The Ingaran Adventures
Episode 35
“Sigil and Ilsensine's Temple”
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Alexander: The Gauntlet of Athena
Zografos: An Ingaran painter going under the
name of Domnhall
Issic: Half Human, Half Gold Dragon Warrior
India: A gypsy Bard/Shadow Dancer
Phaidon: A local Tamer of the Beasts
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The Time: Summer, Nemed 25-26
The Place: Alisander – A very large city, the largest in
all of Inzeladun, Alisander has a population of 120,000 persons. Although Lamapacher
does not have a capital, this city is the definite hub of Lamapacher's commerce
and power. Situated on the shores of the Alisander River, this town has a history
that dates back to the Fourth Age. Founded by King Alisander, a hero of the
Fourth Age, it was the capital of the Kingdom of Alisander. Alisander existed
as a separate nation until it was conquered by Lord Komaaks and absorbed into
his fledging nation Lamapacher. The city is currently ruled by Baron Nadam,
Champion of Vale. The city is well known for its cheese. It also exports manufactured
goods, weapons, armor, ancient artifacts looted from the massive dungeons and
tunnels that crisscross beneath the city to untold depths. The city-state extends
out 50 miles from the city center in all directions, making Alisander one of
the largest states in Lamapacher. Like much of Lamapacher, slavery is illegal,
and many escaped slaves from Drychtnoth and Ingara make their way here.
The night of the 25th of Nemed was a joyful night for all of
Alisander. After Alexander's speech at the Temple of Athena, the people danced
and sang and rejoiced throughout the night. It was a warm night, and the three
moons looked down on a joyous city.
Cthaat Angartha, one of Lord Nadam's female warrior-guards, walked to
Issic's rooms in the Hall of Heroes to see if he was available. She was dressed
in long, comfortable gown this late at night. She was off-duty and sought some
pleasures. When Issic didn't answer the knocks, she shrugged and headed back
to her quarters, figuring that her fingers needed some exercise anyway.
Issic sat in the Library of Antiquities in the Palace of Alisander. The
librarian, the ancient Lavinia, was not there, but had left a book for him.
Lavinia, apparently, had gone to bed for the night. The book was "The
Third Age", an edition that was authorized by Grindill and Groll, although
it was not written by them. Issic went back to his rooms to see the differences
between the "official" histories and some of the forbidden histories
he has been reading.
Phaidon returned from the Temple of Athena and slipped into India's rooms.
The Ingaran gypsy was sitting at a small desk, reading. She looked up and smiled
when Phaidon entered. India was wearing a pretty red gown, her breasts straining
for release against the constraining fabric. The gown was shot through with
gold threads, and her hair flowed like liquid night over her shoulders, the
tips of her soft curls just touching the creamy swell of her breasts over the
low cut bodice. Her skin glowed rosy in the candlelight that gave the room a
golden glow. The seductive folds of the skirt she wore made Phaidon desire
to scoop them up, to see them as an opulent backdrop to her hips and thighs.
One of the moons above was in a position to shine its light in through the windows,
the effect causing a glow of backlighting in her hair.
Phaidon took India's hand and kissed it, held onto it for much longer
than would have been appropriate in any polite society, especially here in Alisander.
He pulled her close to him, looking her in her eyes, which were wide and wet.
He crushed his lips against her mouth and let India melt into her arms. Oh,
yes, Phaidon thought, such surrender! Her nipples tightened and her
belly fluttered with excitement as his tongue probed and twisted its way past
her lips. His hands held India firmly to him, first around her waist, then
slowly moving up her back until he was cupping her face in his hands, plundering
her mouth. His shaft pressed hard against the front of his breeches as India
molded her body to Phaidon's.
Phaidon licked a damp trail through the light dusting of powder on her
bosom, then let his tongue steal beneath her plunging neckline to lick the sensitive
skin of her areola. India's nipples swelled, visible even in the costly fabric.
His hand cupped her other breast, and he inhaled the heady fragrance of her
skin, which smelled of rose-water. He tugged gently at her bosom, lowering the
silken fabric. When her swollen nipple slipped free, he took it gently in
his mouth and suckled her, worshiping her velvety smooth skin, nursing the hard
pearl. Phaidon circled India's other taut little nipple with his fingers and
pinched it as he continued to suckle.
"You are making me wet," she whispered, barely able to speak
from the pleasures. "I should undress."
"No," said Phaidon. "I'll have you in this gown."
He maneuvered her to the bed and laid her down upon it so that her feet hung
over the edge and touched the floor.
Phaidon pushed up her skirts and petticoats, revealing her flat stomach
and silky black pubic hair. He felt his organ throb as he gazed at her nakedness.
He knelt down and shoved his hand under the globes of her ass, and moved his
other hand to her soft pubic hair and into the folds of her sweet womb. She
was wet and hot as she worked herself against his fingers, breathing faster
and letting out little high-pitched gasps. India's juices lubricated his fingers
as this beautiful woman let Phaidon fuck her with his fingers. She smelled
of pure lust and she bounced her hips up and down on the bed, faster and faster,
her cries ascending as she moved faster. Suddenly she stopped and, with her
hands pressing his fingers in hard against her, her legs quivered and a deep
shudder convulsed her body.
Phaidon reached for his belt buckle and pulled down his breeches. His
organ was freed and he eased it into her. The feel of her wet, steamy flesh
surrounded his organ and he began pumping himself against her, feeling the length
of his organ work inside this beautiful woman until he could hold back no longer.
He felt himself squirting inside her, his hips bucking harder against her.
He collapsed on top of her, her super-heated body warming him. She held him
close.
Alexander knelt in his room at the palace. He had a lot on his mind.
He knew Zografos wanted the Ring and Finger of Vulthois very badly, and Alexander
personally hated having something a party member wanted, yet not using it himself.
He just was not sure if that grisly relic would be a good thing for anyone to
use. It definitely reeked of evil, and he did not want to contribute to Zografos
becoming evil. He had the impression that Hannah was the right person to use
it. Sighing, Alexander sat down and prayed to Athena, casting divination,
and asking her, "What is Athena's will concerning the ring and finger?"
His answer came, and the female voice spoke in his head. "There is
risk with all endeavors, but a display of such trust toward your companion may
create a powerful synergy that will help. In the end, Hannah is the one that
needs the Ring and Finger, but it is not for you to create the situation. Her
destiny is what her destiny is, and it shall unfold as the Weavers of Fate spin
it. Use your wisdom. You will be risking the creation of a great villain,
but if Zografos can hold true, you will have a powerful ally. Is it worth the
risk?"
Alexander Maximus thanked Athena and cast a second divination,
asking, "You have given me the means of restoring Ingara, but who should
be king of the wondrous land when it is restored?"
The answer was more vague than he had hoped. She answered, "The
one who will lead the people into prosperity. The one who will honor the gods
of Olympus. You will find the new ruler, and this person's qualities will immediately
draw you to a wise decision."
In the old theatre, the Psigate roared into active life. It expelled
two people onto the stage. One, male, had a curious aura of chaotic power about
him. The other, a female, looked around quickly, surprised. The man, looking
a bit like a peddler or tinkerer, wore an old wide-brimmed hat, a worn and threaded
cloak, a loose shirt with wide sleeves, a dusty pair of trousers, and a dirty
pair of well-worn work boots. A crystal on a leather string dangled around
his neck. He had a brooding look about him, a look many ignorant men called
unholy. His haggard aspect held out contradictory promises of revelations,
for none who looked upon him could think of him as merely another mortal, despite
his unkempt appearance. An ancient aura seemed to dog him, an aura that seemed
strangely malign, yet curiously benign at the same time.
"I am not sure where Joriku, Xalandra, and Spaulding are," said
the man in a deep, hollow voice as he examined his surroundings. The girl merely
shrugged. "Sorry. Apparently we are in Alisander." They tried to
go back through the Psi-gate, but it didn't work. "Let's go to the palace,"
said the man.
"Alright," said the woman. She had pretty blonde hair and could
mesmerize men by her poise and lubricity. Her dress was modest, but seemed
to enhance her beauty. She was above the middle height of women in Lamapacher.
She was slender, and wonderfully graceful, despite a certain languidness in
her movements. Her complexion was rich and brilliant and her eyes were large,
dark, and lustrous. Her blonde hair was exquisitely fine and soft, and her
smile was pretty, but unexplainably melancholy.
The pair walked out into the nighted streets of Alisander, which were
still rejoicing from the night's earlier events. Judging by the phases of the
three moons that shown down above, and the position of the stars, the man had
an idea that they had jumped in time somewhat, but he wasn't sure. He asked
someone the date. The man, a clerk at a moneylender's establishment, laughed
drunkenly and it was Nemed 25, Year 38.
The man nodded, and the clerk stumbled off. "We are apparently five
or six months transposed in time," he said to the girl. "Right now,
we are at the Castle in Indor. We have been here, so we are known, but we haven't
been introduced at the palace yet. I am not sure if we have taken possession
of our property here yet or not. Probably we have, but have not really taken
advantage of that yet. Let's go see Darja and find out what is going on."
"Sounds good," said the girl. "Whatever you think best."
As they walked through the moonlit streets, the man relied on his own
chaotic luck to give him details about what was going on. He caught coincidental
conversations about warlords, armies, and the Gauntlet of Athena.
"Seems there have been some serious goings on in the month since
we were here last chronologically," said the man. The girl simply nodded.
Upon reaching the palace, the man showed the female warriors on guard
his palace papers. The guard took the papers and gave them back to the man.
As the man and the woman walked through the palace gateway, she was shocked
that, while the woman had the normal triple shadow cast by the moons, the man
had five shadows. The guard shuddered and thought there was something blasphemous
about that man, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what that thing might
be.
Inside the palace, the pair made their way toward Darja's spacious office.
The nobles stopped and stared as the two made their way through the labyrinthine
corridors, often amazed at little things that seemed to happen in their wake.
One of Darja's assistants met the pair in the vestibule of the Shipping Guild's
palace suite.
"I am Roland, Chaos Lord of Oard," the man said, "and we
would like to see Darja. She hasn't met us yet, but we need to see her."
The assistant recognized Roland from previous encounters with Black Brows. Despite
his common-place appearance, Roland was not a man easily forgotten. There was
something vaguely threatening about the man, a nameless fright that seemed to
hover around him like a cloud of venomous gas. She went in to ask Darja if
she would meet with Roland. It was late, and Darja often did not see people
at this hour.
When the assistant returned, Roland was given permission to see Darja.
Roland entered the room and introduced himself to Darja. "I am Roland,
Chaos Lord of Oard, and this is Phoebe. You haven't met us yet, but you will."
A lamp brightened the room from the far end of the room. Its mellow light
bathed the woman in gold as she listened. Black hair was coiled high on her
head, and a large purple stone lay between her rounded breasts, which were cupped
in a tightly laced amber-colored bodice. She wore a pretty gown appropriate
for someone of her social class. Not nobility, but wealthy through the measure
of her own hard work. Velvet, the same shade of amber as the bodice, sheathed
her upper arms, then widened to loose sleeves cuffed at the wrist. The skirt
she wore was figure-enhancing, its folds falling like a waterfall of satin to
the floor around her feet. Darja watched Roland steadily, assessing him. She
saw his disheveled aspect and disregarded it. His statement sounded insane,
yet her impression was one of undeniable sanity and poise, despite a mysterious
mission of the utmost gravity.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I understand there is a psi-gate in the palace."
"I don't know. What is a psi-gate?"
"A large monolith, probably black or dark green in color."
"Ah, yes. There is such a thing entombed somewhere in the tunnels
that crisscross beneath the city and the palace. I understand it was sealed
by the founder of Alisander upon the order of Grindill. This is not a good
time to be messing around with Grindill's affairs."
"Why? He's dead."
Her eyebrows raised. "Then you carry tidings that are unknown to
us here. The past year has brought the Guardians of the Silver Tree, the forces
of Yam ibn Saud, and, now, the Gauntlet of Athena. The gods surround Alisander,
living and breathing its atmosphere. I have a hard time believing a god has
died."
Roland reflected on this, and realized Grindill was not dead at this time,
and in so realizing, he figured that perhaps Darja was right. Now was not the
time. Although, most of his uses of the Psi-gates were during this time. Doubts
assailed his mind. He needed to talk to Nadam.
Darja gasped in alarm when an animal head hanging on the wall started
to whistle. Roland said, "Sorry," and then made his excuses and left.
He went to find the Lord of Alisander, despite the lateness of the hour.
Lavinia, the ancient librarian, shuffled down the marble floors of the
corridors in the palace. She passed Yithilla, but did not say anything to the
elf, nor did Yithilla make an effort to address the librarian.
The elderly librarian paused at a window and looked out at the little
red moon that was slightly below the larger, greenish one. She couldn't sleep.
She had a feeling that her sanctuary, the Library of Antiquities, had been invaded.
She hoped it had nothing to do with that demon that was perusing the forbidden
books. Lavinia continued her shuffling toward the Library of Antiquities.
Issic finished with the volume, having made cross-referenced notations
in the first chapter. He wanted some additional resources, so he got up from
his desk and left his rooms. He walked toward the Library of Antiquities.
As he walked through the corridors, he saw Roland and Phoebe. Not knowing them,
he ignored them, although he did notice that neither of them gave him a second
glance. That fact alone made him notice them. His draconic looks always brought
a second, and often a third or more, glance.
When the Chaos Lord of Oard passed Issic, the book the half-dragon carried
spoke. It said, "Hey, Chaos Lord!"
Issic nearly dropped the volume. Roland stopped and read the title.
It was "The Third Age" by Ulthic Malthoy. "May I see that?"
asked Roland. The book said, "Give me to him!" Issic surrendered
the volume.
Roland peered through the book, noting the notations and changes made
in the first chapter. "Why did you mark up this book?"
"Yeah," said Phoebe. "That doesn't make sense."
"Because it was wrong," answered the golden half-dragon.
"How do you know these other books are right?" asked Roland.
"Vote by majority?"
"Yeah," agreed Phoebe.
"Because that book is authorized by Grindill, and the other books
I used were forbidden by Grindill."
Roland became interested. "Where are these other books?" He
handed Issic back the volume. A history authorized by Grindill held nothing
of interest to Roland.
"Follow me," said Issic. The half dragon led Roland and Phoebe
to the Library of Antiquities. The librarian was there but didn't know if she
liked the look of the two strangers. Lavinia, the somewhat deformed, unattractive,
elderly librarian, looking tired and drawn, was assembling a vast armful of
literary matter of every size and shape. Roland approached Lavinia and said,
"I'd like to see the volumes I was told of, the volumes forbidden by Grindill."
The librarian dropped the entire load of books she carried on a table.
"I am not allowed to show those to anyone," she said.
"You showed them to him!" said Roland, indicating Issic.
"Yeah," echoed Phoebe.
"Does he look like anyone?" Lavinia asked. "Who are you?"
"I am the Chaos Lord of Oard."
Lavinia looked Roland in the eyes. "Oard, eh? Oard is long dead."
"That is correct, but not as dead as you might imagine."
The look in Roland's eyes told a tale of ancient knowledge, an abnormal
knowledge in need of more, hunting for dark secrets that have never been explored.
That sort of hungry knowledge was something Lavinia could appreciate and understand.
"Very well," she said. "I will let you into the forbidden chambers
of books." She shuffled off among the stacks. After a bit, her thin voice
wafted back to Roland, "Are you coming or not?"
Roland smiled and said, "Sorry." He walked carefully through
the stacks, followed by Issic and Phoebe. He walked through a large doorway
into a malodorous room filled with books and scrolls of all shapes and sizes.
A small reading table squatted unused in a corner, collecting dust. Even a quick
glance showed spellbooks, grimoires, and tomes of forbidden lore. Several books
had even been chained to the shelves. The bindings on several of the books
was faintly disturbing, and other tomes were little more than collections of
clay tablets. There were easily a thousand extremely rare tomes in this room.
Phoebe could only shake her head. This room alone exceeded the size of the
small library in Roland's castle, and each one of these volumes were rare in
the extreme. Roland, coming from an uneducated background, couldn't appreciate
the value of this room like Phoebe could, yet even he was impressed. Phoebe
reached out and pulled down a volume at random. It was a triangular shaped
book with a wooden cover and vellum pages. The title was Canticle of Palindromic
Denominates. There were only four known copies of that tome. She selected
another. Cistvaenis Vale it was. Only three known copies in the world.
She saw the crystal covered Debilitating Afflictions by Ehrlich Amat.
She thought the original volume bound in crystal was lost. Her attention was
then captured by the exceedingly rare In Darkest Sigil, by Jeena Ealy.
After looking around, Roland found a collection of journals bound together
with twine. They were the original journals of Lord Nadam, Champion of Vale,
which dated back to the Second Age. Roland smiled to himself as he sat down
at the dusty desk and cut the twine. He opened the first volume and leafed
through it. He found several interesting passages over the next few hours.
Reference to a second Tower of Magic, ruins similar to Angust, yet different,
references to cone-shaped beings, and mentions of obscure legends of a being
named Greandel. Continued research through the volumes dredged up a story about
Sorehn and the Clock of Time, and how Sorehn built a triangular castle.
"More," said Roland as he stretched his arms. "I need more."
Lavinia, the ancient librarian, said, "It is too bad our original
journals penned by Grindill himself were stolen."
"Grindill's journals? Stolen?"
"Aye."
"When?"
"Earlier." She handed Roland a note. The note was in Draconic,
but the words rearranged themselves in the Chaos Lord's hand. It read, "I
sought Manderkarr, but learned he was dead, so I will content myself with you
in my vengeance. Reshni is dead. A life for a life. I have taken these books
because I divined they would be something you would be interested in. Come
and get them." The document was signed, "Tionetenty".
"Do you know this Tionetenty?" asked Roland. Issic wracked
his brain, but could not come up with an identity.
"Who have you killed?"
Issic smiled. "The number cannot be easily counted."
Roland turned to Lavinia. "Who left this?"
"A tall, dark man. I was not here, so one of my librarians aided
him. He said he could be found at the old temple to Marush Hob."
"Where is that?" the Chaos Lord of Oard asked. Lavinia supplied
him with the directions and a map.
Issic said, "I will go."
Roland said, "No. This is a trap. Phoebe and I can go in and wrinkle
his little web before you come in."
Issic said, "Before I leave with you, I would like to summon a friend
of mine."
"Who?"
"He is a powerful warrior with pet panthers."
"As you wish. I care not."
Issic walked out of the forbidden room of the Library of Antiquities and
whispered to one of the under-librarians. She nodded and summoned a page.
The page arrived and Issic sent her off to get Phaidon.
At the knock at the door, Phaidon got out of bed and pulled on his breeches.
He opened the door and spoke to the servant. He closed the door and said, "Issic
wants us."
India rose. She pulled her hair back with one hand and kissed his lips
softly. Standing on shaky legs she took off the wrinkled gown and quickly dressed
in her worn gypsy outfit. Phaidon woke up his panthers as India dressed. When
all was ready, he led the way to the Library of Antiquities.
Ordiss Ool slunk around the suites given to Anathek Dar, the Drychtnothian.
A black cloak shrouded Ool's figure as he listened at the door. The guard standing
at the door did not notice the furtive figure right next to him. Ool's powers
were not to be denied. He listened as the Drychtnothians planned an assault
on the Temple of Ilsensine. Ordiss Ool smiled. He saw an opportunity to remove
one of Yam ibn Saud's potentially great obstacles from the plan of conquest.
Once Ordiss Ool had enough of the plan, he slunk away. Unseen and unnoticed
he paused in the Hall of the Founders. He waited for a few moments. A young
serving girl passed and Ordiss Ool stopped her with a silent gesture. The girl
nodded and whispered into Ool's ear. A cold smile split Ool's face and he whispered
something in return, giving the girl a metallic phial.
Ool then left the palace, and turned his cold feet toward the temple of
Ilsensine.
Even as Ordiss Ool made his way toward the darksome temple at the outskirts
of Alisander, the serving girl continued her way to the servant's quarters.
Using a passkey, she silently opened the door to Khasmaphet's room. The young
Khemian was sound asleep, just as Ool had promised. The girl walked to the
end table beside the blind Khemian's bed. A pitcher of water sat there, innocuous
and innocently, ready to quench the thirst of the sleeper when she awoke. The
servant girl upended the phial and dumped a clear poison into the water. With
a wicked grin, the girl slipped out of Khasmaphet's room and locked the door
behind her.
The moons lit the way as Roland, Phoebe, Issic, India, and Phaidon walked
down the Alisander streets toward the old temple of Marush Hob, flanked by Phaidon's
panthers. The air was crisp, and there were still revelers out, although the
number had thinned considerably.
They emerged upon a great square that surrounded the old abandoned temple.
The building in question was large, three stories high with open galleries and
arcades, all made of pink marble. Slender elongated columns, tier above tier,
bore up high domes.
They found that the oval doors were padlocked shut. The windows had been
boarded shut, as well. A prostitute was leaning on one of the pink columns,
and Roland asked her if anyone had gone in recently. He didn't notice that
some passersby were stopping. The prostitute said that only the tour groups
went in. She told him who to go see to get a tour.
Roland went and inquired about a tour at the office building the prostitute
pointed out. It didn't occur to him that this office was open pretty late into
the night. After a brief conversation, the official gave Roland the keys to
the temple.
Surprise didn't stop Roland from taking the keys. He ran across the street
to the old temple. He opened the padlock. A couple stopped and asked if he
was going on a tour. Roland replied that he was. The couple asked if they
could join. Roland shrugged and said he didn't care. Soon ten couples had
lined up to tour the building. Roland reiterated his plan, which consisted
of Issic staying outside, and the rest of them going into the temple.
Inside, they walked down an entry corridor decorated with sexual imagery.
The couples started to break off from the group to find secluded alcoves for
their liaisons. Upon walking into the main worship area, they could see writing
on the wall. It read, in large letters, "Reshni's Revenge! Manderkarr
shall die! And so shall his friends!"
After searching the temple, they were finding nothing. Then Phaidon wondered
where all the tourists went. They searched the private alcoves, and found the
couples that followed them in. The couples were in various stages of love-play,
and had each been speared and frosted over as if they had been outside in the
winter.
Roland opened his mind to detect psionic activity, and realized they were
being stalked by invisible creatures.
"Let's get down to the main worship area, so we have room,"
said Roland.
"Yeah," said Phoebe, a little worried. "That sounds good."
Gathering in the main worship area, Roland could detect a large entity
at the back, beneath the graffiti. The fiends became visible. First to appear
were eight, nine foot tall horrors, utterly terrible to behold. They were bony
and wretched, almost a dried husk of a human form. Their heads were fearsome
human skulls with sickly dried skin stretched tightly over them. Protruding
from their backsides were very large tails, much like that of a giant scorpion.
A foul odor of decay and rot clung around them like a shroud. Phoebe recognized
them as osyluths, more commonly known as bone devils.
Behind the osyluths an alien terror appeared. Twelve feet tall, it had
an extremely large, insect-like body with great claws on its hands and feet
and large, sharp pincers at its mouth. Its head bulged with huge, multi-faceted
eyes, and it had a long, thick tail covered with razor-sharp spikes. It carried
a frosty longspear with a green head. It had an aura of corrupt power and commanded
instant respect from the onlookers. It was one of the ferocious gelugons, an
ice devil.
Last to appear was Tionetenty. In a flash of fire he appeared. Against
that crimson ball of fire an image, black against the blinding light, appeared
suddenly. The black silhouette's details sprang into being as the fire died
down. Very gargoylish in appearance, with red and scaly skin, Tionetenty appeared
as a giant, winged humanoid. Flames licked around its skin, and it had wrapped
its wings around itself like a grotesque cloak. Its large fangs dripped with
a vile, green liquid. Slowly it unwrapped its wings and spread them open behind
itself.
Roland sent Issic a missive. <Get in here>, he said.
Tionetenty gave a silent gesture, and the osyluths moved in to attack. Issic
roared from the outer hall and ran into the main worship area, his green greatsword
flashing out in front of him. Like a raging storm, Issic battered the osyluths
back and down with blows from that green blade.
India's shadow blade was out, darting in and around as the bony devils
clutched at her. Roland activated his mind blade, a short, semi-solid blade
composed of psychic energy. Phoebe prepared to cast a spell, and unleashed
a lightning blast that sent knocked the approaching insectoid devil back. Phaidon
ordered his panthers to attack, and they launched themselves at the bone devils,
trying to rip and render the tough fiends. The devils knocked the panthers
aside, only to have the animals back in an instant. Phaidon shot around the
osyluths, trying to nail Tionetenty with his deadly arrows.
The insectoid fiend decided to concentrate on Phoebe, and tore into her
with its terrible claws. Tionetenty laughed and shot fire out over the group,
balls that exploded with terrific power. The pews and the floor caught on fire,
and nearly all were knocked down. Phaidon was up quickly, more arrows at the
ready, firing as fast as he could at the horrible pit fiend.
Phoebe was faltering, so India tried to heal her with her magic, but the
ice devil knocked India aside with his green longspear. India went sprawling
on the floor. Phoebe ducked under the swish of the longspear as the ice devil
continued its plan of spearing the sorceress.
Issic fought with terrible efficiency. He felt not the sting of wounds
and time faded in an eternity of plunging fiends and frantic green steel. He
saw one of the bony monsters roll under his sword and he knew, in a brief flash
of triumph, that he had slain one. If they could die, then he would kill them.
Issic stepped aside from slashing claws and hacked off the hand that supported
the claws. A black, foul liquid splashed from the devils in lieu of red blood,
but Issic cared not. His foes were falling, crushed and broken, beneath his
heavy blade. That was all that mattered.
With an inhuman roar, Issic crashed his heavy sword into the insectoid
body of the ice devil, knocking it away from Phoebe. Issic plunged his sword
into the heart of the monster and trod upon its lifeless body as it melted away
into a black puddle.
Tionetenty was outraged, his fiends had all been cut low before they could
do anything they were supposed to. Obviously Manderkarr's companions were more
powerful then he had been led to believe by Kara Sharyss. No wonder Reshni
had died. But anger clouded Tionetenty's judgment, and in his rage he leapt
up and attacked Issic. It was a ferocious attack. The pit fiend's claws ripped
at the half-dragon, and his wings beat hard against Issic. The fiend bit Issic,
injecting vile venom into the golden warrior. But Issic shook off the debilitating
poison and swung his sword in a mighty arc. He called upon the sword to unleash
its most awesome power, and the fiendish weapon glowed bright green, leaving
a flashing arc of greenish light in its wake. Tionetenty's head shot straight
up into the air, and the fiend's body stumbled backward, still not quite understanding
that it had lost its head. The body crashed to the floor and the head landed
on its chest with a dull thud and rolled off. Head and body quickly evaporated.
Issic roared in triumph.
Zografos was sequestered in his chambers, poring over the papers left
by Doctor Richard Dalby. He was trying to divine what Dalby's plan of attack
on the temple of Ilsensine might have been. Dalby apparently was going to have
Seth sneak in through the secret tunnel, but he couldn't find any plans or maps
that showed where this tunnel was and where it terminated at. Dang,
thought Zografos. There goes the easy way. Zografos was tired. He
stood up, stretched and walked to his bed. Alderni, the maid, was already asleep,
laying naked under the covers. Zografos lay down and quickly fell asleep.
After searching the temple, it was soon obvious to Roland that the journals
of Grindill were not there. They had found several secret rooms, protected by
secret doors. He closed his eyes and allowed his hypercognitive brain to think
about the matter. In moments he realized the answer. The journals would be
at the pit fiend's fortress in Hell. He told the others his conclusion.
"Why would they be there?" asked Phoebe.
"He didn't actually need them here to draw Issic here. Indeed, it
would actually be a liability to have them here. What if Issic had happened
to sneak in using powers the devil was unaware of and steal the books back?
He'd be robbed of his vengeance. But if the books were not actually here, then
he'd gain a greater chance of actually attacking Issic. Also, if, on the off
chance that he failed, he would still have the books and would still have a
later opportunity to use them as bait."
"How? He's dead."
"No. Just his material form was vanquished here. He can't be permanently
killed here, only in Hell can he be slain."
"Oh, I see."
"I still want those books, but I do not know a gateway to Hell."
Issic looked around. He knew there was an extraplanar portal here. He
could see it as plain as day, but he knew not where it led, nor what the key
was that would activate it. He mentioned his finding to Roland, but Roland
did not care for the idea of launching himself into an unknown situation. Roland
also did not relish the idea of attacking a Hellish fortress.
India healed Phoebe of her wounds as Issic and Roland talked. Issic said,
"I have resources on Sigil if you can get us there."
"What kind of resources do you have?" asked Roland.
"Yeah," said Phoebe, backing up Roland with a smile.
Issic snorted. "Well, I know several gold dragons, and there is
always the Apothoker."
"The Apothoker?" asked Roland.
"A mysterious man in the slums of Sigil, deep in the Hive. For a
price, some say he can attain anything."
"That sounds like my sort of person to deal with. But I cannot get
us to Sigil. I can project us into the astral, but that is as far as I can
get."
India said, "I know some tales about the astral. I believe I can
navigate us through it to Sigil."
"I am not sure I want to trust your tales," said Roland.
"Yeah," said Phoebe. "Me neither." India just shrugged.
Issic said, "I would trust my life to her tales. If you will not go, can
you send India and I to the astral."
Roland considered and said, "I think it is best if we all go. We
need to go somewhere private, where our bodies will not be disturbed."
Issic suggested one of the secret rooms their prior search had uncovered.
They gathered into one of these rooms, a pillowed chamber lined with mirrors.
India gave each of them an invisibility potion she carried to further hide their
bodies. Roland took out a little statuette and activated the projection magic.
Soon, their spirits were launched from their bodies, and they were floating
in the weightless void of the astral, connected still to their bodies by shimmering
silver cords.
A few miles away, on a giant stone head, a fortress stood. Issic thought
it looked like a Githyanki fortress, at least it corresponded to the tales told
by the Githyanki he fought alongside against the mind flayers. India told them
to think their movements. Before long, the entire party, even the panthers,
were gliding along through the astral matter. India found the lack of air,
and the lack of need to breathe, disconcerting. Large color pools dotted the
otherwise empty void. She was afraid it would take her days to find the appropriate
color pool, but, as it turned out, they had appeared rather close to the grey
swirling pool of sparkling light that the tales said would lead to Sigil. She
dove into the color pool.
Roland looked at Phoebe and shrugged. He followed India through the color.
Phoebe, Issic, and Phaidon followed Roland.
Bosskulitor, the Grand Apotheosist of the Esoteric Order of Ilsensine,
listened with interest to Ordiss Ool. Bosskulitor served as Absterator's eyes
and ears. He also served as Absterator's most powerful psion in the cult.
Once human, Bosskulitor had lost all touch with his original heritage. His
skin was purple and rubbery, and his eyes were completely white. Short, useless
tentacles sprouted from his face and his teeth had fused into a beak-like maw.
Ordiss Ool found this once-man to be fascinating.
"Thank you for your warnings, Ool," said Bosskulitor. "We
will follow your plan. Absterator has already summoned Maksha from our temple
in Ahmn, and Vizaphmal from Nyandar. They are the Grand Apotheosists from those
orders."
Ordiss Ool smiled coldly.
India was in awe. The city curved upward in both directions from where
they stood. Roland, Phoebe, and Phaidon were nearly as awestruck as the gypsy.
"This is Sigil?" asked India, amazed that such a legendary place
really existed.
"We call it the Cage," said Issic. He breathed in the foul
air and smiled. Phaidon coughed and hacked at the unhealthy smells. He felt
like he was in the heart of decay. The street was bordered by precipitous brick
warehouses and ponderous statues of dark stone. It was shadowy, for the smoke
of the neighboring foundries and smithies shut out the light above perpetually.
The air was odorous with evil stenches which none of the party had ever smelled
elsewhere. Narrow, cobbled streets wound their way from this square they now
stood in.
"We are a long way from my gold dragon friends," said Issic.
"I think I would rather see this Apothoker," said Roland.
"Yeah," said Phoebe. "Me, too."
Issic shrugged. "Well, we are in the right area of town for that.
This, by the way, is the Hive."
Looking around, they were amazed at what was going on. A pit fiend sat
on the edge of a burning pool and negotiated with a human trader. They saw
half-human/half-ram people walking about. They saw a group of people, tall
and slender, float by, communicating by means of illusion, creating complex
rebuses to give meaning to their tales.
"Dabus," said Issic. "Some fear them as the true masters
of Sigil. Others maintain they are nothing but slaves of the Lady." For
once, Issic didn't look out of place, India thought.
Issic led the party up a street that was narrow and steep. The designer
of this part of Sigil apparently did not know the definition of a straight line.
The street wound in every direction. It consisted in several places of flights
of steps. Its paving was irregular, sometimes stone slabs, sometimes cobblestones,
and sometimes bare earth, packed hard from traffic. The houses were tall, peaked-roofed,
incredibly old, and crazily leaning backward, forward, and sidewise. Occasionally
an opposite pair, both leaning forward, almost met across the street like an
arch. There were even a few overhead bridges from house to tottering house
across the street. Newer buildings were built on top of old ones, so most
of the structures looked like a stack of boxes about to collapse. Filthy rags
covered shattered windows. The tottering buildings drenched the streets in
shadow. Rats and corpses were common place, and puddles of water seemed deadly
for reasons they could not really give a tangible thought toward.
They saw an old woman peddling boiled rat's feet from a rusted cauldron,
and then saw a group of ratty people arguing over someone's head, which they kept
passing around to each other to point out salient details that supported their
debates. Everywhere was a motley collection of hoodlums, urchins, and drunks.
Taverns seemed to be everywhere, distinguishable from each other only
by name. Nothing here was glamorous, and there was a defeating air of desperation
to everyone they saw.
Soon they came to a Y in the road, and at the crotch of that split was
a tall jumbled building. A sign hung out over the street that said simply,
"Apothecary". Some worn and twisted steps led down from the street
level to the battered door of this establishment.
Issic said, "This is it."
Roland nodded and went carefully down the damp steps. The fog swirled
at his feet. He opened the door, and a small bell attached to the top of the
door jingled annoyingly.
The establishment was dusty and cobwebbed. Rows of shelving were the
primary feature, and the shelves seemed to have a lot more than just medicine,
although potions and ingredients did seem to make up the largest portion of
each shelf.
From the shadows in the back of the store came a grim figure. It seemed
to float, and was covered from head to toe in volumous gray robes. A hood covered
its head, and when it came close, Roland knew why. Its head was skeletal.
Blue fires glittered and danced in the black eye sockets.
"May I help you?" it whispered.
"Yes," said Roland. "At least I think so. We have had
some journals stolen from us by a pit fiend, and we would like to get them back."
"It will be expensive," said the Apothoker in his eerie whisper.
"Two million in gold."
Roland didn't bat an eye. "My funds are not currently available
to me. Perhaps we can work something out. I am a bit transposed in time, you
see."
"Perhaps you can borrow the funds from someone here," suggested
the Apothoker in his secretive whisper.
"I'll be back," promised Roland.
Ordiss Ool returned to the palace in the deep night. The revelers were
mostly gone now, and the streets were relatively quiet. Ordiss heard some interesting
rumors about the Temple of Tenebrion, and about the presence of two shadow dragons
in Alisander. It just would not do to have that particular temple rise in prominence
in Alisander. Those dragons would have to be destroyed. As he walked, he formulated
plans in his mind to forever remove those dragons from the world, and get their
treasure hoards at the same time.
Ordiss stopped at several seedy locations along the city wall before he
began his walk into the center of the Alisander. Some of the establishments,
bookstores, candle-makers, scriveners, and others, were closed, but he entered
them just the same, talking to cornerstones of his network, the spiders that
weaved his webs.
Eventually he did manage to re-enter the palace, unseen by guards and
servants. He walked silently along the walls and through dark corridors. But
he was seen at the last, seen by the one known as Yithilla the Elf. Her strange
eyes caught his movements, and concern entered her mind when she discerned who
he was.
Roland, Phoebe, Phaidon, and India followed Issic across Sigil. From
the Hive, they passed into the Clerk's Ward. It was almost disconcerting as
they passed from the chaotic world of the Hive Ward into the orderly realm of
the Clerk's Ward. Order manifested itself in the manner of its citizens even
as much as in the appearance of the ward itself. Everyone seemed to bow to
each other, and soldiers seemed to be everywhere, making sure laws were obeyed.
Pony cabs, two wheeled and four wheeled wagons pulled by ponies. Most of them
were followed by sweeper boys to keep the streets clean.
Roland followed Issic into a large, powerful looking building surmounted
by dragon statues. A marble floor reflected the wooden glamour of the interior,
reflecting the rows of oak and gold desks where clerks worked. The workers
were all gold draconians. Issic paused before one and ushered Roland forward.
Roland said, "I would like to borrow some money for a short period
of time."
"Of course," growled the gold draconian. "And what will
you put up for collateral?"
Roland explained his situation. The draconian put together some papers
and drew a draft for two million gold pieces, on terms that Roland, in six months
time, would repay the draconian two and a half million in gold. Roland signed
his name and took the draft.
In a short amount of time, they had all returned to the Hive, and, once
again, they were at the Apothoker's place of business. The skeletal merchant
with the burning blue eyes approached when the tinkling of the front bell summoned
him. He held out his skeletal hand. Roland put the draft into it. The bony
fingers curled up around the financial instrument and whispered, "Follow
me."
Roland motioned for the others to follow as he walked down the dusty walkway
to the shadowed rear of the store. Although the Apothoker could move without
disturbing the cobwebs, the silk clung tenaciously to Roland and his companions.
Occasionally Issic's dragon wings brushed up against a shelf and India had to
catch items so they didn't topple over.
The Apothoker opened a squeaky door at the rear of the store and ascended
a creaking staircase to an upper floor. The things on this floor were even
more disheveled than the shelves below. Mirrors, nick-knacks, and statues stuck
out amongst the debris. The Apothoker paused and waved a hand at a small dusty
table. On the table was a stack of books.
Roland almost dived for the books. Hurriedly he opened them. They were
signed by Grindill, and seemed to be in his hand. Still… how was this possible?
Roland said, "I need these authenticated." The Apothoker nodded and
melted into the shadows.
Roland said, "I never would have believed this possible! What is
this place?" Issic could but shrug. Then they heard a shuffling sound,
and the Apothoker returned, holding Lavinia's hand, leading her toward Roland
and the stack of books. Lavinia looked terrified, and Roland almost laughed.
Stopping at the table, the Apothoker said to the librarian, "Are
these the tomes stolen from your Library of Antiquities?"
Lavinia scrutinized the books, terrified at her surroundings, but convinced
she was dreaming. She nodded. "They are authentic," she said in
her thin, old voice. "They are Grindill's."
Roland smiled. He was impressed with this Apothoker. The Apothoker held
out a small globe. "I have this for you as well. It will return you to
your own time." Roland took the globe, picked up the books, nodded his
thanks, and went back down the stairs. The Apothoker, Lavinia in tow, vanished
into the shadows.
The morning arrived, Zografos woke up beside Alderni. He dressed, talked
a little with the shadow dragon that coiled around one of the statues. Alderni
awoke and also dressed. Zografos asked her to look into the three nurses that
worked with Doctor Dalby. Alderni said she would ask around.
Alexander knocked on Zografos' door. Zografos opened the door and Alexander
looked relieved. "I was afraid you'd be missing too!"
Zografos was confused. "Missing?"
"India, Issic, and Phaidon were missing!" Zografos pushed past
Alexander and ran down to India's room, then Phaidon's, and then Issic's. Zografos
could not find any signs of disturbance in their rooms or any notes left behind.
Phaidon's bed had not been slept in, but India's bed was all tussled up. Zografos
saw one of the maids pass by India's open door, so he rushed out and grabbed
her. He asked if she had seen any of the three.
The maid said, "I saw Issic head toward the Library of Antiquities."
Zografos released the maid and suggested to Alexander that they might
go there. Alexander said, "I agree."
As they walked through the long corridors, Alexander said, "Domnhall,
I am kind of glad we have this time alone. I have been meaning to talk to you
about something."
"What about?"
"While your werewolf transformation was very useful in the attack
on Dalby's home and I don't mind it, I am worried about the effect it might
have on India."
"What effect will it have on India? I am the one that transformed."
Alexander said, "Well, India has a very dark side that she is always
fighting against and I am worried that her hate of werewolves might push her
into that darker side of her self. I am worried for your safety if she gives
into it."
"I know she hates werewolves, but would she attack me because I took
the form once? What if I took the form of a were-rat? Do you think she would
attack me then?"
Alexander replied, "Her hate of were-creatures runs deep and I am
not sure what her action would be when faced with something she hates so deeply."
"She will have to deal with it then. I would never harm her and
she knows it. I only take the were-creature form when fighting for my life."
"I do not want to see harm come to either of you and I do not know
what I would do if something like that happened."
"I know she hates were-wolves, I don't know how she could think that
I would cause her any harm even as a werewolf."
"Desire and hate are many times dangerous things. India might see
your ability as a curse and desire to free you from it."
They had reached the curiously carved door to the Library of Antiquities.
Inside, they found the hideously old librarian known as Lavinia. Zografos asked
the deformed old woman if she had seen Issic.
In a thin voice she answered, "I had a nightmare about him. A horrible
lich was holding him hostage, and I had to identify some stolen journals."
"I don't care about dreams you have of Issic; I want to know if you
have actually physically seen him lately."
"He was here, then he went to the old temple of Marush Hob with those
two strangers."
Alexander said, "Tell us about the two strangers"
"They were queer. One male, one female, and always causing queer
things to happen. Mages I think they were. One was from Oard, and is allied
with Angustian evil."
Alexander said, "Thank you for you help. Lets go to that Temple,
Domnhall." As they walked down the corridors, Alexander stopped a guard
to tell Lord Nadam that he and Domnhall were going into the city.
The celebrations of the night before had died down, but plenty of people
were still out and about making noise and commotion. They soon reached the old
temple. A mass of people were huddled around the pink marble temple, and the
city guard were moving corpses out of it. Another guard brought out a long spear
with a green metal tip.
Alexander stopped the guard. "What is happening here?"
The guard said, "Someone or something murdered about ten couples
tonight. There are large piles of goo, and some graffiti saying, 'Reshni's
Revenge! Manderkarr shall Die! And so shall his friends!'"
Zografos said, "I wonder who Reshni is." The painter asked if
he could inspect the longspear. The guard shook his head no.
Alexander asked, "How were the couples killed?"
"They were stabbed with a spear and frozen."
Zografos and Alexander went into the temple. They saw General Valdemar
and Lord Bran Brenhold looking over things. General Valdemar was a dynamic individual
dressed in plate armor. His helmet was held in the crook of his arm. His other
hand was parked on the hilt of his bastard sword. He had a hawkish look, and
a face that was leathered and scarred. Lord Brenhold, in contrast, was dressed
in the latest fashions and had a thin rapier at his side. He had a bored, languid
look about him, as if he were eternally sleepy. Lord Brenhold was complaining
to Valdemar that he was bored. Valdemar rolled his eyes and ignored the fop.
Alexander went up to the General and the lord and saluted. "Sirs,
might I ask for any information you have on what happened here?"
"We are not sure what happened. A couple of strangers unlocked the
place and went in with your panther friend and the gypsy. Issic waited outside,
then ran in."
"How long ago was this?"
"Late last night, early this morning. Depends on how you look at
it."
"What exits are there to rooms where the bodies were murdered?"
"They were murdered all over the temple. they assembled here for
private orgies and were killed in the midst of sexual activity."
"I am bored. May I go?" asked Lord Brenhold in a languid voice.
"This is so fatiguing." Valdemar ignored the lord again.
Alexander asked, "Were Issic and the others seen coming out of the
temple?"
"No. Not that I have heard of."
Lord Brenhold noticed Alexander and finally recognized him. "Hello!
How are you? Dragged out here too?"
Alexander said, "Well, you could say that. I heard the people I travel
with were heading this direction and came to find them."
Zografos asked if he might keep the long spear. "I may know some
people that could ring some clues from it."
Valdemar nodded and ordered a guard to give Zografos the spear. "I'd
appreciate any help you can give us, Lord Domnhall."
Alexander asked, "Have there been reports of winged-folk in or around
the temple?"
"No. Not that I have heard of."
"Can you show me all of the locations where couples were killed?"
asked Zografos.
Valdemar escorted Zografos around the temple. He didn't notice anything
that might give a clue about the murders or the location of the others.
Lord Brenhold said, "No one left this temple alive, I hear."
While Zografos toured the temple, Alexander manifested a sending
to Issic, saying, "Zografos and I are at the temple of Marush hob. Where
are you?" It took a while, but he got a reply from Issic. "I am in
Sigil. All is well, will return shortly."
Alexander found Zografos and General Valdemar and said, "The others
will be back shortly."
"How do you know that?" asked Zografos.
"The greatness of Athena has allowed me to communicate with them."
Lord Brenhold sighed. He hated religious nuts. He said, "This place
is really draining. Would you care to accompany me back to the palace?"
Zografos ignored the Lord and asked, "Where are they?"
Alexander said, "A place called Sigil. I need a minute more to look
for clues, Lord Brenhold, but will return shortly if you will wait for me."
Alexander approached the writing on the wall and manifested an object reading
and said, "It was written by the Pit Fiend Tionetenty, the mate of Erinyes
Reshni, who was killed by Manderkarr."
Alexander went back to Lord Brenhold and offered to walk back to the palace
with him. Lord Brenhold thanked Alexander in a tired, bored voice. Zografos
followed, wondering how the hell Issic got to Sigil.
As they walked, Lord Brenhold talked a little about his wife, the Lady
Meriam Jakom Brenhold.
Alexander interrupted at one point, "Why do you seem so, if you will
excuse me, Lord, bored?"
"Oh, because all this running around with General Valdemar is so
tiresome. Nothing interesting ever happens here. Take my wife, for example.
People keep talking like she is a witch, but she isn't anything of the sort.
life would be so much more interesting if she were. Of course, there are no
such things."
"I am inclined to disagree with your last statement, but I am still
sure that your wife is not one."
Upon reaching the palace, one of the palace guards gave Alisander a note
from Anathek, expressing a desire to meet with Alexander to plan the attack
on Absterator. Alexander accepted the note, then asked the guard where he might
find the elf that was rumored to know Neria.
The guard answered, "She is in the main audience chamber with Lord
Nadam and most of the rest of the court. Her name is Yithilla."
Alexander, Lord Brenhold, and Zografos made their way to the main audience
chamber. Lord Brenhold entered first, being announced loudly by the crier.
Few people even noticed. His wife came forward to meet him. She was a sweet
looking woman holding a black and white cat.
The crier then announced, "Lord Alexander Maximus and Lord Domnhall
of Ingara!" Everyone in the room quieted down and stared. This made both
of them uncomfortable. One of Lord Nadam's female diplomats winked at Zografos.
Alexander cleared his throat and asked to speak with Yithilla. In response,
the crowd parted and Yithilla the elf was there, against the wall, leaning quietly
against a statue. Alexander walked up to her and bowed. Everyone's eyes were
on him. "Ma'lady," he said, "I had something I wished to ask
you in private if I might?"
Yithilla nodded her head in a quiet way and walked with a gliding motion
toward a private chamber.
The crowd glanced at Zografos and slowly started to talk amongst themselves
again. The diplomat started to make her way through the crowd toward Zografos,
but another pretty lady cut the diplomat off and reached Zografos first. Zografos
winked at the diplomat, then introduced himself to the other lady as Domnhall
the painter.
The lady curtsied and said, "I am the Lady Tira Poat." Zografos
noted that she was young and gorgeous, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old.
She was dressed sharply; the gown was deeply cut to accentuate her bosom, and
bore many diamond buttons on the bodice. She also wore a diamond choker around
her neck which showed off in her cleavage nicely. Zografos complimented the
lady on her attire.
Lady Tira blushed and said, "Thank you!" She casually touched
Zografos' arm and smiled. "A painter? Do you ever paint people?"
"I prefer to paint people, good lady. If you do not feel it beneath
you, you would be a most ravishing model."
She smiled, and touched his arm again. "And how much would you charge
me for a painting of me?"
"The price is negotiable, good lady. Dependant on many things.
If you wish, we could discuss this in private."
Lady Tira said, "Of course. My suite, or yours?"
"We can discuss it in mine. I do have some supplies there if you
wish to look them over." Zografos left a message with a servant to tell
Alexander where he went. He led the lady to his chambers. Several of the lords
and ladies in the audience chamber smiled to themselves, or elbowed companions
when they saw the pair leave. Ordiss Ool, standing beside the vacant throne,
smiled as well, a cold, evil smile.
The room was ornate, but simple. A table with some plush chairs beneath
large tapestries and a painting of Lord Tasurth, the ruler of Alisander before
Lord Nadam. Lord Tasurth was killed by the Azraelites. Yithilla sat down in
one of the chairs, doing it in an amazingly beautiful and graceful manner.
Alexander unintentionally looked at her strange eyes. He felt as if her were
drowning beneath an infinite see of blue. He thought that all of his essence,
his soul, had been elongated to an immense distance, where the outlying parts
of himself could almost hear the fabled music of the spheres. A warmth stole
over him, and he became aware of an unidentifiable color with which in some
way the sense of ardent warmth was associated. He blinked and looked away from
her eyes. Yithilla smiled. It was exotically beautiful to Alexander, but he
did not have time for this. Alexander decided to just start the dialogue. "Forgive
me for listening to court rumor if I am wrong, but I have heard that you are
an ambassador to Neria, the protector of the elves."
Yithilla said, "Yes, I am." Her voice was musical, containing
a supernatural melody that resonated beneath the words. Her voice was soft,
and Alexander remembered legends of the singing of sirens.
"Athena has made it known to me that she wishes for Ingara to be
ruled by an Ingaran and not by the pretender that rules the shining land know.
Soon the Son of Ares' puppet will fall and a noble king will be in place again.
I have traveled and met several of your kind and know that they are a noble
race. So I would humbly request that Neria consider sending an ambassador to
Ingara when it has been restored."
Yithilla smiled mysteriously, a smile that seemed to hide ancient knowledge
and esoteric thoughts. "Of course. Neria respects the art of your people."
Alexander visibly relaxed and said, "Thank you, I would think that
the art of my people would seem pale when viewed by one who commonly see the
art of your noble race. I thank you for hearing my request. We can of course
send an ambassador to Neria if she wishes; please tell her to send the request
with her ambassador if she wishes."
"Humans are not allowed at her country, but should you ever come
across an elf or halfling that would serve, then perhaps."
The Lady Tira closed the door behind her and looked around at Zografos'
suite.
"I am sorry, lady," said Zografos, indicating the room. "It
is less than what you are used to."
She shrugged and said, "May I see samples of your work?"
Zografos showed her his sketch pad. She flipped through it. "My!
They are largely nude!" She smiled.
"Yes, most clothing hides the natural beauty that I try to show in
my work."
She undid the pleats at the front of her gown, untucking them from the
skirt and underskirt. She undid the many diamond buttons and opened the blouse.
Her breasts were magnificent, a rich dark gold, the color of ripe honey, and
the nipples were pink and erect. She asked, "Do I have natural beauty?"
Zografos was choked slightly for a moment by the ladies openness and replied
hastily "Oh, MY, yes! Your skin tone and shape are magnificent! Would
you prefer to be painted nude or is this a lineage painting?"
She slid her rings and bracelets off and placed them on a table. She
pulled the tie holding the skirt and pushed it off the underskirt, then she
untied the underskirt and let it drop to the floor. Nude but for the choker,
she stepped out of the pile of clothes. Her long legs were topped by a thick
pubic patch and she held his hands to her breasts, allowing Zografos to cup
them and feel them. Her nipples were firm and hard against Zografos' palm. She
tilted her head, obviously hoping for a kiss. Zografos lowered his lips to
hers and she reached up and pulled him to her, kissing passionately and deeply.
Zografos kissed her long and lustily, moving eventually to kiss her neck and
ears. He slowly kneaded her breasts in small circles, stimulating her nipples
as he nibbled on her ears.
She whispered, "Yes, yes," as he kissed her neck and ears.
"You are making me wet," she whispered.
Zografos slowly moved her to the bed as he stimulated her and gently laid
her on it and positioned himself to taste her sweet nectar. She was alive and
open as his tongue slid up her slit. Only the darkness and juice inside of
her seemed to exist. She moaned and caressed her breasts with one hand, and
moved her other hand to her crotch to spread her lips open for the Ingaran artist.
He gave her a thorough inspection with his tongue, all the while massaging her
breasts, ass, and abdomen. He moved up and down her slit, stimulating her sweet
bud for a while and then moved down to her opening. Zografos was so turned
on he thought he would make her go at least twice this way.
"Please," she whispered. "Enter me, mount me, get inside
me and make me finish!" She screamed and her thighs tightened around Zografos'
head as he sucked on her sweet button and massaged it with his tongue while
it was in his mouth. She came again, loudly, thrusting against his mouth violently.
"Gods of Lamapacher, you are better than even most women at this! Please!
Please, fuck me!"
Zografos was pleased to find she liked women as well as men. He figured
he would definitely like to get on that ride. He had to be in her. He pinned
her shoulders down and thrust deeply into her, groaning and grunting as he mined
into her. He banged deep, churning her sex, and his rhythm changed to one
more demanding as he began to drive, pierce her, and her muscles grabbed him,
her belly contracted, and she finished, loudly, thrusting against him violently,
screaming and scratching, and he finished as well, and the full weight of his
body became limp on hers.
As he withdrew he could feel her vagina walls clutching and grabbing him.
Zografos lay there for a few minutes, then said, "I would like to paint
you with just your choker on, if you will let me."
"Of course I will let you!" She posed and asked, "How
much is my husband paying for this?"
Zografos raised his eyebrows and said, "I am uncertain. I can only
put a price on it once I am completely finished."
"Do you ever play with more than one girl at once?"
"I have a couple of times, yes. It is quite exciting."
"Send a servant for me the next time you are in the mood. I am in
the mood for both a lot."
"Rock! After I am done with the initial sketching for the painting,
I will call for my maid!"
The lady replied, "One of these days I'd like a positively indecent
drawing, with my head buried in a girl's crotch, so my husband can't identify
me."
"I am sure we can arrange that drawing, good lady!" said Zografos.
After some sketching, Zografos sent for the maid he had been dallying
with. He showed the sketches to the lady. "I don't want to insult you,
lady, is there a minimum cost you would like me to ask for your painting?"
"Perhaps 400 gold?"
"Hmmmm... How about 550 gold? I think it would hard for me to create
a better painting. I don't believe I will ever find a better and more attractive
model."
She smiled. "Accepted. You have a talented... tongue, artist."
Zografos found himself mentally wishing the maid would hurry up for this
golden skinned woman was causing Zografos to burn up. "It comes from much
practice, good lady," he said, moving towards her and cupping her bottom.
"If you don't mind, more practice never hurt."
"Of course! Please do your worst."
Zografos took her hands and pulled her to her feet on the bed. He lay
down beneath her, and pulled her down so that she was in a sitting position
above his face. He lay on his back and looked at her wide open sex, at her
thick turgid lips and the curly hair spread against her skin. The opening was
wide open, red, glittering, smiling at him, and at the top of it the clitoris
sat, bright, a beacon calling him. He flicked it with his tongue.
She giggled and said, "Oh, I see if I ever tire of standing, I have
a ready and willing place to sit!" she laughed, a light, tinkling laugh
that was pleasurable to hear. Zografos hoped that Alderni would come in and
take control of his lower half while he worked his tongue on the lady. As it
was, the lady played with his manhood with her small hand while he played beneath
her. It did not take long to bring him to erection again.
Zografos will slowly kneaded the lady's ass with deep powerful strokes.
He entered her with two of his fingers and moved against the dorsal wall, looking
for that point women love. He found it, and she twitched against his finger.
He kept the fingers inside her and rolled her clitoris with his tongue. He
slicked it and stroked it and all the time his fingers inside her were pressing
and rotating. Her juices dripped, soaking his hand and his face.
The maid came in and stopped, shocked. The lady stood up in alarm. Alderni
the maid coughed and said, "You sent for me, milord?"
Zografos took a quick break from the glory land. "Yes, we were hoping
you could help 'entertain' us." He gave Alderni a sly smile. She smiled
back uncertainly and started to undress. The lady lowered herself back down
to Zografos, and he went back to licking her.
Alderni approached the pair, and knelt beside the bed, going down on Zografos.
The painter picked up the pace of his tongue lashing on the lady. Alderni then
got up on the bed, straddled Zografos, and lowered herself onto his erection,
sliding herself down onto him. As she rode him, up and down slowly, she offered
her lips to the lady, who accepted the offering hungrily. Both of them started
to knead each others' breasts as they kissed.
Zografos played with the lady's rounded buttocks with one hand as he licked
her and toyed with the maid's button with his thumb as she pumped up and down
on his member.
A sidewise glance showed the dragon, coiled around one of the statues,
watching intently.
Both the maid and the lady screamed in delight as orgasms shook their
bodies. Zografos shot his pleasure deep into Alderni's womb and he relaxed
considerably. The lady got up from his face and up from the bed. She dressed
and thanked the painter, and left the room.
Laying beside Zografos, Alderni said, "I was surprised to see you
with Lady Tira. Her husband is one of Nadam's head assassins."
"I knew that was too good to be true without consequences. I guess,
I will have to hope he enjoys the painting. Perhaps he encourages the lady into
dalliances, to keep her entertained while he is 'working'."
"Not from what I hear. He thinks she is an innocent little angel.
But she has probably slept with everyone in the palace."
"Well, if she has slept with everyone, then it probably won't get
out that I have slept with her, so I believe we are okay. Hopefully that is
not just rumor and bragging. Did you not enjoy having the lady as company?"
"Yes, I did. I have fantasized about her before."
"Do you know anything about the diplomat that winked at me?"
"A little. She is new here, and a bit uncomfortable. She doesn't
entirely trust Lord Nadam. She arrived here to serve under the previous lord,
the one killed by the Azraelites. I don't know of any dalliances she has had,
so I figure she hasn't had any since she arrived here. She likes to read, and
spends a lot of time in the libraries. She seems to like heroes and their tales."
"Did you find out anything about the nurses?"
"Yes, I did. Not much though. Hardworking, for the most part.
Two of them have relationships with townsfolk. The third is a young widow.
One of them, the head nurse, had traveled to Ingara and learned some things
under a mystic healer in Salamis."
Issic, India, Roland, Phaidon, and Phoebe opened their eyes. Each was
alone. Then India sang a small tune and the invisibility vanished. They were
in the room together. The panthers also opened their eyes and stretched.
Roland opened the secret panel that hid them, and they walked out into
the old temple's hallway. None of the corpses were present, and the atmosphere
of the place had changed. When they finally reached the front doors, they found
that they were locked in. Someone had padlocked the door from the outside.
It did not take Roland long to find a back way out of the temple, and
they were soon back on the streets of Alisander. The sun was up, and they figured
it was nearing noon.
"I want to do some more research before we return to our time,"
said Roland.
"Alright," said Phoebe shrugging. She didn't much care either
way.
"Since we are on the same trail, I hope you will consider sharing
whatever you learn. Likewise I would do the same," said Issic.
"Of course," said Roland.
India and Phaidon followed quietly. They were both still in awe and a
little bit of shock at what they had seen. Astral planes and Sigil were strange
experiences for them. Not that it wasn't strange for Roland or Phoebe, but
they were more accustomed to extremely bizarre situations.
Far away from Alisander, in the town of Deenent, a furtive figure stole
into the headquarters of Solomon. This figure took one of his pouches and left
quickly.
As she stole away from Deenent, she smiled. With Shanagra's ashes, she
would soon be able to gain access to the child that haunted her dreams, a child
named Hannah. Lady Indicitus the Healer mounted a hidden horse and rode toward
Visaria.
Time passed quickly for Alexander as he talked with Yithilla. Soon he
heard Issic, Phaidon, and India being announced into the courtroom. Alexander
stood and opened the door for Yithilla. She glided back into the throne room.
When Alexander walked into the throne room, a servant gave the Ingaran
Zografos' message that he had retired to his quarters. Alexander decided it
was about time to go see Anathek to discuss plans concerning the mind flayers.
Phaidon said to Alexander, "Greetings, Alexander!"
Alexander said, "Greetings. Were you in Sigil with Issic?"
"Yes. That is a most strange place. Getting there was such fun!
We could fly!"
"From what little Issic has told me it seems like a wondrous place.
"
"Indeed. That was the largest collection of other beings I have
ever seen."
"I was just going to Anathek to discuss the upcoming attack. Care
to come with?"
"Yes, I think we should all be there to talk with Anathek."
Issic smiled. "Plans are always good. We don't have much more time
for that though. It is pretty much time for action. I am all warmed up! Let's
destroy some flayers!"
Phaidon said, "I agree, Issic. However, rushing in WITHOUT a plan
is foolhardy."
Alexander, India, Issic, and Phaidon left the throne room toward Anathek's
suite. Along the way, Phaidon related his adventures with Roland and Phoebe.
They came across Zografos in the hall, and he joined them.
Alexander told Issic of the message he found written at the temple and
who wrote it. Issic nodded. "He has been 'taken care of' for the time
being. at least until someone summons him back. If you know what I mean."
Anathek's rooms were in the Hall of War, which was decorated with portraits
of famous warriors and statues of others. Outside of Anathek's chamber stood
one of the warlords. The warlord, dressed resplendently in red capes and red
armor, bowed when they approached.
Alexander said, "We are here to see Anathek per the message that
was left for us." The warlord opened the door to Anathek's chamber. Anathek
was sitting at a desk in a Spartan room. "Speed is of the essence,"
he said.
Alexander said, "I agree but to be in a rush is to be foolish."
Alexander said, "I was thinking of praying for advice from Athena
on where the `nest` was and what was protecting it at the very least."
"Good idea," said Phaidon.
Zografos showed them all the plans Dalby had about attacking the temple,
spreading the notebooks out on Anathek's desk.
Alexander asked, "What do the plans show?"
Zografos answered, "Just a secret tunnel, but nor where it is or
where it comes out."
Anathek said, "I think this Dalby guy was on the right track. My
warlords have done some research, and I think I know the secret route that was
going into the temple. I suggest we take it, and strike hard and fast."
Issic flexed his arm muscles and said, "Like I said, I had a little
warm up session this morning."
Alexander said, "I agree but I wish to pray before we go."
Anathek said, "Then do so. I am ready to leave now."
Alexander said, "Any of you are welcome to do so with me if you wish
"
India said, "I will."
"So shall I," echoed Phaidon.
Alexander cast divination, asking, "Great Athena please show
us the location of this tunnel and what evil might be protecting it."
Anathek laughed to himself, "I know where the tunnel is."
Regardless, Alexander received an answer back, "Illithidkin watch the tunnel
of Seth, psions who have accepted the Path of Ilsensine."
Alexander said, "Bless your Warriors with the knowledge they need
for the upcoming battle. Let us bring your wrath to these dark creatures."
Phaidon bowed his head and silently uttered his own prayer to Athena.
"Grand goddess, may our battle be victorious, our weapons strike true and
the evil be vanquished. May my companions and I be safe during the battles
to come."
Alexander said, "Let us be off then."
Phaidon said, "Lead on, Alexander."
Anathek and the two warlords led the party through the palace to a chamber
that led to the underground tunnel system. Jhillim was waiting there. Jhillim
then led the group through the tunnels beneath the palace. The tunnels were
long and twisting, winding like snakes, moving up and down in depth. Soon, a
hole in the wall was reached, a place of rubble and dust. Zografos carried
the green metal longspear with him.
Jhillim said, "Through here." He ducked and headed in.
Alexander followed, sensing for flayers or flayer-kin. He sensed several
in this ten foot wide, ten foot tall hallway. Alexander said, "They are
nearby, everyone"
"So who is this Ilsensine?" asked Issic.
Alexander said, "It is the flayers foul god. She wishes to see the
earth bathed in darkness so that their kind can rule."
A man and a woman approached. They had small tentacles around their human
lips, and had purplish skin. The man, named Bosskulitor, was ready for the
group. He manifested a baleful teleport on Phaidon, attempting to rip
away molecules from Phaidon and send them thousands of miles away. Phaidon
sent an arrow whistling down the hallway just as he saw Bosskulitor concentrate
on the manifestation. The arrow impacted Bosskulitor's skull, slamming through
it completely, nailing him to the wooden wall behind him. The arrow burst with
ice, and froze the brain cells instantly.
Shocked by her mentor's instant death, Maksha started to back up, reaching
for the device that would open the secret door Bosskulitor was nailed to. Too
late was her movement. Right behind that swift arrow was Issic. The half-dragon
showed no mercy for this betrayer of humanity. His swings broke her chest,
smashed her ribs, and caved in her skull before she could even hit the ground.
Jhillim led the way past the bloody corpses and opened the secret door
panel that Bosskulitor was nailed to. The wall swung open into a bedroom.
Phaidon pulled out the arrow that held up Bosskulitor and Issic threw the corpse
to the side. The half dragon then bent and wiped his bloody sword on Bosskulitor's
body.
India, Alexander, and Zografos quickly rifled the bodies, pulling off
their gauntlets, which radiated magic. The corpses also bore a fine set of
iron and leather bracers, a bronze ring embossed with the image of a grasshopper,
a Khemian amulet depicting the ankh, and had three power stones. Quickly the
three took up the items. Zografos and India put on the gauntlets.
"Let's divide these later," growled Issic.
Alexander said, "I agree we will sort these later."
The room they entered after the bodies were looted looked like a bedroom.
It was a small ten by ten room with a bed and a dresser. The room was lit by
a candle, and a long hearth rug covered most of the floor. A painting, so blackened
by age that it could not be made out, hung above the bed. The regular door
to this room was closed.
Phaidon said, "Domnhall, can you check that door for traps and I'll
see if someone is on the other side."
Alexander said, "India search the room while Zografos checks the
door for traps. Issic stand ready to attack anything if the door opens."
India quickly searched the room and found nothing of interest as Zografos examined
the door and doorway. Alexander shifted uncomfortably. He could sense flayers
or their kin all around him. Anathek Dar and the two warlords secured the secret
door, making sure it could open quickly in case a retreat was necessary. Anathek
assigned one warlord to watch the escape route, so no ambushes could be laid.
Phaidon listened at the door and had one of his black panthers, Axylus,
smell at the crack at the floor. Axylus smelled trouble. Phaidon heard someone
closing a door somewhere outside their door. Phaidon and Axylus backed up. "Someone
just closed a door out there," said Phaidon. "Axylus smelled trouble."
Phaidon readied his arrow. "Do we sneak in or rush in?"
Anathek said, "Let's go forward boldly!" He ordered Jhillim
to open the door.
Alexander said, "I think Anathek would rather rush and I tend to
agree."
Jhillim opened the door, and arrows flew in from two directions at the
scout. Jhillim threw himself to the ground, and the arrows were deflected by
Alexander's shield.
Alexander said, "Issic take point!" Quickly, he pulled Jhillim
back into the room as Issic pushed to the front and blew a fiery inferno into
the hallway at the first person he saw. He saw that they were at the corner
of two halls and archers were sitting at the end of both of those halls, firing
arrows. The hall Issic filled with fire began to burn as the carpeting, wooden
walls, floors, and ceilings ignited. The archers caught in that blaze were
screaming in agony, rushing back away from the hot flames.
Issic pulled back as arrows whirred around him. "Should we just
let it burn, or put it out and do this the hard way?"
Anathek said, "Put it out. Only a fool fights in a burning house."
Alexander shook his head as he pulled several arrows out of Jhillim.
He summoned the power of Athena to close several of the worst wounds. He then
turned the energies of Athena toward summoning a water elemental.
Phaidon stepped up, using the doorframe for cover and returned fire.
His arrows pounded into the opposition with deadly accuracy. Arrows splintered
the wood around him as he continued his lethal barrage.
A loud crashing sound tore through the air, and a swirling pool of blues
and greens appeared in the burning hallway. With a splash, a bizarre person
stepped into the blaze. It looked like a crested wave with smaller waves for
arms. Two orbs of deep green peered out of the front of the wave. Alexander
ordered the water elemental to put out the flames. The elemental nodded and
then crashed through the hallway, dousing the flames, drenching the hall in
water. When it reached the end of the hall, it turned the corner and crashed
into the remaining archers. The archers smashed into the walls in front of
the whirling cascade of living water. When each archer had been rendered dead
or unconscious, the elemental vanished in a cloud of raining droplets.
Phaidon continued to fire into the other group of archers. Enemy arrows,
black headed, slammed into the doorway around Phaidon. Archers continued to
fall to Phaidon's pinpoint aim.
Issic roared, "How about if we put those two tables on either side
of us and move down the hallway between them?"
"I'll just duck behind them after I fire! Throw them in the hallway!"
yelled Phaidon. Alexander grabbed one end of a table and Zografos grabbed another.
Issic turned one on it side, sliding it into the hallway. Alexander and Zografos
did the same with theirs.
Xallithidmious, an illithid, with slight burn marks from Issic's inferno,
and drenched in water, manifested a True Concussion at Phaidon. Phaidon
grunted and peered into the smoke filled branch of the halls and saw the mind
flayer.
"Alexander, we've got a tentacle head out here!" yelled Phaidon.
Alexander dropped his end of the table and charged the mindflayer. Absterator,
another illithid behind the other archers on the other branch, threw a mental
attack at Alexander as he crossed the hall, searching out the pathways of the
cleric's mind and thrusting in an attack. Alexander threw up an intellect
fortress, a shimmering fortress of mental determination.
Issic threw a chair down the hallway toward the archers and Absterator.
Zografos yelled, "Issic, why don't you use the table as a shield
and charge with it down the hall so we can engage the archers?"
Phaidon answered, "I am engaging the archers! Throw that
spear at them, it's not special anyway!"
Issic did as Zografos suggested and pushed the table down the hall toward
the archers with sword drawn. Phaidon remained at the door, shooting arrows
around his party members, giving them some cover fire. Zografos charged after
Issic with his long spear. Kadelth, one of Anathek's warlords, took up Alexander's
place at one table and used it to protect Anathek Dar, who charged after Issic
with his battle axe out. India followed behind, helping Kadelth with the table.
Arrows crisscrossed the hall, slamming into the large tables used as shields.
Phaidon whistled and his panthers, Antaeus and Axylus, ran out of the room full
speed past Alexander and pounced Xallithidmious. The panthers tore at its robes,
but did no real damage. Its inertial barrier kept the panthers from
actually harming it.
Absterator enshrouded Phaidon with flame, but Phaidon rolled back into
the room, putting out the flames as best he could before firing again.
Issic reached the remaining archers and used the table to smash them against
the wall. Anathek buried his battle axe in the skull of one archer who leapt
over the table. Zografos leapt at Absterator with his spear, but Absterator's
inertial barrier deflected the green point. Meanwhile, Alexander was
engaging Xallithidmious with the pilum given to him by Athena.
Absterator manifested a Mass Cocoon and trapped Zografos, Issic,
India, Anathek, and the warlord in writhing strands of ectoplasm, wrapping them,
and the remaining archers, like mummies.
Alexander continued to thrust his powerful pilum at Xallithidmious, who
was having a hard time defending himself with his crystal staff. Xallithidmious
opted to teleport out, and vanished in a burst of mauve light.
Anathek tried to cut through the cocoon with his axe, and Zografos tried
his dagger, but neither could move enough to be effective. Issic tried to roar,
but the tendrils of ectoplasm slapped over his mouth, silencing him.
Absterator, around the corner so that Phaidon could not shoot at him,
mind blasted the trapped persons. The air rippled with the force of
Absterator's attack. Issic was stunned, as were the remaining archers.
Alexander rushed back from the other hall and Phaidon called his panthers
back. Phaidon closed his eyes, controlled his breathing, and willed his bruises
and burnt skin to heal, which they did.
Absterator peered around the corner and manifested an Ectoplasmic Wall
in front of Alexander. It wanted to capture those in its cocoon. But such
an effort did not impress Alexander. He called upon Athena to bring down the
manifestations of the mind flayer.
The ectoplasmic wall stood firm, but the cocoon vanished, as did several
of Absterator's and Anathek's magical protections. Alexander tried to cut through
the ectoplasmic wall with his pilum, Athena's Wrath.
Zografos, taking advantage of the freedom, attacked Absterator and his
shadow. Absterator doubled over in pain and vanished in a flash of mauve light.
To be continued…
Current Adventures in Inzeladun
| Nashville 2 Campaign | Inzeladun Updates
| About Vincent N. Darlage
Cthaat Angartha, the female
human guard that slept with Issic, Warrior 1: CR -; medium humanoid
(5'2"); HD 1d8+4+3; hp 12; Initiative: +4 (Improved Initiative); Spd 30
ft; AC 14 (flatfooted 14, touch 10); Attack +3 (1d8+2 longsword or 1d10+2 halberd);
AL NG; SV Fort +6, Ref +0, Will +0; Str 15, Dex 11, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 11,
Cha 13
Skills: Sense Motive +2, Intimidate +5, Jump +2
Feats: Improved Initiative, Endurance
Equipment: Scale mail, Halberd, Longsword
Lavinia, Librarian of Antiquities, Female Human Expert 20: CR 19, medium
humanoid (5' tall); HD 20d6-40+3; hp 33; initiative: - 1 (Dex); Spd 20 ft.;
AC 9 (flatfooted 9, touch 9); Attack +12/+7/+2 (1d3-3 unarmed strike); AL LN;
SV Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +19; Str 4, Dex 8, Con 4, Int 26, Wis 20, Cha 16.
Skills: Appraise +31, Decipher Script +33, Gather Information +29,
Profession (Librarian) +28, Knowledge (Arcana) +33, Knowledge (Religion) +31,
Knowledge (History) +35, Knowledge (Folk Legends) +31, Search +31, Spellcraft
+33, Listen +16, Move Silently +10, Intimidate +14, Knowledge (Astrology) +19,
Knowledge (Geography) +19.
Feats: Iron Will, Toughness, Blood of the Old Ones, Philosopher
And Historian, Skill Focus (Knowledge [history]), Skill Focus (Knowledge [Arcana]),
Skill Focus (Decipher Script), Skill Focus (Gather Information).
Notes: She is one of two 20th level experts in the
city of Alisander. She is 108 years old.
Alderni Whatley, Lady-in-Waiting (maid) assigned to the Hero's Wing of the
Palace, Female Human Commoner 1: CR -, medium humanoid (4'11" tall);
HD 1d4+2; hp 4; Initiative: +4 (Dex); Spd 30 ft.; AC 14 (flatfooted 10, touch
14); Attack +0 (1d3 unarmed strike); AL CG; SV Fort +2, Ref +4, Will -1; Str
10, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 9, Cha 11.
Skills: Profession (maid) +6, Spot +5, Craft (embroidery) +4
Feats: Skill Focus (Profession), Skill Focus (Spot)
Sjachrenthisj, Young Female Shadow Dragon: CR 5, small dragon; HD 10d12+10;
hp 75; Initiative: +4 (Imp. Init.); Spd 80 ft, fly 150 ft. (average); AC 24
(flatfooted 24, touch 11); Attack +12 (1d6+1 bite) and +7/+7 (1d4 claw/claw)
or Breath Weapon (20 ft. Cone, 1 negative level, DC 18); SR 15; Special Qualities:
Energy drain immunity, Shadow Blend; AL CE; SV Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +10; Str
13, Dex 10, Con 13, Int 16, Wis 16, Cha 17.
Skills: Listen +13, Spot +13, Search +13, Bluff +13, Appraise +13,
Knowledge (Arcana) +13, Concentration +11, Diplomacy +8, Escape Artist +5, Scry
+13
Feats: Flyby Attack, Hover, Improved Initiative
Kadelth, Male Human Sorcerer 5/Warlord 6: CR 11, medium humanoid; HD
5d4+6d8+11; hp 50; Initiative: +1 (Dex); Spd 20; AC 17 (flatfooted 16, Touch
11); Attack +13/+7 (1d10+5 warsword); Special Qualities: Defiling, Strategy
+2, Armor Casting; AL LN; SV Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +10; Str 14, Dex 12, Con
12, Int 15, Wis 14, Cha 18.
Skills: Alchemy +10, Concentration +9, Craft (weaponsmithing) +10,
Knowledge (Arcana) +10, Knowledge (Heraldry) +5, Spellcraft +7, Intimidation
+20, Sense Motive +8, Spot +6, Knowledge (History-battles) +8
Feats: Combat Casting, Concentration, Quick Draw, Iron Will, Leadership,
Skill Focus (Intimidation)
Equipment: +1 Breastplate of Light Fortification (25% arcane spell
failure), +3 warsword
Spells per day: 6/7/5 Knows the Following Spells: Flare, Light,
Daze, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Magic
Missile, Cause Fear, Chill Touch, Flaming Sphere, Bull's Strength.
Sunulth, Male Human Sorcerer 3/Warlord 7: CR 10, medium humanoid; HD
3d4+7d8+20; hp 59; Initiative: +3 (Dex); Spd 20; AC 18 (flatfooted 16, Touch
13); Attack +10/+5 (1d10+2 warsword) or +11/+6 (1d4 temp Con + 1d4 temp Str
damage Rod of Withering {permanent damage on a crit}); Special Qualities:
Defiling, Strategy +2, Armor Casting; AL LN; SV Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +7; Str
14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 18.
Skills: Alchemy +9, Concentration +8, Knowledge (Arcana) +9, Knowledge
(Heraldry) +6, Spellcraft +12, Knowledge (History-battles) +9, Intimidation
+17, Sense Motive +15, Spot +15
Feats: Combat Casting, Concentration, Quick Draw, Leadership, Mounted
Combat, Combat Reflexes
Equipment: +1 Breastplate of Light Fortification (12% arcane spell
failure), Rod of Withering
Spells per day: 6/6 Knows the Following Spells: Dancing Lights,
Daze, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Arcane Mark, Charm Person, Magic Missile,
Hypnotism.
Maksha, Female Human Telepath 16th/ Illithidkin 4th:
CR 20, medium humanoid; HD 16d4+4d6+20; hp 75; Initiative: +3 (Dex); Spd 30;
AC 18 (flatfooted 13, touch 13); Attack +11/+6 (1d8 short spear) or +16/+11
(1d8 crossbow); Special: Detached Mind, Telepathy, Increased Intelligence; AL
LE; SV Fort +8, Ref +10, Will +16; Str 8, Dex 14 (16), Con 13, Int 12, Wis 12;
Cha 19.
Skills: Concentration +20, Diplomacy +23, Psicraft +19, Sense Motive
+22
Feats: Inertial Armor, Inner Strength, Combat Manifestation, Talented,
Trigger Power (lesser Domination), Craft Dorje, Power Penetration
Equipment: +1 short spear, masterwork light crossbow, 10 masterwork
bolts, body adjustment tattoo, thrall powerstone, astral construct VIII powerstone,
mind seed powerstone, third eye (negate), cloak of displacement, amulet of natural
armor +3, gloves of dexterity +2, amulet of natural armor +2, amulet of catepsi
Psicrystal: Sympathetic
Psionic Combat Modes: ego whip, empty mind, intellect fortress,
mind thrust, thought shield, metal barrier, psychic crush, mind blast, id insinuation.
Psionics: 137 points per day. Powers Known: 10/5/5/4/4/3/3/2/1
Detect Psionics, Inkling, Know Direction, Daze, Missive, Distract, Telempathic
Projection, Burst, Catfall, Far Hand, Control Shadow, Attraction, Charm Person,
Conceal Thoughts, Demoralize, Disable, Brain Lock, Detect Thoughts, Inflict
Pain, Aversion, Ectoplasmic Cocoon, Crisis of Breath, Lesser Domination, Mindlink,
Fate Link, Tailor Memory, Fatal Attraction, Domination, Mindwipe, Mind Probe,
Greater Domination, Baleful Teleport (9d6 damage), Mass Suggestion, Mind Switch,
Disintigrate, Ultrablast, Mass Domination, True Domination
Bosskulitor, Grand Apotheosist of the Esoteric Order of Ilsensine; Illithidkin
11th Psion Nomad/5th Illithidkin); CR 16, medium monstrous humanoid, HD 16d6
+ 16; hp 57; Init +9; Spd 40 ft; AC: 18 (+5 Dex, +1 Natural, +2 Armor); Attacks:
Crossbow +15/+10 ranged (1d8); Special Qualities: Detached Mind, Telepathy 30
ft, Increased Intelligence, Illithid Apotheosis, Psicrystal (hero); AL LE;
Saves: Fort +8, Ref +8, Will +13; Str 14, Dex 19 (21), Con 12, Int 12, Wis 13,
Cha 15
Skills: Knowledge (Psionics) +12, Knowledge
(Religion) +12, Escape Artist +24, Climb +21, Psi-craft +20, Concentration +30,
Jump +10
Feats: Dodge, Psionic Dodge, Combat
Manifestation, Speed of Thought, Psionic Charge, Up the Walls, Improved
Initiative
Possessions:
Masterwork Light Crossbow, 10 masterwork bolts,
ring of fire resistance (minor), bracers of armor +2, crystal capacitor (5),
gloves of dexterity +2, amulet of natural armor +1, cloak of resistance +1, body
adjustment tattoo,
Psionics: 68 Power Points
Combat Modes: Mind
Blast (Cha, 9 pts), Ego Whip (Dex, 3 pts), Id Insinuation (Str, 3 pts), Mind
Thrust (Int, 1 pt), Psychic Crush (Wis, 5 pts).
Powers Discovered:
Burst, Catfall, Float, Daze, Missive, Telempathic Projection, Inkling, Detect
Psionics, Know Direction, Skate, Spider Climb, Grease, Charm Person, Glide,
Knock, Control Body, Recall Pain, Dimension Slide, Fly, Time Hop, Domination,
Dimension Door, Freedom of Movement,Baleful Teleport (9d6 damage), Teleport
Ordiss Ool… [Information suppressed by Grindill/Yam ibn Saud]