Jaheira told her. “As it stands, you do not have the numbers. We cannot remain put, in either case. We must press forward or retreat.”

“The portcullis blocks our way out,” Ajantis said.

“Then we swim or climb over or...or something!” Imoen protested.

“J-J-Jaheira,” Khalid said. “P-P-Perhaps we s-s-should…”

He was silenced with a glare from his wife. “We are not leaving,” she said, “We…”

Jaheira cut off suddenly. She turned back toward the cavern wall, where the tunnels were. Khalid too, turned. Then Imoen. Abdel felt his heart pound in his chest. “What is it?” he asked, unable to contain his fear.

“I heard something,” Jaheira said.

“Me too.” Imoen said.

“I-I-I did t-t-too,” Khalid added.

“Another surprise attack!” Ajantis declared and readied himself.

Then it showed itself. At first Abdel had thought it a living man, perhaps the Mulahey that Xan had told them of, but a closer look suggested some form of zombie; for it had long been dead. Yet it was no zombie; it moved with a grace that did not belong to such things. Its eyes stared at them with not just hunger and malice, but an intellect that matched any of theirs. As it approached the company, a great chill went before it.

“A wight!” Xan cried out. “We’re doomed! A wight has come!”

Xan stepped forward and held out his holy symbol, “Begone foul wight! Begone! Back to your grave! Helm commands it!”

The beautiful bright white light returned. It flashed and the wight hissed. Patches of its skin burned and blackened, yet it did not flee nor was it destroyed. Abdel felt, at the edge of his senses, as if a great battle between paladin and wight were taking place that he could not see or hear. The battle was brief. Ajantis collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.

The wight let out a shrill laugh and rushed the squire. Ajantis might have died, had not Jaheira intercepted the creature. Her scimitar caught its short sword and for a moment, she held the creature off in a dazzling display of swordplay. She landed several blows upon the wight, but none left a mark upon it. Jaheira, already exhausted, was unable to match the wight’s pace and it drove an inch of its short sword into her stomach. Jaheira cried out, but before the wight could finish the job, Khalid interceded.

Khalid cut a slash across the wight’s abdomen and his blade left a gash. The wight hissed and retreated from his weapon. Khalid stood between the monster and his wife, panting. From around the half-elf came Abdel and Imoen, he still had his hammer and she had drawn her sword. The wight snarled, but did not renew its attack. Instead it raised its head and called out in a voice terrible and dry. They did not understand the words, but it was harsh and cold.

A rustling of bones. From out of the darkness came several skeletons. Whether the wight had called back those that Ajantis had turned or had kept several hidden, the company did not know. The company responded quickly; Abdel and Imoen each went to hold off their own pair, while Xan held off his own pair from behind the company. Abdel fended off the skeletons with shield and hammer, unable to immediately overcome the two.

“Abdel!” Imoen called. “Help!”

Abdel spared Imoen a glance and saw that she had been wounded and was retreating. Abdel cursed and risked an attack. He lunged forward and connected Ashideena with the pelvis bone of one of the skeletons. Ashideena’s magic broke the dark power that animated it and the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones. But in so doing, he had exposed himself to the other skeleton, which navigated to flank him. Abdel cried out when he felt the rusty blade slap him across the back. With a snarl, he spun and smashed the skeleton’s ribcage, destroying it.

From behind, Xan had dispatched one of the skeletons, but had taken a bad wound to the chest and was bleeding profusely. Abdel however, could not spare him any aid. Imoen had retreated in the face of two skeletons and had taken wounds just as grievous. Abdel rushed and met them. Faced with two opponents, the skeletons split their forces. Broken apart, both skeletons were quickly dispatched by the pair. Together, the two turned to aid Xan.

Khalid had been least fortunate. The wight had renewed its attack. Khalid had wounded it twice more with his enchanted scimitar; the last time he had driven it through the abomination’s stomach. But though it was wounded and pained, the wight had used its undead nature to its advantage; with had grasped Khalid with both hands. Khalid had let out a blood curdling scream. His face had instantly gone ashen. He abandoned his sword within the wight and retreated, only to fall over his wounded wife.

The wight hissed and drew the scimitar out of its own stomach. It stood over the pair, relished its victory. It had not accounted for Ajantis however. Having survived the squire’s turning, it had assumed he had no other means of harming it. After the initial shock of his loss, the squire had regained his wits and produced a small glass vial. As the wight stood over the two half-elves, ready for the final blow, Ajantis had hurled the vial. It had caught the wight in the face and shattered upon impact.

The vial had contained holy water, blessed by priests of Ajantis’s order. Immediately, the wight let out its own scream. It dropped its stolen weapon and clawed at its own face. The holy water had burned away the creature’s flesh and left a half-exposed skull. The wight stumbled backwards and turned to escape, but it had not the chance. Ajantis was upon it then and drove his sword through its back. The enchanted blade pierced the creature’s heart and killed it, though to be sure, the paladin withdrew his sword and beheaded it as it fell.

To the rear, the three had overpowered the skeletons and destroyed them. Xan had been wounded in the leg and could only limp. Imoen had taken several cuts, but they were shallow and easily bandaged. Abdel had come away almost entirely unharmed, protected by his mail. Jaheira had been badly wounded and Khalid lay upon the ground next to her, weak and pale. He had barely been able to move off his wife and had not been able to help bandage her.

“What do we do know?” Imoen asked.

“We go on,” Ajantis said. He was pale and his movements were even weaker than before, but he refused to even sit upon the ground. “This was the enemy’s last push, I sense it.”

“Agreed,” Abdel said.

There were no more arguments. Xan directed them to the tunnel that led to Mulahey’s lair. He and the other two remained by the tunnel’s entrance. “Should you need to run,, we’ll be here to slow him down.” he offered.

Ajantis looked upon the elf with new respect. “I have never known an elf to be so noble, perhaps I have misjudged you and yours.”

“You haven’t and we aren’t,” Xan said. “I expect we’ll all have bled out by then. With luck, we might trip your pursuers on the way out.”

Ajantis cursed him and shoved past. Abdel and Imoen followed. The tunnel slowly moved upwards and it was a long climb until it leveled off. Shortly after, the three spotted the glow of a lantern. The three approached cautiously, steel bare. Abdel had switched back to his sword and Imoen had her throwing knives out. Ajantis carried his sword in two hands, his shield upon his back.

The three reached the end of the tunnel. White mist licked the tunnel’s edge and within, the chamber was blanket in it. Little could be made out in the mist; there was lantern light in the chamber beyond, but it only gave the vague impression of a domed ceiling and pillars that helped to support it. The three slowly stepped inside the chamber, palms sweating.

“So, you have come.” came a voice from within the mist.

“Coward!” Ajantis boomed. “This mist is your work!”

There was a chuckle, “Indeed, it is. I may congratulate you. You have come farther than any other in foiling my plans, but now your meddling is at an end. Be comforted in knowing that you have greatly inconvenienced me.”

Abdel felt the hairs prick up on the back of his neck. “You can still surrender to us Mulahey!” he called out.

There was a harsh laugh. Abdel tried to pinpoint it, but the voice seemed to be moving. Was Mulahey trying to get around them to escape or to attack? Abdel thought he heard the padding of feet, but it seemed to be coming from too many places. The voice answered. “You know my name. The elf! Of course. Yes, it makes sense. I should have killed him when I had the chance. That will soon be corrected.”

“Surrender Mulahey!” Ajantis said. “Nothing hides you now, but this mist.”

“True enough,” Mulahey said. “But I am not all that this mist hides.”

Abdel cursed. Movement! Too late Abdel turned to defend himself. From behind, a light but fast body tackled him. A terrible cold pierced him and spread throughout his entire body. Abdel lost strength in his limbs and he hit the cold hard ground. He could not move. Not far away, he saw Imoen fall too. Atop her stood a brown withered creature with long threads of hair that fell all around its shoulders. It wore a kilt, but bore no weapon. Terrible malice shone in its eyes and it had broken yellow teeth.
 
Chapter Twenty-One

Abdel tried to move, but he could not. The terrible cold had numbed his entire body. He could not even cry out. Something attacked his back. He heard cloth tear and the hiss of a savage animal. The hiss turned to a snarl, for although the terrible nails tore his tunic with little effort, they could not penetrate the mail beneath it. Not far away, Imoen was in a similar, but more perilous situation.

Atop her was the creature, one that Abdel guessed was much like the one atop of him. It had tackled her and paralyzed her. And then it attacked her exposed back--but Imoen did not wear the same mail shirt that Abdel had--or any sort of armor. Its claws found soft, vulnerable flesh that tore more easily than the tunic she wore. No scream came from her--and somehow to Abdel, that seemed all the more horrifying. Abdel willed for himself to move, to save Imoen, but he could not.

Then something flew through the air and struck the creature on the face. There was a shattering of glass and a splash of water. The creature’s chest burned and it let out a terrible howl. It rolled off Imoen and onto all fours, like it was some sort of animal. It snarled and hissed. Then Abdel was there. He swung his sword in both hands. The creature leapt backwards and retreated into the mist, though Abdel could hear that it was nearby.

“I see my pets have found you,” came Mulahey’s voice.

“Coward!” Ajantis snarled. He turned and lashed out with his sword at the creature that had pinned Abdel. He missed, but the creature was driven away. “Show yourself! These ghouls will not best me!”

There came no reply, save for the soft snarls of the ghouls. Ajantis went into a low couch by Abdel. He spoke in a low, hush tone. “Abdel! You must get up! You must fight it! I cannot hold them off for long...I do not...I do not have long.”

Abdel heard the concern in the squire’s voice and thought he could see the doubt and fear in his face, though his angle did not afford him a good look. The squire’s stance was unsteady and Abdel feared the squire would not survive the next attack. “They are ghouls Abdel,” he told him in a low voice, “they are creatures of the plane of darkness. Their touch carries a cold that steals life, but only for a short time. Fight it!”

Abdel tried, but it was to no avail. His body felt as lifeless as a corpse. Growls came and from the sudden shift in Ajantis’s stance, he guessed that the ghouls had returned. The squire switched his sword into a single hand and freed his holy symbol. He slowly stood. His sword hand shook, though from fear or exhaustion, Abdel could not be sure.

“Are you scared, little man?” called Mulahey. “You should be. You stand in the presence of a Cleric of Cyric!”

The comment roused Ajantis’s ire. “Fear? I do not fear snakes like you or vermine like these. Serve Cyric you may, but I serve a more noble power! Behold, the power of Helm! The Vigilant One!”

White, beautiful light illuminated the mist. The light warmed Abdel’s body and brought feeling back to his skin, fingers, and toes. Cries erupted from the ghouls and Abdel heard them flee back into the mist. Abdel felt his hopes rise. He began to flex his fingers and toes, even managed to stiffly move his head to see better.

“Fool!” Mulahey laughed. “Behold the Power of the Dark Sun!”

A terrible, black miasma closed in around the three. It battled with the beautiful light. Where the black miasma touched the white light, the miasma dissolved so that Abdel thought that the darkness could not hope to overcome it, but the miasma grew thicker and darker and pressed down upon the light. Abdel sensed the familiar battle, one that had taken place between Ajantis and the wight.

Ajantis gasped and his legs shook. The light began to fade. He held up his symbol higher and it grew brighter. From not far off was the harsh laugh of Mulahey. Ajantis coughed, spat up blood. The light went out and Ajantis fell to the ground, motionless. The miasma rushed in and Abdel felt his body grow cold. From nearby, he heard the ghouls feet and hands patter closer.

Sensing their end was soon, Abdel jerked his half-asleep limbs. They moved about wildly, as if under the control of another. He could not feel anything and moving them made it difficult to guess where they and how far they should go. Difficult, Abdel had thought, but not impossible. Using trial and error, Abdel planted his hands beneath him and pushed himself into an unsteady crouch.

The sensation of pins and needles racked his entire body. Abdel nearly fell back to the ground, so overwhelming was the sensation. He forced himself to remain though and tried to focus his senses through the pain. He tried to reach for his sword, but he could not get his hand to properly grasp it. He cursed.

Then the ghouls came. They ignored Imoen and Abdel; for they had been exposed to the great presence of one of the gods of light and so great was their anger and fury that they ignored all others. Empowered by the terrible miasma, they leapt upon Ajantis and attacked with wild abandon. Their claws and teeth could not get through the plated armor, so they began to tear it off and attack at vulnerable flesh.

“No!” Abdel cried. “Lathander’s Light, no!”

The words of the god suddenly brought great warmth to Abdel. It flushed through him and drove away the numbing cold. The ghouls hissed and covered their ears, then turned their attention on Abdel. The one who had been burnt by Ajantis’s vial of holy water let out a snarl and charged. Murderous intent was in its eyes.

Moving without thinking, Abdel picked up his sword and moved into an awkward upwards swing. The sword sparked as it scraped across the stone floor. Had the ghoul been more cautious, it would have easily avoided the blow. But the name of the god, whose light burned and tormented the miserable monster for countless ages, had been too much for it. And so it was sliced from groin to head. The creature screamed in rage and fell unto its back.

The second ghoul came at Abdel then, but it had learned from the mistake of its fellow. Abdel tried to ward it off with his sword, but his limbs were still weak from the ghoul’s paralyzing touch.The ghoul leapt in and out, probing Abdel’s defenses, testing his speed. Abdel was quickly tiring and knew that he could not hope to defeat it. The knowledge reflected in the ghoul’s vicious face. A sword exploded from its chest.

So occupied with each other, they had not seen Imoen. She too, had been given warmth by Ajantis’s light and she too, had regained much of her mobility with Abdel’s call of Lathander. She had recovered slower than Abdel, but had managed to sneak around behind the distracted ghoul. The ghoul looked down at the hole in its chest and screamed, though not in pain, but rage. Rage at the damage that had been done to a body so precious, it had refused to leave when death had claimed it. It did not see the sword that took the head from its shoulders, but perceived it as a flash of light. Then it sensed itself rolling and was no more.

The ghouls dead, the miasma receded, as if it no longer had a hold upon the world. Abdel and Imoen moved back to back. The warmth and mobility had almost entirely returned to them, but both were tired and afraid. Ajantis did not move and they both thought him likely dead. The two were trapped and alone against a terrible cleric of the dark god Cyric. Abdel was suddenly reminded of Bassilus and the terrible power he had commanded.

“What do we do?” Abdel whispered to Imoen. He could think of nothing but a hasty retreat back through the tunnel.

To his surprise, Imoen did not immediately suggest as such. Instead she said, “Get him talking.”

“What?” he asked.

“Just get him talking!” she hissed.

Abdel cleared his throat. “You’ve lost again Mulahey! Your filthy ghouls are dead! Surrender!”

The response from Mulahey was slow. “Dead? Perhaps. But you are no closer to beating me. I command the power of the Dark Sun.”

“It’s three against one Mulahey,” Abdel lied.

Mulahey laughed. “I am no fool!” he said. “I sensed the paladin’s power break. If he is not dead, he soon will be. It is but the two of you. I expect you can barely move from the ghoul touch. I will--”

Imoen suddenly whirled and threw a knife into the mist. There was a cry and a curse. Imoen followed with a second, but Abdel heard it bounce off stone. Abdel heard another curse and could perceive the movement of feet. Imoen threw another knife, though farther towards her right than before. Again Abdel heard it miss and hit stone. Another curse from Mulahey.

“Not so tough now, are ya?” Imoen called out.

“Whore!” Mulahey screamed. “I will kill you last! And afterwards, I will drag your soul back from the world of the dead! I will have your body and your soul! Your torment shall never end, even after I am--”

Imoen threw another knife, it hit not more than ten yards away. Abdel thought he saw a spark and guessed that the knife must have hit a pillar. Mulahey cursed and Abdel knew he was there. He broke away and rushed for the pillar. The mist parted and Abdel saw the half-orc, dressed in red and gold finery. Mulahey gasped at Abdel’s sudden appearance. Abdel drove the tip of his point at the cleric’s heart. The tip connected, but Abdel felt it penetrate little more than a quarter the length of his finger before it was stopped and the cleric thrown backwards. Abdel saw the glint of steel beneath the finery and cursed.

Mulahey leapt back and with a surprising amount of grace, drew his sword in the same motion. Abdel rushed forward into a frenzied attack, hoping that he could overwhelm the half-orc. He was frustrated as the cleric, though basic in his sword strokes, moved with a speed and grace that Abdel had rarely seen. Abdel’s attack lost its steam and he was forced onto the defensive.

“You’re mine!” Mulahey declared as he launched his own attack.

Yet Mulahey’s own offensive met a wall. Though fast, he lacked the skill to slip through Abdel’s defenses. Mulahey’s grey tinged face took on a shade or purple as he failed to slip through Abdel’s guard. Soon, he was forced back into the defensive as Abdel launched a counter-attack. Both quickly realized that the battle had become one of attrition and both knew that it was a fight that Abdel; exhausted in the journey down and from countless fights, could not win.

After Abdel’s second attack had stalled and Mulahey’s had begun, Abdel felt his parries weakening and it became difficult to deflect or avoid Mulahey’s attack. Mulahey sensed this and began to prod at Abdel, intent on forcing him to waste precious energy on feints and half-hearted attacks. A wicked grin crossed the half-orc’s face. Abdel returned it. Behind Mulahey, stood Imoen.

Imoen had circled around the two men. She had patiently waited for the moment when Mulahey would be too focused and too intent upon Abdel to sense her coming. Mulahey realized his danger too late. In the heat of the battle against Abdel, he had forgotten about her. He tried to twist, but he only served to push his back into the thief’s oncoming blade. Two bones in Mulahey’s back broke and he had managed to twist his back in the process. Had it not been for his mail, he would have been run through.

Taking the opportunity, Abdel drove his own sword into the left side of Mulahey’s front. Abdel heard and felt ribs break. Mulahey roared in pain, but it did not stop him. With surprising accuracy, he spun and delivered the pummel of his sword into Imoen’s sword arm. Abdel heard the bone break and Imoen screamed. Abdel roared and attacked, opening a gash on the half-orc’s thigh.

Their swords rang and grappled for several moments as each tried to overpower the other, until finally Mulahey was forced to disengage. The cleric leapt backwards and nearly tumbled over himself. He moved stiffly; a result of his back injury. His breath was long and drawn. Abdel took a moment to gather his own strength. The tide had turned, he knew. Tired though he was, it was impossible to win a sword fight with a bad back.

Abdel had underestimated Mulahey though. With his left hand, he reached up and tore the chain that held his holy symbol around his neck. “Think you’ve won?” he cried, “You have not! Long is the arm of Cyric! Long and cold is his grip! Behold!”

The disc melted into the priest’s arm. Mulahey’s eyes went wide with pain. The left hand suddenly elongated and blackened, taking on the consistency of tar. Abdel stared at the hand in surprise. It moved forward, ten feet from where Mulahey stood away. Abdel raised his sword to block, but the hand bent around the blade and racked at Abdel’s chest.

Mail burst and the ice-cold sank deep. Abdel gasped in pain and surprise. The cold spread from the long tear Mulahey’s hand left behind and spread through his torso. Abdel gasped for air, but his lungs could not seem to get enough air. His head grew dizzy.

Mulahey’s arm retracted to its normal length, but retained its color and consistency. He laughed and with a jerk of his arm, it shot forward again. Abdel swung at the arm and cut it. The arm snapped back. Black goo leaked from the wound. Mulahey snarled, but sent the hand forward again. Abdel swung at it again, but the hand avoided his swing and slashed open a wound on his right leg. Abdel cried out and stumbled. His entire leg felt as though it had been dropped in frozen water.

Sensing his defeat, Abdel made one last gamble. He charged. Mulahey’s arm snapped back into place. Abdel prayed to Lathander that he would cut Mulaheyin two before the bastard could send his arm again. Mulahey’s eyes went wide with shock. Abdel leapt over Imoen, closing the distance. He swung, Mulahey’s sword swung.

Steel struck steel. Abdel cried out and he lost control of his sword. It flew out of sight and he stumbled. Abdel hit the ground. He looked up and saw Mulahey over him, sword in hand. Glee filled the half-orc’s eyes. He raised his sword. Abdel stared into his death at the sword’s edge. Something like silver flashed into Abdel’s sight.

Mulahey screamed. One of Imoen’s throwing knives had pierced his cheek and sliced his tongue. He dropped his sword and grabbed at the torrent of blood that flowed from his mouth. He pulled the hand away and stared at the blood in his hand. Unbridled fury filled Mulahey’s face. Disarmed, but close, Abdel used an old fighting move he had learned when he had been first trained as a watchman.

He drove the heel of his boot into Mulahey’s groin. Abdel thought he heard something pop. Mulahey’s expression of rage morphed into surprise and anguish. The half-orc doubled over and Abdel pulled his leg back and smashed his heel into Mulahey’s ugly nose. Abdel felt it break with a satisfying crunch. The half-orc flew onto his back and did not move.

All around them, the mist in the room evaporated. The chamber was revealed to them as a crypt of some ancient and forgotten culture. Older, Abdel judged, than the terrible temple that Abdel had been in no more than a few days prior. Not far away, Imoen was on her feet. She clutched her sword arm with her good hand. She helped Abdel get to his feet, though it pained her.

“What now?” she asked.

Abdel took a deep breath. He picked up Mulahey’s sword. “We finish it.”

Imoen gave him a look of shock. “Abdel, he’s already out cold.”

Abdel paid her no mind. A dark, cold rage had filled him. He stepped around Mulahey and prepared to raise the sword for the final strike, but Imoen grabbed at his arm with her good hand. “Abdel! Don’t do it!”

“He would have done it to us.” Abdel said coldly. “Worse, if he had his way.”

“We aren’t murderers Abdel!” Imoen protested.

Abdel hesitated. Fear and anger battled with his principals. He looked down at the unconscious cleric. He knew no real answer. He hated and feared the cleric, yes. Yet he also knew that the cleric deserved death, for the trouble he had brought to Amn and Baldur’s Gate, for the miners and guards who had died at his orders, and for the dead whom he had brought back and enslaved. Yet he felt it was wrong. To kill a man so helpless, it made him sick. And yet, he felt he could not risk letting Mulahey live.

Abdel’s blade hovered.
 
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